Pale turquoise light reflected on her face as the transporter flared to life. When the light faded, several men stood before the group. They were clad in the armor of imperial soldiers, silvery white chest plates emblazoned with the royal insignia and matching helmets that concealed their faces. Melia wasn't surprised that a squad had been sent to greet her. Though her companions reached for their weapons by reflex. She picked her way to the front of the group, shooting Shulk a meaningful look as she did so. He backed down.

"Welcome home, Lady Melia," one of the soldiers said, stepping forward and bowing his head. "We are relieved to see you unharmed. Please allow us to escort you to the Audience Chamber." He raised his head and craned his neck to view the Homs and Nopon that stood just behind her. "Who are they?"

His voice was nonchalant. And she knew he'd noticed them before he'd decided to acknowledge them. As if he was trying to send a message: You don't concern me. His brandished sword told a different story.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Be at ease, Captain Ivar. These people are my guests. Have one of your men make arrangements for them, please. I would ask Catlaina to do so, but I really must be on my way. I am sure His Majesty wishes to see me immediately."

One of the men closest to the transporter volunteered himself for the task then disappeared into the city. She appreciated his eagerness. The rest of the soldiers awaited their next instruction. Despite her insistence that her companions were friendly, they kept their weapons at hand. She suppressed a scowl and dismissed them. A whole squad wasn't necessary. Waste of resources, honestly. She'd have to mention it to her father.

The captain stayed, watching his men scramble to obey Melia's orders. Once they were all gone, he addressed the princess again. He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

She gave him a perfect, cultivated smile, accompanied by a shake of her head. "Actually, I ask that you remain with my guests. They will need a guide to help them traverse the city. Give them a proper tour, if they'd like." Her gaze shifted to Shulk. "Perhaps I'll join you later on."

Without waiting for a response, she stepped onto the transporter. In a flash of light, she entered Alcamoth. Her diplomatic smile turned genuine as she walked through the tunnel. She couldn't hide the expression, didn't want to. The thought of being home once more filled her with warmth. Yet, it also set her heart pounding erratically. Was it really okay to come back? It felt like it had been centuries since she'd stood here, on the main road amidst the sprawling lawns and crowds of High Entia. Perhaps she didn't belong anymore.

But she let her homesickness win out over her doubt. Now that she thought of it, it seemed strange that she could miss someplace so much when she had only been away from it for a short time – just over a day, in this case. And even stranger since she'd been on longer journeys in the past. Perhaps that nagging sense of loss and loneliness deep within her was to blame.

Sunlight filtered in through the dome overhead. She filled her lungs with Alcamoth's air, lost herself for a moment. The simple joy flooded her system. Like slipping into bed at the end of a long day. She wished Damil was here. She wished they all were.

There was no use wishing. They were gone. They would never come home or see their families or… She forced that train of thought off its rails. At least she had avenged them, put them to rest, when she killed the Leone Telethia. She no longer needed to think about them because each moment spent mourning was a moment in which she roused her fallen friends from their sleep. Just to make them look down on her, see the mess they'd left behind. She knew it was the truth, yet she couldn't stop. How could she forget them?

She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. Enough of this… Her father awaited her report. She didn't have time to stay in one place, pitying herself. With her lips set in a determined line, she strode forward.

Everyone she passed turned to stare at her. Murmurs brushed against her ears, but she wasn't close enough to discern the actual words spoken. They kept their distance. She looked past them, through them. As she'd been encouraged to do since childhood. It always made her feel a bit guilty, acting like she was above her people. But now, it shielded her from their gossiping. Sort of. Subconsciously, she knew what they were saying…

She wanted nothing more than to disappear into the Imperial Villa, hide in the gardens she loved so much. But her father was expecting her. Without Kallian as an excuse, she doubted he would take kindly to her tardiness. The emperor wasn't known for an overabundance of patience, after all. So, rather than wait for the ramp to pull her up to the palace, she walked with it. As soon as she disembarked, a feminine voice called out to her.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't ignore it. She swallowed her annoyance and turned to face the owner of the voice. A short Homs Entia woman sprinted toward her. When she stopped in front of the princess, she doubled over, panting. Melia recognized her as Shalen – the Lighthouse manager – and frowned. What was she doing in the city?

"Your Highness!" she managed to gasp. She curtseyed hurriedly, an afterthought. When she spoke again, she stuttered and could only manage a few words before pausing to gulp more air. "I only just heard. From my… assistants. I… I had to…"

"Shalen, please rest a moment." Melia led the exhausted woman to a bench near one of the bubbling fountains. "We may discuss this issue when you've regained your breath."

