James was not used to dreams. They did not come easily. Neither did sleep really these days. Sleep has avoided him as if from sickness since the civil war. Since he was a godslayer. Or yet, a young prince turned adventurer of his early career as a knight. It was not because of the horrid things he had witnessed, as others would surmise from these symptoms. In the past, he has slept soundly knowing what he knows and seeing what he has seen. It bugged him once how he could do that, sleep when others were suffering, and there was nothing he could do. But eventually, he could get over it and return to normalcy. No, this unwillingness to let his mind wander into the immaterial plane of dreams was a different but familiar feeling. A mental affliction that had followed him from the war. And that: is that Talin still lives.

Indeed, he himself nearly killed the ruler of this evil organization; several of the Plithos purged and severed whatever ties to the clans they once had. For the first time, forces from all walks of this world had united under a banner to fight a common enemy in the shadows, while their factions throttled each other over trivial matters. But they were still out there. Even if the Prime Noctum Umerius did die, the organization could still rule under a new head. He may have washed clean the clans of the influence of those bastards and demons, but what of the others? The Frostlandians, The outland kingdoms, Shi'Ased. Or worst, Hath and Torlak. He trusts that Remmus would do much the same to Torlak, but with the guild system they are famous for, just how thorough can he be? Hath has had a string of corrupt rulers, on the other hand. He has not spoken to Lizbeth in years. While her sister has taken a simple life as a farmer, she has taken up the task of governing their native land. From what ambassadors have told them, she seemed to be treating the people as well as any queen ought to be. But what can he trust of words over what he sees with his own eyes? He wished he can arrange a meeting between them all and coordinate better the selection of Theurgy members openly. But with the limitation of Remmus and Lizbeth, he has been left only with Celia, who is not going to stay in a single place like Silondras long enough for two sentences. Not with children now. And she made it clear with her and Wilbur's departure from Theurgy they wanted to be left out of governing the clans. They were indeed some of the greatest warriors his kingdom has ever known and some of his greatest friends.

He can feel it. Troubling times are upon them. It's enough that Frostlanders are getting increasingly more confident and aggressive. Shi'Ased, while being benign these past few decades, are always someone to keep their eyes upon, and rumors call to general mistrust amongst the nations various princes and princesses. And now, Talin chooses to arrive now of all times. The possible straw that breaks everything below it. He can't allow that to happen. Not while a crown rests upon his head.

He quickly dressed, straightforward clothes and immediately headed out to seek one of the Paladins. Aurelius has left already to help instruct the defensive measures of the Frostlander's attacks. The only two left in the capital are Lupurious and Novia. And for now, he wished to avoid Novia as long as possible. At the very least, lupurious won't be so curious at his personal dealings. He never has. Out of all the people in this castle, he knows the most about Lupurious, and the same can not be said in reverse. He could sense his aura, brighter than those around them in the kitchen. No doubt making a count of whatever sweets laid around before the chef could beat him away. He will intercept him there. Novia was still in her chamber, thankfully, along with two others, possibly other explorers. Now and again, people would bow their heads out of respect or greet him openly. HE didn't spare the time to greet them back. He found Lupurious as he thought he would be, shouted out as he stumbled out of the kitchen doors, carrying a plate of variously glazed buns.

"They seem extra today," he said merrily. He turned to James, giving a small curious frown before greeting him with a smile. "Lord James. You're awake earlier than usual, I see. You must believe I was just retrieving these for Novia."

"You are a terrible liar. You know that Novia dislikes sweets."

"And that's what makes her so sour," he stuffed his face. "So, what's the purpose of this particular visit, my lord? It's rare for a king to seek a Paladin. Or seek me at all. Don't tell me your having dreams again dear friend. I rather not be blessed with whatever fantasy you have created."

James sighed. Lupurious often did speak to him much less than their positions demanded. Not quite the demanding sort like Novia, but still a bit too informal. "I want a headcount of how many personal we have at the capital right now and how much is out to the outland kingdoms."

Another curious frown, this time staying. But he did begin, sighing. "We have ten thousand soldiers, a hundred knights, and forty sentinels all accounted for as of last night. Fifty thousand men were assembled and sent eastward. That includes Knights as well. Suppose I may ask why you ask this. Do you believe we will be attacked, James?"

"I am unsure," James told him. "I have a dreaded feeling in my gut. Just that something horrific will happen, do you think we will have enough in case of an attack?"

Lupurious could only shrug at this. "Unclear, my Lord. Depends on what kind of attack. My job is to keep you and the capital safe, and I make sure to make everything as prepared as possible. However, there are things we can't really account for, such as magic and the possibility of some sort of infiltration."

James nodded. Magic. No doubt, Talin also knows this and may be willing to exploit it once the time arises. The feeling of dread only became clearer and clearer. Under his gloves, he felt the veins pulsing ever so slightly more than usual, and the power of that pendant, and his attachment, moan in tension.

"Make sure that we have procedures for dealing with magical entities," James told him. "Prepare, Lupurious. I fear that the world will take a drastic change in the coming future."

Lupurious frown deepened, unlike his appetite. "This is so unlike you my king. She when we're you this worried about our nations security? Are you really that certain that we will be attacked, James?"

