The night quiet was disturbed by the clanking of armor and the stomping of running feet. Rough shouts and the flickering light of lanterns filled the courtyard and spilled to the rest of the sleeping palace. The imperial guards were on the hunt. All this commotion soon reached even the most isolated mansion of the palace complex and its slumbering inhabitants.

Garbed in a soft black robe, Primate Leopold hunched over a stack of documents, a steaming cup of tea accompanying his late-night read. Flipping through the pages, his lips silently moved as his finger followed the crooked lines of various handwritings. His well-shaped eyebrows twitched, furrowing or arching as their owner devoured the information his spies had gathered on Lionel's exploits. From time to time, his hand would slide under the table and give a pat to the small mountain of fur curled on the carpet and receive a content purr in return, but otherwise, he remained completely engrossed in the reports of his nephew's misdeeds.

At first glance, Lionel's actions seemed erratic, nothing more than the escapades of an unruly youth. There were women, alcohol, love potions, a new drug called 'The Angels' tears'. He had gambled with nobles, slept with their sisters or daughters, occasionally with their wives, and planned the most disastrous military campaign the Empire had had in decades. However, the shadow of Master Argente persistently lurked around. That fiend had appeared at court almost seven years ago, introduced by the Crown Princess' nanny, Domna Amazgari, as a poor young alchemist and healer, a lone survivor of a snake-hide epidemic that had killed his whole village and left him hideously scarred. In the years after, Master Argente had shown no significant achievements, occasionally assisting the imperial physicians and giving aphrodisiacs or migraine potions to the court ladies and nannies, but otherwise quietly spending time in the imperial libraries or praying at the White Brothers' temple at the capital. And yet, somehow, that unknown potion master had become closer and closer to Lionel. Whenever that foolish boy got involved with a court lady or a servant girl, the silver-masked shadow had crept around. Was he the reason for Lionel's erratic behavior? Who was he serving? If he came from the Crown Princess' side... was this a plot by Llewellyn and Noah to discredit their brother? Or even worse?

Primat Leopold pinched his nose. He couldn't find the right thread to pull and untangle that messy knot twisting around Lionel, and the peace and quiet he so desperately needed in order to do so were denied to him tonight. The shouts and the clanging of armor that entered through the open window had grown louder, and the cleric could no longer feign ignorance.

Throwing the papers to the side with a frown, Leopold stood up and walked to the window. Breathing in the fresh spring air, the smell of smoke filled his nose, reminding him of the nights spent on the battlefield. Lanterns and torches dotted the garden like a swarm of fireflies. Halberds stabbed through the bushes and poked in the tree crowns.

A low growl came from behind his back. Turning around, the man was met with two glowing green eyes and a set of sharp teeth.

“I know, Pixie.” Leopold stretched his hand and patted the feline’s large head. “Trouble is coming our way.”

As if summoned by his words, rushed steps echoed before his door and the muffled voice of the head maid seeped in.

“You can’t enter! His Holiness is resting!”

Leopold shook his head and slowly moved away from the window. While crossing the room, he made sure to grab his sword from its stand near the table but refrained from drawing the blade. Just as he reached the door, a heavy knock landed on the polished wood. Leopold’s eyebrow twitched. These guards were likely newbies to dare and treat the private chambers of a primate, and an imperial prince at that, with such disrespect. Well, by the mercy of the Two Fathers, he had some lessons to teach tonight. Before the second knock landed, Leopold opened the door and the eager guard and the head maid blocking his way almost toppled inside the room.

“What is all the commotion?” he said quietly, using his towering height to stare daggers at the intruders.

“I am sorry, Your Holiness,” the maid bowed. “I couldn’t stop them.”

“If you were capable of stopping seven imperial knights by yourself, I wouldn’t be able to afford your salary, Aggie,” chuckled the cleric but his cold gaze remained fixated in the soldiers. “I am still waiting for an answer… captain.”

The leader of the small group gulped but remembered to stand straight and salute.

“I am sorry for disturbing your rest, Your Holiness. However, an assassin made an attempt on Prince Lionel’s life.”

