The problem with logistics was that they took a lot of time. Getting people to organize, especially any large number of people, was a process that could take hours — and when their time was limited to seventy-two hours, every single one of those hours were inconceivably precious.

All of this was the reason Misa was working overtime in a job she hated. Having a dozen copies of herself was useful for tasks other than combat, it turned out, even if that wasn't anything Misa preferred.

That was the case for all of them. They were far outside their comfort zones, working to evacuate the kingdom; for the most part, at least, people took the threat seriously.

And it would have been fine. Their efforts were working; the people of Elyra were slowly but surely leaving, convinced by either the rebels or their neighbours that staying was a bad idea. The Guild and the rebels together had coordinated a number of caravans that would carry enough supplies for the citizens to make the trip to Anderstahl. The old and infirm, the ones that had the most trouble moving — they used the Guild's teleporters to move, though the mana supply it ate was, according to the Guildmaster, exorbitant.

Which was about the moment the nobles chose to interfere.

Mostly, it was Wisfield. But Ashion was there, too. Vex's eyes darkened when he saw his father standing proudly with the other nobles, his arm folded across his chest like not a single thing was wrong. His fists clenched when he saw Riss, his little brother, standing next to his father.

Riss had no idea what was going on, of course. He was just happy to be there. But Karix should have known better.

"I need to go," Vex said shortly.

Derivan glanced at him, concerned. "Do you need—"

"No," Vex said, and his eyes softened a little as he took in Derivan's worry. He shook his head and gave Derivan a small hug. "No, this is something I need to do alone. We need you to help with the evacuation. You're the one with Shift, remember?"

"I am." Derivan accepted Vex's words, and his next ones were said with affection. "Be careful."

Vex nodded.

Derivan's portals were by far responsible for the most movement; he kept a portal open in the center of each district they were evacuating, and it was the job of the rebels and the other people in the area to slowly corral everyone towards it. He watched as Vex left, keeping his portal open for the civilians to file through, and hoped the lizardkin wouldn't be forced to fight.

Not against his own father. Not again.

Vex took a deep breath.

Karix and the other nobles stood atop the wall on the northern edge of Elyra. They stood proudly, too, like they were standing against all that was evil and wrong; the head of the Wisfield house was there, right down to the glorious gray beard that stretched down to his knees, his arms folded across pure-white robes.

"Elyra is stronger than this!" he called out. His words were amplified with Karix's magic, thrown out throughout the kingdom. The northern gate was where they were evacuating everyone; it was closest to Anderstahl, and all their caravans were kept outside, just beyond where the nobles were making their stand. Vex was almost afraid to look, worried that Karix would have destroyed them.

But the Guild had defenders around each caravan. They would be alright, he hoped.

"We can weather any storm!" the Wisfield head continued. He had no name — the head of House Wisfield went by the title of Speaker. As far as he understood it, it was some grandiose attempt to make themselves seem like they spoke for Elyra. "We do not need to run like cowards!"

The civilians were muttering amongst each other. Not all of them looked convinced; if anything, most of them seemed annoyed. But there were those amongst them that seemed like they were arguing with their fellows — telling them how they'd been right all along, and how evacuating was unnecessary...

Vex sighed. He found that he was tired.

He'd been dreading this moment for years. He knew he'd need to confront his parents eventually — his mother was there, too, Prissa, a proud yellow-scaled lizardkin that stood tall next to his father. The other nobles that stood alongside them he didn't care about, except to briefly worry that they would interfere.

At least Riss wasn't here to see this.

The flight spell to bring him up to the wall was simple. The Speaker stopped as he came into view, and Karix faltered, the amplification rune he was using flickering out of existence as Vex stared quietly at them. He wondered briefly why this had taken him so long.

It shouldn't have taken him this long, he thought. He'd been scared of Karix, and while he didn't blame himself for feeling that way, he no longer understood why.

"Dad," he greeted.

"You may have noticed we're in the middle of something," Karix said. His voice was tense, and so was his posture; Vex wondered what he was thinking. Karix knew he'd sided with the rebellion, surely. He couldn't have thought that they would just be ignored.

"What are you trying to do, dad?" Vex asked. He was almost surprised by how he sounded — not frightened, not angry.

Just tired.

