"History lesson?" Craig asked.

"Essentially," Kyle gave a half-smile as he walked into the room and sat in a chair a few meters from the siblings, "You'll listen, right?"

"I don't know."

Tricia gave him a look of disapproval. "One minute you complain about us not telling you anything, then when offered you say you don't know. Make up your mind."

"Fine," he sat back down on the sofa. She did have a point.

"That's good," Kyle said, "I know you… well, I know you don't really care for either Kupa or the High Elf Kingdom and, to be fair, both have been historically pretty terrible. I'm not here to sugar coat that. What my ancestors did-including my own mom-were terrible."

"And you're the follow up. What makes you different?" Craig asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, from a young age I was told about La Resistance."

"You say that like it's supposed to mean fuckall anything to me."

"Rebellion, insurrection, underground, whatever the hell you wanna call it," Stan said as he fully entered the room from the doorway, rolling his eyes.

"Rebellion? Against…?"

"I guess you can say the current state of Zaron," Kyle said, "Though really, a bunch of things. The way the High Elf Kingdom was, the way Kupa is. We were of course…" He paused for a moment. "Also heavily against the Dark Kingdom. Though we didn't have anything to do with its fall."

"Huh."

"Basically, we're against a bunch of stuff. But being honest, nowadays we're mainly against that piece of shit that you call a Wizard," Stan added.

"Right," Kyle grinned slightly at the blunt way Stan phrased it, "Most of our focus nowadays is on him. As bad as my mom could be, he was… well, he's always been the worst of the worst. His greed, his cruelty. But I'm sure you already know that."

"Right. He set up innocent villages. Kids," Craig echoed what his sister told him days ago.

"He also tried to have me killed," Stan crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "It's a good thing the people of Kupa are so goddamn dumb and naive. What sort of a stupid shit story was that anyway? Why would the elves care that some Kupa family with small kids were gonna have a chat with Barbarians or whatever?"

Craig looked at him. "So that wasn't how it went down?"

"My dad was part of La Resistance," Stan said looking down, fiddling with his fingers, "Luckily for me, I guess, he was in contact with some compromised elves in the army. La Resistance elves that were tipped off that Kupa was sending an armed militia through the Lost Forest to wage some war. When they realized it was all fake information to set my family up, they were able to cooperate to make it just look like an attack."

"Seriously?" Craig asked in disbelief, "Does your mom know?"

"She doesn't," Stan shook his head, "She can't. Only my dad was part of them. Hell, I didn't even know, though I guess I was still too little to have understood anyway. I mean, at the time, I sure as hell thought the attack was real."

"But why go through staging it? Why'd the elves take you away at all? I mean that just seems overly complicated. Couldn't they have just-"

"Cartman did it to have me killed," Stan straightened up, his cold blue eyes like daggers piercing Craig, "Me. He didn't care if it killed my entire family. He wanted the elves blamed, but if they didn't do it, sooner or later he would have found some other way until I was dead. It was to protect me."

"So your dad helped set this gig up to save you?" Craig asked.

"You could say that, I guess."

"So what you're saying is, your dad did all that shit to save you and you still give no fucks about him?"

"I mean-"

"You really are a heartless and ungrateful dick."

Tricia glared at him. "Craig, don't-"

"No, it's whatever," Stan told her, raising a hand, "After that happened, it was mutually decided that my dad maintaining any contact with La Resistance was too risky. So when you met him, even if he did know exactly who you were, there was nothing he could have really done about it, getting us directly involved at least. But anyway, I was told from the beginning that I was never going to be able to see my family again. That was part of the deal. Better off just accepting it and moving on."

"And I'm sure you know that he'd rant on about how Stan lived," Kyle explained, "Because if he was part of some conspiracy to save his son, why would he blurt it out and give it away?"

"That's dumb," Craig said, "But why'd the Wizard want you killed, anyway?"

Stan opened his mouth to respond, but Kyle raised up his hand to stop him.

"Not yet," he ordered.

"The fuck you mean 'not yet'?" Craig scowled.