The woman nodded and sat down. She wiped sweat from her brow, sighed shakily. Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes. Not yet ready to fall, waiting to be provoked.

"What's wrong?"

"It's all my fault," she said as the effects of physical exertion subsided. "I should've known something wasn't right. He was acting so oddly when he came by yesterday, asking for a report."

Melia's brow knit itself together. She perched on the bench beside the distraught Lighthouse manager, angling herself so that their knees almost touched. Keeping her voice low, soothing, she asked, "Who are you talking about?"

"Prince Kallian." Shalen covered her face with her hands. Whether to hide her shame or to protect herself from Melia's reaction, Melia wasn't sure. "And I know… I know the report is never gathered so early in the week. But I was so busy, I didn't really think about it until later. When I realized, I decided to check with Jarack. The report for the Ether Plant is collected at the same time so… He said His Highness hadn't visited. Then, a few hours later, my assistants saw him and—"

Shalen cut off, her slumped shoulders shaking as sobs tore through her body. Uncertain, Melia patted the woman's back. This had never happened to her before and, if she was being honest, the whole ordeal made her uncomfortable. She didn't like reassuring people in distress nor did she like what she thought the Lighthouse manager was implying about Kallian.

"There, there," she said, though she suspected the empty words would be ineffective. "It isn't your fault. You had no way of knowing that something was wrong."

"Thank you, Your Highness…" Shalen said when she'd calmed.

The conversation ended there. Shalen didn't speak again and Melia had no more comfort to offer. She excused herself, eager to meet with her father. Then after that… Well, she assumed she would need to have a word with her brother. Truthfully, the Lighthouse manager's half-told story disturbed her. Kallian had told her that he intended to go to Valak Mountain – a journey that took days in good weather and a week or more when forced to fight the winter storms. And if Shalen was to be believed, that meant the prince had lied.

In spite of the questions frothing beneath her skin, she appeared outwardly calm, friendly even. She greeted all the guards by name and shared a brief laugh with a maid that had stepped off the transporter to the Audience Chamber. Then, she took the girl's place on the faintly glowing platform, teleported upward to meet the emperor.

"—and yet you refuse. My patience is wearing thin."

Melia froze at the top of the stairs. Sorean sat on his throne. Kallian knelt before him, silent as far as she could hear. For a second, she considered spinning on her heel and leaving them to their argument. But her father saw her before she could move. She pasted a wan smile on her face. Then she strode forward to give her report.

As she drew closer, Kallian staggered to his feet and took his place beside their father. She greeted them both with a quick nod. Then she launched into her story. Recounting the gruesome details, her gaze strayed to her brother. He appeared paler than usual, eyes unfocused and lips tainted by a scarcely noticeable blue hue. At times, he glanced around the room as though confused. Perhaps it was her words that made him seem so lost in a place that he surely knew better than her.

She concluded her retelling and fell silent. The emperor's voice swelled with pride. For her. For the men that died. When he mentioned the lost soldiers, she tuned him out. It would do her no good to be constantly reminded of them. But one of his words still reached her, struck her like an open palm. Debt.

"Father, there is another debt to be discussed," she said when Sorean paused. "Five others aided me in my quest and I promised them passage to Prison Island."

"The Homs and Nopon that entered the city with Captain Ivar have been imprisoned." Worry deepened the creases in his face. "They were in possession of a dangerous weapon. I will not allow them to enter Prison Island until the divine seer assures me that they are trustworthy."

"But…" She wanted to protest. Of course they were trustworthy. They had ample opportunity to betray her and they hadn't. She opened her mouth to explain then shut it. Her father wouldn't understand. So, she bowed her head. "As you wish…"

Sorean hummed thoughtfully but said nothing more. The soft rustle of his robes alerted her to his movement. She felt the breeze of his passing against her face, heard his footsteps recede. Even when she was sure he was gone, she didn't dare look up. Chagrin painted her cheeks red. Unshed tears stung her eyes from the effort it took to hold them back. She didn't have the right to question her father's judgement, to disrespect him in front of the prince and all the guards. And with only one word, she could have sealed her fate.

A hand grasped her shoulder. It pressed down on her too heavily to be a gesture of support. She lifted her head slowly, met Kallian's gaze.

"Do not let him upset you, dear sister," he said, eyes still hazy with confusion. In the back of her mind, she noted that as strange. Her brother sounded too lucid to be as dazed as he appeared. "He's been behaving like this since you departed for Makna Forest."

