The four figures crouched beside the ruined fountain that had once served as the magnificent centerpiece of the Circle were still with shock and grief as the dark-haired female spellcaster in the violet robes collapsed to the ground, and for a horrible moment her fall was met only with silence. The tallest figure among them, a doppelganger with protuberant silver eyes, had seen enough of death in his lifetime to know that she was beyond aid. The macabre thought gave him chills, and he shook his head firmly as if to chase that train of thought away.

Another of their number seemed to come to his senses and stumbled forward a step, amber eyes burning within a face obscured mostly by shadow; his mouth fell open as if to scream, but in the end he fell to his knees over the woman with the ashen face and clung to her as her body grew cold in his arms. With a tenderness he himself hadn't known he possessed he brushed his fingertips over her eyelids to close her once-vivacious violet eyes, and bending low he pressed his lips to her brow, her cheeks, her lips, the tip of her nose, until he could bear his sadness no longer and bowed his head as he sobbed silently.

"I cannot bear to watch," said a third member of their group, another man enveloped in shadow whose eyes were pools of molten bronze and who wore charcoal gray robes emblazoned with odd runic symbols whose embroidery changed color in the light. "This is… There are no words for this."

The last of their group, a female with bold yellow eyes the color of radiant sunlight and a falchion belted upon her hip, lowered her gaze to the ground and spoke up in a regretful tone of voice. "As dreadful as this is, we cannot linger here. There is fighting still in many areas of the city, and many lives still at stake. We must decide upon a course of action, and decide now."

Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul, the shade with the bronze eyes, nodded once solemnly as he gazed upon the kneeling shade prostrating himself over the corpse of Aveil Arthien, the Archmistress of the Citadel of Assassins and something of an ally to the City of Shade. She was correct, of course, but where to begin? So much had happened, and in such a short period of time, that Brennus's head was still spinning as he struggled to wrap his mind around it all.

In only a few short days the grand city of Thultanthar, the last of the floating enclaves of the Netherese Imperium, had undergone radical changes – the effects of which would surely resound throughout the annals of its history. The doppelganger standing on Brennus's right, the enigmatic mindmaster called Phendrana, had at last chosen to sever his ties to the World Below and pledge his allegiance to the sole monarch of the City of Shade, High Prince Telamont Tanthul. Almost simultaneously the City of Shade had forged alliances with both Waterdeep and Silverymoon, though these peace treaties had been bound under less-than-desirable terms: all but the leader of the ruling body of Waterdeep had been slaughtered by a handful of the Most High's own sons, and the Lady of Silverymoon had only agreed to join forces with Thultanthar in a desperate attempt to keep her subjects safe. Just yesterday the High Prince's eldest son had requested the hand of Soleil Chemaut, the woman standing on Brennus's left, in marriage, and controversy was sure to follow – Soleil was neither of Netherese descent or Shadovar birth, and had only just learned that ancient dragon blood flowed through her veins. To cap it all the lichdrow Lim Tal'eyve had opened a portal in the heart of Thultanthar and admitted a host of phaerimm into the city, and even as they stood there considering their next move the aberrations continued to wreck havoc on several sections of the city. Not long ago Lim Tal'eyve had attempted to claim the life of Hadrhune, the chosen emissary of the High Prince who now wept over Aveil Arthien's lifeless body, and though that attempt had been unsuccessful and the drow lay dead in the pavilion he had managed to drag Aveil into the World Beyond with him.

Brennus knew that the last place for Hadrhune to be was on the battlefield, for in his state of overwhelming grief he could never hope to be of any use to anyone. "Soleil, can you escort Hadrhune back to the Palace Most High?"

These words served to spark the first emotional reaction in Hadrhune that was not sorrow – it was sudden, inconsolable rage. The seneschal whipped his head in the Twelfth Prince's direction, baring his ceremonial fangs in ferocity as he growled, "No! I will not leave her!"

"Neither will you remain here, completely unprotected with your judgment so clouded!" Brennus bellowed, his tone of voice leaving no room for leniency. "You will return to the Palace Most High at once, and Soleil will take you there. The Archmistress was a friend to Thultanthar – you should take her body with you, and deliver her to the High Prince. To do otherwise would bring dishonor upon her sacrifice, and that I will not allow."

