The Emperor descended from the dais and his daughter went with him. The First Mage and two other mages made to follow, however a quick word from the Emperor sent them off in another direction. Toric, Drax, and Marrick followed along behind the gaggle of people that seemed to think they were all going with the Emperor to this “private” audience.

The three of them were soon admitted to a new room. Toric was slowly becoming convinced the Imperial Keep was an infinite mass of rooms. This new hall was named the Red Hall, and Toric could find no reason for such a name that he could see. There was a large fireplace and set in front of it were three couches and several plush chairs. The Emperor sat down in a chair with a sigh, placing the short spear he carried on a side table and lifting his hand toward the other chairs.

The Princess sat on a couch and Drax decided to be brave and sit on the same couch. Marrick sat on a couch opposite the Emperor and Toric first put his sword and hammer down on a table before settling down on the chair to the Emperor’s immediate right. Looking around Toric realized that the guards had thinned out the group following them immensely. There were three praetorians inside the room, and a single mage that walked over and joined Marrick on his couch. That was it, and the door had been shut.

Reaching down Toric sat his helmet on the table next to the sheathed falchion and took a moment to breathe deeply. He looked up to find the Emperor staring at him.

“You are a fascinating young man, Toric.”

The Emperor’s voice was kind and much quieter than it had sounded in the echoingly large throne room.

“In the space of an hour I have seen you behave as a well-groomed Prince, a battle-hardened warrior, a gracious noble, and a tired young man; but you have yet to act as what you are. I have been led to believe that you are fifteen years old, and grew up living at the tavern your step-father ran in a small town. You, young man, are an enigma wrapped in a riddle.”

Marrick and Drax looked just as interested in Toric’s response as the Emperor. The Mage was watching the proceedings quietly and the Princess was behaving like a petulant child that wished she was anywhere else.

Toric cleared his throat before speaking.

“I have been dwelling on those very facts for the last few hours. The only solutions which make any sense to me are that either my mother and father implanted event-triggered memory packets in my mind, or Artur has been instructing me while I was unconscious. I am leaning toward the second explanation being the case. I have vague memories of dreams that involved endless battle, wearing this armor and wielding these weapons. As I entered the throne room I had a flashback on a memory of standing in that same room and learning the ins and outs of how to act in such a circumstance. I am disturbed by this possibility; as the only reason I can think of for Artur forcing such information into my mind is that I might not have the luxury of spending the time needed to learn in the normal fashion.”

At the mention of the name Artur the mage became much more interested, focusing on Toric like a cat watching its prey. Even the Princess looked a bit more curious instead of annoyed. The Emperor frowned in thought and then nodded once.

“That may well be it young man, that may be it indeed. The actions of Artur have oftentimes been … opaque to say the least. However, he always seems to act for the best. Vorxin briefed me on your recent conversation with him, and I wish to say a few things to you. First I need to apologize for the Mage Tremalyn. He acted foolishly out of pride and in doing so cause you great harm. The mark of his failure will be with you always and for that you have my apologies. Also, the actions of some of my praetorians earlier were inexcusable. I have no idea what came over them, but you have my assurances the matter will be investigated fully.”

Toric raised a hand and broke in.

“Your Majesty, please, I have something to say about the Praetorians.”

The Emperor nodded for him to continue.

Toric acted through instinct, feeding a bit of the enormous power he could feel within himself to the ghost that had not left his side since the incident. Slowly it became visible to the others. They reacted predictably, yelling and screaming and jumping to their feet.

Toric spoke quickly, addressing the ghostly image of the praetorian.

“Praetorian, you did not act against me of your own will, did you?”

The now fully manifested spirit spoke in a voice that seemed to whisper against Toric’s flesh.

“No, I was compelled to act. I do not know where the impulse came from, but one moment I was infuriated at what I saw as a lack of respect to my Emperor, and the next moment something seemed to just nudge me over the edge from fury to action. I was thrusting my spear toward your side and then you moved. That strange feeling came over me again and I thought to hurt your friend instead and shifted my aim to the one called Marrick. I saw my friend fall and you cast his spear. That is all I remember Walker. Will you release me from this plane now?”

The Emperor was standing and staring at the ghost in amazement. Then he turned to the Mage and enquired of him.

“Does he speak the truth, Daniel?”

The Mage was staring not at the ghost, but at Toric. At the Emperor’s question he jerked his head back around to look at him and nodded mutely, then shook his head and spoke.

“Aye my lord, a spirit cannot lie to a Veil-Walker. I am sorry for my surprise; I was unaware that the young man was a Walker.”

While the Emperor and the Mage spoke, Toric had stood and walked up to the spirit of the first man he had ever killed. His hand rose and the still bare skin of his palm pressed against the ghost’s forehead. Of all mortals, only a Veil-Walker could physically interact with spirits, and that ability was for this purpose. Words flowed into Toric’s mind and he spoke the release, performing for the very first time one of the duties that had come with his transformation into a Walker.

