Charles sat in his study. Letters, books, and scrolls lay strewn across the desk. His family’s crown sat in front of him. Picking it up, the crown felt heavier in his hands. Turning it around, his eyes followed the floating gems on each tip of the crown. Why was this his burden? Why did he have to decide whether to sentence an entire city to death? Charles’ gaze lingered on the Silver Kingdoms’ gem. The golden light from it seemed dimmer now. Did it know something he didn’t?

“Daddy, are you sad?” Elizabeth’s voice broke through his dark musings. Charles smiled and turned to face his daughter. She had managed to sneak in without a sound. “I was until I heard your voice,” He said while patting his knee. Elizabeth beamed and jumped onto his lap. She tried in vain to wrap his body in a hug but only made it around halfway.

“I think you need a good squeeze,” Elizabeth said while her grip tightened and giggles bubbled from her chest. “Oh no, you're crushing me! What should I do,” Charles feigned a pained groan. He turned his head to look at her, “Oh, I know I should stop you with tickles!” Dropping the crown on his free knee, Charles lunged at his daughter.

His hands went right to her armpits and sides. Years of practice gave him an edge in tickling her. Elizabeth’s laughter grew louder, nearly screaming, “Daddy!” Charles kept up his assault but stopped as he heard the clanking of armored feet. Elizabeth looked at him, frowning, “You have to go, don’t you?” Charles moved a stray piece of hair from Elizabeth’s face. “I do for now,” He said before kissing her on the forehead.

“Run along and find mommy. She may need help with your brother,” Charles picked up Elizabeth and set her down gently. “Okay,” She said dejectedly while heading towards the nursery. Charles watched her open the door and leave. Looking back to his blessing and curse, Charles picked up the crown. He saw his worried face reflected back at him. Closing his eyes, Charles donned the crown.

The cold metal touching his ears sent shivers down his spine. Finally, the armored footfalls stopped outside the door leading to the council chambers—three slow knocks, “Your majesty. Legate Harshu requests your presence in the council chambers. Charles stood slowly and exhaled. Pushing a bit of Aether into the crown brought it fully to life. He watched the brilliant lights scattering across the walls for a moment.

The connection to the throne snapped into place, and he felt the city around him. His breath caused a breeze to flow up towards the palace across every street. Charles could feel the fear in his people, the determination in his soldiers. Pushing those aside, Charles dimmed the gems floating above the crown.

He went to the door and opened it slowly. The Legionnaire stiffened for a moment, “Follow me, my lord.” Charles followed them and guessed this one was new. Their stiffness and rigid response to his presence were clear signs. Charles let his mind wander as they walked to the Council Chambers. The senses the crown and throne granted him didn’t extend much beneath the base of Volamire. Much to his relief and annoyance. Being able to sense and see this outbreak would have allowed him to immediately crush it.

Charles shook his head, clearing that thought from his mind. The crown had that effect on him. The power and senses it granted him, and his predecessors always pushed them into the dark. Charles stopped in the hall and turned to the statue on his right. Something had caught his eye for just a moment. “Sire?” The Legionnaire stopped as Charles did.

Charles held up his hand and walked to the statue. He swept his gaze over it. Statues like this one had always been part of the palace, at least as far as anyone knew. Each was in a masterfully detailed suit of armor. Shield in front of their chests and one hand on the pommels of their weapons. Full helmets covering their visages.

Charles, though, had seen it twitch for a moment. He looked it over once again. “Always hated these statues,” Charles added after a moment. “Carry on,” He said while continuing down the hall. The Legionnaire nodded and continued as well. Charles chewed his lips. He was under a lot more stress than usual. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, overuse of stimulants, or a dozen other potential causes. If he didn’t go to bed, he was going to be dragged there by Meredith.

Charles rubbed his neck and shook his head. Maybe when they shifted, he would quietly sneak away with his family for a few days. Surely Iskial could handle affairs for a few days while he enjoyed some relaxation. The Legionnaire stopped in front of the Council chambers and saluted, fist over heart. Charles turned to the Legionnaire, “What’s your name?” They stiffened and took off their helm.

A raven-haired, green-eyed woman looked at him, “Miranda, my lord.” Charles smiled, “Thank you for escorting me, Miranda.” Miranda returned the smile, “You are welcome, my lord.” Miranda put her helmet back on. Charles pushed the door and entered the room. Harshu was hunched over the table. A map lay across the center with reports strewn across the sides. Figurines outlining troop disposition were scattered across the map itself.

Charles cocked his eyebrow as he saw both Silverhelm’s sitting across from Harshu. Their faces were pale and only grew paler as he walked into the room. “My Lord Charlemagne,” Victor Silverhelm said while standing to bow. Theresa stood with her husband and bowed as well. “No need for the formalities now sit, please,” Charles gestured for them both to sit. He inspected the couple while coming to stand beside Harshu.