"Since I became King, the High Elf Kingdom has essentially merged with La Resistance. So it's technically not so much of a fringe underground resistance any more, but we were still a secret society and a lot of how we do things around here are still based on that. Particularly with how we deal with information."

"Right. Because you don't fully trust me," Craig clarified.

"Yes," said Stan.

"No," said Tricia.

Craig ran his fingers through his hair. "This is…"

"A lot, yes," Kyle nodded, "I know. But we've been waiting for you to join us, Craig."

"Waiting? You seem to be making the quite bold assumption that I'll say yes-which I haven't."

"Well," Kyle stood up with a sigh, heading back towards the grand hallway, "You better make up your mind quick."

"And why's that?" Craig asked.

"I actually was going to tell you in the courtyard before you ran off."

"I'm not going to be your magical lapdog."

"Not that," Kyle scowled, "The Wizard. He knows you're here."

"Okay, and?" Craig rolled his eyes.

"As we clarified with you before, you haven't contacted him," Kyle responded.

"Yeah apparently he's super pissed off about that," Stan added, "Thinks you've gone full elf traitor already."

"Right," Kyle said, "We have reliable intel that he's through with using you and your plan. He wants The Stick back at all costs, and he's tired of all these… what he calls theatrics."

Craig blinked, thinking about this for a few moments in silence.

"So you're saying I'm fucked then?" he finally said.

Kyle looked directly onto Craig with a serious expression. "I'm saying he's coming here."

"Came for peace, but now a war is likely starting," Tweek sighed as he brought two cups that late afternoon to the tea room in their quarters, placing one in front of where Craig sat. He hadn't even realized that Tweek knew he had been idly sitting in there.

"I'm sorry. I should have never gotten you involved in this," Craig sighed as he picked up his warm tea cup. It was golden, probably made of real gold, with blue and white intricate designs upon it. It felt unnecessary. Drinks tasted the same even served in a cheap tin cup, didn't they?

"I'm the one who insisted on coming-It's just that it's ironic, is all," Tweek shrugged as he sat down in the chair beside him, "Besides, we Barbarians are known as being a warrior race, right?"

"Maybe a warrior race, but you never struck me as a true warrior," Craig noted, sipping the tea. It was fruity, but he didn't recognize the flavor.

"I don't?" Tweek asked, sounding mildly hurt by his comment.

"I don't-I don't mean it as an insult," Craig quickly insisted, putting his tea down, "I mean, you don't...You can totally hold your own. Remember, you kicked my ass the first time we met. I mean, to be fair I was ambushed, but even so. But I'm also pretty sure that if you weren't trying to keep the peace you could have kicked that Marsh kid's ass, too." Tweek chuckled. "But that's the thing," Craig continued, "You didn't. You went for the peaceful method. You are perfectly capable of fighting, but you seem to only use it for defense. Or when you think it's the only option."

"I guess," Tweek gave a long sigh, running his finger across the rim of his cup.

"That's a good thing," Craig insisted.

"I guess," he said a second time. He took a sip of his tea and sat it back down. "But...as I said I would, I have been thinking about… everything."

"And?"

"I've been thinking about how I can't blame you for your actions. You've… been through a lot. I can't understand, but I have to accept that I can't understand. Because in the end, like I said on the mountain… I trust you."

"Thanks, I guess," Craig said into his tea. His words didn't make him feel better at all.

"How are you doing, anyway?"

"Like shit, honestly," he sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and rubbing his temple.

"About Clyde, right?" Tweek said in a soft voice.

Craig looked up slightly towards him, then back down at his overly fancy cup. "I don't know what to do," he confessed after a few moments.

"I'm sure Clyde is fine," Tweek put a hand gently on his shoulder, "I doubt the Wizard did anything further to him. He's already banished, I don't think he'd… you know."

Tweek was probably right, Craig thought. He doubted that the Wizard even remembered Clyde. Physically, he was probably just fine, albeit tired of waiting. But it was more than that. Way more than that. In ways he still couldn't tell Tweek.

"I just...care about him a lot, you know," Craig decided to say, "I did all of this for him, so…"

"I'm sure when this is all over Kyle can bring him back."

