The overcast sky darkens the quiet throne room. She doesn’t mind though; her opal still shimmers between the patches of sunshine. It brings a smile to her face. Eclipse found the perfect silver holder, and now it rests beside her next to the throne. Its strange, she thinks to herself, how different it feels now. How this one thing beside her seems to put her at ease. It feels right, as if her mother finally returned to this room after all these years.

Sara sits on a stool beside the table stacked high with maps; her legs absentmindedly kicking the air. Her pencil draws over the scraps of paper while Lord Beckham drones on about Lex’s siege plans. Everything from preparations to arranging statewide communications is a struggle.

She hates to nag, but his indifference is costing them precious time. He salivates at the idea lecturing Sara on her behaviour but ensuring a messenger is available to hand out information is burdensome. Eclipse pulls her aside, forcing Sara to listen to his condescending ‘advice’.

“How are you?”

He’s asked her this question every day since his discovery on the balcony. At first, she hated it, it constantly reminded her of her weaknesses. They argued most of a night about his approach. She knows it comes from a place of love which is why she chooses an honest approach when he asks.

“I feel anxious. Like the moment before the wave hits the rocks. What will the Council do to me if I step out on that battlefield.”

“When did you begin to care what Godfrey thinks of you?”

“It’s different now, before I was a student with a grudge. Now I’m forced to consider diplomacy for the betterment of my people.”

“Will you put diplomacy before the well being of your people?”

“You know I won’t.”

“Then you have your answer. Godfrey needs to accept he cannot control everyone and everything. He does not know what this kingdom needs, but you do.”

She pats his head before returning to the table. Between Sara’s drawing and a map is another memo from Lex outlining the siege preparation. She's grateful for his attention to detail but his constant updates make her anxious. What was then a vicious nightmare is now a grim reality. Urgent footsteps reverberate across the room as guards escort the Lollardum messenger. He's dressed in the royal colours of brown and gold and wears a white feather in his brimmed hat.

But where's Nicole and Chris, they should’ve returned by now.

The messenger, a youth with smooth skin, pays his respects but says little. His narrow eyes regard her like a dangerous novelty. She accepts the sealed envelope and dismisses him; rereading the lines, ensuring there’s no mistake.

“They agreed to help us, but they only granted us half the forces requested.”

Eclipse roars, “of course, that regal bas—”

“It's fine.”

“Your Majesty, this is unacceptable,” Beckham adds.

“I know it isn’t favourable,”

“It sucks,” Sara frowns.

“Well yes, that too. But we’ll make it work. Perhaps we need more faith in our men before we place all our hopes on Lollardum.”

“Your Majesty, may I remind you there are important matters to attend to.”

“Yes, and we’re attending to them now. The siege preparation is underway.”

“No, I refer to the matter of you.”

“Me?”

“I arranged for you to stay at Eadwine Palace, your family’s winter residence. Give the word and I will have the carriage packed. Of course, Her Young Ladyship will accompany you.”

“Moira, there’s another palace? How many do you have?”

“My lord...I won’t retreat to the winter palace.”

“Where is it you plan to be?” his face twists into a scowl, adding, ‘Your Majesty’ as an after thought.

“I will fight.”

“I beg your pardon. Fight, with the soldiers, I insist you reconsider.”

“I will not reconsider anything.”

“This is the last straw!” Every ounce of rage he’s withheld, stuffed further away until it’s a coal about to explode, fires in all direction. “Not only do you refuse to see reason, obey your advisers, but you fought every detail since you waltzed passed that Gate. You entered this war without my permission and now you decide to fight in the army! With no heir or successor? Is there no sense in that brain of yours!”

“...’my permission’?” Her temper boils, building steam with each step towards him. “Let’s be frank, shall we? I listen to my advisers; I listen to Lord Orbit and the others with legitimate concerns. I fight the court on decisions because the political structure warrants it. We argue, we listen, and we work together because it's how to conduct a successful government. I fight you because you push your selfish agenda.”

“This would never have happened under your father! But once you walk in, we are suddenly up to our elbows in blood!”

“You preyed on a broken man and made him your figurehead! Of course, there weren’t conflicts, you control everyone and when I refuse to follow suit you try to sabotage my efforts!”

“Accusations from a spoiled brat! Spouting these fantastical claims—how dare you!”

