Chapter 16 - Prophecy

After the chaos of the courtroom announcement, Almira had received the official details of her punishment. Apparently the judge had gone through some of the details, but decided to pull the recording to a close due to the raucousness of the crowd. When the announcement had passed to the rest of the people beyond the doors the entire military base had been swept with excitement, a liveliness only matched by the victory they had snatched from the jaws of their captors. A few noblemen had expressed their disdain, only to meet a swift physical abuse from the military members who caught wind of their words.

Needless to say, the atmosphere was the most lively combination of cheer and physical fights that the crater had ever seen. Many nobles came away with more than just bruised egos, forcing them to mind their own business and remain within the royal complex or otherwise mind their own business. With painted targets on their backs and the military currently holding the rest of the general populaces' good favor, they instantaneously became the new villains.

Far away from the rioting and celebrations, Almira was once again secluded in her own world. The time frame she had been given was two weeks. Two weeks to tie up any loose ends, to prepare herself for her long journey. Exile from Fleogas; in two weeks' time she would board a ship and be sent flying into space, never to return to her planet. It was enough time for the Technology Brigade to rewire a ship for space travel, and time for her to find peace within herself.

It was hard.

Her visitors were limited to people who truly knew her, forcing all other military members and subordinates to send letters and gifts with the higher ranking members when they visited. General Jin had visited multiple times bearing an unruly amount of items from his division; Garen was even worse. The wind benders were devastated, sending massive packaged of letters that had Almira laughing and weeping all the while she read them. Most of them had the sense to not send anything else, knowing that the captain was a practical woman and she didn't need many things to take with her to space. But others sent more temporary gifts to liven her space, and soon she found herself walking through a botanist's dream house. Exotic plants and rare flowers from various craters had made their way into her room, and while it made a jungle of her house it also gave her a bit of lightness to her soul.

Arden's squad was just as bad. After his second visit she had convinced him to just keep the gifts for himself, with no more room in her own house to spare. He had laughed, saying something about how his house was just as cluttered, without the additional mess, but he had complied without much pushing. Perhaps he wanted something to remember her by when she was gone. It was a thought she tried to push away as much as possible, but it still left a heaviness in her chest.

Their relationship was a bit strained now with her impending leave looming over their heads. He took all his free time he had to spend with her, and then some more, skirting duties in order to soak up his sister's presence. Soon she would be gone forever, a concept that had essentially evaded him until now. Sometimes they sparred, sometimes they read the letters addressed to her, since she had a massive fan base openly talking with her now, sometimes they simply sat in silence with one another. Words had a way of failing, but neither seemed to mind. Their presence was enough.

Sometimes he brought their mother with him, though not as often anymore. Queen Isolda had burst into tears the moment she had been allowed to see Almira, and had nearly fallen to the floor the moment they were able to see each other after a long week. Sometimes she showed up on her own, bustling around the room and water the plants, taking care of the garden that had suddenly appeared that Almira had little time to tend. But it was obvious that grief had taken her heart; she had lost one daughter, and was about to lose her second. It was a loss that was difficult to bear, even for one as strong willed as her.

Eaghan also appeared often. Almira had known that he had been devising a defense for her during the trial, but she had never fully realized the extent to which he had gone. On the first night after the verdict they had stayed up late with steaming cups of tea, Eaghan regaling the blow by blow account of his trials and tribulations with the jury and the picky nobles. Sitting amazed, she listened with half a mind, the other half wondering when he had gotten so independent, so noble. She brought this up to him, making him flush from embarrassment.

"All this time, you've stuck up for me against the nobles, and Arden, and even... him." It was a common word used now for their father, the image in their two heads of the late king ruined by all they had discovered about him. "I couldn't stand by. You're my sister."

Day by day, Almira often found herself in someone's company. Moments of solace were difficult to come by. But when they did she found herself sitting on the back porch, reminiscing of a time when she had a companion who sat with her, speaking of everything and nothing at the same time. If she closed her eyes she could conjure the ghosts of the past, the way his tangled black hair shifted with every movement of his head, those cobalt eyes staring intensely at her own orbs. She could pretend that everything was the same, that nothing had changed, only for a moment. Inevitably she would open her eyes and come face to face with the harsh reality that stood in front of her.

