“I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Lieseleta gave a shiver and then felt guilty. She looked to the side and saw her Sisters kneeling beside her. Nimeria, Theresa von Margrinar, the eldest, was a thin woman with a sharp nose and chin, her pale green eyes blinked in the cold draft. She was in her late twenties and her normally haughty demeanor was replaced by uncertainty and discomfort. She was clothed in a thick furlined dress, probably enchanted, and looked at the grave- long prepared in advance- with the visage of her father hewn from granite mined in the Perrilen Heights at the northern coast.

Her other sister Keralia, whom she had not had the opportunity to really meet in years, probably thought her a small child still. She was married to count Grandherst and other than in his company she did not visit the capital. Her two children, a boy, and a girl should be two and three years old respectively. All of them had the traditional golden hair of the royal family, it had once been postulated that it was a magical trait, otherwise, she had a pretty but unremarkable face and she was the smallest of the royal children. Her temper though was well known.

The guilt stemmed from the fact that this was the first she had been near her sisters since her father's death. She had actively sought to avoid them as she did not want the discussions over the succession so shortly after the harrowing experiences she had been put through. And now she was kneeling beside them after nary a word and the guilt made her self-conscious.

“Stop staring.” Keralia quietly hissed at her. Her dark eyes flickered in her direction. “If you really want we can talk later.” She continued under her breath.

A venomous look from Nimeria shut them both down.

Snow that had accumulated in the slit windows high up in the walls of the old hall was blown into the room's expanse by fitful gusts of wind howling around the edges of the ancient structure. The braziers blazed with heat, but none was felt where they were kneeling.

The enchantments woven into her clothes made her comfortable enough she supposed, but why was the hall designed that way? Statues depicted the rulers of old as well as their spouses and children arranged as satellites orbiting the ruling monarch- or queen. Margrinar had always been more about ability and power than gender but to say that it did not play any part in the selection would have been a patent lie. Only the most exceptional or those without viable alternatives were women and the rest of the country, to say nothing of the neighboring Rivenlorn were still quite conservative in this regard but times were slowly changing.

The days had been hectic and full of work, and she was very grateful to Heloise. The acerbic woman was the main reason she would be crowned queen in a few days, not that she was sure she wanted it that badly, but the alternatives did not bear thinking about.

Somewhere far off death knells rang and were soon joined by the far-off city. The echoes drifted over the rocky hills lining the river and were soon swallowed by the stormy winds.

“So, that means we can go?” Nimeria murmured looking expectantly at the entrance to the hall and as if her words had summoned them two royal guards ponderously opened the great bronze-clad portal. Accompanied by swirling snow Heloise, a priestess of Charys drinker of tears and several guards entered the mourning hall. The remains would later be put in the royal mausoleum but for this last farewell, they were displayed in this hall that later would have artwork commemorating the deceased.

“I pray to the lady in grey that she will drink your sorrow and ease your pain so that the soul can be at peace.” The priestess intoned making the gesture of the chalice.

“We thank her for her gift.” The three sisters got up from the cushions placed under their knees, Nimeria winced and stretched her back.

Heloise looked them over and then sent a complex look toward the sarcophagus before gesturing to the portal. “Come with me, yes all three of you.” Then she turned to the priestess and nodded, “Thank you. We will still need to go over the ceremony later in the afternoon. Come after the fifth hour if that is convenient.”

The priestess nodded she was robed in a luxurious grey robe, her dark hair adorned with pearls that glimmered like freshly shed tears. Her dark blue eyes set in a thin pale face followed the royal children as they left the hall and murmured, “If you are the cause of many tears in life you will not receive as many tears in death.” She made the symbol of the chalice and began to pray. Her words were drowned out by the howling winds.

Somewhere near the river in Kronenburg

“You know what to do?” A gruff-looking older man with the lean muscles of a day-laborer looked at his compatriots.

