You know it's been too long since you last updated a story when there're no docs for it in your manager. D:

Hey, guys! I decided you guys needed an update on what's going on. Here's the gist:

* I'm not dead!

* I'm DEFINITELY not quitting this story! I paused the updates because I've decided to finish most (if not all) of the finale before I continued updating. I'm about halfway there. But don't worry! It's been slow going because I've had a lot of plot crap to deal with. I think I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. (But I thought the same thing in September 2016, sooooo... Hm)

* My potentially-unreasonably-optimistic estimation is that I'll be done enough to start posting by the end of this month. l'm not making promises! But if I don't post a new chapter by May 1st, please be my guest and pester me about my snaillike pace!

* Friendly reminder that I usually keep my chapter progress up to date on my profile page as well.

Now that that's out of the way, here's a quick recap of what heckin' sketchin' spoop is going down...

*Nice-looking-but-heckin'-sketchin' stablehand, Zak, was in prison for kidnapping Vara and others. A mysterious new sketchin' person came to him, offering him freedom if he killed Vara.

* Vara left her room in the middle of the night, unwittingly thwarting the attempt on her life. While outside, her locket from her mother started making a sketchy light and saying sketchy words in her head. Deniel finds her outside (hmmm sketchy?) and brings her inside. More sketchy things happen with the locket, Lord Rector Waren runs into sketchy invisible wall!

* Zak ran away. Mysterious Sketchin' Dude killed him. Spoopy darkness and knives and heck.

* Deniel lies to Garmy about the reason Vara left her room. Garmy notices the heckin' sketchin' story, sends Den away. Vara's angry at Garmy again. Le sigh.

* Meanwhile! Last we saw Peran and Co. they were staying at the home of his estranged friend, Chari Ven'tur, because Akins had a fall from a heckin' tall tree. They also needed shelter from the blizzard.

* MEANWHILE! Kai and Cole are coming home! :D

So much sketch. Heck.

Evidence!

Deniel left the King's study, chin held high, stride long and steady. Exuding confidence, though at this moment considered it a miracle that his knees had not buckled beneath him. He kept his gaze straight ahead to avoid meeting the eyes of the few soldiers and servants that he passed.

Hosts, had he truly just lied to the King? Yes, he was the Princess' guard, and as such he was required to obey her commands.

…Well, she hadn't expressly commanded him to lie to the King, but he knew it was what she'd wanted.

When the hallway was clear, Deniel allowed himself a grimace. His actions tonight had crossed the line. He knew it, and the King knew it. How would the King- who'd always had a grudge against him- retaliate?

How will my family punish me? Deniel felt a surge of dread at the thought. If his mother or- Hosts forbid- his grandfather heard about what he'd done, there would be serious repercussions.

It seemed like such a trivial thing, lying about where Vara had been at the time of Tui's attempted attack. Why had he even done it? To think that this mistake could have such a significant effect on his career, on his life…

I am such an idiot! he berated himself, running a hand through his hair as he strode down the hall. Host-cursed, moon-shaded-

"Looks like you could use some help."

Deniel froze, turning to face the source of the voice.

It was a Guard, leaning against an open doorframe just ahead of him. Tall, light-haired, with a short and sharply-trimmed beard, he smiled and nodded to Deniel, tapping two fingers to his forehead in a casual salute.

"We both want the same thing, I think," the man said.

"What is that?" Deniel asked cautiously. There was something familiar about this Guard that he could not quite put his finger on, though he knew he'd never seen him before at the keep.

"Vara's safety," the man answered, and glanced up and down the hall. They were alone. "Something's up, and it goes a lot deeper than a secession war. Someone's trying really, really hard to kill Vara, and-"

"Princess," Deniel cut the man off. "She is the Princess, soldier. You should treat her with respect."

The man tilted his head at Deniel. His eyes were an unusual, almost unnatural amber color. The look in those eyes sent a shiver down Deniel's spine.

"All right," the man said, and stood off the doorframe, sauntering toward Deniel. "The Princess is in danger. Over the course of just over a week she's been kidnapped, sold into slavery, and probably would have been murdered tonight if not for your intervention." To Deniel's bewilderment, the man bowed to him. "For that, Deniel Waren, I am very grateful." He straightened, striking out his hand. "The name's Kai'el."