"I see." She felt him pull back and grabbed for his hand, prevent him from leaving her. His skin was frozen. As if he'd recently dunked it in icy water. Reflexively, her fingers flinched away. And though the contact had been unpleasant, she tried to reach out again. He avoided her touch. "Brother… You're so cold… What happened?"

Kallian didn't respond, simply stared at her without expression. In the silence, as she waited to hear his voice, she found herself studying him. The glazed eyes and pallid skin. The shudders that he couldn't suppress. She knew what was ailing him – or thought she did, at least. But she couldn't bring herself to say it. Her mind flitted back to the snatch of conversation she'd overheard. Sorean's accusing voice rang in her ears. And yet you refuse. Refused what?

She crossed her arms over her chest, attempted to put her concern aside. If this was anyone other than Kallian, she would be angry. About the lies and apparent disregard for his own health. So, she made herself pretend. "I won't tolerate your dishonesty. Why are you not at Valak Mountain? Why did you take it upon yourself to get the Lighthouse report three days early?"

"I… Melia, please. Let's have this conversation elsewhere." He shrunk back, eyes lowered to the floor. "This isn't a topic I'd like to discuss in the presence of others."

The bottom of her stomach dropped out, but she nodded in spite of her sudden unease. She shouldn't have expected anything different. From the moment she'd heard Shalen's story, she'd known in her heart that her brother had done something the royal family wouldn't be proud of. And, whatever that was, she was determined to hear him out before setting her final opinion. She loved him, after all, and couldn't seem to free herself from the decade old habit of forgiving all of his wrongs, putting him on a pedestal.

Side by side, the siblings made their way out of the Audience Chamber. It was slow progress, with Melia still suffering a limp and Kallian seeming as though he might topple over at any moment. The guards eyed them as they passed. But none of the men tried to stop them. It wasn't worth the risk.

After what very well could've been hours of shambling through the palace, they arrived at Kallian's suite of rooms in the Imperial Villa. The prince collapsed into an armchair by the fireplace. When he regained his strength, he gestured for Melia to take any seat of her choosing.

She obliged and sank into the chair across from him. A servant scuttled out of a darkened doorway, draping a thick blanket over Kallian's shoulders then lighting the fireplace. She waited until the maid disappeared to begin her interrogation. The fire threw its heat upon her. Sweat gathered at her brow. She swept a hand across her forehead deliberately, opened her mouth to comment on the ever-rising temperature. How was he so unbothered? But then her rational side reminded her that she was not in the prince's chambers for a casual visit.

"Tell me what happened after we parted ways yesterday morning."

He heaved a sigh as though she'd asked him to do the impossible. His eyes stared into the flames, watching them dance behind the glass pane. For a moment, she wondered if he would answer. Perhaps she was only wasting her time.

But at last, he spoke. "I told Kennet that Father asked me to collect the reports early this week. When he attempted to follow, I ordered him to stay behind. He was confused and hurt. But he did as I asked. He's too good." Kallian grimaced. Or maybe it was meant to be a smile.

"Don't stop there," she said, edging away from the fire, hoping to escape the blazing heat. Against her will, a note of bitterness slipped into her voice. "I am so eager to learn what it is you lied to me for."

If her sharp words hurt him, he didn't show it. They might not have registered with him at all. He continued on as if she hadn't spoken. "I went to Eryth Sea. There, I obtained the Lighthouse report from Shalen then moved on. I never intended to visit Jarack. Collecting the reports was just a cover so that Kennet would leave me be." He made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"Why collect the Lighthouse report then?"

"Shalen caught me; I needed an excuse," he said with a slight shrug. The movement displaced his blanket and he pulled it tighter around himself.

He glanced toward Melia, caught her watching him intently. Barely a breath passed through his lungs before he turned away again, unable to maintain the eye contact. She wondered why he acted so guilty, but she ignored all her mind's answers. None of them were favorable.

"So, you didn't go to the Ether Plant," she said, tone neutral. It was a feeble attempt to get him talking again without being too confrontational. She feared that if she pushed too hard, he would shut down. And then the answer that seemed so close would be lost.

"I… I went to Hovering Reef 9." His voice sounded strangled. Tension bunched in his jaw as firelight glinted off the tear tracks on his cheek.

She'd never seen her brother cry before. Not when he was sick. Not at her mother's funeral. Even sympathy tears were beyond him. But now here he was, openly falling apart. The heat no longer irritated her; her entire body went cold.

"Don't make me say it," he whispered.