“You told us six times already. What do you take us for? And who died and made you king?” The weasely man standing behind some other rough-looking men – and two women- all of them seemingly unskilled workers rubbed his four-day stubble and mocked in a high-pitched voice. After making his joke he guffawed, more amused by it himself than probably anyone else present.

Some of the others grinned and one or two chuckled.

“Tom, if you are still joking when this here is done then I will eat my words- but you empty-headed fool, son of a brain-dead carp will do as we have decided or you will stay at home and not bother me. Is that clear?”

The small group numbering around a dozen members stood among crates and barrels in an old warehouse. The musty air made their breath steam with cold and most of them would rather be somewhere warmer than here but a certain determination shone in their eyes, even the jokester secretly gritted his teeth and then nodded, still wearing his smile.

“Too long have we been the plaything of the so-called nobles. Too long have they ignored us, even made fun of our plight, used us! The girl is still young and inexperienced and the aunt is academy-taught, a lily-handed scholar! We will not get a better chance to make our grievances heard!”

“Hear, hear!” Several of the men stamped their feet and raised their voices.

“Say, where is Miro?”

Behind some crates stood a figure wearing dark, form-fitting clothing blending into the shadows with a bit more than mundane expertise. ‘So it seems I’m not needed. So much the better. There are three more groups that could possibly need my encouragement.’ A smile flitted across the otherwise impassive face before the figure turned murmured some words and vanished into the dusky evening.

The palace in the early afternoon

“Liese, how have you been?” Keralia looked at her and squinted her eyes as if trying to see the girl she had briefly seen three years ago.

“Well enough I suppose.” The sisters sat in a small reception room high up in the palace overlooking the sprawling gardens enclosed by the wings extending behind the main building. Dry, snowed-in fountains and hedge mazes as well as gazebos and small artfully placed lakes gave the meticulously crafted appearance of neglect that had been all the rage some years prior. A bay window lent an unparalleled view.

Nimeria took a sip from the elegant tea cup made of bone china. An expensive import from the southern isles.

Keralia sighed, “Dare I ask what both of you think of the planned coronation?”

The words dropped like stones into a pond full of silence.

Nimeria coughed as some of the tea went the wrong way. Coughing still, she grabbed a handkerchief, hiding her slowly reddening face.

“I see.” Keralia nodded.

“No, we did not have the opportunity until now.” Lieseleta looked highly uncomfortable.

“And?” Her sister looked at both of them intently. “I’m out of the running. The other counts would strip us to the bones before they would let me reign. So, what are your thoughts, dear sisters?”

“Isn’t it like always?” Nimeria pressed her lips firmly together. “The untalented, stupid girl should not get in the way?”

“I never said that!” Lieseleta looked alarmed.

“But you did not say anything when your mother disrespected me!” Her face twisted with anger. “And father always laughed as if at a joke.” She gripped the handkerchief until it was crumpled in a ball.

Keralia’s face showed the hint of a smile. “So you don’t object to Liese becoming queen?”

Nimeria’s jaw muscles bunched as she ground her teeth. “I don’t think anyone will care for my opinion as usual.”

“I do.” Lieseleta quietly said.

Her eldest sister raised an eyebrow and gave her a highly skeptical look before she snorted and looked away.

“Tsk, tsk. Manners.” Keralia did not smile exactly but a hint of it played around the corners of her mouth.

“I just remembered that my steward asked me to prepare for a visit by academy councilor Grenzwald. I am so sorry but I cannot stay any longer. It was very nice seeing you two again.” Nimeria looked at them coldly before she got up, and smoothed her dress. With an arrogant toss of her head she threw her golden hair behind her shoulder and walked briskly toward the door.

“But…!” Lieseleta half-rose before a hand on her upper arm stopped her.

“Let her go.” Keralia shook her head.

The door slammed shut behind the departing princess.

The Academy of the Arts a few hours prior.

The main auditorium was full of students and the whispers and low voices filled the cavernous room with a susurrus of noise.