When she did have time to think, she found her thoughts despairing again. In those days after she had woken up in the hospital, she had become a ghost in her own house. Her mind had been blank, succumbed to the facts in front of her. Death didn't seem to phase her. In a way she was already dead, lingering in the sparring room, standing in the doorway and staring into the emptiness. It was now that she was faced against exile did she rear her head and cry at her destiny, cursing the darkness as it lay.

She had fought hard for her homeland all these years, and had even seen the dawn of a new century. All that work, only to be sent away before she could truly see the fruits of her labor. When she woke up in the morning it was only to resume the agony and tears of the evening, the pain at having to leave everything she knew and loved. She had to leave her men behind, the teams that she loved and adored so much. The routine that they had, the camaraderie that they had forged, all to be broken up by the law of the land. In their letters they never blamed her, only speaking of the good in her heart and how much they wished her the best. Did they truly understand the pain she faced? How was she to build herself a future when the foundations she had constructed were ripped out from underneath her?

What was she to do? Wander the stars, alone? Perhaps she could make her way to another planet and blend in. It was the most logical thing to do. But that sounded lonely, a cruel future that only sought to remind her constantly of everything she had lost.

Of all the people that had come to see her, there were five people she wanted to see the most. For the first few days she had inquired about the paladins to her brothers, but neither wanted to say a word. Eventually she gave up. From what she gathered they had already left the planet, blasting through the stars and off to new world that needed their help. Arden had seen them off, leaving a feeling of sorrow in her chest.

She never wanted to admit how much that truly hurt her.

On the tenth day, an unlikely visitor approached.

Almira had been sitting on the back porch, staring out into the forest. Inside the house her mother was rummaging around as usual, tending to the various plants that had begun to overtake the walls and furniture inside. Almira could hear her gentle footsteps padding around, shuffling through the jagged pathways that they had to improvise as more plants had been added. At least for now, the gifts seemed to slow to a halt. Most likely, Arden was taking the rest of them, and for that Almira was thankful.

"Almira," her mother's voice called out from inside. "You have a visitor."

She perked a brow at the strange tone in her mother's voice, turning her head as the back door slid open. Golden eyes widened as she sprang to her feet, bowing at the waist.

"Your grace!"

A wizened, elderly woman appeared on the back porch, a wooden cane held in front of her. Even for the object her posture was immaculate, back ramrod straight and neck carrying her head high. The white and gray strands were pulled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, and for a moment it was like seeing double, though one much younger than the other. Purple eyes twinkled with mischief, face wrinkled and lined with many centuries lived.

"Oh, come now, you don't have to do that."

Almira straightened with uncertainty, offering her seat cushion to the woman before grabbing another for herself. Queen Isolda slid the door open, a tray of tea and small cakes appearing between the elder woman and the younger, a knowing look on her face. Nodding warily, Almira watched her mother suspiciously as she closed the door behind her, leaving the two alone.

"Do you mind if we eat? I'm rather hungry from the trip."

Jolting back to the present, Almira quickly poured cups of tea for the duo, watching the woman carefully as she sipped from her mug. Her eyes looked out at the scenery around them, taking in the view with delight. "My, it's been many years since I've been back here."

"Not to be rude, ma'am, but why are you here?"

There was a twinkle in her eyes as she looked back at Almira. "Oh, not much. I just had an inkling that I might be useful here, is all."

Almira had mentioned this woman to Keith once, but seeing her in the flesh brought back strong memories of her youth. The Mystic of the Seventh Crater was as much mysterious and magical as the griffons themselves, a reincarnated spirit whose prophetic skills and wisdom were hailed around the planet. The current incarnation was over seven hundred years old, and had now watched the reigns of three kings. Though various features changed with each reincarnation, their purple eyes always remained a key feature.

But as impressive as they were, Almira had a much more intimate connection with this person. Golden eyes looked over her features, noting a few lines that had appeared over the past few years. "I guess you've heard the verdict, then."

The woman hummed, setting her cup in her lap. "Heard, yes. But what does it mean to you?"

The question burned in Almira's chest, and she was forced to look away. Even though the date was two days away, she was unable to come to terms with it. In this space, everything seemed like a dream. But still her guest waited, staring her down with an intense gaze. Swallowing hard, Almira spoke. "It means that everything that I've built up here, I'll never see again. I'll be alone. And I'm scared."

"Scared. Scared of what?"

"Going up there. Alone."

"When you were a child, didn't you ever dream of soaring through the skies?"