Kai'el? Deniel thought hard. The name was definitely familiar. Wasn't he…

Realization struck him broadside. He quickly released Kai'el's hand.

This was the man who, along with Vara, had been distributing the plague medicine in the North over a month ago. The man he'd helped arrest, only for him to escape with Vara that same night.

It was still so hard for Deniel to comprehend that he'd arrested- and almost killed, due to his squad's negligence- the King's daughter. If he'd known at the time… But, then, nobody had known. Not even Vara herself.

"It's you!" he hissed softly. "Borg's Nindroid spy."

"Shh!" Kai'el glanced down the hall again. "Listen. I'm putting a lot of trust in you, here. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't betray that."

"Betray-" Deniel scoffed. "I should report you! How in Mena's name did you even get in here? You can't make it past the gate without an identification tag-"

"Which I have, thank you very much," said Kai'el, pulling his silver tag- attached to a chain around his neck- out from under his uniform.

Deniel snatched the tag from Kai'el's hand.

Guard identification tags were stamped on one side with the Guard's name and serial number, and on the other side with Mena's Tree. The design and lettering of both were elaborate to, in theory, prevent counterfeits.

"Wait," Deniel said, squinting. "Your name-"

"It's a strange spelling, I know," Kyle said impatiently. He moved backwards slightly, indicating that Deniel was pulling too hard on his tag. Deniel did not ease up. "I'm from the North."

That could explain it: the North was infamous for its deviation from normal Ninjagian culture. Because of this, their names were often strange- especially in the secluded villages in the far North.

"You're from Borg," Deniel said again, quietly. "Does Vara know you're here?" A thought occurred to him. "Is she a spy, too?"

"No!" Kyle shook his head, then hesitated. "Well, she saw me once, in the dungeon during Tui's trial. But I don't know if she recognized me. If she did, I promise she has no idea why I'm here. And she's not a spy."

Deniel nodded skeptically.

"Listen," Kyle said, continuing to pull lightly on his chain, but Deniel kept a firm grip, trying to find some flaw in the ID. Something to indicate that it was a fake. "I don't have much time. We don't know who wants to hurt Vara, or when they'll strike next. But it seems to me that the best time for the bastard to try again is when most of the King's Guards are in the South, instead of defending the keep."

Finding no visible flaw in the tag, Deniel reluctantly let it go. It was an excellent forgery.

"Why me?" he asked. "Why do you want my help?"

"Because you're one of the Princess' personal guards," Kyle said. "You've been with her every day since her arrival. She trusts you. And you were with her during the attempt on her life tonight." His expression was earnest. "I know that you probably don't have much information, but you're the best that I've got. Please."

Deniel nearly drew his sword. He nearly took out his cuffs to arrest Kyle and march him to the High General, or, better yet, to the King himself. The capture of a spy from Borg might prompt them to pardon him for his deception this morning…

But what good would that accomplish? Kyle was right: despite Zakari Tui's death, Vara was still in danger. They needed to find out who was behind these attempts on the Princess' life and put an end to them before they ended her and, by extension, the dynasty of Blessed rulers.

"You know that if Vara dies, I'm next in line for the throne," Deniel said.

"Yes?" Kyle raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And…" Deniel gestured vaguely with his hands. "And…well, I still don't understand why you'd come to me, of all people, for help. Considering my status, wouldn't I be the first suspect on your list?" He paused. Crossed his arms and shrugged, feeling immensely uncomfortable under this spy's gaze. "I mean, I have no ill will against the Princess. But how do you know that?"

"The same way that I know you're not going to turn me in," Kyle responded firmly. "I just know. Okay? Now…" He turned his head sharply. Deniel followed his gaze and saw, far down the hall, Vara rushing from the King's study. She shouted in a distressed and accented voice for the Guards to shut the door. The two Guards standing at the study doors obeyed after only a moment of hesitation.

What in Mena's name…

"Den!" Vara cried. Against his better judgement Deniel immediately rushed back down the hall.

Kyle firmly caught Deniel's arm and pulled him into a spare bedroom.

"Hey-" Deniel objected, unable to pull himself from the spy's grip.

"Shh!" Kyle shut the door, leaving them in darkness.