“What’s fantastical is your belief that you possess authority over me. You are a counsel. Nothing more. As queen, I pick and choose from everyone. And your opinion is the last opinion I ever consider.”

“Then your place is out in the dirt with the army, clearly, you are best suited with blood on your hands than at court!”

“You haven’t seen blood yet!”

“Moira stop this!”

“No Eclipse, he thinks I’m dangerous.” Their faces are inches apart, his menthol cologne stings her nose, but she isn’t the one who flinches. “Are you scared, my lord? You haven’t seen a real Mage on the throne. Unlike my father, I won’t be exploited and locked in a palace on the other side of the mountains. I swore an oath to protect the Innocent, the weak, and to maintain the balance of justice until my last breath. So yes, I will fight on the battlefield. I will shed blood if the Gods desire it.”

“Foolish Mage pride! This exact reasoning is why your family is dead!”

Her scream as her mother collapses echoes in her ears. Her father’s limp body falling from the sky grips her heart. But its Kipling’s laugh that stirs her blood.

“Enough!” in a flash, her hand makes impact against his cheek. The onlookers stand like statues as he comprehends what happened. “My decision is final. I rule Alexanderia. Never you, for as long as I breathe. If you disagree there’s the door.” He stands in defiance. Seconds become an eternity as the divide between them grows in the silence. Both have too much to lose if they walk away. In the quietude, they create a pact. A treaty between warring nations on the precipice of destruction. “Keep in mind, my word keeps your head attached.”

He swoops his hand over the table, sending the papers cascading over the floor. He storms from the room, nearly knocking Zack over as he enters. The knight’s expression switches to concern as he survey’s they mess littering the floor. Sara jumps to action gathering the papers. But the silence between Moira and Eclipse is unsettling. He barely utters a coherent sentence as he presents Eclipse with a parcel under his arm.

“Did someone get a present?” Sara scuttles over to them as her wide eyes assess the box.

“Moira, open it." The panther instructs. She unwraps the dusty paper half expecting a new threat to spring from inside. Lifting the lid, she finds the glittery material she always dreamed of wearing.

“Eclipse…how?” her fingers shake pulling free the first article of clothing.

“Some one gave you a curtain?” Sara remarks but he flicks his tail at her leg.

“They’re the robes signifying my new rank,” she whispers. Is this a dream? The delicately woven flowers and stars intertwine to form a shimmering knee-length cloak. The featherweight material makes a familiar ‘clink’ like chain mail. The rare mithril armour is strong but refuses to sacrifice mobility for safety.

“Congratulations on the promotion,” Zack smiles.

“The Council revoked my rank when they removed me from the Academy,” she returns the cloak to the box. “I’m forbidden from wearing the Imperial Robes. But it’s a nice gesture, thank you.”

“Your abilities surpass most of those imbeciles.” Eclipse argues, “you do not deserve punishment for actions beyond your control.”

“There’s no way the Council agreed to this.”

“It was a difficult process (which was the reason for my extended absence) but they overturned the original decision. Grandmother made your robes; she will not take no for an answer.”

“We don’t want to upset the little old lady,” Zack jokes, nudging her to accept the box.

“And Godfrey agreed?”

“They voted in your favour. He chose not to veto the decision.”

“That doesn’t make sense. He’s fought this promotion for years.”

“He values his reputation over creating enemies among the Members.” She can't hide the smile plastered on her face. He made her dream a reality. But if she wasn’t Godfrey’s enemy before, she is now.

“Moira got new clothes!” She announces as Chris and Nicole arrive. She scurries to them holding the box for them to see, “she’s promoted and everything!”

“Moira! Incredible! Congratulations!” Nicole squeals, embracing her friend.

“So, this is an improvement from before?”

“Yes, I’ve reached the highest rank a Mage can achieve,”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he brings her hand to his lips; “Gods help Umara.” A light kiss grazes her knuckles; his eyes playfully gaze into hers. “Oh, by the way, I got this from Theo on the way over. Said it’s from Lex.”

He pulls out a sealed correspondence. It’s short and to the point. But isn’t any less terrifying. Our scouts report Bellavere is en route. The simple message is enough to force bile up her throat. She hands it to Zack as she quietly replaces her cloak into the box. He purses his lips but maintains his composure. He reads it to the others with more professionalism and authority than she can muster. The hand behind her back trembles but she tries to stay calm. It’s happening. This isn’t a dream.