Victor’s knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests. Theresa’s hands clenched and unclenched around her sleeves. Bad news then, Charles thought before looking at Harshu. “Any news?” He asked, hoping it wasn’t as grim as he expected. Harshu turned to look at him, his magenta eyes full of sorrow. “We received news that the Palace was overrun. The children didn’t make it,” Harshu trailed off at the end. Charles looked to Victor and Theresa, understanding their expressions now. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally finding the words. “For what it is worth, I am sorry we couldn’t save them.”

The words appeared to break the spell on Victor and Theresa. Charles watched their eyes well up with tears. He eyed a nearby Legionnaire and gestured to the couple. They walked over and escorted the mourning couple out. Charles chewed his lip for a moment before sighing, “How bad is it?” Harshu glanced at the map and adjusted a few figures. “With the palace lost, our only major holdouts in the city remain the Academy, Garrison, and Western Gatehouses.”

Charles studied the map taking a deep breath. The situation was worse than he thought. “What are your suggestions?” He asked while glancing back at Harshu. Harshu returned the glance while grabbing something off to the side and out of view. “My only suggestion at this point, my lord, is to purge the city,” Harshu placed a dagger and signal stone in the middle of the map. Charles tentatively took the dagger and unsheathed it. The blade glinted in the witchlight around them.

“Do you know what will happen to you after this?” Charles asked while rolling up his sleeve. “I understand perfectly, and I am willing to accept the consequences,” Harshu responded while gingerly grabbing the stone. He held it just beneath the hilt of the dagger as Charles placed the blade on his forearm. He looked at Harshu, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. Before he could spill his blood on the stone, the palace shook violently.

Like a rope snapping, Charles lost his connection to the throne and city. He staggered from the shaking and sudden loss of senses. Charles opened his eyes and gripped the table to steady himself. Movement caught his eyes from the corner of the room. Charles watched as the armed and armored statue standing guard there cracked. The stone fell to the floor, revealing actual armor beneath the facade. As one chunk fell from the helmet, Charles saw the eyes flutter open.

They glowed crimson. Before the last piece of stone skin fell away, the warrior’s weapon was in hand. Charles had just enough time to shout a warning to Harshu before the former stone warrior fell upon them.

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“Oh, gods damn it!” Mela’s scream startled Lissa awake. She also felt her head being jerked around erratically and felt with her left hand for the cause. “Gods damn it! I thought she filed off the points!” Mela interjected just as Lissa felt the sole of a foot impaled on one of her horns.

Blinking back the confusion, Lissa saw the darkness around her light up slowly with a golden hue. “I didn’t have the tools to do it while we were gone,” Lissa replied while letting small pieces of rubble into her mouth. “Oh good, you’re awake. Can you please move my foot off your horn!” Mela stopped struggling. “In a moment,” Lissa said while taking stock of the situation. She could see rubble piled on top of her. Taking a deep breath, she began moving her limbs.

Her legs were fine but out of sight. Lissa could feel her tail moving unobstructed and unbroken. When she reached her arms, the left was fine, but the slightest movement in her right sent excruciating pain up her shoulder. Lissa closed her eyes and grit her teeth as the pain flared then subsided.

Opening her eyes once more, Lissa saw a small golden light floating in front of her face. “What the hells?” She said while watching it slowly float to her right shoulder. It danced over it for a moment before sinking in—a cold numbing spread out from the spot. Lissa chuckled. Maybe she was going to get a lot of use out of that bargain after all. Another erratic head movement brought Lissa’s attention back to the current problem. “Still stuck here, any time now, Lis!” Mela was clearly frustrated now, and the pain surely didn’t help. “I’m going. I had to make sure I wasn’t missing anything,” Lissa slowly slid her left hand up to her horns.

Touching the horn, Lissa ran her hand up to it. She could feel Mela’s blood pouring down in rivulets into her hair. Lissa grabbed Mela’s ankle, “Alright, I am going to pull on the count of three.” She could feel Mela’s nod run down her leg into the foot, “Okay.” Lissa took a deep breath and adjusted her grip. “One. Two,” She pulled the foot off quickly, “Three!”

“Fucking hells!” Mela screamed while dragging her foot back through the hole in the rubble. “I thought you were going to pull on three!?!” Lissa shook her head, “You would have tensed your leg at three, making it harder to pull off. Plus, you always do that to us, so some payback is nice.”

“Well fuck you too then. We’ll patch up my foot and start digging you out,” Mela replied after a moment. Lissa could hear stones being moved around her. “Who is with you?” She asked while watching more golden lights descend into her shoulder and right arm. “Mera is helping Almios with an unconscious Micah, Garza, and Darvick are still missing,” Mela responded, and Lissa could hear the hesitance in her voice.

“Any sign of Saida or the girl?” Lissa asked while experimentally moving her arm. “No, we haven’t found any trace of them,” Mela finished with a hiss of pain. “Damn, that horn was sharp. One second,” Mera’s voice came through now. Lissa’s arm was still slightly painful to move now, but it lessened quickly. “Fuck!” Mela screamed in pain as Mera presumably started healing her foot.