It was a strange and almost silly question, and Almira gave the mystic a strange look. "Well, yes, but-"

"But nothing. Skies, space, galaxies. They're all a part of the world beyond this once. What's going a little bit higher, a little bit further than you imagined when you were young?"

Almira mused over the explanation. It certainly made things a little easier to imagine. But… She frowned. "But I'll be alone."

Sighing, the elder woman shifted in her seat. "I'm not here to tell you that this will be easy. Change, like anything, is like growing pains. Yes, it will be painful and scary and difficult. But your future is only limited to what you decide you can and cannot do. If you decide to live in fear and live alone, that is a conscious choice manifested by your ideas."

Grimacing, her words were like a slap on the face. Of course; how could Almira be so stupid as to forget such a thing? On the day that she had woken up in a hospital bed, she had not just resigned to her fate but also determined that she would write her own story. If she could force the nobles to move out of the way of her own pen and paper, how could she limit herself to her imagination and fears? A smile finally pulled at the corners of her lips. "Yes, ma'am."

Waving a hand, the woman downed another gulp of tea. "Emrys is fine, child. I held you and shielded you as a babe. I knew you were no ordinary girl from the start."

"About that…"

Purple eyes rounded on the younger girl, who fidgeted with her hands. "You knew my mother, didn't you?"

Emrys set the cup down onto the tray, pouring herself another draught. "Are you truly asking that question, or are you asking something else?"

The witch could always see through niceties, fibs, and lies, could see the true intent of someone's heart. Almira winced at the frankness of the question, but reformed her question. "He told me that I should have been captured with my mother, taken for experimentation. Why did you save me?"

She grinned at the honest question, sipping from her cup before answering. "Because you were different. You've never been told your prophecy, have you?"

It was a tradition for families to ask the mystic for blessings for their children when they were born. Often times the mystic was able to produce prophecies about particular babies, all of which came true with frightening accuracy. Almira nodded, her own prophecy engraved in her brain as a royal child. "I have. It was something about fortune and a golden sunrise-"

"No, no, no!" Emrys waved her hand frantically, brows furrowing in irritation. "That's not it at all! That was a fake created by your father!"

"What?!" Incredulous, Almira leaned forward. "So, do you remember mine?"

"Of course!" The woman snorted in ridiculule, draining another cup of tea with a sigh. "I remember all my prophecies. Even just by looking at someone I can recall what I predicted, even hundreds of years ago!" But purple eyes sombered up, staring into Almira's soul. "Yours, though, I could never forget, even if I reincarnated right here and now."

Leaning forward with eagerness, Almira's face brightened. "Then, can you tell me?"

"Are you certain you want to hear it?"

The severity in Emrys' tone took Almira aback, straightening her posture and righting herself. Confusion. "Is it bad?"

"On the contrary." She sighed, a wistful look on her face. "Some prophecies are light, easy burdens to carry. Others not so much." That look again, piercing Almira's soul. "Once you learn it, you may never recover from the weight you must shoulder."

"I will know it." What was another burden on her shoulders compared to what she faced now? Certainly it sounded easy. Emrys seemed to accept her answer, a smile back on her face.

"Then listen closely." Closing her eyes, the mystic inhaled deeply before exhaling steadily. The air became saturated, like a heavy coat that pressed down upon Almira's head, the feeling of magic in the air. She gasped when the mystic opened her eyes, purple orbs glowing brilliantly as her voice reverberating through the space.

"The daughter of the eastern wind, she bring destruction to stability. The daughter of the west wind, she will usher in a new era from the crumbling ruins. Hail Eos, goddess of the dawn! Your daughter chases you into the eternal night, she who leaves all things known for rewards greater still."

As she finished the air began to lighten again, swirling mystic energy dying down as their surroundings returned to normal. Purple eyes dimmed as they regained their normal sense, although her lips remained pressed into a line as she watched the girl in front of her.

Almira was stunned. Silent.

"Do you see why your father hid this from you?"

A tear slid down her face. "I was always meant to leave."

Regret. "Yes."

A second tear, followed by a third. Her chest refused to heave, her breath steady as normal. "Why did he hide it?"

"He was scared." The look on the elder's face was far off as she reminisced. "Of all the prophecies I had given, it was the most severe and punishing. No one would want their child to face such a harsh future."

Golden eyes narrowed. "And yet he spat in my face, told me that I should have died with my mother."