"As I said, it is but a hunch," however small the chance, they must be prepared. He doubts the attack on BrokenArrow shall be the last of Talin's message to not only those of Theurgy but every nation on this earth. No matter where you are, who you are. Your magic, your arms, your pride, and your armies will be meaningless. Your walls are the machinations of a child's fortress of pillows and sheets. Your citizens naked to the torment of the everlasting night. Everything that you hold dear does not belong to you. It is all the property of them. Yes, even your very soul and the souls that dwell after the living world belong to them.

"I have to stop it," James said. "I'm not letting anyone get the upper hand over us."

(X)

It was about time they went out for just a night. By the time the doctor came back, they had decided that it was time to look for some sort of transportation down the river. Preferably fast transportation. And apparently, there is no better way to look for such means than at a pub. Lyse has only been to one pub or tavern before, the only one in his town. It was not a place for the weak-spirited, even there. Many lumbermen who frequent the Forest of Silence took their days and sometimes nights gambling, drinking, and eating away what they earned. They never take residence beside and inn, and they were seen as drifters rather than actual citizens of Broken Arrow. At a glance, Lyse felt the same aura from where they entered now. On the outer edges of the city, where buildings were basically bunched up against the walls, they did come upon a tavern that will be seedy enough to provide them as much information as they needed. Indeed, there were fewer knights and fewer eyes on them here, though the stares were definitely more blatant than before. On the street just outside, several men were gambling using dice and cups, and a few tossed in copper or silver coins in. There were no guards at first sight. Though, any of the men who dozed in the sun's heat could be the muscle of this establishment.

The place was filled nearly to the kettle inside. The L shaped building was already a bustle of life even this late in the afternoon. A band of drummers and those who played horned instruments sat in the very back, taking the occasional tip or two from those who cared to listen. Sometimes, someone would join into the piece by singing the words to the aforementioned song. Lyse recognized it immediately as a war ballot specifically played just before the battle and recounted honored soldiers' return. The tune was lively but had a tinge of dreariness one would likely not expect from a first listen. It seemed appropriate, nonetheless. Some of those who dwelled here were soldiers too. The one-handed sword and uniform gambeson made them easy to spot, even in the shade of the lanterns and candles, and they were the ones who took notice of everyone who came in, including them.

"We need not draw attention that isn't necessary," Lyse said as he led them all to an empty table, one of the few. "We may need to split up if we're looking for some transportation."

"But first," Edlund whistled twice to one of the barmaids carrying a tray in both hands. She seemed at first annoyed at being whistled at like some sort of animal. But one look in their direction, her eyes widened a bit, and she immediately came forward with a pleasant smile.

Elena gave him a furrowed brow.

"Come on now," he defended. "What harm is a little spirit?

"Are you sure now is the appropriate time?" she asked him.

"Leave him be," Lyse sighed. "We all don't need a drink anything. Especially me."

When the serving maid came, her eyes looked upon Lyse with the immediate look of admiration. Edlund stopped himself from sighing, even though he was the one that called for her. She was pretty and young, definitely did not grow up to be a barmaid, however. Much more like the daughter of the mayor, or something else to keep her out of work. And the look she gave Elena ever so briefly, who sat next to Lyse, made her instantly a challenge in her own eyes.

"My lord," she spoke in soft, smooth tones."How may I serve you."

It took Lyse to remember that he was that 'lord'. It was something to get used to. "Ah, yes. My friend here would like something to rattle himself with. Perhaps something a little mild."

She bowed her head. "And you, my lord?"

"I'm fine, but thank you," he said. "However, may I ask you an important question. I promise not to take too much of your time."

She seemed a bit too ready to answer him. "Of course. I'm not terribly busy."

Lyse nodded but didn't seem to notice her intentions, something Elena was getting increasingly aware of and slightly annoyed. "Do you know of a ferry or any sort of transportation making its way downriver? The price really doesn't matter as long as it's available."

She paused to think almost desperately. But before it could be said to be considered pondering, she said those. "I am . . . unsure. However, the owner or some of the other servers may know. I'll ask them right away."

Lyse meant to stop her; there was no reason to alert any more people than necessary where they were going. But she was nearly out of sight in but a second, disappearing into the kitchen where a few eyes looked on wondrously at Lyse. Edlund sighed, trailing his finger on the table.

"She better not forget my drink," he said.

"To be honest, it's nearly a detriment to be traveling with you, Lyse," Gray still looked in the direction the girl went off to.

"How so?"

"With you here, how is any able man to find any attention," he said in mock tragedy. "I don't get it. It's like they treat you like a king. If I had a pretty face."

"I doubt you'd use it for good," Elena chastised. "I guess it will be useful. It makes it easier for us to gather some intel. Then again, Lyse does drag attention."