Soleil was nodding along, albeit a little jerkily; it seemed she had yet to master her own shock at the way events had unfolded. She approached Hadrhune tentatively, as though afraid he would attack her if she moved too suddenly, and dropping to his side she laid one hesitant hand upon his shoulder. The seneschal started at the contact, but did not pull away. "It will be quicker if we shadow walk to the palace. Do you think you can manage that?"

Hadrhune was on his feet suddenly with Aveil's body cradled in his arms, but his eyes were lifeless and he did not meet any of their gazes. Soleil took his sudden movement as an acquiescence of her request and rose, clutching his shoulder with one hand, and Brennus was grimly pleased when they dissolved into thousands of shadow particles and began the journey to the Palace Most High through the vast, complex void that was the Realm of Shadow.

"If we have regained access to the Shadow Realm, then the lichdrow has undoubtedly passed," Brennus observed, relief coloring his tone. "Aveil Arthien has indeed made a great sacrifice – she may have saved us all with her bravery. It is a shame that we have lost her… Perhaps the Most High will take it upon himself to restore her to life somehow."

"Such things are within his power to grant?" Phendrana asked, clearly surprised, and the loremaster snickered beneath his breath.

"To an extent – though now is neither the time nor place for us to discuss such matters." Brennus glanced over his shoulder toward the northeast, where smoke was curling toward the sky and intertwining with the encroaching shadows that protected Thultanthar from the harsh glare of the sun. "I must admit, I am rather at a loss as to what to do next. We have been cut off from the rest of the Shadow Council for much of this ordeal, and I have no way of knowing how the others are faring. At this point we can only speculate…"

If Brennus said more Phendrana did not hear the words, for at that precise moment a mildly familiar voice washed through his mind. Your efforts are commendable, Phendrana, and you have my continued gratitude. Know that it is not necessary for you to fight any longer – the phaerimm have begun to remove themselves from the enclave, and at present we are no longer in further danger. Return with my son to the palace at once, for we have much to discuss.

By the time Phendrana became aware of his current surroundings again it was to find that Brennus had seized him by the forearm; the loremaster's curious bronze eyes all but filled the doppelganger's field of vision. He opened his mouth to voice his concerns, but Phendrana cut him off with a quick shake of his head. "I heard the High Prince's voice just now… the phaerimm are retreating. He wants us to return to the palace."

"Then we would do well not to keep him waiting," Brennus observed, and tightening his grip on the mindmaster's forearm he whisked them both into the Realm of Shadow.

The journey through the Shadow Realm was short, and far less disorienting than Phendrana recalled; briefly he wondered if he was actually getting used to such unsettling happenstances, and he even allowed himself a fleeting moment of panic to follow that train of thought before the youngest shade prince dragged him back into the plane of existence he was most accustomed to living in, thus interrupting his reverie. They had arrived in the High Prince's audience chamber, with its thick veils of shadow clinging to the walls and standing candelabras lit with deep violet flames rimming the deep basin in the floor that housed the world window, an enchanted viewing pool that had the power to show one anything they asked to see. The audience hall was crowded when they appeared, and glancing around Phendrana noted that only Hadrhune, Soleil, Second Prince Rivalen, and the High Prince himself were missing from their midst.

Something has happened, whispered Vadania, the orphaned snow elf druid who was one of six deceased heroes who took up residence within Phendrana's brilliant but heavily fractured mind, and silently the doppelganger agreed. From what Phendrana had witnessed in his short time spent among the Twelve Princes of Shade the Most High was seldom missing from the affairs of the Shadow Court – surely if he was absent now, some ill had befallen them.

Doubtless it has something to do with the Archmistress, Alax hypothesized, and Phendrana agreed with the half drow almost at once. Alax was a cerebrex, a rare breed of wizard who specialized in manipulating the many facets of the brain to perform magic, and logic was one of the greatest weapons Alax had at his disposal. Perhaps he believes that she can be saved… his second eldest son is missing also, and his absence is most likely not coincidental. Does he not serve the role of cleric among the princes?

You are right, agreed Ristel, the water genasi who served as an elemental savant and often the voice of cynicism as well. Though I confess… I have little confidence in his ability to solve this.