“What?” Leopold’s eyes squinted. “Is my nephew alright?”

“Yes, Your Holiness. The prince is perfectly fine. Unfortunately, the assassin managed to escape. He was last reported fleeing in this direction.”

“That explains a lot,” mumbled the cleric but then raised his voice again. “Still, this doesn’t explain what you are doing here.”

“We are here to assure Your Holiness’ safety.”

‘More likely search the place and keep an eye on me,’ thought Leopold. ‘Not going to happen.’

“Captain,” the cleric put his sword before him, the metal tip of the scabbard giving out a clang as it rested on the floor, “tell me, who am I?”

“Pardon?” the other man blinked and his comrades looked just as confused.

“You said you are here to protect me. Am I a damsel in distress?”

“N-no… But… according to protocol any member of the Imperial Family…”

“Who am I, captain?” Leopold raised his voice and his teeth flashed in the lantern light.

“You are His Holiness Primate Leopold Aurelius Limeria.”

“And?”

“And…” the guard licked his lips and looked around for assistance but his comrades were staring at the towering cleric like sheep at a hungry lion. “And…”

“I am this Empire’s Grand Duke,” with a hissing clang the sword in Leopold’s hand left its scabbard and gleamed red in the flickering lights. “I am the leader of the Night Brothers. With the blessing of Saint Ursule, I am the head of the Immortal Battalion, the first to enter and the last to leave any battlefield. By the time you were still learning how to sit straight, I was already chopping enemies’ heads and battling beasts. Do you think that I need protection?”

“N-no… But…”

Before the man could finish, a loud thud came from the room behind Leopold.

“Assassin!” screamed the guard and lurched forward, followed by his comrades.

The Primate cursed. To stop the storming soldiers, he probably had to cut their heads off. Resisting the temptation, he did the next best thing and simply stepped to the side. As the men entered his room, an angry roar echoed in the hallway, followed by the metal clang of armored bodies colliding together.

“Easy, Pixie!” shouted Leopold and followed after his uninvited guests. “They aren’t dinner.”

What he saw as he entered his bedroom made the cleric smirk with glee. Right before the window stood a black cat the size of a bloodhound. It was baring its finger-long teeth at the petrified guards and greeting them with a growl that reverberated in one’s bones and called forth primal fear.

Sheathing his sword, Leopold knelt beside the cat and rubbed it behind the ears.

“Easy, Pixie. Calm down, girl. If I were you, captain, I would lower those weapons. Pixie is still a kitten and can’t control herself well, especially when she is spooked by strangers.”

“K-kitten? S-spooked?” the leader of the guards gulped and felt the sweat run down his brows but didn’t dare to wipe it. “It’s a lion! A black lion!”

“It is,” came the short reply as Leopold’s scratches had managed to turn the bone-chilling growls into purrs. “So tell me, captain, between my blade and my pet, do you still think that I need to fear any assassins?”

All the guard could do was shake his head in defeat.

“Good. So now, if you don’t mind, I would like you all to leave my room. If you so much need to guard something, go guard the stables or the kitchen, or the cellar, but don’t come back up again. Pixie likes to wander the floors at night and I don’t want to burden the staff with cleaning a bloody mess.”

“Y-yes, Your Holiness.”

With a weak reply, the captain and his men backed away. The head maid, who had coldly observed the whole spectacle, bowed to her master and carefully closed the bedroom door behind them.

Left alone, Leopold heaved a sigh of relief and ran his fingers through the lioness’ black fur one final time before standing up.

“Let’s see what really spooked you, girl,” he whispered.

A rough tongue licked his fingers in response and a large paw tapped on the carpet just below the window. However, Leopold’s eyes had already found the clues even without his four-legged assistant. Right where Pixie was standing, a dark stain covered the colorful pattern of the rug.

Blood!

Leopold could see a smudge on the windowsill too but, luckily, it had remained unnoticed by the guards thanks to the moonless night and the fact that their attention had been preoccupied with Pixie’s teeth. He patted the lioness’ neck.

