Ayyyyyyyyy

Sigh

I'm sorry, guys. You're gonna have to bear with me. I guess it's okay to tell you I've been struggling with my mental health and a lot of things came to a head this wonderful cold and relatively sunless Autumn season. But Sunday was a good day, so I finally managed to fix tha paragraph in the final scene that had me hung up for about four weeks, and today has also been a good day, so I here I am. Thank you all for your patience.

Trigger warning this chapter: self-harm and suicide. I've been bad with trigger warnings in the past, which I sincerely apologize for.

Thank you all for your reviews, Guests and members!

The Library

When a Priest barged into Elder Javan's room without knocking, he knew exactly what had happened.

The Southern soldiers had found them.

"What are you waiting for?" Javan asked before the Priest had a chance to speak. He peeked through the thick curtains overlooking the busy street. Dozens of soldiers, metal glinting on weapons and coat buttons as they closed in on the building. A strange calm washed over Javan. "Let them in."

"…Sir?" the Priest asked breathlessly.

"No sense fighting them," Javan said. "I'm tired, Neil. Tell the others to surrender."

The Priest did not move.

"It's unfortunate, I know," Javan continued. "But you see how many men are out there. We can't win. Besides, there are civilians in this building."

"This is a whorehouse," Neil spat.

"Their lives are worth just as much as yours."

Neil looked down, suitably embarrassed.

"Hurry now, man!" Javan said. "Tell the others to surrender before the fighting starts."

The Priest ran to follow his orders.

Javan turned from the window, heaving a sigh.

So this is Your will, he prayed. You march not with the Blesseds, but with the South.

He opened his door and heard shouting downstairs. A cacophony of soldiers and Priests, intermixed with alarmed and indignant cries of women. How many Priests would obey his order to stand down?

Oh, Mena, forgive me. He took the key to Lord Kai's room from his pocket so he could give it to the soldiers when they mounted the stairs. Forgive us all for being so caught up in manmade tradition that we forgot what You really wanted from us.

Forgive me for not standing against this unholy war.

With cloak and coattails fluttering behind him, Peran took the dungeon stairs two at a time. At the entrance to the ground floor of the King's Keep he threw the door open, startling the young Guard standing inside.

Only after drawing his sword did the Guard realize who he was dealing with.

"H-High General," he stammered.

"Get out of my way, soldier," Peran commanded the men. "This doesn't concern you."

Recovering quickly, the Guard sheathed his sword and saluted. "I'm sorry, sir, but we have strict orders not to let anyone…into the Keep without the proper papers." It was as much a question as a statement: this Guard had no idea how Peran had accessed this door.

"My business is with the King, and it cannot wait," Peran said. "But please, go tell whomever you report to that I have arrived."

The Guard looked ready to argue again, but thought better of it.

"...Yes, sir," he said, and stepped to the side. Peran pushed past him and into the hall without looking back.

Kaeli, my greatest mistake.

Peran clenched his fist.

Makeri, my greatest blessing.

Akins, the boy I should have protected.

Dammit, I am a Mena-cursed fool.

The rented carriage charged headlong up the icy road to Sheshin Keep. Cold, exhausted, and in tremendous pain, Kai leaned against the padded back of his seat, one arm around his aching ribs. Moons, but breathing hurt; he feared he might faint from all the jostling, but didn't tell his escort of dozens upon dozens Southern soldiers outside to slow down. Time was a luxury he could not afford, with the Middle-North soldiers mere hours, at best, from the Southern border.

"You should lay down," said the military doctor in the carriage with him. Although Kai knew her face, he could not dredge up her name.

"I'm fine."

"If you say so, my lord." But her eyes narrowed. "The medicine?"

"It's kicking in," Kai answered. He rubbed his face with cold, shaky hands. "It wasn't sleep-inducing, right?"

The doctor hesitated. Kai sighed.

"I'm sorry, my lord," the doctor said. "I…didn't consider…"

"It's not your fault," Kai said. "Of course, any other patient in my condition would require something extra to help them rest. It didn't cross my mind, either."

"You're not an exception."