“As a Walker of the Veil, I, Toric of the House Fatesblood, release this soul to the Judgement of Men. Go thee now and face the weighing of thy soul for either the bliss of Paradise, the agony of the Inferno, or another Turn upon the Wheel.”

There was a bright flare of light and the spirit was gone. Toric smiled as he felt the soul depart for another chance upon the Wheel of Life. Turning back to his chair he froze when he saw every person in the room staring at him in slack-jawed wonder.

“What?”

The Princess was the first to recover, surprisingly enough.

“What was that?”

Her voice is melodic and soothing, thought Toric.

He scratched the back of his head and smiled shyly.

“Eh, well, it just appeared in my mind. It is the ceremony of release and a responsibility of all Veil-Walkers. Sometimes spirits become stuck on this side of the Veil. This can happen for any number of reasons: those that die under a compulsion, children that do not understand what has happened, people that have unfinished business, suicides, and those that fear the Judgement. It is a Walker’s duty to send them on, whether they want to or not. Spirits do not belong on this side without an anchoring body, and much of the problems with ghosts and the undead are the result of spirits that became stuck and in their despair at their loss of life, they become bitter and do much evil.”

Toric shook his head hard and grabbed at his temples.

“Dammit, how did I know that!?”

Realizing what he said he apologized.

“My apologies, Lady. I should not have cursed; it is simply that I am having a difficult time reconciling what is in my head.”

The Princess no longer looked annoyed or petulant. She actually looked concerned and intrigued. Usually she could not stand all the noble boys that her father brought around; hoping that one might catch her eye. This one seemed different, and it looked as if her father genuinely cared about him. She waved off the apology.

“No need to apologize, Toric. May I call you Toric? You have been a perfect gentleman so far and I am certain it was just a slip of the tongue.”

Toric’s first thought was that she could call him anything she wanted, but his damnable memory said he could not say that, and then it offered another phrase. This one literally dripped with sweetness and he shuddered internally. Deciding to go with something a bit different he responded.

“I would be honored if you addressed me so, my lady.”

The Princess smiled.

“Thank you Toric and I insist you call me Krysty.”

Toric jolted and then smiled.

“As you wish, Krysty.”

While Toric and the Princess were having their conversation, all of the older men in the room were very quietly smirking, the Emperor included. They all carefully turned and smiled at each other before looking back at the two very young people totally ignoring the rest of the room. Finally the Emperor cleared his throat and addressed Toric again.

“Thank you Toric for adding that bit of information. I will have Daniel here check into the compulsion angle. I wanted to know if there was anything we could do to make your stay here more comfortable. And I was asked by the Legion Ambassador to inform you that one of the Legion Galleys arrived last night and is at your disposal. They greatly wish for you to make a visit to the Island as soon as might be possible. Also, I have had word sent to your grandparents, Sul and Karynia that you are here. I received a reply early this morning. They are on their way and were overjoyed at the fact that they would get to see you again soon. It will take them several days to fly the distance as they are far too large to teleport easily. Since there is no great rush; we decided it would be easier for them to fly.”

The Princess looked puzzled.

“Why would his grandparents be too big to teleport, and how could flying be easier? It takes a lot of magic to lift a person for just a few minutes, let alone days.”

The Emperor looked at his daughter.

“I have told you of Sul and Karynia, have I not?”

Krysty frowned in thought, and Toric decided it was an adorable expression on her face. After a long moment she shook her head and looked over at Toric.

“Could you please tell me the answer Toric? I know that look on my father’s face; he thinks this is funny and is going to be impossible to get a straight answer out of.”

Let’s face it; it is not often that you hear someone say something like that about an Emperor. Toric laughed out loud.

“It is pretty simple Krysty. I am a dracuman, and my mother was a dragon. Her parents are Sul and Karynia and they have not seen me since I was just a baby. I do not remember them at all.”

The Princess looked startled and then had an obvious epiphany. She snapped her fingers and pointed at her father.

“I do remember. They were two of the dragons that came to help with the war. It was such a romantic story when the dragon and mage fell in love, but I have always hated the tragic ending.”

Then the Princess gasped and spun back to look at Toric.

“Oh goddess, I am sorry Toric. My father should have prepared me before all of this. I know who you are now, and I am so sorry you had to grow up without your parents.”

He smiled sadly and bowed his head toward her in thanks for her sympathy. Then Toric sat back down and the topic shifted from the serious discussions to other things. Drax joined in and made a few jokes that caused serious bouts of laughter all around the room. The short private audience turned into a long evening that the Emperor would remember later as one of the few times during his rule that he was able to completely relax among people that were not his immediate family.