A/N: Thanks to ChaosLightning, Kirin'sDaughter, loonyloonylupin, I Forgot, and Serami Nefera.

And sorry ChaosLightning that it still seems like a deus-ex-machina, but I can't do much about it.

Only other thing to say is this chapter takes place about two months after the last one.

X-X-X

Prince Vrail walked through the halls of the Palace, having just finished a meeting with the Council. But his mind was wrapped around what his father, Restil, and his King's Own, Beltran, had told him after the meeting. There was more activity in the Wendwinter Forest and the area around than there had been since Valdemar had been founded.

And that could mean two things: another kingdom was growing in the north, or that an army was being raised, and he was sure it was the second.

Vrail wasn't sure why his father hadn't told the Council, but had a feeling it was something to do with not enough information or he didn't want them to panic. It was always his excuse.

But still, Valdemar had never been in a war and the only military it even had was local militias on the border and a small Guard around Haven. They had the Heralds too, but there were only twenty or so.

But now that I think of it, Vrail thought, this year there were six new Trainees; more than we've ever had before. Is the impending war why?

Now Vrail was in the library, cutting through the small collection of books to get to his room. He absent-mindedly saw Beltran notice him and approach, so Vrail automatically stopped.

"You shouldn't worry about it you know," said the very old, wizened man, which made Vrail think of how he had been able to beat him to the library. Beltran had been the King's Own of King Valdemar before Restil, and before that had been a friend and seneschal of Valdemar's when he had been a Baron of the Aurinalean Empire. "There is a reason we didn't tell the Council about it—because everything will be fine

Vrail nodded, but didn't feel as comfortable as Beltran and Restil that this would cool down quickly enough. It couldn't hurt to be prepared for a fight, could it?

Vrail soon said good-bye and left—he had to go get ready for Rothas' mage lesson, which would be starting soon.

He hurried out of the library and to his room, where he changed quickly into less formal clothes and hurried out the door again into the Collegium, where there were shielded, made-for-mage-training rooms. Vrail reached the room in less than two minutes, but found Rothas already there.

"Have you been here long?" Vrail asked. He had sensed that Rothas was angry right when he had walked into the room. He didn't need Empathy to tell him that. As if to emphasize the point, Rothas only nodded shortly with a look Vrail couldn't identify before Rothas turned away. "Good," Vrail said, trying to not let his annoyance show as he put shields on both of them. "Now start by forming a low-level shield."

Sky-blue mage energy started to wrap around Rothas gracefully, almost instantly. It looked like Rothas had been doing this for years. Even if Rothas had some trouble with some things, one thing he could do was look professional.

As Vrail continued to observe the shield with his Mage-Sight, he noticed how well Rothas' sky-blue would blend with Lythe's forest-green shield. But they would only work on melding later, when both of them were more experienced.

Suddenly, Rothas' shield started to falter, like his concentration was breaking, and so Vrail called out, "Concentrate, Rothas."

"I know," Rothas suddenly said angrily, his shield completely disappearing. Vrailrealized howlucky he was that nothing had exploded from Rothas' sudden burst of anger, and his annoyance doubled.

"What's wrong with you, Rothas? Since two months ago, you've started avoiding me, you started ignoring to me when we actually do meet and constantly arguing with me during these lesson when I should think I know better than you do!"

"That's just it!" Rothas shouted, a sudden wind blowing his hair. "It's all about you! You, who knows best! You, a spoiled Heir! You, the legendary Windrider! You, the snobbish, conceding, ungrateful person you are!" Rothas hiked out of the room, leaving Vrail in shock about what Rothas had just told him.

X-X-X

Rothas marched out to the Companion's Field to the spot where he had sung long ago with the Companion. Back than he had been content,but now he was furious. How could Vrail, the person who had everything—wealth, power, fame—steal the only thing he had, Lythe! How could Vrail say he knew better when he wasn't any older than Rothas himself! How could he be a friend, when he cared so little about how Rothas felt.

He can't. He can't be a good friend … He isn't a good friend!

Rothas leaned against the wooden tree behind him and closed his eyes, tears trying to go through.

He didn't have Lythe. He didn't have Vrail. He didn't have anybody. He was alone and no one cared. Not his lifeblood. Not his best friend.

Rothas looked up when he Felt a calming, powerful presence near him. It was the Companion, the one he had accidentally sung to.

"At least I have you," he said bitterly. "That sure says something. The only person I have isn't a person at all, but a horse. A horse is more my friend than my supposed-best friend and my supposed-lifebonded. Yeah … that definitely says something."

He was mildly surprised when the Companion didn't snort when he called him a horse, but felt grateful for it. He couldn't handle anything right now. Not a Companion mad at him. Not seeing any person. Not anything.

He heard his name being shouted, and Rothas looked up quickly. Vrail was heading towards. Rothas groaned. That was the last person he wanted to see. Vrail knew exactly why he was mad at him, and Rothas wasn't in the mood to apologizing.

It's him who should be apologizing to me anyway.

The Companion nickered, and tossed his head, and Rothas could only look in shock.

"You want me to ride you?"

The Companion nodded, and Rothas trying to get all thoughts out of his mind, jumped on. The Companion suddenly ran off, faster than Rothas had ever gone, and Rothas was finally able to do it. Finally able to get all thoughts out of his mind.