“My clever girl. Where is he?”

The lioness chuffed and her snout went in the direction of the loosely hanging bed curtains. A frown appeared on Leopold’s face. Due to the warm night, he hadn’t untied them. Besides, it was only one half hanging free. If the guards had been more observant, the situation might have ended badly. Leopold’s heart tightened. Such negligence, together with the blood, didn’t spell anything good.

“They are gone, Ermin,” whispered the Primate but instead of going to the bed, he turned to shut the window and pull the drapery.

After a second of silence, a muffled thud made the cleric jump around. A black-clad body sprawled on the floor, half of it still hidden by the bed curtain.

“Er!”

Before Leopold could react, the black lioness hissed and pranced forward, her rough tongue giving the blond head now resting on the carpet a few licks between worried growls. The Primate quickly shooed her away and knelt beside his half-conscious friend, his fingers gently touching the other man’s body. As they traveled down the right arm, Leopold could feel the wetness of blood and also something else – a hard, sharp protrusion sticking out of his friend’s elbow.

“Damn it, Ermin, your bones should be inside your body, not out!” mumbled the cleric and was rewarded with a faint smile from his patient.

Carefully pulling his friend up, Leopold managed to put him on the bed. From a nearby drawer, he pulled out two handkerchiefs and tied one of them above Ermin’s fractured elbow to stop the bleeding. After that, he poured some water into the washing bowl near the bed and dipped the other one in before wringing and putting it on his friend’s forehead. A weak sigh escaped Ermin’s lips as he closed his eyes.

“Don't you dare! You’ve lost too much blood. If you fall asleep, you won’t wake up!” grumbled Leopold and picked up the sword he had carelessly thrown on the ground. “Not a peep or the guards might visit us again. Will you manage it?”

Ermin opened his eyes a crack and gave the cleric a side glance before nodding briefly.

Grabbing the sheathed blade with one hand and the hilt with the other, Leopold positioned the cross-guard and its white decorative gem over the wound. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths until his straying thoughts calmed down. His heartbeat slowed and its rhythmic thumps drowned every other noise. Leopold took a final breath, imagining a stream of light entering his body with it. As his lips parted, his voice sounded distant and deeper.

“In the name of Saint Ursule, I besiege thee, Holy Sword Ardrun. For all the souls you have consumed, give me one back. For all the wounds you have inflicted, heal one in return. Obey my will, for I am the one following your Master's path. My soul is the Light of Lustris, my body is the Darkness of Norn, my will is the one of the Righteous. In the name of Saint Ursule, I command you, Holy Sword Ardrun. Heal!”

Before the last sound dissolved into nothingness, a dim light spread from the white gem on the cross-guard, covering Ermin’s wound in a milky glow. The younger cleric bit his lips as his whole body cramped. With a crunching noise, the protruding bone sank back into its place.

After maybe nine or ten excruciating minutes, the light coming from the gem dimmed. With a thud, the Holy Sword fell from Leopold's weakened fingers and slid on the floor. With his last strength, the man leaned over the motionless body on the bed. Tears still trickled from Ermin’s closed eyes and his lips were bitten bloody. Despite that, his chest was rising and falling in a calm rhythm. With shaking hands, Leopold rolled up his sleeve. The elbow looked normal and, as the man tried to move the arm, the joint seemed to work properly. Only a big jagged scar indicated the place where the bone had stuck out.

“Pathetic,” mumbled Leopold, as his eyes trailed up to the second ugly scar that crossed Ermin’s throat. “A Holy Sword is meant for a Saint, not a mortal… Maybe I should be grateful that it works even that much.”

Suppressing the budding feelings of guilt and regret, the cleric squeezed his friend’s hand and planted a kiss on the still-bloody fingers.

“Sleep for now, Er. I will leave the nagging for later.”

Kneeling on the ground with his upper body leaning against the bed, Leopold relinquished the fight with his growing fatigue. A warm, furry body pressed against his as Pixie curled up by his side, her glowing eyes watching over her sleeping masters.