Lyse didn't understand anything they were saying. He never felt like people treated him differently just because he has blond hair. And he doesn't control how others feel. But to each their own, in his opinion. Though, he wished that the barmaid just answer him already. He felt strangely alleviated just by being here. The revelry, although not as extreme as the festival back in Silondras, made him react in much the same way. He felt the urge to dance, let loose upon himself. Sing, perhaps. He felt the pendant warm ever so slightly within. And he could feel something within the other pendant, much fainter than the other, stir in some lively manor. Even the smell of alcohol made him a bit uneasy now. Perhaps it was best to leave the drinking and chatting to his companions, at least until he can control this power.

The same bar maiden returned with haste, clutching the empty tray to her chest as she nearly fumbled words out. "A few ferries are going out for the port, my lord. The ferryman Dale off in the corner yonder may take you up on your offer."

Lyse sighed. At least it wasn't a total waste. "Thank you. Again, I am terribly sorry to trouble you. Take this as my apology."

Lyse pushed a golden mark into her cupped hands, which nearly dropped the coin as if it was some hot piece of metal. Lyse supposed that golden marks aren't seen this far from the markets. She thanked him graciously, nodding her head twice and repeating her gratitude the double before moving on to the kitchen. Edlund gave her a stingy eye before moving it to Lyse; an accusing finger pointed to his face.

"She forgot my drink," he told him in a low voice. "She forgot my drink, and that's on you."

"I'm sure she is getting your drink now, Edlund," Lyse told him. "Besides, that cuts the amount of attention we'll have to draw to ourselves. I will rather be just a regular party of knights traveling than possibly something more. Whatever more is in this city."

"Cities get lots of traffic," Elena told them. "We won't be all that unusual unless we want to be."

"Except we brought necromantic warriors to their gates," Gray reminded them. "If that's not unusual, I don't know what is."

"The walls get attacked all the time," Lyse said. "At least at home, that is the case. However, the amount of attention we have now is manageable. Let's just get what we need and leave."

A different barmaid came around and passed drinks to everyone. Edlund felt almost at ease with a cup in his hand, but before he could take a sip, Lyse pushed his own cup towards him and gestured to the corner that the previous barmaid had mentioned to them. There, sitting in the darkness of a beam with a stack of cards before he was a tall man, darker in complexion than the average customer. He had no cup at his side, Lyse noticed, and from the condition of his dress, he most likely was not going to get such spirits on his own. Edlund frowned at him.

"Make some more friends, Edlund," Lyse told him.

Edlund sighed, snatching up his cup and Lyse's in the same hand. Immediately he began to drink from his own as he walked away. "I'm going to make you pay for this, Lyse. I don't know how or when, or even if I can. But I will."

Edlund wished he could be drunk already. Much like the rest of the men here. That was the vibe he got. Everyone was in the middle of dice and games. Others told stories, both funny and startling. Perhaps a spooky tale of what they have encountered on their travels. Edlund found himself asking why can't they be that. Just have a nice chat and sort out all that is happening. Sing songs and perhaps get a peck or two from one of the barmaids. Just one. But that was an impossibility. It was hard knowing that when the village girls came around the training grounds, you were pretty low on their scale of admiration because something else tipped those scales. He can't blame Lyse for it precisely, but he at least wished he at least acted like he does what he does on purpose. Maybe he'll feel better, who knows.

It was better anyway to have Edlund do this, at least in his mind. He doubts Lyse can handle a pint of this stuff. From the little he drunk, he was curious about what this tavern considered a mild drink. He'd better have luck drinking freshly squashed grapes. It should do the trick, though. From the glance, the Ferryman gave him as he sat down across from him, he needed something to alleviate his mind. He was a handsome man, on the older side, and more than likely from Shi'Ased. If his complexion wasn't a giveaway, the sash he wore across his shoulders did. A pale red sash with writing in another language he could not read. Besides that, he wore what any typical merchant on the road would, although worn and threadbare in certain areas. He constantly shuffled the stiff cards in his nimble fingers. He did not speak when Edlund sat down, a mug in his hand, and the other cup across the table. He gave nervous glances to where Edlund had come from.

"Hello, my friend," Edlund said. "Could I interest you in something for your gut? You look like a man in need."

"Erm," using the end of his cards, he nudged the cup away. "No, thank you, kind sir. My people don't really delve into such things. Sorry."

Edlund gave a confused glance. "Well. An interesting place you choose to spend your time. Not a lot of people end up at taverns because of the atmosphere, you know."

"I know," he said, fingering his cards between his hands. "But this beats the docks. Competition has been riling up a bit these days, see. I tend to find some worthwhile change off of the intoxicated that need such transportation."

"Cunning," Edlund admitted under his breathe. "Good. Well, we need a ride all the way down to the port. We're willing to pay whatever you require, with reason. Tell me, does your boat take horses."

For the first time, the stern and concerned look upon the ferryman's face turned to that of authentic shock. Apparently, the concept of picking your own price was seen very little on the rivers of Koraki. Not really all that surprising. From his daily lessons with Wilbur, the smart man makes the first bargain and the last statement from what he can recall. He appreciated that; otherwise, there was no way he would learn how to handle money. But in this case, according to Lyse, they have enough funds to buy a small army out, much less pay for a ferry downriver. The ferryman was more than gracious, thanking Edlund repeatedly while kissing his own fingers and speaking in some other language. It was almost too easy, Edlund thought.