"We're trying to fix your mistakes," Prissa snapped at him. Vex looked at his mother, and something about the look in his eyes made her glare back at him indignantly. "Don't give me that. Look at what your father and I have to do just to—"

"Mom. Dad." Vex's voice was quiet. "Elyra is dying. We're losing our home. I wanted to give the kingdom back to the people, but I didn't want this place to die."

"Then you shouldn't have—" Prissa began. Vex waved a hand; [Silence] was a useful spell, in times like these. It didn't escape his notice that neither of his parents could dispel it, even though his mother tried.

Karix didn't bother trying. He simply watched him. Vex didn't know what his father was thinking — his expression was unreadable. His mother looked outraged, but it wasn't like she could say anything.

The Speaker, too, was just watching them. So were the rest of the nobles. Vex didn't know why they were being so polite, but in that moment, he didn't care.

"Elyra isn't dying because of anything the rebels did," Vex said. "What Wisfield did with that god they tried to make... That sped things up. But they didn't cause it, either. Elyra was already dying. It began dying ever since growth spells stopped working, and now it's going to be erased. There's nothing we can do about it. We haven't figured out how to stop it yet. The best — the only thing we can do is to get everyone to safety. Do you understand?"

Prissa didn't, he could see. His mother was still struggling against his spell. The Speaker was still silent, but he saw the stubbornness in the way the man stood. The only person who seemed to pay him any actual attention — the only person who was listening to what he had to say — was Karix.

Which came as a surprise, to him. Vex wasn't sure what he'd expected when he'd come up here, but it wasn't for anyone to listen to him. He was expecting a fight, maybe. He was expecting that he'd have to defend himself, to run away; as powerful as he was now, he wasn't guaranteed victory in a fight against this many combatants. Maybe in his dragon form...

But no one was fighting. Many of them looked at him condescendingly, sure. Most of the nobles didn't believe a word he said, save for one or two that seemed uncomfortable.

For now, Vex only had eyes for his father. Karix's expression still seemed unreadable.

"I had a dream the other night," Karix finally said. His voice cut through the silence, mild and strangely subdued all at the same time. "Did you have anything to do with that?"

"Dad, I cannot possibly know what you're talking about."

"I was guarding a door," Karix clarified. Vex didn't respond for a moment, but his mind raced; he remembered that moment clear as day, as much as he tried not to think about it. Irvis had summoned a copy of his father to protect the Ashion part of the dungeon, and Vex had been forced to fight him.

And then, when they'd instead reached an understanding, Irvis had killed that copy of him. Karix had fought back; had used the last of his strength to freeze Irvis and give Vex the time he needed to work out a solution, but...

He still remembered father dying in front of him.

That wasn't him. Not really.

But it might as well have been.

"Irvis is dead now," Vex said. Karix stared at him for a moment, and then nodded, as though satisfied.

"Good," he said, and then he turned to the Speaker. "Effective immediately, I resign from my duties as the head of the Ashion House. Our magics are no longer yours to use, and our people are no longer yours to command. Not that we ever were to begin with."

"Karix," Prissa hissed. Vex blinked at her; she'd managed to dispel his magic. Good for her. That was more than she'd been able to do years ago, so she'd been practicing.

"It's for the best, my love," Karix muttered, his voice low. "It seems we have underestimated our child."

To her credit, Prissa didn't argue with him. She looked angry, but she seemed willing to listen to what Karix had to say. Vex didn't fail to notice that that was more credit than she'd ever given him; she didn't consider what he had to say seriously unless someone else vouched for him first.

"He is our child, I suppose," Prissa said, resigned. Vex held back the response he wanted to give; that he'd earned all of this on his own, and the implication that he'd achieved it only because he was their child was... insulting.

Fortunately, he was distracted by the Speaker choosing this moment to speak. "You cannot do this," he said. His voice was calm, but the grip he had on his staff was tight; evidently, he hadn't expected Karix to side with his son, or to pull back so suddenly.

"I think you'll find that I can," Karix said calmly. "If you stay, I hope you enjoy your time in Elyra. It seems like your remaining time will be quite limited."

The Speaker grit his teeth. "Fine."

Vex watched the interplay between Karix and the Speaker, then glanced at his mother, whose gaze was focused somewhere in between the two of them. He'd spent a long, long time learning to read her expressions, and something about her expression here was strange. It was almost... smug.

Vex sighed.

He was, he decided, really quite tired of all this.