"Don't you tell me to be quiet, spy!" Deniel snapped. "I'm her Guard! I'm supposed to answer when she-"

"You are not her Guard," Kyle said, his voice low and eerily calm, though his eyes seemed as angry, faintly glowing embers in the dim predawn light peeking through a window on the far side of the large, shadowed room. "Not anymore."

Deniel froze, the question in his eyes.

"I'm not a fool, Deniel Waren," Kyle said, and released Deniel's arm to light a lantern on the wall beside them, using a match from his pocket. "After what you did tonight, you'll be lucky if the King doesn't have you cashiered. Or worse. You are not on the Princess' retinue anymore." He took a deep breath. "But, if you help me, maybe there's a chance that you can regain your honor."

In the hall, Vara shouted Deniel's name again. She sounded more distraught than before. Deniel's chest tightened; he looked from the door to Kyle, torn.

"Listen to me," Kyle said firmly. "I know it's hard. But right now, the best thing you can do to help her is to keep your distance. If you go out there and talk to her, try to comfort her, the King will only get more angry."

"DEN!" Vara's voice was raw.

"She's in trouble," Deniel gritted, and shoved Kyle aside. He pulled up the door latch.

"You need to listen to me!" Kyle grabbed his arm again- Hosts, the Nindroid was strong!- and wrenched him away from the door. "The only dangers she's facing right now are in her own mind. If we stand here arguing all morning, though, I can guarantee that will change." He firmly locked his gaze on Deniel's and lowered his voice. "I understand. Believe me, I do. But this is what needs to happen if we're gonna keep her safe. Do you understand?"

Deniel heard Vara's distraught cries again. He looked to the door; a hard knot formed in his throat as he recalled when he'd first met Vara.

How is your Nindroid friend? he had asked. He would never forget how her eyes had darkened upon hearing that question.

He's gone, she'd responded, sounding both angry and saddened. Betrayed.

"Vara trusted you," Deniel said. "And now she thinks you're gone. What did you do to her? Why do you hide?"

"I am protecting her!" A distressed, anguished expression unexpectedly twisted Kyle's face. "I let her see me, once. And I let her see my bird several times. But I can't talk to her yet, as much as I want to. It's not safe."

"Why?" Deniel growled. "Why isn't it safe?" He pointed to the door. "She is alone, and afraid! Can't you hear it? Why did you abandon her?"

Kyle raised his hand, and Deniel stepped back, expecting the spy to strike him.

Instead, Kyle pulled off his gloves, casting them onto the table beside the lantern. He yanked up his sleeves.

From the wrist up, the Nindroid's forearms were black and blistered; tarnished metal glinted where the skin had completely melted away. The damage was gruesome, extensive: Deniel guessed that it covered most, if not all, of his body. How were his hands and face so perfectly unscathed?

Fire. Deniel clenched his gloved hand.

His own burn wound was nothing compared to this.

"Ask me how Vara survived the slave trader's fire," Kyle said. There was a false calm in his voice, like a breath of wind in the dead of night. "Go on. Ask me."

"Kyle," Deniel began, "I-"

"Ask me about how your High General took Vara's unconscious body from me and left me behind to die. Ask me about how, when Borg's people finally found me and brought me back for repairs, I refused to let him finish fixing me." He clenched his fist and shook it in Deniel's face. " 'My hands, and my head. That's it, sir. There's no time. I need to get back out there. She needs to be protected.' "

Deniel tried to speak, but words seemed inappropriate in the face of this. He looked down, ashamed. Outside, Vara had stopped calling for him. Perhaps she had been brought into her room by her servant.

Or perhaps, Deniel's hypervigilant bodyguard instincts hissed, she's been kidnapped and dragged off by another one of Borg's men.

Was that why Kyle had pulled Deniel into another room? To distract him with lies while Borg's people took her away? Deniel wanted to shove Kyle aside and chase after Vara. He had to know for certain that she was okay.

But, looking again at Kyle's burned skin, Deniel restrained himself. He felt that Kyle was telling the truth.

Why do you care so much about her? Deniel demanded of himself, frustrated. Yes, he was a Guard, and this was a matter of honor: he had an obligation to follow his oaths, and to protect the King's daughter.

Yeah, right, another part of him snorted. We both know that's not the only reason why you're doing this. You're so selfish!