"We are on the cusp of war, and I shouldn't sleep through it. It's not your fault!" he said again when she grimaced. "I'll grab a cup of tea when we get home."

"That might not cut it." She looked him up and down. "Deep breaths, my lord, or you might get pneumonia."

"Yeah." He closed his eyes, wincing as he forced himself to breathe a little deeper. "It's easy to tell these things to patients. But once the doctor's the one on the sickbed…"

The doctor nodded sympathetically.

The remainder of the ride passed in silence. Now that Kai knew what to look for, he felt his eyelids getting heavy as the pain faded to a faint throbbing. He continued focussing on his breathing. In, and out. He yawned. Cupped his face in his cold hands, trying desperately to stay awake. At least until he got home, he had to stay awake.

Home. Even the thought brought a spark of excitement to his heart. He was about to see his mother again. It must have been awful for her, not knowing whether her last living family was alive, dead, or mortally injured. And this while she had to manage the house, the country, their defense against the war itself, all on her own while pregnant and grieving. How tired she must be. How tired…

The carriage stopped. Kai breathed sharply and opened his eyes- when had he shut them?- and reluctantly pushed off his blanket. He shivered.

"Just stay put," the doctor said. "We'll grab a stretcher for you."

"No," Kai said, and reached out his hand. "They need to see me on my feet, at least until I get inside. Help me."

Reluctantly, the doctor slung his arm over her shoulder and wrapped her other arm gently around his middle as he struggled to his feet. "You good?" she asked.

"Yeah."

Surrounded by Southern soldiers, they made their way up the steps to the front doors, which opened as they came close. Kai lost his footing on a patch of ice on the last step. It seemed like every soldier leapt to catch him, but the doctor tightened her grip and kept him on his feet. Having no breath for thanks, he just squeezed her hand, and they went inside. The doors were barely shut before he found himself wrapped in his mother's arms.

"Kai!" She held him too tight, and also not tight enough. His legs gave, throwing her off balance. They sank to their knees; still she held him, so closely, so warmly. He could do nothing but lean into her, arms lax at his sides, head on her shoulder. Her hair, long, loose ringlets, brushing his face. Oh, but her smell! The smell of his childhood, of comfort, of home.

Eventually he realized that she was speaking, and he opened his eyes- moons, he'd closed them again- and found his face cupped between her hands as she examined him.

"I'm fine," he said, and shook her hands off so he could lean on her again. He only caught some of what she'd said but it wasn't hard to guess her meaning. "I'm fine," he murmured into her hair. "I'm fine." He vaguely heard the doctor's voice, telling them not to worry, explaining the effects of the medication she'd given him-

He couldn't fall asleep in front of all these people. He tried to get up, but couldn't seem to find his legs.

"So he'll be all right?" Cole's voice. Kai found him standing nearby, cane in one hand. His other was wrapped in a white bandage.

"Hey," Kai said, lifting a hand, gesturing for Cole to come closer. "You okay?"

"Am I-" Cole scoffed. He came forward, and dropped stiffly to his knees. His cane clattered on the wood floor as he took Kai's hand. There were tears in his eyes. "Hosts, Kai!"

Kai pulled Cole closer, intending to embrace him, but ended up just laying his forehead on Cole's chest. He willed himself to keep his eyes open. "I need tea," he said. "Can someone get me a cup? Or a whole pot?"

"You're going to bed," Driniah said.

"I need to help."

"I've got it," Driniah said firmly. "I promise. You just sleep."

That…actually sounded like a good plan.

He closed his eyes.

When Varasach entered the library, she saw Lou already seated in a plush chair beside the fire, a book in one hand, a steaming porcelain cup in the other. He smiled as Varasach entered.

Varasach couldn't help but smile back. It was strange how, the more time she spent with him, the less like Overlord he appeared. His was face softer, his movements…confident, but slow and cautious, and his words and tone gentler.

He reminded her of Cole.

"Please, sit," Lou said, gesturing to a chair across from him. He closed his book and set it beside his breakfast tray on the low table between them. He motioned to the second tray. "That's yours."

