I use the opportunity to go through his stuff. I feel like a petty thief... Rummaging through someone else's belongings in the middle of the night... Even so... I managed to locate first two items. Now for the last one... I didn't see it on her, so it should be here. I hope. Found it. I clench the Stone in my hand. Why is this so difficult? I take a deep breath and...

“Emerald.”

“Oh?” That petrifying growl... Never did I think I'd feel so relieved hearing it... “Have you returned to kill me?” What? No. Why... I sigh.

“First of all. I'm glad to hear you. Second. Where are you?”

A long pause. “The Stables.” Huh?

“You mean here? The Palace?”

“Yes.”

“Don't move. I'm coming down there. We need to talk.”

“As you wish...” Was she always this obedient? I take one last glance at the sleeping Devona. Hope Emerald's in better shape... I close the door behind me and go see the one soul who can tell me what really happened... I find Emerald holed up in the Stables. The food lies untouched in the usual spot. Not her too...

“What happened.”

Emerald raises her head, her greens glow in the dark, stopping my heartbeat in its tracks. She looks almost the same when we were stuck in the mountains... The reason she's looking slightly better is probably because someone applied spells on her, to keep her alive... My body trembles with rage. Is everyone here an idiot! I clench the Stone harder.

“Before I tell you. Ask yourself. Do you truly wish to know?”

“I wouldn't have comeback if I didn't.” I take a second. “I need to know if things would have been different if I had never left. I need to know if I could have stopped him. If I could have saved them...” She shifts her body just a little and lays down again.

“If you wish.” She begins. Slowly, I sit down on the ground and listen... So many variables unaccounted for... So many ways to prevent this... Sending a larger party would have been enough... So why? Have we become too confident in the times of Peace? Too lax? Is there a traitor amongst us?... That's only half of the problem...What was she thinking? What was he thinking? Why do I bother asking... I know the answers… One thing I am certain of. If I have died in his place - our land would have a King still and I would be set free...

“Lyma, could probably provide you with more details on what happened on his end, but that is all I know.”

“Thank you. I'm sorry I forced you to go through it again.”

“Fool. What do you think I've been dreaming about ever since?” Emerald answers. I look up at her. “I am not in here, because I am trying to forget. I am in here, because I cannot forget.” That catches a gulp of air inside my chest.

“Is that why you refuse to eat?” No answer.

“Have you seen her?” No answer.

“What about the child?” No answer.

“Do you honestly believe that this would make him happy? He did not die so that you could rot here. You and her are both idiots. Wasting food and everyone's efforts and concerns. Neither one of you is capable of remembering anything about what kind of a man Wykren was. You have neither shame, nor respect for him.”

“Then do us both a favor and finish me off.”

“Absolutely not. Death would be too easy for you. I want, no, I need you to live. You need see that child grow up and suffer, knowing what she lost and is missing out on, without even realizing it. Gazarria Stardust is everything we have left of him. You are his Legacy and she is his Treasure.” I get up.

“You've become quite talkative in your absence, I see.”

“I'm just getting started.” I look the Saber over one last time too. “He'd raise Hell if he saw you as you are now.” Emerald opens one eye to me. “Don't you dare insult him or his memory. If you won't do it for you then do it for him. Eat and live.” She growls at me, closing the eye. I wrap the chain around my wrist and make sure the Stone is safely secured. I leave the Cat alone and return to the Throne Hall. I stare at the table and the two chairs. The Ghost of Wykren haunts my mind. I see the Shadow of Him raise his head off the papers and smile at me... I sit down on the cold marble, with my back against the desk and just stare into nothing...

A light nudge wakes me up. Well, my reflex, at least. My hand grabs something, before my eyes open themselves. Lyma. I let go of his throat.

“Sorry about that.” I stand up.

“Don't. I deserve more.” Again with the...

“We'll see. What's this?” A handful of soldiers stand in the middle of the hall. They kneel and bow, all the way to the floor.

“Master Ira!” Someone begins. “There are no words for the shame we feel.”

“We failed as the Shadows.”

“We failed you, Master.”

“We failed the King.”

“We failed Noxanda...”

I turn to Lyma. He has his gaze down to the ground too. Oh boy.

“First of all. If you wish to ask for forgiveness - I am not the person to seek it from. Go and grovel at the Heirs feet. She's the only victim here! It's because of your poor judgment that the child lost her father!” My voice rings across the room. A few bodies flinch from it... That or the words are hitting a nerve somewhere...

“Second. You are no use to me dead.” A few heads peel themselves off the marble. Death is Salvation. Living with the knowledge that you are the reason why your King is dead will be a punishment worse than Hell.” A mouth opens. I hold my hand up.

“Three.” I take in some air. “Failing to clearly instruct you on the importance of disobeying and, or going against your King for the sake of his own safety, is the burden that I shall bare for the rest of eternity.” All eyes are on me now.

“Four. Not all hope is lost. Perhaps we can pursue the bastards and take revenge.”