She shook her head, didn't care that he still wasn't looking at her. When her silence failed to convince him to speak, she stood. If he refused to be honest, the conversation was over. The threat of her leaving was the final push he needed.

"I jumped. Threw myself on the mercy of the sea. I wanted to die… But the current was too kind. It delivered me safely to the Centre Gate where Kennet was waiting."

Nausea kicked her in the stomach. She fell back into her chair, certain that, if she didn't sit, she would vomit. Her heart and mind raced against each other. She pressed down on the writhing mass of her emotions, but it couldn't be quelled. After Damil and Garan and Aizel and… NO. Not Kallian too. No more death. Her grief rose in her throat, blocking her cries from reaching the air. Shadows ringed her vision. She wasn't breathing. The cold of her dread vanished, replaced by heat. Not a pleasant warmth, but an inferno that raged across her skin.

"I'm sorry…"

"Why?" She could only choke out one word.

His lips moved but the ringing in her ears was too loud for her to hear anything else. He kept talking, oblivious to her condition. Because, outwardly, she revealed almost none of her turmoil. She sat, motionless, face a placid mask. Though perhaps he should've known better.

She waited out the storm. Like she always did. Her heartbeat eased, her lungs began functioning again. Her calm exterior never broke. Sure, it had cracked, but she held it together. And that's all that mattered. The princess façade she'd been forced to adopt. If she had any emotions left, she would have scowled. But she was numb.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said.

Kallian had turned to face her at some point during the last few minutes. His eyes scanned over her, searching for something. Then, blessedly, he gave up. She didn't have the energy to wall off her inner self.

As soon as she was able, she stood. "You need help, Kallian."

"I know," he said, bowing his head. He waited until she reached the door before he straightened in his chair. "Father and I fought over it earlier. Right before you… He wants me to accept treatment."

"You should." She paused, hand resting on the doorknob. Then she let it go and angled herself to face him fully. Her mind sifted through what she remembered of the past few minutes. The confession. The time he had spent dragged about by waves that had not yet warmed for the season. It was the final puzzle piece. Confirmation of her previous assumption. "You said the water was kind. But it wasn't. It's still killing you."

"I'm healing on my own," he said. He tugged on each of his fingers, causing the knuckles to pop. Melia winced at the sound. "Kennet got me through the worst of it. If I needed medicine… I think if the ice blight were that serious, I would've died last night. Why take it now? There are others who need it more."

Ice blight… She was glad that she wasn't the one who had to say it aloud. "We have more than enough for everyone." When her rationale didn't change his mind, she opted for a different tactic. She fashioned her lips into small pout. "Please. For me?"

Kallian groaned. "If it will put you at ease, then I suppose…"

She didn't wait for him to finish his sentence. Flinging the door open, she jogged into the hall. Her shin ached at the sudden strain. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. All she cared about was getting him help. The wound could reopen; it wouldn't change anything. She didn't stop running until she found the on-duty physician.

The prince lay in his bed, swaddled in a dozen fleecy blankets. His body temperature had nearly stabilized and the haze of confusion lifted. Thanks, no doubt, to the medicine he'd been given. Perhaps Melia was right. Although, he didn't appreciate the fatigue. The doctor mentioned it was a common side effect. He was tempted to let it carry him away. Anything was better than facing the crushing guilt. His mind kept running through the events of the previous day.

A part of him didn't want to give the physician the satisfaction of being right. He wanted to prove it was all a waste. That he wasn't sick. So, he distracted himself with positive thoughts, counting out all the things he was thankful for. A sister that loved and cared for him. His parents. Countless trustworthy friends. And, of course, his work with the Ministries.

With a soft creak, the door to his bedchamber opened. He might've flinched at the intrusion if he hadn't already predicted the identity of his visitor long before their arrival. Still, his stomach churned. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. The movement, even as slow as it was, caused a rush of dizziness. He glared at the figure in the doorway.

"How are you?"

"I almost died, but you already knew that," he said, lip curling in disgust. A chill took hold of him and he pulled the blankets tighter against it. "Melia is suspicious."

"What did you say to her?"

He shrugged then lay back down. Carefully, he turned onto his side, placing his back to the door and his unwanted guest. Though he attempted to ignore it, he could still feel the presence. That malevolent spirit that he wished would leave him be. They had all been happier before…

"You didn't tell the truth, did you?" There was worry in the question, but he couldn't take any pleasure in it. Not with his own apprehension eating away at him. "Because I warned you what would happen to—"

"No." He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the medicine would pull him down to sleep. Put an end to this whole nasty business. But it didn't. "I told her that I'd been hoping to end my life."