"Thank you." Varasach smoothed her skirts and sat, hungrily eyeing her meal: a bowl of boiled grains, topped with seared meat and fresh fruit. To the side were two smaller dishes filled to the brim with sauces. She tasted both with her fingers: one thin and sweet, the other thick and spicy. She poured the sweet one over her bowl, and as she waited for it to soak in she tentatively sniffed her cup, filled to the brim with creamy, dark liquid.

"Chocolate and coffee," Lou said. "Your servant told me it was your favorite."

"Yes. Thank you." Varasach sipped the sweet drink carefully. It was just the right temperature.

"Have you made any progress with your Gem?" Lou asked.

Varasach felt Grayrose thrum warningly in her mind. She couldn't understand why the Gem wanted to remain hidden even from Lou. She treaded carefully, wishing to both respect the Gem's wishes and tell Lou no lies.

"It's bonded to me," she said softly in the Dark Tongue. "But it doesn't like to speak. I think it will help me if I get into trouble in the future."

"Has it explained its abilities to you?"

"It says they are not trustworthy," Varasach said. "Please, Lou. Use this language."

Lou switched with a brief, piercing glance in the direction of Varasach's Guards standing at parade rest by the library door. "So, it is able to judge character, as well as provide a shield and invisibility?"

It occurred to Varasach that she hadn't asked Grayrose what its abilities were. The Gem obligingly filled her in.

It is as he guessed. I can provide an invisible, spherical shield around you- which becomes weaker the farther you extend it. I can make you, or a subject of your choice, invisible for a short time. I can also sense when an individual intends to cause you harm.

Varasach nodded to Lou. "Yes," she answered. Then to Grayrose: And what about Lou? Is he trustworthy?

Yes, Grayrose said without hesitation. At least, he has no intention to harm you.

Varasach had already decided to trust Lou, but to hear Grayrose say this took a great burden from her: she would be the first to admit that she wasn't a good judge of character.

And Deniel? she asked. What about him?

The Gem hesitated.

Grayrose? Varasach pressed. Is Deniel trustworthy?

Don't be alarmed, Grayrose said. I didn't have as much time to search him as I did Lou, and I cannot reach him unless he's standing near you, thinking of you. So I cannot say anything conclusive at the present.

Varasach relaxed slightly. What about Garmadon?

Grayrose made that same vehement hissing noise from before. Understandably, the Gem was still bitter about what the King had done to Kaeli.

Personal opinions aside, Varasach said. I know you don't like him- I'm not too fond of him, either- but do you think he would hurt me?

I only saw him once through your eyes, Grayrose admitted. In the hall with the Lord Rector, while you and Deniel were trying to hide. The Gem thrummed. I don't understand… Why were you trying to hide? Neither of them had any clear thoughts of aggression toward you or Deniel.

So the King is trustworthy, Varasach said.

I never said that. All I mean is, in the brief look I got before I ran out of power, he wasn't out to murder, rape, or in any other way harm you. She could feel the Gem bristling as it said this: they both knew these crimes were not strangers to Garmadon's hands.

"I think you're lying to me," Lou said, sipping his tea. "That locket seems quite talkative. What's its name?"

"…Grayrose," Varasach said reluctantly.

"Grayrose." Lou tested the name on his tongue. "Grayrose, my dear. Would you please tell me what order you're in?"

Amulet, the Gem replied begrudgingly, and Varasach translated to spoken word.

"Amulet! That's one I haven't heard before. Are there any others still out there?"

Not that I'm aware of. But it would not surprise me if a few survived through the ages, hidden in some stuffy woman's closet, or a hoarder's basement…

"Grayrose doesn't know," was all Varasach bothered to translate.

"I see. How did Kaeli come to have you in her possession?"

Grayrose rumbled with annoyance. Varasach waited helplessly for it to decide whether it would cooperate.

"Ah, of course," Lou said. "I have no manners. My apologies, Amulet Grayrose. Of course that was too personal." He dipped his head with respect. He switched to the Ninjagian tongue. "And my pardon to you as well, Princess. I realize that I haven't been very courteous today, waking you up so abruptly at first light, immediately forcing you to concentrate on such a task… I never even paused to say good morning!"