“About that. We tried.” Lyma begins. “The Cornutese did not let us through.”

“What about the Balli?”

“The former Warchief paid his respects. That was all. Considering his age, we were surprised to know he was alive still...”

“And Repperi?”

“Sent flowers and a letter.” How kind of them. I roll my eyes. “I replied with a thank you.” Lyma adds quickly.

“Good.” I nod. “I understand the information was provided by the Balli in the first place?”

Lyma nods.

“They lied! We are certain of it!” Someone speaks up.

“Proof of that where?” I throw a glare. Silence. “From what I understand, going on a hunch, the horde of bandits might have been the creation of our making.”

“Impossible!”

“The next one to speak before allowed will have their life taken by me.” I say. Silence. Good. “Considering how well the Land of Race has been doing for the past two decades, it comes to me as no surprise that someone here could have seen it as an easy way to get things. People defect to Rebellion because they are unhappy here and think of Rebellion as some sort of a Promised Land. Because the conditions here have improved, there is no reason to go over there. Our system was keeping the outside forces at bay. We failed to install a safety measure for threats within the land itself.” I notice a hand. “Yes?”

“Why would anyone choose to do something like this?”

“Simple. Because they can. Not everyone share our Noxian collective believes on life and its values. Ballista is a vast country. There are too many of them to keep in check. Clearly their system failed. Whereas we do not have the right to intervene within another land's affairs. It should have been discussed at another summons between the nations, but what's done is done. So that's one theory.”

“You have another one?” Lyma asks carefully. I nod.

“It wouldn't surprise me if the Land of Exile was where the bandits originated from. It's North of Ballista. Even with the mountain range - Earth Shamans would be able to come through it. However. That part is trickier to investigate.”

“How can you be sure it wasn't the Rebellion?” Lyma asks a good question.

“This was too organized. Rebellion would have gone through Ballista like a raging wild fire. And. If they have - the Balli would have stopped them.”

“I find it difficult to argue with that logic...” Lyma says.

“Anyway. I'll need a day to sort through all of this.” I point to the papers, scrolls and parchments on the desk. “Wait for your orders till then. Dismissed.” The fighters hesitate for a few seconds then quickly bow and scatter. Lyma tries to leave, but I stop him.

“Lyma. I don't know how much this will ease your mind, but please know that I don't blame you for what happened. I blame the moron who got himself killed.”

“That's alright, sir. I blame myself plenty.” He smiles at me. Such a painful smile...

“If it's not too much to ask of you, I'd appreciate it if you would stay here. I need people I can trust now more than ever.”

“Master, with all due respect, I believe I lost that right when the King died on my watch. I do not think I deserve to be here for a moment longer.” Seems like he's taking this quite personally...

“I understand. However. For the time being I do require your assistance. If you could find the strength to bear with it, it would mean a lot to me. More than I am able to describe right now...”

“I...shall try...”

“Thank you.” I bow to Lyma. “Excuse me.” I pull his chair away from the desk and begin sorting through the paperwork, without sitting down. Lyma leaves me without saying a word more.

“Bad time?” A voice distracts me.

“Blain. You're still here?” I stare at the man.

“Nice to see you too.”

“Sorry. Right. Of course.”

“Save it. I have a decent idea of the current situation. I can't imagine how you'll manage.”

“I'll try my best.” I nod.

“Better do it fast. The Geezers won't sit quiet for long.” Blain warns me.

“Speaking of. Why haven't they made a move yet?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Who knows what the old farts are thinking.” That gets giggle out of me. “Oh, and ah, don't worry. I'll continue to serve Noxanda's Royalty for as long as I will be deemed useful.” He bows.

“Appreciate it.” I nod.

“Sure. I'll leave you to it, then. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“If there's anything I can help with.”

“Actually.” I run over to him. “See if you can get some spies into the Land of Exile. You are in charge of the Beasts, are you not?”

“Training. But sure. I heard the theory. I'll see what I can do.” Blain offers me a hand. I shake his forearm like in the old, Military days.

“Thanks a bunch.”

“I'm sorry, though. He was an idiot, but he was a good man. I know how close you two were... It must be difficult for you... Not to mention the Queen and the Heir...” Blain looks down as he speaks.

“My loss is nothing compared to theirs. I'll manage. I know he was a good friend to you as well. How are you...”

“I manage. Doing anything I can to help is the least I can do to repay him... It doesn't change anything for me, even with him gone. This isn't just about me. It's about all of us.” Blain's eyes are a complete opposite to Lyma's agony.

I smile. “Appreciate your service. At ease.” Blain giggles.

“I'll see ya.” He limbs out with his wooden leg and I get back to the desk. My biggest headache right now is to decide which way to go first. Confirming the Peace Terms and Conditions with Cobalus seems like the logical choice. Then again. If we wait any longer - the bandits, rather what's left of them - can cross over and will be completely out of reach. If they haven't already... If we try to pressure Venatus without the Balli back up that might spring more trouble for us... Need to think calmly here... I smile at the thought. Calm is the last thing he'd be right now... I read through the letter from Primerias... They seem determined to continue on. They offer to help in any way they can... Sending bandits after our King sounds too barbaric for the sophisticated Primerian taste, but I can't be too sure about anything right now... I wonder if they would agree to let us in to take a closer look at things? Not that I even know where to start... Then again - can't hurt to ask... I begin writing up a response... Lyma has sent a thank you note as the Vice-Chief. We'll see if my name still means anything...