Deniel smothered that voice and took a deep breath. "Where do we start?"

It was a solemn group that Peran led away from Chari Ven'tur's house at first light. Even the twins were quiet, riding at the back of the small procession. Backs bowed under their cloaks, they looked more like children than soldiers as they made their slow journey toward the Middle's capital.

Akins, thankfully, was recovering quickly from his fall a week prior. But he was still a little stiff and sore: it was only because he had begged to continue with them on the mission that Peran reluctantly agreed not to leave him with Chari's family.

"General," said Kolin tentatively, trotting his horse up beside Peran's. "If I may…"

"Yes, Kolin?" Peran paused at the sound of his own voice: pensive and quiet, it lacked its usual energy. As listless as the gray clouds that rolled across the overcast sky.

"You'll have to forgive me for asking," Kolin said. "But…none of us know what your plan is. What are we doing out here?"

"We're rescuing Vara."

"Yes, but what about the message you received from that person, Kyle?"

Peran had made the mistake of telling the others about the raven. With so little information, they all had mixed feelings about the mysterious message he'd received in the dead of night. "What about it?" he asked impatiently.

"Well…again, you'll have to forgive me. But I have to wonder about this message. Something about it strikes me as odd."

"How so?"

Kolin seemed surprised by this question. Perhaps he'd expected the General to immediately dismiss his concerns? This lack of trust cut Peran deeper than he would have thought.

"Um…well, first of all, General, we don't know who this Kyle is. What if he captured Vara and has her hidden away somewhere, and sent the message to throw you off the trail? Or what if he's one of the King's cronies, intending to lure you into a trap at the King's Keep?"

These were both possibilities that Peran had already considered. In all honesty, it would not surprise the High General if the King was goading him into a trap. Telling him to quit? And now, of all times? The King would surely have known that such a message would only strengthen his resolve to press forward.

The King is well aware of my personal ties to that girl, Peran thought bitterly. Ohhh, that bastard is aware. If he is the one who sent that message, then he's a bigger fool than I ever imagined.

"You remember how the letter was signed, Kolin?" Peran asked.

"…Yes," Kolin reluctantly admitted. "But I don't think we should disregard-"

" 'May He guide your Way,' " Peran quoted. "Li and Akins say that this is a phrase used among those who believe in the Retired God." He said that god's name derisively, ignoring Kolin's raised eyebrow. "I suspect the raven belongs to Josi, who is a member of this forbidden sect."

"So you think Kyle is a friend of hers," Kolin guessed.

"Yes. And judging by the way the message was phrased, Kyle may be a spy inside the King's Keep."

"Okay," Kolin said thoughtfully. "I don't believe we have sufficient evidence to say anything about this situation with certainty, but that is a possibility. However…"

"Hmm?"

Kolin hesitated. "Well… If this is the case, and Vara is being protected by a spy of the Way inside the King's Keep, then why are we still trying to rescue her? We're needed in the South."

"I do not stand with the South," Peran snapped. "Lord Zane is a boar-headed fool, and I refuse to sully my reputation any further by continuing to serve him."

"So you support the King, then?" Kolin demanded.

Peran sharply reined in his horse and glared at the soldier. Kolin paused, too. He glanced away from the High General nervously.

Saer and the twins stopped a ways back, looking puzzled. They hadn't heard most of Peran and Kolin's exchange.

"There are many mistakes that a man can make on his way through life," Peran said lowly, so only Kolin could hear him. "One of the greatest of which is this: that you assume there are only two paths laid before you." He gestured to the road ahead. "I do not think the King is right. But I do not think the South is right, either. I stand with neither."

Kolin considered this for a minute. Behind them, Akins' horse nickered and shook its mane, eager to move on.

"So you believe in a third path," Kolin said finally. "The path in which you do nothing to stop the destruction, in which you ignore the pleas of those who trusted you, and follow your own desires instead of doing the honorable thing and answering their call."

"How dare you?" Peran hissed. "You think I do the dishonorable thing?"

When Kolin did not answer, Peran turned to the other soldiers, speaking in a louder voice. "Do you think I am a fool to chase after Vara instead of leading Lord Zane's soldiers into battle?"

There was silence. Peran pressed on, his face hot with anger.