"It's all right," Varasach said.

"No, it's not! I tend to throw myself, body and soul, into my work, and I have a terrible habit of expecting everyone around me to do the same. That is the root of Cole's bitterness toward me, and I don't want to plant those same seeds in your heart. Heaven knows I despise small talk, but…" He gestured with his cup. "Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you." As Varasach said this, she realized that Lou's opinion of "small talk" was actually a good one.

"How is Cole?" she asked, eager to get to a more substantial topic. "I just realized that I never asked you before. He mentioned an injury in his letter."

"Cole is…surviving," Lou said, carefully. "I… No, Overlord broke his back during their last battle. He has been partially healed, but Gems can only do so much… I intend to find a surgeon who can finally put him on the mend once this war is over."

"And Chedva?" Varasach asked. "Cole didn't mention her in his letter."

Lou blinked, sitting a little straighter in his seat. "Hosts! I'm going senile before my time. I was supposed to tell you as soon as I arrived because Cole forgot to put it in his letter. I'm sorry, Vara."

"What?"

"Overlord didn't kill Sage! She and Chedva are safe in the West. Cole plans to bring them home once the plague is no longer a threat."

Varasach nearly dropped her cup in shock. She had assumed Sage dead since the beginning of winter- ever since that terrible day in Cyrus' fortress when she'd been sick, afraid she herself was dying from the plague. Cole had left her that day, dragged off by Kai on that quest to find their Blades.

"That is wonderful news," Varasach managed at last, unprepared for the barrage of memories that Lou's news brought back. She'd been working so hard to not think of Sage, about what Overlord did to her, about what Cole had done to himself out of grief…

"Is Cole doing better?" she asked. "He was struggling, last I saw him. Does he still…" She gripped her saucer a little tighter: her memories of those days after Sage's supposed death were dark and terrible. "Cut himself?"

Lou sagged, and Varasach felt guilty for burdening him with such a question. "Cole's road to recovery will be a long one," he admitted. "But Sage has been an invaluable help. Right now, he just needs time, and our support."

It was as if Cole's demons had taken residence in one of the empty chairs around their table: a thick, dark, grieved silence settled over them, and they ate their breakfast without another word.

Cole has such a sensitive soul, Varasach reflected as she picked at a piece of white fruit. Becoming the Dark Knight, being forced to steal, to hurt, to kill… Of course it would hurt him terribly. Of course he would feel required to punish himself. But the lengths to which he went…

With all of Varasach's heart, she wished she could reach Cole right now. She wished she could embrace him and feel his arms around her in return. She wished she could ask him to play his violin for her. In the past, that had always lifted his spirits. Cole was a giver: he always felt his best while helping others. When he thought that he had no one to give himself to, or that he wasn't giving enough, that's when his demons pounced.

So Varasach wondered how he really was, trapped in the South with a debilitating injury, his love and daughter an ocean away.

I was never enough. In those awful days back in Cyrus' fortress, she had done her very best, and it hadn't been enough to stop the nightmares, the cutting, the quiet weeping in the dead of night when he thought no one was awake to notice. No one but Sage had ever been enough to fill him completely. Sage, and maybe Kai.

What a wonderful, terrifying feeling it must be, having so much responsibility for the emotional wellbeing of another person. Perhaps it was foolish to even consider it, but Varasach hoped that, someday, she could have that sort of responsibility. Could she ever be someone's Sage? Or- even better- could she find someone to be her Sage? She wished she could hold someone and know that she was enough for them, and that they were enough for her.

That was a selfish desire, though, and Varasach sighed to herself, eyes downcast.

"You'll have to pardon me for broaching this subject," Lou said as he set down his empty bowl. "But how are things going with your father?"

"Going?"

"Heh. I've always found the phrase odd, too. I think I'm sensing some tension between you two?" At her blank stare, he tried again. "Some anger."

"Oh." Varasach pressed her lips together. This was not a subject she wanted to talk about- especially not this early in the morning. "Garmadon does not listen to me."

"So you two fight a lot?"