Phendrana felt Brennus release his arm and jerked his head to the side – several of the loremaster's brothers were approaching at length, talking quietly but rapidly as they made their way. Now is not the time for these assumptions, Phendrana told the residents of his mind, pleased when their voices died away almost immediately. Something very serious is happening, and I suspect it has little to do with the trials we just faced.

He and the Twelfth Prince were joined then by First Prince Escanor – the Most High's eldest son, and one of Thultanthar's mightiest warriors – Fifth Prince Clariburnus – the captain of Thultanthar's military – as well as Eighth Prince Mattick and Ninth Prince Vattick, twin illusionists and senior arcanists at The College. Phendrana was shocked but privately pleased to find his hand immediately claimed by First Prince Escanor, who proceeded to shake the aforementioned hand with gratitude and gusto. "Words cannot express the heartfelt nature of my thanks," said Telamont's eldest son humbly. "When I think of what horrors may have befallen Brennus at the hands of the phaerimm that laid waste to The Circle… Had you not been at his side, I fear he may have been lost. Know that this day we are all in your debt, Phendrana."

Phendrana cracked a smile that was half pride and half embarrassment, for he was not used to accepting praise for his actions; he was momentarily spared from stumbling through a few awkward words of thanks when Clariburnus embraced Brennus tightly, his normally composed face taut with lingering tension. "We all feared the worst. This day has been taxing on us all."

Brennus returned his brother's embrace for a moment but was quick to push him back to arm's length, dozens of questions burning in his bronze eyes. "We were in The Circle with Hadrhune and Aveil – "

"I know," Clariburnus interrupted, "and if it was within my power to answer your inquiries concerning the situation, rest assured that I would do so. However, none of us are privy to this information. The High Prince was on the verge of addressing us when Soleil and Hadrhune returned with Aveil… We saw only that he bore the Archmistress's body, and then the Most High summoned Rivalen and they all departed together."

Brennus was at a complete loss. "And that is all?"

"Unfortunately," Mattick broke in, and he spread his hands helplessly. "He commanded us to wait here for him, but… I am not certain what they hope to accomplish."

The loremaster hung his head, looking so deplorable that Phendrana was compelled to drop Escanor's hand so that he could move to stand behind him and clap him bracingly upon the shoulder. When next Brennus glanced up to regard them, his eyes were shining. "We are both witness to the Archmistress's deeds – she made killing Lim Tal'eyve her final act, and I am certain now that it was the deathblow she dealt that forced the phaerimm to retreat from the enclave. She is nothing less than a hero to Thultanthar. Soleil and Hadrhune will say the same."

"Doubtless the Most High aims to reward her for her sacrifices," Escanor finished, "and restore her to life if such a thing is within his power."

They stood together for a long while, brooding, and it wasn't until many minutes later that Phendrana realized he was still clinging to Brennus's shoulder; hastily he dropped his hand uselessly to his side, feeling mortally embarrassed by his actions, though fortunately he was spared his discomfort a second time when the doors to the audience hall eased open and Soleil admitted herself. A wash of sympathy crashed over Phendrana at the sight of her, for she truly was in a piteous state: her hair and battle raiment were both disheveled and streaked with the blood of countless phaerimm, her eyes reflected her obvious exhaustion, and her numerous wounds had yet to be treated. Escanor moved to her side at once, followed closely by Vattick, who instantly set to work healing the injuries that most needed medical attention. She looked up to regard them all, and her words nearly floored them.

"Aveil Arthien lives," Soleil confessed, dumbfounded by her own statement, "though I know not how."

Little was resolved or explained that night; in the end Second Prince Rivalen made a brief appearance in the audience chamber that was just long enough to pass along the message that the Most High wished to dismiss them for the evening. As security was still a high priority for The Circle and all of Shade Enclave was currently in a state of destruction, Escanor issued a citywide curfew to the Shadovar residing in all districts, and also commanded that the Army of Shade patrol the streets to ensure the protection of all citizens until the curfew was lifted. Since The Circle had been utterly demolished and that effectively rendered the Princes of Shade homeless, they were all offered temporary quarters within the Palace Most High for the time being; most of them were all too grateful to accept, if only to dress their battle wounds and utilize the last few hours before dawn to find a moment's rest, but not all.