"Do you think I am a coward? That I left the South out of fear, or because I desire petty rebellion against authority? Do you think that I'm doing this just to make a statement?"

Still, silence. Kolin looked embarrassed.

"Have any of you stopped to consider why I am doing this?" Peran asked, driving his horse toward Saer, staring the bewildered man directly in the eyes. "Have any of you paused to ask yourselves why. Why is the High General so intent on pursuing this girl? This one, handicapped, timid girl with the strange accent and green eyes." He waited, looking between each of his four subordinates. "Do none of you understand?"

The silence continued. Peran's blood boiled.

"Green eyes!" he shouted, voice echoing through the snowy forest. "Hosts consume the lot of you, she has green eyes! She is Blessed!"

"Well…yes, her eyes are green, but it's impossible for her to be Blessed," Akins dared to speak. "She can't be. Nobody in the Blessed bloodline has red hair."

"That's right," Peran said. "So, why would there be a Blessed girl with red hair now? A girl which no one even knew existed until she arrived from the Dark Island? Think! Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

Were they really so daft as this? Were they so heavily indoctrinated that they wouldn't even consider the possibility? Peran's glare deepened, and he shook his head at them all. "She is an illegitimate child, borne of one of Garmadon's slaves! Vara and her mother were secretly exiled to the West while Lord Keith was still in command."

"That seems like a stretch," Saer asked. "How would you know this?"

"Because I'm the one who gave the slave to Garmadon!" Peran roared.

A longer, more astounded silence. Peran waited, letting the weight of what he'd confessed sink in.

"I don't know why the King wants Vara," Peran said, forcing down his rage. "There's no way of knowing for certain, especially with the King's mind being as fractured as it is."

"You don't think the King would hurt her," Li said, her face pale. "I mean…if you're right, then she is his daughter!"

"If I am right, then Vara is either the safest that she's ever been in her entire life…" Peran made a brusque motion with his hand for them to keep moving. "Or she is in terrible, terrible danger."

Kyle walked across the snowy yard toward the stables with Deniel hesitantly at his side. Despite the early hour- the morning sun was just beginning to peek over the hills- the yard around the stable and barracks was full of life. Thousands of Guards making ready both gear and sword. Surgeons grimly filled wagons with equipment. Messengers perched on horseback, running orders to and from various depots across the Middle and North. Scribes, men and women in black, high-collared and long-tailed uniforms, oversaw the entire process, keeping careful documentation to ensure that the preparations went according to their King and High General's plan.

The High General Derek himself was nowhere to be found. That suited Deniel just fine: the longer he was able to avoid the High General, and his inevitable arrest, the better.

Traditionally, when a Guard committed a crime, he was imprisoned until he could be judged by either his captain or, if it was a serious offense, the Middle's High General. Deniel could hardly wrap his mind around the fact that, at this moment, he should be sitting in a cell under the King's Keep. Why hadn't Garmadon called for his arrest yet?

They reached the stable. The long, narrow building smelled of too many bodies in one place. Here, hundreds of high-ranking Guards equipped their horses. A few appeared lighthearted, conversing with one another as they tightened girths and buckled leather armor. But many others were solemn, working with an air of quiet determination. They realized the significance of this battle they were about to lead their men into. And they didn't like it.

What is a Guard's purpose, if not to obey his King's every command? The thought came to Deniel with overtones of bitterness.

Deniel had decided early on that if he was ordered to march on the South, he would risk execution and desert the army. There was no way that he would follow the orders that these men were preparing to carry out. It grieved him to find several familiar faces in the stable as he walked. He had hoped that more Guards would have come to the same decision he had.

Deniel avoided eye contact with old friends. Do they not realize the gravity of what they're about to do? Dammit! Why is everyone so calm about this?

"What are we doing here?" he asked Kyle, his voice surprisingly quiet compared to the screaming in his mind.

"Zakari Tui stole a horse when he tried to escape," Kyle explained. "It's a safe bet that the person who killed him- and he poor horse- pursued him on horseback. Which means that we could find answers here."

"Didn't the High General already investigate the stable?" Deniel asked.

"Look around you," Kyle said, gesturing as they pushed through the throngs of Guards, horses, and stablehands. "If the High General had the time to thoroughly investigate this mess, Tui's killer would already be behind bars."