Varasach hesitated. A fight would imply that she and Garmadon were aggressive toward each other. But, when she thought about it, Garmadon wasn't ever angry with her. Disappointed, yes. But never to the point where he lost his temper and hurt her, verbally or physically. Whereas, Varasach realized, I seem to go out of my way to hurt him at every possible opportunity.

"He doesn't listen," Varasach said finally. "But he is kind to me." Kinder than I deserve.

"Mmm." Lou nodded slowly. "Please, tell me if I ask anything too personal? But I would like to understand what's happening here."

"Okay."

"Thank you. Why are you angry with your father?"

"Because he wants to kill everyone in the South."

"That's the only reason?"

"I'm angry because of what he did to my mother."

Grayrose thrummed its agreement.

"That's understandable. But what has he done to you?"

"To me?"

"Yes. Has he done anything to you, personally, to make you angry? Again, tell me if I'm too direct."

Varasach pondered everything Garmadon had ever done to her. He tried to have me killed when I was born.

But then he let Kaeli go when she escaped. He let me live. He gave my mother freedom.

He left the West to fend for itself when Overlord came.

But there was nothing he could have done without the Blades, which he didn't have.

He found me at Sheshin Keep, and he took me from my friends.

But he thought- he still thinks- he was rescuing me from imprisonment and torture. She hadn't ever explained to Garmadon that she lost her fingers to gangrene, not cruelty at Zane or Lord Kaytake's hand.

"No," she admitted, a little surprised by this revelation. "Garmadon has never been cruel to me. But that doesn't matter! So long as he allows his Guards to murder innocent people, I cannot stop being angry at him."

"Hm." Lou set his elbow on his armrest and stroked his chin. "Perhaps it's not my place to say, but I think that your father really does try, Vara. If you also tried to be kind to him, maybe he would take down some of his walls and finally listen to your opinion on this matter."

"Maybe," Varasach said skeptically.

"Here's an idea," Lou said. "This afternoon, take your lunch to his study. Talk with him. See if you can get him to see things from your point of view."

"How would I do that?"

"Just talk to him," Lou said. "Like you're talking to me."

When Varasach said nothing, Lou continued, his voice so quiet even she struggled to hear it.

"Vara, child. I do not follow the Way, but I know of its values. If you're unable to find a place in your heart to love your own father, what does that say about your relationship with your god?"

His words stabbed through her heart. She looked away, embarrassed and ashamed. She had told herself almost the same thing on the day she first tried to forgive Garmadon. On that day, she felt like she had made great advances in the battle against her hatred.

How did I manage to take so many steps backwards after that?

"Promise me you will try, Vara." Lou said. "At lunch, if not sooner."

Varasach nodded faintly. "Okay."

"Thank you." Lou looked relieved. "It's a terrible feeling for a father to be hated by his child. I know this pain firsthand, and not even Garmadon, for all his flaws, deserves to feel its sting."

"Cole hates you?" Varasach asked, surprised.

"Not anymore, hope," Lou said. "But a couple years ago, when he was about your age… Heh. I'll admit, I was a touch too strict with him. But I have learned from my mistakes, and Garmadon is trying to do the same for your sake. Regardless of what he did to you in the past, Vara, he is attempting to do the right thing today. Even if he misses the mark, don't ignore his efforts."

Varasach started to reply, but the library door opened. She turned in her seat.

The Lord Rector entered, followed by a pair of his own Guards and a servant bearing a tray of tea.

"Hello, Waren," Lou said. Despite his pleasant tone, the Priest scowled at him. The Guards and servant glanced at each other with wide eyes. It took Varasach a moment to realize why: for whatever reason, it was considered a grave offense to call Lord Rectors by anything but their honorific. For Lou to use Waren's name so casually- and in front of the keep's staff, no less- was like slapping the Priest's face.

Under Varasach's blouse, Grayrose suddenly buzzed with panic. She placed a hand over the Gem- or, Amulet, as she now knew it was called- to calm it.

What's wrong? she asked.

Get away from him, Grayrose snapped. He is going to hurt you.