A question sprang to Lissa’s mind finally, “Mela? Why were you sticking your legs down to me?” She could hear Mera chuckle in response to her question. “I thought I could slip under the rubble to check on you and got stuck. So I tried to kick off some rubble down there but slipped and got impaled instead.”

Lissa blinked a few times before feeling laughter bubble up out of her. “Laugh it up. We are done now,” Mela said resolutely. “Grab that end,” She told Mera. Lissa calmed herself and waited to be uncovered.

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The storm arrived shortly after Lissa helped finally excavate an unconscious Darvick. The rain fell heavily, lightning strikes echoing across the desolation. Lissa scanned around for threats as Mera and Mela tended to him. Almios and Lissa had found Garza not too long ago. He hadn’t been happy about his entombment and wandered aimlessly seething. “Where is the Legion?” Micah said, finally gaining consciousness. Lissa began walking over to him, “Whatever happened here wasn’t the signal and probably weren’t ordered to investigate.”

“Horseshit! This was something they should have investigated!” Garza shouted while heaving debris to the side. “Look around us! Whatever happened leveled the surrounding buildings! How did we even survive!?!” Garza opened his arms wide and spun slowly. Lissa had already noticed that but had a suspicion on who had kept them alive.

“Garza! I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth! So just shut the fuck up!” Almios retorted, throwing a small rock at Garza’s back. Garza scowled and opened his mouth to respond. Before he could utter a word, a scream drew everyone’s gaze upwards. Someone was falling towards them. Lissa and the others watched them plummet and slam into the ground a dozen meters away. The body pulped under the sudden deceleration. Viscera, bones, and blood blanketed rubble around the impact site.

“What the fuck?” Lissa said while cautiously walking towards the remains. She didn’t make it more than a few steps before more screaming made her look upwards. Lissa saw dozens of more people falling. Airships once docked at Volamire also began leaving their berths, and the air corps started ascending to the city itself. “By the gods!” Micah shouted, breaking everyone from their stupor. Lissa stood still for a moment and saw the wyverns breathe fire onto the docks. “We need to head back to the academy to find out what is going on,” Lissa stated while dread crept up her spine.

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Saida’s head ached, and her vision swam as she opened her eyes. Where was she, why was she on her back? She blinked slowly and realized she was staring at intricate stonework. Pushing herself up, Saida felt bile coming up her throat. Twisting to the side, Saida expelled the contents of her stomach with a few retches.

“Feel better?” Faceless’ voice rang in her ears. “No, where am I? What happened?” Saida pushed herself away from the vomit and towards a wall. She looked slowly around and saw she was in a half-circle room. To her right, a dias rose up, taking all the space on that side. On her left, Saida saw dozens of decaying and cobweb-covered stockades.

Faceless appeared in front of her, the mask frowning. “The first answer, you are in my home. Long neglected obviously, and second, you fell into that girl’s trap, and that brought you here,” He said while bobbing around her. Saida felt her nausea returning as he bobbed and weaved.

“Why did that Gloomed girl’s trap bring me here then? Did you redirect it somehow?” Saida asked while turning away from Faceless. She saw her sword just out of reach of her feet and slumped down to drag it closer. “The trap would have only brought you here if you were of a certain,” Faceless paused for a moment, “Heritage.”

Having brought the sword close enough, Saida grabbed the hilt. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” She asked while laying it across her lap. Faceless’ mask turned into a smirk, “Look at yourself.” Saida blinked, confused. She swore if Faceless had eyes, they would be rolling. “Your reflection in the sword.”

Saida brought the blade up to her face and almost dropped it immediately. Her pitch-black eyes were filled with starlight, and the tips of her were even more pointed. Saida opened her mouth and saw the rows of sharp teeth. “What did you do!” Saida pointed the blade at Faceless. The smirking mask only fueling her rage. “I did nothing but take precautions in my home, of course. The moment you appeared in this room, the enchantments disguising you fell away.”

“Permanently?” Saida felt herself beginning to breathe rapidly. Faceless’ mask turned thoughtful, “No, they could be done again, though it would be much more difficult to do them here.” Saida forced herself to breathe slowly. No one but her father knew the truth, but Saida suspected a few others knew. If everyone knew she wasn’t just a half-breed, it would make her life and the lives of everyone she knew difficult.

The sound of the chamber door banging open startled Saida. She whipped her head to the door, and her blood ran cold. Two heavily armed and armored individuals stood there. Through their full-faced helmets, glowing red eyes stared at her. The little girl was in between them. Saida brought her sword up, ready to counter any attack. After a few panicked heartbeats, she blinked. They weren’t moving. “Oh, my apologies Saida, I never told you,” Faceless’ voice was calm and whimsical. “These are my subjects, and you did say you would do anything for me,” Saida turned her head to look at Faceless.

The eye sockets in the mask had fallen away. Staring from them were glowing crimson orbs. “Now, will you come willingly? Or will I need to ‘persuade’ you to keep your end of the deal?” As Faceless finished speaking, the two armored figures took a step forward, weapons in hand. “Your choice.”