Alyssa sat down beside Mireille who had eagerly waved at her as soon as she entered the hall. Alea was already seated beside Vivienne who seemed to have come through the battle with only minor injuries, the same as her brother Valens. In between sat the still bandaged Paula that Alyssa had once met in the corridors- She nodded at her in recognition getting a smile in return.

The lectern on the podium at the front of the hall with its slowly rising floor giving everyone an unobstructed view of the proceedings was illuminated by a focused beam of light by a large glow-lamp situated in the ceiling above. Large, latticed windows overlooked the academy gardens rising from just above the floor to nearly the ceiling two stories above. A balcony with more seats arranged against a stone railing overlooked the hall from up high.

As they waited the noise slowly rose in volume as the students became impatient.

“Silence please.” A voice sounded from behind and a group of teachers led by Magister Illimen and Reneus Flammensiegel walked down the central aisle.

Climbing the podium the Magister let his gaze roam over the assembled students.

“Welcome. I think it surprises no one when I say that we had to have this assembly after the happenings of the Arcane Exhibition and you are probably impatient to know what I have to say, so I will keep it brief and will allow some questions after I have made some announcements.”

A wave of murmurs was stopped by a raised hand from the old wizard.

“So, first I have to say I was impressed by your courage and fortitude. Many of you fought without being asked when you saw civilians and guardsmen attacked by the undead forces. Those of you who made contributions be assured that we know your names and efforts. They will not be forgotten. Those of you who did not fight, don’t worry. Not everyone is suited for battle and not every branch of magic offers the same abilities to make a difference in a fight. Students are not required to so if you fled with the civilians this will not be held against you.”

"And, I am very sad to say, some did not live to see this day. Despite our best efforts we, I, failed to keep them safe. This act of war will not go unanswered and we will properly grieve for our fallen at a later time when we will have a separate funeral ceremony." Illimen looked tired after saying this. "Let us remember them in silence." He looked down and everyone in the hall did the same. A heavy air seemed to weigh on those present only marred by the noise of some students shifting in their seats.

Nodding, Magister Illimen cleared his throat. “Now on to the void corruption. We had notices put on the board and all the dorm mothers were informed of it but I will reiterate. Don’t use magic if not truly necessary. The void contamination has reached the academy proper and it might impact you negatively if you disregard this advice. You have been warned.”

A wave of whispers rose anew and Illimen snapped his fingers and a roiling ball of fire exploded from his hand vanishing with a bang. The hall was silent once again.

“There will be time for questions later! So, where was I? Yes- This announcement might surprise you but we planned the annual field-testing for after the Exhibition.”

Suprised whispers and a few exclamations began anew.

Illimen turned toward an unremarkable older woman wearing white robes. “Ethel, if you would?” The woman nodded and spoke a spell and the room was soon completely silent, some students still wanted to talk but though their mouths moved, no sound came out.

“Sorry for that but I don’t have the time to calm you down every few seconds personally.” Illimen sighed and continued, “The annual field training is a fine tradition that has stood us in good stead for decades. And even if the weather is a bit inclement at the moment we, the faculty, think it would be good for you to train in adverse conditions while also avoiding damage to your health because of the ongoing void contamination. So we will stay for the royal funeral and the ceremony affirming the regent and the conditional coronation of the queen. After this, we will journey to the border with the untamed regions near Hundred Streams and remain there for approximately one month. There will be a test!” He grinned a bid wanly.

Looking to the side he gestured and the woman in white released the spellwork and noise returned as students agitatedly whispered to each other.

“Brr. That will be horrible! I hate the cold!” Mireille hugged herself and looked at Alyssa with a devastated expression.

“There, there.” Alyssa patted her shoulder. “Let us get some more heating enchantments and we will be set.”

“Ähem.” Illimen cleared his throat again. “Any questions? Please, only those acknowledged will talk.”

Hands rose into the air.

Illimen sighed, it was not as if he had not expected this.