The Lord Rector? Varasach said incredulously, looking the old man up and down. The Priest walked with a slouch in his shoulders. He didn't look capable of drawing a sword, much less using one. I don't see any weapons. How would he hurt me?

I don't know. My power doesn't see that far, Aida. All I know is that he wants you dead.

"Princess Vara, Prince Lou," the Lord Rector said. "I was told I would find you here. May I…?" He gestured to the empty third chair around the low table.

"If you must," said Lou, his smile never fading.

With her hand still over the Amulet, Varasach caught Lou's eye and shook her head softly. He held her gaze for a heartbeat.

When he returned his attention to the Lord Rector, his expression was firmer. A faint change, one which the Lord Rector probably did not notice. But Varasach did, and it gave her at least a small measure of comfort.

"To what do we owe this honor of your esteemed presence?" Lou asked.

The Lord Rector scrutinized Lou as he dropped stiffly into the plush chair. To the side, a servant poured three cups of tea.

"Does there need to be a reason?" he asked once he was comfortable. "I'm an old man hoping to enjoy the company of the King's guests. One can get a little lonely in such a big, empty house."

Varasach sensed no venom in his tone or face. Are you sure it's him? she asked Grayrose.

Yes.

"I can't argue with that," Lou replied to the Priest as he accepted a steaming cup from the servant. "That's why I left, of course; I couldn't bear to stay after my father vanished at sea. First King rest his soul."

The Lord Rector's jaw tightened beneath his wrinkled, sagging jowls. "Let's put old grievances behind us, at least for a few minutes," he said, and turned in his chair. "Vara, I haven't spoken to you in a couple days. I'm sorry. Things have just been so busy…"

"It's okay," Varasach said as she took a cup from the servant. It rattled against the saucer as she started to lean back in her seat.

Grayrose shrieked in her mind, a sound akin to metal scraping stone. With her nerves already wound to the breaking point, Varasach dropped the cup. It splashed across the carpet at her feet.

"Oh, dear," Lou said, and sipped his own tea as the servant knelt to pat the mess dry with a towel.

"Are you all right, child?" The Lord Rector placed a hand on Varasach's. She resisted the urge to slap it away as the Amulet continued to wail inside her head.

"I-I'm fine," she said. "Just…I think I'll go to my room."

"Are you feeling unwell? Child, sit back down! Don't hurt yourself." The Lord Rector looked so concerned that Varasach hesitated.

Grayrose, control yourself! she ordered, and the Amulet reluctantly quieted. She took a deep, calming breath and reseated herself.

The tea, Grayrose said. Don't drink the tea! I sensed his hostility when you took the cup: he meant for you to die after finishing it. The whole pot is probably poisoned.

The Lord Rector set his cup on the table and took Varasach's from the floor. He started to refill it. "You're fortunate it didn't fall on your lap," he said. "It might have burned you!"

"Y-yes." Varasach tucked her legs under herself so the servant could clean up the mess. She tentatively took her refilled cup and saucer from the Priest. The caramel-colored liquid seemed harmless enough, and it smelled normal, too. What should she do? She couldn't set it down and leave the room without the Lord Rector realizing she suspected something, and then what would he do? Send his Guards to kill her with a sword?

She looked to Lou, hoping he would have some idea. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stared in stricken silence.

Lou was drinking the tea.

The servant left, soaked towel in hand, and Lou spoke calmly.

"Tell me, Waren. How long do I have to live?"

The Lord Rector blinked. "What?"

"It all depends on your motive," Lou continued, and smoothly set the empty cup on the table. He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, twirling the saucer between his fingers. "Why are you trying to kill us? Because we're the only two people who stand in the way of your grandson becoming King? That seems the most logical answer. But then, you must be careful! It can't look like your dear grandson Deniel was involved in this plot. And you seem like the sort of man born with a healthy dose of self-preservation, so you wouldn't doom yourself by leaving a trail of evidence." He nodded to the four Guards standing at the edge of the room. "They're yours, I assume? So they won't tell a soul we had this conversation, or that you were alone with us just before we died." He grinned- a terrifying, almost Overlord-esque look- and Varasach's skin went cold. "First King rest our souls."