Both Deniel and Kyle could not care less about the fact that Tui was dead. In fact, Deniel would be willing to let the matter rest, as the High General had, if not for the fact that Tui's murderer was likely the same man that had hired him to assassinate the Princess.

This was a serious matter, and it worried Deniel that the High General had given up the case so easily. As far as they knew, he hadn't even assigned another Guard to continue the investigation. Yes, he had a war to organize, but wasn't his duty above all else to protect the Blesseds? What if, I'm the midst of all this chaos, the killer tried to strike again?

That was where Kyle and Deniel came in.

Kyle led they way through the stable. Eventually the Nindroid waved down a scribe and questioned her briefly on who had entered the stable early that morning, and if she'd noticed anything strange when she arrived. A missing or recently used horse, perhaps?

The scribe scoffed. Don't you have anything better to do? her look seemed to say, and she stalked off to continue her duties.

"Hmm." Kyle stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"That could've gone better," Deniel remarked.

"Ya think?" Kyle shook his head. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. Come on. I have a hunch…"

They eventually came to the back doors, which were wide open. Just outside was a large, covered cart.

"Aha," Kyle said, smiling triumphantly, and pulled back one corner of the heavy canvas. Deniel peeked in.

It was Tui's stolen horse. The harsh cold had preserved the body well. Deniel was relieved: there were few things more repugnant to him than the body of a deteriorating animal.

But even frozen, the body was grotesque: dark, frozen blood covered the beast's coat, particularly around the head and neck area, where two gaping knife wounds indicated the cause of death. The corpse's eyes had been gouged out by birds.

Why had the horse been killed with Tui? What a waste of a life…

"Look there." Kyle pointed to its hind legs. "There's more blood. Help me." He glanced behind him- everyone in and around the stable were too busy to pay them any heed- and pulled back the canvas entirely before hopping into the cart.

"What are you doing?" Deniel demanded. "The horse is dead!"

"Very observant observation, Waren."

"No, I mean…" Deniel pinched the bridge of his nose between two gloved fingers, sighing. "What incriminating evidence could you hope to find on this poor creature? I'm sure the murderer's name won't be carved in the beast's flank!"

"You never know. It might be."

"If that's actually a possibility, then we're dealing with a very stupid man."

"Naturally," Kyle said. "Anyone who would attempt to kill the Princess would have to be stupid."

"Why is that?"

The Nindroid met Deniel's eyes, that intense fire burning deep inside of him. He smiled, a look that sent a chill down Deniel's spine. "Because only an idiot would dare touch her while I'm around."

Hosts! Deniel swore, looking away. There was an fierceness about this spy that disturbed him almost as much as the horse's dead, eyeless gaze.

"Aha!" Kyle said again, loudly, startling Deniel. "Look here." He pointed to the horse's left hind leg.

"Another knife wound," Deniel said, standing on the spokes of one of the cart's wheels: that was as close to the corpse as he'd get. "So what?"

"So, if our murderer wanted to kill the horse, why would he stab the horse's leg?"

"To lame it," Deniel said. "If the murderer pursued Tui on horseback, then he'd need a way to stop the horse so that he could get at Tui."

"So, you think our mystery man threw a knife into the horse's leg while it was galloping," Kyle said.

Deniel hesitated. "That would take a lot of skill."

"Exactly." Kyle hopped down from the cart and threw the canvas back over the corpse. "Tui failed to kill the Princess, and he fled. So he knew what was coming when he saw his employer pursuing him. Tui was running for his life.

"And, somehow, our mystery man was able to not only keep up, but also throw a knife into this horse's leg to lame it before killing Tui. Why not just throw a knife straight into Tui's back? That would be much easier, don't you think?"

Deniel nodded slowly, unsure where Kyle was going with this.

"Laming this horse was either an act of sheer luck," Kyle explained, "or a blatant display of his skill. Let's assume for a moment that it wasn't luck. How many people do you know who have this sort of mad skill with a throwing knife?"

Deniel hopped down from the cart wheel, thoughtful. "No one," he said. "Throwing knives is a required skill for Guards, but few of us learn more than the basics. I can't think of anyone who's mastered the craft well enough to hit a horse's leg at a full gallop." He hesitated. "Well, except… No."

"What?" Kyle prompted him.