“Well, at least someone here hasn't forgotten their responsibilities.” A voice speaks. I lift my gaze up. The Head Geezer of the Council.

“More than you. At least.” I drop my eyes down again.

“Ah, well we would help if he could, but our hands are tied. You know. The Council is not welcomed.”

“To dictate, not to aid.” I keep going through the papers.

“Ah, well that's not what the King told me.” Persistent Geezers - Noxanda's greatest curse...

“What did he tell you, refresh my memory? All of you Robes look the same to me, it's hard to keep track of you in single digits.”

“Hilarious. I see your time off has done you good. Must be infuriating to be pulled back in now.”

“Get to the point.” I stop and stare.

“Very well.” The Geezer grins. “I promised our King that I'd be the one to take his head personally should he ever make a mistake.” He never mentioned it to me. Of course not. I would have taken the Head Advisor out the next second. Which would have brought more trouble... But. A decade ago would have done the trick. Wait. I dive through the Shadows and emerge an inch away from the Geezer. I grab his robe and stick the dagger into his throat. Barely puncturing the skin.

“Tell me. Just how much did you want to take his head all this time?” My whisper almost a growl. I'm struggling to hold back...

“Hands off me, mutt.”

“Talk. Now.”

“Plenty.” The geezer admits.

“So did you come here now to gloat and mock?” The blade presses in more. The geezer grins.

“I wish.” He says. “However.” I hold the dagger in check. For now. “As much as it pains me to admit it. The fool did our country good. After two decades of watching from the sidelines, I had to admit defeat. The meager trials that we threw at them could not compare to their initiative. Peace within the Old Continent seemed nothing more than a pipe dream. Yet the brat made it happen.” The robe is either telling the truth or centuries of lying is paying off.

“I'm a sore loser, but not an idiot.” He says.

“Then what do you want? Why show yourself now?” I keep pressing the blade in for good measure.

“Entertainment. I was wondering what will happen next”. He grins. I smash my forehead into his nose. Blood gushes out.

“ISOLENCE!” He gurgles. I pull him to me again.

“The King is dead. The Queen is in shambles and the Heir is fighting for her life.” I growl the words out through my clenched teeth. “You dare to call that entertainment?” I'm at my limit.

“A King, getting himself killed by some thugs is rather ridiculously hilarious, wouldn't you say?” The geezer grins with a bloody smile. I knee him in the gut and lean in.

“If I find out, proof or no proof, that you were behind this, I will. Skin. You. Alive.” I whisper into his ear.

A cackle rings through the Throne Hall. “I'd love nothing more than to take the credit for that. But I would have loved to do it myself more.” The geezer answers. Disgusting. No other word to describe it.

“Congratulations. You've just made to the top of my kill list. Show yourself here, or anywhere near Noxanda's Royal Family again and I'll make an exhibition out of you: 101 ways to skin a Robe. Same goes for the rest of your pals.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Watch me.” I let the robe go and walk away from him, back to the desk.

“I am the Chief of Security. The safety of them is my top priority. My leave of absence cost our people their King. Rest assured, I shall not make the same mistake twice. As of today, I am Chief Secretary, an active replacement for the Ruling Pair until the Queen makes a full recovery and is able to resume her post as the Ruler of Noxanda. All matters regarding Noxanda's faith, withing its borders and out, shall be taken care of by me. As Chief of Security, I shall eliminate any threat, inside or out, to Noxanda and its people without fail. As Chief Secretary, my first order of business is to disband the Council. Your services are no longer required. You have a day to vacate the perimeter. Fail to do so and you shall face the consequences on the spot.” I stand behind the desk, right between the two chairs.

“As Chief of Security, I proclaim the Council to be a security risk to the Royal Family of Noxanda. I am issuing an order to neutralize the threat on sight.”

“IMPOSSIBLE! YOU HOLD NO SUCH POWER!”

“Oh, but I do.” I show him the crest. “There are only four total of them in existence. In case you were not aware, the King crafted them himself. One for each member of the Royal Family. The Queen, the Heir, the Saber, the King. As well as this.” I hold the seal. “A single seal, that only those in charge have the right to possess.” I place the ring on the same chain as the crest and hang it on my neck. “SHADOWS!” A pack of Assassins surround the former-robe.

“Here is your chance to redeem yourselves. Make sure that the Geezer Council leaves no trace of them behind. Or we'll make sure not to leave any trace of them instead.” How long have I waited to say that.

“YES, SIR!” They answer in a single voice and escort the geezer out. Kicking and screaming. Wouldn't have had it any other way.