The Lord Rector tensed like an animal set to sprint to safety- or a predator preparing to pounce. "What game are you playing, Lou?" he growled.

"Do you think this is a game?" Lou's eyes were emerald daggers. "You toy with lives that are not your own, Waren, and I'll be damned if I allow you to lay a hand on Vara."

"You are delusional, Lou, if you think you can elbow your way into my domain and throw around false accusations."

"Your domain?" Lou chuckled and rolled up his right sleeve to his elbow. "Here we are again! This is the domain of the Blesseds, Waren, and a Blessed you are not. Why, that statement alone could be considered an act of treason! I could have you executed for those words."

"But you will not!" the Lord Rector shouted, face reddening. "You will not, because you are already dead!"

Lou was unimpressed. "Hm," he said, and broke his porcelain saucer in two as easily as a child might snap kindling. He used a broken edge to cut a line up his forearm.

Blood rushed at once up into Varasach's head and through her fingertips as she looked away, hands clenching around her cup so tight it splashed across her bodice.

But looking away wasn't enough to push the memories from her mind: of Cole bent over a sink with a reddened razor, trying desperately to wash away the evidence as she stood in the doorway, speechless. Of finding him bleeding on the floor by his bed in the dark of night, dead-eyed, dry-eyed, deaf to Varasach's pleas to get up, to give her the blade, to just let me help you.

Varasach looked back at the man in that chair. His dark hair, his calm, soft green eyes, and for one awful, terrifying moment she saw Cole. Just watching his own blood drip in a thick stream onto the chair.

Varasach snatched a cloth napkin from her tray and moved to stand, but Lou held up his bloodied hand, and she paused.

Lou removed his own handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at the wound. He wiped away the blood, and-

The cut disappeared. Not even a scar remained.

The Lord Rector shot to his feet. His wrinkled, spotted hands trembled at his sides.

"If you leave now, I will show you mercy," Lou said, discarding the stained handkerchief on the floor. He leaned his elbow on the armrest, playing with the two broken glass shards- one bloodied along its point- between his fingers.

The Lord Rector snarled and waved to the Guards by the door. All four men- Varasach's personal Guards included- drew their swords and lunged at Lou.

Without having moved his hand, the two broken pieces of Lou's saucer flew through the air, followed by a faint tail of blue light. Soundlessly the shards slit the necks of two Guards, then lodged, stained with fresh blood, into the far wall. The remaining Guards froze with horror as their comrades fell.

"Last chance, Waren." Lou's ankle swayed impatiently.

Something changed in the Lord Rector's eyes as he realized he no longer controlled the situation. As he realized he might have never been in control.

"What are you?" he whispered.

"What am I?" Lou rose from his seat, going toe-to-toe with the Lord Rector. Though the Prince was a great deal smaller, there was no question who held power here. "I am a survivor, Waren. Get the hell out of here before I kill you."

In the long moment of breathless silence that followed, Grayrose thrummed a low note, sounding more than a little pleased with itself: Varasach got the impression that the Amulet thought itself responsible for the Lord Rector's unmasking.

Seething, Waren spun on his heel and stalked from the room with much more agility than when he had entered, motioning for his two remaining Guards to follow.

"Are you all right, Vara?" Lou asked.

Varasach nodded. "What…" She shifted, taking her legs from under herself, and stood, gripping the arm of her chair to keep her balance. The carpet was still damp under her feet from the spilled tea. Her knees shook as she looked at Lou's arm.

Lou followed her stare and flexed his fingers. "Implants," he said. "Small Gems under my skin, which Overlord set once he had taken my body. I plan to have them removed eventually, but they're a touch too useful at the present… I am so, so sorry. I had to remove the poison from my body, and the opportunity to unnerve Waren was too good to pass up. I should have known how that would affect you." After a moment of silence in which Varasach did not know how to respond, he went to the two bodies on the floor and crouched, head bowed.

Varasach stood quietly behind him. One of these Guards was her own; he had stood by her side every morning for three days now, and she didn't even know his name.

How was she supposed to feel about the death of this man who worked for the people wanting to kill her and Lou? Because right now, all she felt was sadness.