Craig couldn't help but laugh. He could only imagine the look on Clyde's face if he actually joined the High Elf Kingdom. If Clyde was saved from banishment not by Craig himself, but from the High Elf King. That Craig didn't-couldn't retrieve The Stick for him. The realization he couldn't help him restore the Dark Kingdom.

"What's so funny?" Tweek asked, "Kyle will definitely do it."

"It's not that, it's…" he couldn't think of words to say.

"It's?" Tweek tilted his head to the side.

"Never mind."

"Alright," Tweek let it go. He took another sip of his tea.

"You know what… Let's go on a date," Craig said abruptly, sitting up straight.

"What?" Tweek asked incredulously, "In the middle of all this?"

"Why not? No better time," Craig said.

"Aren't we supposed to be helping? I have things I'm supposed to do and-"

"Me, too. But after that," he clarified, reaching for Tweek's hand, "At sunset."

Tweek was thrown off by the grasping of his hand, but he didn't pull away. "I have plans this evening," he finally said.

"Tomorrow then. Still at sunset."

"Alright," he squeezed his hand back, "Tomorrow at sunset."

Craig sat still in his chair a long while after Tweek had left. His mind was surprisingly empty, focusing all his attention on the warm autumn afternoon light hitting his face through the window. It was probably still quite early, but the later in the year, the shorter the days.

When the sun itself became visible within the window, he knew he had to move along. Letting out a deep breath, he stood up and opened the window, letting the cool breeze in. The sudden gust nearly blew off his hat, though he was able to grab it in time.

He turned back around again. He took the communicator that seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket and gripped it in his fist. He paused a few more moments before placing it on the table.

Like before, he dropped to one knee. He could hear the device flicker, but he kept his head down.

"You really know how to keep me waiting."

"I know," Craig said, still looking down, "Longer than I meant to. I'm sorry."

"Holy shit, a bow and an apology," Clyde laughed, "How'd you fuck up this time?"

"I didn't 'fuck up'," Craig looked up at the projection of his friend with a glare, "I've been working my ass off for you."

"Of course you are," Clyde rolled his eyes, "But you could actually update me along the way."

"That's what I'm doing asshole," Craig stood up.

"Well, where are you?" he asked, "Have you reached the High Elf Kingdom yet? Are you even in elf territory yet?"

Craig paused. He forgot that with how their communicator worked that only he was visible to Clyde at that moment. The elegant room in the castle was invisible to him.

He had fully intended, when he contacted Clyde, to be honest about it. To explain how he had been guided here by Tweek who was in fact a prince in line for the throne. How he had been taken in by the long lost Marsh boy at request of the King. Tricia, how she was alive.

How things were more complicated now. How there was an entire organization, La Resistance. How said organization knew more about Craig and Clyde than was expected, how they knew Craig was supposed to steal The Stick, albeit for Cartman. How they even agreed to help Clyde. He had fully intended to spill all of it to Clyde.

"No," he said, "I'm not there yet."

"No?" Clyde grew irritated, "Holy shit, how fucking long does it take you to travel over some goddamn mountains?"

"No, I'm not in the High Elf Kingdom," he clarified, "But I am in elf territory. I just need to find it. Then it shouldn't take me long to steal The Stick and… and then we'll both be on our way."

"And that Barbarian?"

"Don't worry about him," he sighed, looking down. His chest hurt at the mention of him, but he knew that if he spoke too much about him, Clyde would see right through him.

"Well good," Clyde grinned, "Because the barbarians are very much on my list."

"Right," Craig said, still looking down. He subconsciously fiddled with his necklace.

"Well, see you soon then," Clyde said, "Can't wait for you to be my badass mage to wreak havoc. The elves, Kupa… in just a little while longer they'll all be going down like they've never imagined."

With that, the dull light of the projection flickered. Craig dropped his pendant back to his chest as he went to shut the windows. With the sunset came an even colder breeze that would be best kept outside. When he was done, he went over and picked up the communicator and returned to his bedroom in silence.