Back inside the gaea pocket Roun was still struggling to make his way to his feet but as he looked around, none present would raise their heads. This only served to add to his already mounting confusion.

“What the fuck!?” He yelled, having lost all composure at this point.

After the assault he couldn’t even think straight.

Nothing made sense.

He briefly considered the possibility that his captors were kneeling in reverence of some figure of authority—perhaps beyond his perception—back in their realm outside of the gaea pocket, but his theory didn’t make sense. As he gazed out over the masses, he noted that they were all oriented towards him and not towards the edge of the barrier.

Confusion turned to anger, and his better judgement left him.

Walking forward, he grabbed the young woman that he had been talking to earlier and lifted her off the ground by her shoulders. Unbeknownst to Roun, green flames leaked from his body as his rage swelled, augmenting his already preternatural strength beyond its ordinary capabilities, allowing him to suspend the young woman in the air with ease.

“What—did—you—do!?” He snarled, his aura flaring as he spoke.

“I did nothing majesty, the probe was the work of our grand magister.” Roun’s gaze narrowed at the statement, perhaps focusing on wrong part at this time.

“Where are they?!” The youngster was slowly becoming feral, but the voice of an older man drew his attention away from the young woman suspended above him and towards the source of the voice.

“I am here, majesty.” He spoke.

There was that word again… majesty… and again, it wasn’t in English. Roun hadn’t even realized that he now understood the language of these people—magically, he now understood the derivative dialect of old-Spanish that was now known as Malaikin.

He paused.

He also knew what it was called. His confusion simply grew. So many questions.

As he attempted to ponder the causes of this, his head just pounded. A development that only further fuelled his rage. As his attempts at reason failed, he released the young woman who fell back to her feet before once again kneeling. But Roun didn’t even take note of this. Instead, he began stomping his way toward the apparently middle-aged man that spoke to him earlier. As he approached this man, Roun could feel his target’s energy radiating outwards, growing more and more potent as he closed the distance. As he started moving towards him, the energy signature at first had the same stifling effect of the presence of a heroic tier channeller, but as Roun got closer and closer his green flames subsided. By the time he had completely closed the distance, Roun could barely maintain his veranos aura despite the fact that he still raged. Despite his anger, most of the energy in the vicinity instead flowed into his target, who he could only assume to be at least legendary tier.

“What did you do to me?” Roun snarled.

“I merely corroborated your story, majesty.” He responded without an ounce of fear or discomfort, his voice laced with just the mildest hint of respect afforded to someone of great prestige. “Your words hold true, much to my surprise—and honestly, to my great pleasure.”

Roun’s rage just grew, to the point that he was quaking with it.

“Ex-explain yourself—please.” Finally angry broke, giving way to frustration and sadness. “What the hell is going on?”

The look of defeat on his face brought a sly grin to the older man’s face.

“Forgive me majesty.” The man spoke from his kneeled position. “My name is Zielle Mera-Malaikin, grand magister to the Third King, Zien Malaikin II—and you are His Majesty, Roun Itami, Crown Prince of Itam.”

“Wait—what? I-I don’t understand.” Roun just sighed heavily, his voice trailing off as he spoke.

“Yes.” The man nodded. “There is much that you have not been told. I trust that the former prince intended to explain all to you in due course, but I fear that honour is now mine.”

The man paused.

“My king was a friend of your father in his youth. As has been the custom between our clans for over a millennium, they were bonded psychicly at a young age, as a sign of faith and trust between the would-be kings of our two kingdoms. King Zien remembers when news of your father’s death in an operation to thwart a clandestine haima’sa incursion into the heart of the Crystales capital, was announced.”

“When wha—”Roun paused, rethinking his question and instead asking something that was perhaps more pertinent. “How long ago was this?”

“Almost a century ago.” Zielle explained. “It would seem that your father’s royal guard carried out their duty in preserving his life, but in doing so banished him to Terra, along with a small contingent of the haima’sa scourge.”

“I have so many questions…” Roun sighed.

“I understand that.” Zielle conceded. “And while I’m elated that the bloodline of the legendary hero survives—your memories of this legendary destroyer worries me. His similarities to The Grand Plague are worrisome beyond measure, but I do take some solace in the fact that Terra seems to have assembled her guardians.”

“So you guys are also aware of these things?” Roun’s query was met by loud laughter.

“Yes my boy, and I suspect that we may be the source of much of your knowledge on Terra.” Zielle explained. “Our clans, the Malaikin and the Itami, are descended directly from two of the original guardians. Their history is ours – and as such, I suspect it was your father that brought this knowledge with him to Terra.”