"There's the Middle's Lord Rector," Deniel said reluctantly. "My grandfather. I remember when I was young he taught me how to throw. He's pretty good. Or, at least, he was ten winters ago."

"How good?"

"He once hit a diving gull out of the air from across the Leirin River. When we retrieved it, I'm pretty sure the blade was straight through its eye."

Kyle swore.

"Hold on," Deniel said. "It's not him, Kyle."

"How do you know that?"

"Hosts, Kyle! How could I not? He's the Middle's Lord Rector! The Priests have a sacred oath to protect the Blessed bloodline, and to honor the reigning King! The only way he would be able to kill the Princess is if Garmadon ordered it. And I don't know about you, but it seems highly unlikely that the King would order the death of his own daughter."

"But Vara isn't fully of the Blessed bloodline," Kyle said. "She's illegitimate. That gives the Priest's conscience some wiggle room."

"She has the blood of God running through her veins!"

"And, if the rumors are to be believed, then she also she has the blood of a slave. Be honest with me, Deniel Waren. Would your religion's strict policy on keeping a pure bloodline allow her to take the throne?"

Deniel paused. It was an excellent question. "It's…better than letting the Blessed line die out entirely. Without the Prince…"

"Without the Prince, you will take the throne!" Kyle slapped his own forehead. "Oh! It's so clear now! How did I not see it before?"

"No." Deniel spread his hands in a calming gesture. "You need to slow down. My grandfather's far from perfect, but I promise you, he did not send Tui to assassinate the Princess. He didn't murder Tui. And I'm definitely not part of some plot to get myself on the throne."

"What?" Kyle lowered his arms. "Oh, no, I don't think you're involved in this. Your grandfather, however…"

"He is not-"

"He is arguably the most influential man in the entire nation," Kyle cut him off. "But, as is true for so many men in positions of power, he has grown hungry for more. And so, what's the next logical step?" He tapped Deniel's chest. "Put his grandson on the throne, of course! You have no training for such a position. Which makes you the perfect puppet. If you take the throne, then the Lord Rector can use you as a political bridge to put the Priests in power." He snapped his fingers. "The final blow to the barrier between church and state."

"No," Deniel said firmly. "That is not what's happening. And besides, I've already made it clear to my grandfather that I don't want to be King. If I was offered the throne, I wouldn't take it."

"And what if you had the chance to stop this war?" Kyle's eyes widened. "Ah! Deniel, that's what this is about! He's backed you into a corner, and now he…" He faded, then started mumbling to himself, running his hands over his tied-back hair.

"Listen," Deniel sighed, watching the Nindroid pace on the snowy path. "Thank you for…letting me help you search for this killer. But this isn't working. We're getting extremely off course, and I need to go find some legitimate evidence."

"Evidence!" Kyle grinned. "Yes. We need evidence. Come on."

"Evi…evidence?" Deniel stammered, turning as Kyle started jogging back into the stable. "Hold on! Where are you going?"

"Evidence!" was all Deniel heard before Kyle was lost to the crowd of horses and men.

Deniel hesitated but a moment before cursing and, against his better judgement, jogging after the spy.

Hmmmmm such sketch. much spoop. very heck.

Aren't you so glad that I've (halfway) returned? XD

I'm sorry that it's so lengthy. The A/Ns and the chapter. And it's a talking chapter, too, which is slightly uncool for me to dump on you when it's been so long and you probably don't remember anything, despite my super-helpful-and-thorough summary at the top.

I've started looking into my characters' personalities, based on the 16-Personalities quiz. It's been fascinating so far. And I'm also noticing a startling correlation between many of my characters' personalities and my own... Hm. I think I'll post those in the next chapter, because I'm not done with them yet. In the meantime, does anyone have a guess for one or two of my babs?

Happy Easter, all! Sincere and heartfelt thanks to everyone who has been patient enough to follow this story even when updates became so sporadic and scant. I'm so close to done, though. I'm sure I can get this done in a month now that my characters seem about six percent more willing to cooperate with me than they were at the beginning of the year.

Feedback is appreciated! Reviews are not the reason I write, but we can probably all agree that kind feedback (and constructive criticism!) can go a long way in encouraging someone. Especially an exhausted writer. XD Thank you all in advance! Have a fantastic day~