“So, that’s it, huh?” Chris shoves his hands in his pockets. The joyous atmosphere chills, as the group searches for the words hanging over them.

“There is last minute preparations I must attend to. I suggest you and the court move to a safer location,” Zack adds.

“No, I will fight beside you and Lex.”

“Very well,” he bows, “I’ll have the men ready a horse for you.”

“Have you considered the outcome if you encounter Kipling on the field?” Eclipse interjects. There’s no question of if, I’ll find him and kill him. “Disarming him is your best course of action. But I advise caution.”

“Are you sure, you’re doing this? I mean, Moira, let the soldiers handle it. I’ve been reading up on Mage tactics. Basically, your best shot is if the enemy keeps their distance. But that’s not how war plays out. You could end up killing your own soldiers. Even Zack. Then there’s the question of whether you lose or break your staff.”

“Chris stop.”

“It causes incredible physical strain to use magic without the aid of the staff. The event in the mountain is one thing but can you sustain it?”

“You’re both acting like I haven’t considered this all before.”

“My point stands; you must disarm Kipling as soon as possible. Do it effectively, and do not overexert yourself.”

“You’re not allowed to die!” Sara slams her foot on the floor drawing everyone’s attention to her. Her frame trembles, and her face turns a bright pink. “You aren’t supposed to leave me anymore, you said so!”

“Sara!” she calls, but the girl rushes from the room towards the staircase. She follows, but her skirts prevent her from catching up to her.

“Leave me alone!”

“Don’t run from me! Not this time.” Sara pauses in the doorway, straddling both rooms. Her chest aches as Sara sniffles back her tears. Its Dragon Haven all over again. They’ve come so far, but not far enough. Some scars don’t fade. “Please, come here.”

“Why? You’re going away like everyone else.”

“It’s a scary possibility. But I promised to protect you, and this is the only way.” “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Then don’t.” Sara wipes her nose on her sleeve. “Why can’t they just go away and leave us alone?”

“Because adults always make things complicated. The same man, who killed our families, is marching towards us. And he’ll kill anyone who interferes. I swore an oath. And—” wiping the child’s tears, “I promised your mother I’ll protect you. I spent my life being afraid and running away, then I met you, and I realised I don’t want to run anymore.”

“But you’re the brave one. You battle monsters and win. And Kipling’s like a monster. He needs to stay away for good.”

“I’ll make sure of it. It’s you and me kiddo. If we lose everything, let us keep each other. No matter what, I’ll always be with you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“If you ladies are finished, there are important matters to settle.”

“Eclipse why do you always ruin our fun?”

“Because, twerp, without a ringleader this circus will close on opening night. Now, it is time to get Sara’s belongings packed.”

“Where am I going?”

“The Eadwine Palace, do you expect to remain here while an army marches to our gate?”

“I’m not going if Moira isn’t.”

“Like she said," she shrugs.

“She is a child.”

“I’m not a child, I’m eight years old! My Mommy and Daddy didn’t hide. And I won’t either. I stay.”

“As you wish, Your Ladyship,” he bows his head and Sara grins with a curtsy. Nicole shuffles her to the kitchen with the promise of dessert and Chris excuses himself.

“I accept placing yourself in danger, but letting her remain here?”

“I don’t trust them, Eclipse.” Their argument earlier confirms the wave of anger behind Beckham’s cordial air. “I don't want Sara or Nicole at his mercy. My sudden death will cause Alexanderia to slip into political chaos. Let the Lords stay where they are and keep Sara in the palace.”

“By remaining here, the army considers any attack on the palace as an attack against the crown. The army is obligated to protect everyone residing here.”

“As opposed to them beating her and throwing her into the ocean on the other side of the mountains. For all I know, the soldiers with Beckham will become his enforcers if he fights for my crown. Here Lex and Zack, if they survive, can protect her.”

“Well, my little Mage, you grew into an opposing figure.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she teases, “I know you already considered the whole situation days ago.”

“You are a victim of your overactive imagination. But at least you are considering potential future events. Perhaps my fear of your mouth contributing to your assassination is unfounded.”

“I’m sure someone will come up with some reason or another,” she pats him on the head.

“Have you considered the event in which Kipling succeeds and she is in the palace?”

“Kipling won’t make it to the Gate. You have my word.”