"I haven't time to rest," Fourth Prince Aglarel had snapped, pausing with one foot out the door and his assassin's cloak hanging in useless shreds of fabric about his compact killer's frame. "The admission of the phaerimm into the City of Shade is a gross violation of the security statutes that I myself am charged with upholding. Until such time as I can be assured that another breach is next to impossible, I will be strengthening the enclave's protective enchantments."

Escanor and Clariburnus entertained similar views.

"It would be unjust of me not to participate in the patrols," Clariburnus had told them solemnly, shouldering his glaive even as Escanor beckoned to him from the doors leading out of the audience hall. "The Army of Shade has long looked to me for guidance, and I will continue to honor their pleas for leadership."

Phendrana had lingered uncertainly near the doors, feeling that he should find a place where he might offer his services to them, but Brennus had been quick to assuage him. "There is little we can do for now… It would be wise for us to take some rest while we can, for tomorrow we will undoubtedly be busy attending to the reconstruction of The Circle."

He had then summoned one of the palace servants and left instructions for Phendrana to be taken to his private quarters, expressing his desire to return the books they had borrowed regarding the Dracon to the Grand Library before retiring for the evening. Phendrana had taken a light meal before bathing himself and dressing in simple clothes that had been left for his use, and though Brennus had yet to return by the time the doppelganger had made himself comfortable he was too weary to wait up. The room provided to him was sparsely furnished with two queen-sized four-posters as well as a few other essential pieces of furniture but was otherwise quiet and spacious; Phendrana chose the bed furthest from the door, suspecting that Brennus would want little more than to collapse the moment his errands were finished, and was fast asleep just minutes later.

The sound of the door opening and closing with exaggerated care was still enough to wake him; Phendrana knew it was Brennus because the prince's bronze eyes were still clearly visible in the near-complete darkness. The doppelganger managed to lift himself up groggily onto one elbow, albeit slowly; fatigue from the day's exertions was already settling into his muscles, and the soreness from his injuries was noticeable. "Is everything alright, Prince?"

There came the gentle sound of clothes rustling, presumably as Brennus slipped out of his loremaster's robes, followed by the soft but weary sound of his voice. "Everything is as well as it can be at this point. It wasn't my intention to wake you, Phendrana. Please rest. I will tell you all that I have learned in the morning."

Phendrana lay back down but didn't close his eyes, instead following Brennus's dark silhouette as it padded across the room and disappeared into the attached restroom. The door closed behind him soundlessly, and moments later a thin shaft of violet light shone from the crack between the door and the floor as the Twelfth Prince lit a candle. All was silent for a few heartbeats more, and then there issued the sound of running water; Phendrana lay perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe, listening as Brennus washed himself and allowing his thoughts to alight briefly on the way that the prince's black silk button down had drifted carelessly open over his smooth torso and the way his roomy trousers rode low on his narrow hips.

Predictably his impure musings were interrupted by Ristel, who was easily the most prone to remaining active in Phendrana's mind at all hours of the night. You entertain dangerous fantasies, Phendrana. To pursue Rosalles knowing full well that his well being depended upon your anonymity was one thing, but this?

For the third time that day the mindmaster was spared from stammering through a self conscious reply by the sound of the water faucet being turned off. It was quiet for a minute or two, just long enough for Phendrana to begin to drift off again, when the door opened a second time and Brennus exited just after extinguishing the single candle he had lit. The faint scent of night-blooming jasmine roused Phendrana this time, borne upon the air as Brennus crept past, and the pleasant aroma of the prince's clean skin clung to the inside of the doppelganger's nostrils like a kind of sweet torture. He heard keenly the moment when the vacant bed across the room took on Brennus's weight and the prince uttered a sigh of barely-audible exhaustion, and didn't dare to move for fear that he would alert Brennus to the fact that he had been lying awake and listening to his every move since the moment he had walked through the door.

The sound of the prince's even, content breathing wafted up to meet Phendrana's ears not long afterward, and though Phendrana was unbelievably tired now sleep didn't find him again for quite some time.