A pause. Then a laugh, burdened with malice. "Good boy. I'm proud of you."

He waited for more. Perhaps another set of instructions to follow. Silence persisted until the door slammed shut and triumphant footsteps padded away.

"Princess Melia." The guard's voice stopped her just before she could step onto the transporter that would take her back to the Imperial Villa. "His Majesty has requested that you join him in the Audience Chamber. I will be your escort."

Again? A twang of annoyance resonated through her. She didn't have time for any of this. Kallian needed her support. Even though she lacked any skill in comforting those who suffered – mentally or physically. It was foolish, but she thought, maybe, if she'd never left the city, he wouldn't have…

"Very well," she said, forcing her mind to be quiet.

The guard smiled, relief flooding his features. He stood a little taller then marched toward the throne room's transporter. As she followed along, she wondered what her father could possibly want. They had spoken less than an hour ago. He could have told her then. Unless this was a new development… But still, after their last conversation, she wasn't exactly excited to see him again so soon.

She and the guard teleported together. The proud soldier was only a few steps ahead of her as they materialized in the Audience Chamber. He led her to the top of the glass staircase. Then he bowed to her, gestured for the princess to proceed on her own. Such action only served to make her nervous. Why would he flee just before the meeting began? Surely, he would want to listen in. Only her father's anger could deter eavesdroppers…

Bracing herself for the worst, she continued walking until she stood before the emperor's throne. She dropped to her knees in a show of reverence. He deserved it after she'd had the gall to question his will. Her head tilted up slightly, her eyes darting over the ornate room. Sorean stood off to the side of the dais. He appeared to be locked in a fervent debate with a woman she didn't recognize.

When he noticed his daughter kneeling, he ended the discussion and returned to his throne. "Princess Melia, I would like to introduce you to Minister Asdis." He swept his arm toward the High Entia woman. "She is the new head of the Ministry of Records."

"A pleasure to officially make your acquaintance, Your Highness." Minister Asdis dipped into an off-kilter curtsey. "His Majesty and I were just discussing some documents my team uncovered regarding the High Entia Tomb. Very interesting discoveries. Actually, there were some diagrams on—"

The emperor coughed and shot the minister a hard look.

She blushed. "Apologies. Let me get to the point. We were concerned the public reaction to your status as crown princess would be… less than ideal. But along with those diagrams – would love to show you sometime, by the way – we found a possible solution."

"There is a ritual known as the Trial of the Tomb," Sorean cut in. He should have known better than to let Asdis have free reign of the conversation. Really couldn't trust her to stay on track. "In ancient times, our ancestors used it to determine whether a potential heir was fit to rule. We believe that successfully completing this quest will solidify the people's love and support for you. My dear daughter, will you accept the challenge and prove your worthiness as my successor?"

"I will."

She had known that she couldn't refuse him. Obedience to her emperor in spite of her personal feelings. It was a lesson she had learned too well. Though her pulse soared at the thought of unknown dangers, she had no other choice. Perhaps a look at those diagrams would be beneficial…

"Excellent." He clapped his hands together once. Then he dismissed the minister. Melia stood and took a step to follow, but her father stopped her. "I am not finished speaking with you."

"Forgive me," she said, returning to her original place. This time, she remained standing. "What more did you wish to discuss?"

Sorean's eyes were distant, as if he was looking through her rather than at her. With a heaving sigh, he rose from his throne. "Some time ago, I dreamt of the future." He paced the length of the dais. "I saw you, consumed by such terrible sorrow. It broke my heart. And so, I have decided you will take on your first consort."

Dread pooled in her stomach as she stood in stunned silence. She could not quite comprehend what her father had said. But she found herself nodding regardless.

"We have been gifted a rare opportunity. Three Homs men stumbling upon our city…" He trailed off, thoughtful. The rest of his selection process occurred solely within his mind. "You will marry Dunban. I have heard awe-inspiring rumors about his strength and courage. Hero of the Homs. The mightiest man on Bionis." He chuckled in spite of himself. "Yes, he shall make a fine husband for you. Do you not agree?"

"I agree…"

"Wonderful," he said, ending his restless pacing. He beamed at his daughter and strode down the ramp to stand beside her. Gentle, he clasped a hand over her shoulder. "I will start the preparations immediately. Should all go without complication, we will have you wed before the week draws to its close. You must be excited beyond belief, dear one."

"Yes. Of course." Her words were clipped. She was more nauseous than excited…