Deniel doesn't even want to be King, Varasach thought, thinking back to their conversation in the snowy garden, under the stars. He would feel terrible if he knew these men had given their lives in an attempt to put the crown on his head.

"These hands have done many evils," Lou said, shaky palms open before him. "But this is the first time evil has been done by my hands. I pray it will never happen again."

"You were protecting us."

"I could have cut them at the knee," Lou said. "I…I wish I had. Their deaths were not necessary to keep you safe."

Varasach placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched under her touch.

He looks so strong, she thought. But he's just as hurt as me.

At least she had been in charge of her own mind her whole life. Lou had not been given that luxury.

"You didn't drink the tea, did you?" Lou asked.

"No. But I stepped on the wet carpet."

"That's all right." He flexed his hand again. "Judging by how it behaved inside my body, it was a slow-acting poison. I'll wager it was meant to mimic the symptoms of the plague- nausea, vomiting blood, et cetera- to keep people from suspecting foul play. The Lord Rector made a mistake, tipping his hand like that as soon as I pushed him a little off-balance." He smiled grimly. "But I'm not surprised. I tend to have an unsettling effect on people, these days."

In her mind's eye Varasach saw Lou cutting his arm, and winced.

After an uncomfortable moment Lou straightened and smoothed his pants. "Thank you, Grayrose, for warning us."

The Amulet thrummed in Varasach's head, but said nothing.

"What now?" Varasach asked. "What will the Lord Rector do now that you stopped him from killing us?"

Lou's face darkened. "We go to the King first," he said. "He must be warned of Waren's treachery." He grabbed Varasach's hand and pulled her out the door and toward Garmadon's study, just down the hall. "Stay close to me, Vara. We don't know who else is in on the plot. How many Guards are on his side? And what of the servants? We are fortunate to have your Amulet with us; it will be an invaluable help as we gather…allies." His focus drifted to a pair of bodies a ways down the hall.

Two more guards, bloody, motionless on the carpet. Outside the King's bedroom. Varasach looked to Lou with alarm.

"Waren," Lou said, then cursed, rushing toward them. "If my mercy caused the death of the King, I would never forgive myself. Stay close, Vara!"

I've been rereading this story from just about the start (skipping the first 20 or so chapters because they're crap and not canon and shhhhh) so that's been a trip. It's crazy to see how far my characters have come- especially Cole, whose character I botched until around chapter 50 or so. Sorry, darling. The most consistent character throughout the whole story is probably Kai, who always had an obnoxious but beautiful shut-up-and-let-me-love-you soul.

A guest reviewer asked me to follow up on my promise to reveal the characters' Meyers-Briggs personality types. I'm pleasantly surprised because I don't think anyone actually expressed interest in that before now, which is why I didn't actually share it. So here's the ones I've got for you... Cole: ISTJ. Jay: ENFP. Kai and Besai: INFP. Let me know if you want anyone else typed; those are just the ones I remembered to make a note of XD

As a bonus, just to satisfy myself because most of you will probably have no clue what I'm talking about, I also Enneagram-typed some TG characters recently. Cole: Two. Deniel: Four. Vara: Five. Jay: Six. Kyle: Seven. Besai and Ronin: Eight. Kai: Nine. (Fun fact for y'all: I'm a Seven.) Again, let me know if you want another character typed. I personally like Enneagram typing better, since it types a person based on how they see the world, rather than how the world sees them. Also there's only nine distinct types, as opposed to the half a million nuanced MBTI's. Sleeping At Last has the GREATEST set of songs for the Enneagram types, which I highly recommend, even if you know nothing about the Enneagram. I stumbled across the Enneagram through SAL's song, Two, on YouTube, and it's so...brutally Cole. Loving others to the point of self-destruction. Go listen to it now. Do you hear a love song, or a plea for help? If the latter, then congratulations, my man, you're probably a Two yourself.

Okay, that's enough rambling. Thank you, KiraVulpes, for your continued help. Thank you, reviewers, for your kind words. Thank you all for your patience as I battle both my mind and my muse. I hope you all have a great day, and God bless.