Roun’s eyebrow tipped upwards.

“Your Matriarch, is what remains of the Sun Shen, Fu Hao—while our Grand Elder is the Warrior Queen once known as Boudicca—your original Dias, if you will.” Zielle continued. “Battered and broken by their battles with Teros, they passed their powers onto future generations… but fragments of them were lost in the separation of our worlds, and congealed as the matriarchs of our two great nations.”

“This Sun Shen… progenitor of my veranos… she was Geon?” Roun inquired.

“She was a part of Geon, yes—that is the reason for the similarities between your flames and her legendary power.” He continued to explain.

Roun’s eyebrow tipped upwards.

“Strangely, we had thought that The Grand Plague was Teros reborn—all now the kingdoms of Oya marshal forces against his pestilence—but Teros’ existence in your realm brings that all into question.” Zielle sighed. “If only you could come and meet with the Third King.”

“Why can’t I?” Roun inquired.

“For the same reason that I had to come to you.” Zielle explained. “While our worlds converge at this point, when we exit this pocket, we each exit back into the world from which we’ve come. If our soldiers had tried to bring you to us, they would have deposited you right back where you came from—Terra.”

“Oh right.” Roun sighed.

“Any interactions between our people will have to happen here.” He explained. “And with the security measures on either side, I suspect such interactions will be few and far between.”

“About that.” Roun paused. “I’m pretty sure my fellow guardian hosts are trying to stage our battle with Teros right here.”

“I’m aware.” Zielle replied, reminding Roun that he had just scanned all of his memories. “When we first detected this gaea pocket months ago, we began relocating our people. We’d thought that it was the initial evidence of a haima’sa incursion—but a battle with Teros is much, much worse.”

Zielle paused.

“I will inform my king that he should widen the perimeter and fortify our defences—but Oya does not yet have Guardians so we can offer you no real assistance in this battle.” He sighed.

Roun just shook his head.

“A fortified perimeter would have been enough—” Roun dismissed the apology. “—but a whole other world to fight for is more assistance than you can even imagine Zielle.

The older man just smiled lightly at the platitude.

“I’ll inform the other guardians—” Roun stated, before pausing slightly. “—assuming that I’m free to go.”

Zielle laughed loudly at the statement.

“Look around you, young prince.” He pressed, drawing Roun’s attention to the fact that none of the soldiers nor scientists had risen from their knees since his identity was revealed. “Our defences are hardcoded to recognize the imperial bloodline’s variant of Veranos, no barrier we erect can stop you from coming or going as you please—and our clans recognize the royalty of each other as our own, so none present will stop you.”

“Oh—Okay…” Roun paused briefly to process it all, but at this point he just couldn’t.

All he could do was sigh lightly.

“How do I get everyone up off their knees?” Was all that the young man could inquire.

Zielle chuckled at his attempts to take the entire ordeal in stride.

“A simple request would suffice.” He replied.

After a deep breath, Roun finally spoke.

“Everybody, get up.” He commanded, drawing compliance from those that would have apprehended and imprisoned him just moments prior as he walked over to the young female psychic that he had been interacting with before.

As he approached her, the young woman stood up and turned her attention towards him with reverence.

“I’m… sorry, about before.” Roun spoke sheepishly.

“I understand majesty, Zielle’s methods are engineered to be effective, but not pleasant.” She explained. “You reacted as most would to such… violation.”

Her choice of words perfectly described Roun’s feelings, down to the lingering sensation of disgust that he now tried to bury.

“You never introduced yourself.” He quickly changed the topic.

“I am Aeriul Medyan-Malaikin, junior magister of the Malaikin royal guard.” She replied.

“It’s a pity we couldn’t have met under better circumstances Aeriul.” Roun sighed. “Hopefully, when this is all over we can have a do-over.”

The young woman just smiled.

“As you wish, majesty.” Her reply caused Roun to sigh lightly.

“You can also drop the ‘majesty’.” He replied. “I’ve struggled to ditch the ‘spoiled rich kid’ persona that dogged me for most of my childhood—I definitely don’t need this being added to the mix.”

“As you wish.” She giggled lightly.

Roun just nodded in response, before turning his attention back to Zielle.

“Zielle, give your King my regards—as well as my father’s.” Roun replied. “If they were as close as you think, I’m sure they’ll want to meet up once Teros is… dealt with.”

“Of course, young prince.” Zielle replied, much to Roun’s annoyance.

“I have to get back to Terra and start seriously working on a plan to deal with Teros, once and for all.” With this, Roun began his walk back towards the magical barrier at the edges of the pocket. It would seem that he’d have yet another thing to explain to Tyler on his return to Terra.