"People change, my dear." Gold met purple in sympathy. "Fear is an incredibly powerful emotion. It changes anyone, for better or for worse. The way I see it, your father was suddenly thrust into a situation he couldn't back out of. Fear changed him. And for worse, he cursed himself and brought many people down with him."

"Fear."

"Yes."

There was too much information, and it suddenly became overbearing. A cry burst from her chest and Almira buried her face in her hands, weeping. The tray between them shifted, and she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her, soothing her as she sobbed.

"My prophecy has brought you to this point, my dear." Almira quieted enough to listen to her words, although she continued to grieve. "Fear can drive you to greatness or to loss. Only you can take control of your fate now. And I believe that you will fly."

When the mystic took her leave she left Almira feeling stronger than ever. It had taken several blows to knock her down, but she had begun to rebuild herself. The foundations were being laid, stronger than ever. She wondered just how the mystic knew where to be at the right time. Was there really such a thing as magic? It was the only explanation she could think of, but she found that it mattered little. All that lingered in her chest was a sense of relief and thankfulness.

Thank you, Emrys.

The next day she began packing. Never before in her life had she realized just how much clothing she had. An entire closet filled with gowns stood before her, doors flung open as she stared into the expanse. Sifting through the bunch she selected a golden ensemble that matched her eyes, a bit plain but the most casual of the bunch. It was just in case she needed it; who knew if she had to dazzle dinner guests some day in the future. She rolled her eyes but tossed the item onto the floor behind her, lazily aimed in the general direction of her bag. One and done.

But as she looked at the far corner of the closet her fingers drifted over a bunch of white material, feathery and light to the touch. Sentiment touched her heart, and she pulled the dress out to look at it. It was the dress she had worn at her sister's wedding, a craftily sliced up piece that she had personally changed because of its initially restrictive nature. She could still remember her family's booming laughter along with the hesitance of the nobles as they looked positively mortified. While short in the front with a train in the back, she recalled that she had attached a dagger to her upper thigh in protest of the ridiculous thing. No one had found it more amusing than Arden and Lavena, and even her mother cackled in laughter.

It was entirely gaudy and most likely going to stay at the bottom of her bag, but she tossed it in for sentimental reasons. There weren't many other sentimental things she had, so she would indulge herself this time.

Fortunately the other closet she had was filled with identical uniform pieces and training outfits. Black shirts, black tank tops, black turtlenecks, black vests, black jackets, black black black black black. It made the pickings easy, and she shoved various sets into her bag. Never in her life had she been more thankful for the simplistic pieces of the military uniform. Still, she felt oddly naked without the more essential uniform pieces; her helmet, for starters, as well as her communications pad that strapped onto her forearm. Shaking her head, she doubted that she would receive any of those, closing the closet for good and turning to sort and organize her bag a bit better. She grinned at the sight that lay behind her, the clothing thrown around her room, the messiest she had seen it in a while.

Through the night she waltzed through her house, darting in and out of rooms and grabbing various supplies or putting them back. Basic toiletries seemed good, but what about those stretching bands that she sometimes used? Would she need those in space? Items went in and out of the bag, and when the sun came up the next morning she flopped onto her bed, exhausted from her organization spree.

It was how Arden found her near noon, sprawled across her bed diagonally with her entire house torn into pieces. He couldn't help but snicker at her partially opened mouth, a sound that had her jolting up and smacking her lips, golden eyes dazed. "Wha'happen?"

Her sloppy reaction sent him cackling, earning him a dry but amused look. Wiping his eyes of tears he sat on the bed, scratching his sister's scalp as she snuggled into the blankets. "What happened here?"

"Packing. Started last night." Stifling a yawn, she stared at his surprised expression. "What?"

"I wasn't sure you'd ever start."

Shrugging, she flopped over. "Yeah, well, Emrys knocked some sense into me."

"Emrys?! She was here?"

"Duh."

"Damn. How did I even miss that old lady?"

He received a sharp jab in his rib cage for the comment, hissing at the blow. Almira's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Respect your elders."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"

Eyes crinkled. Then Almira chortled, stifling her chuckle behind a hand. It was enough to crack Arden open, and soon the two were giggling and laughing for no reason, lying on the bed in the afternoon light. How long had it been since he had heard her laugh like that? Whatever Emrys had told her, it had worked. Magic. He shook his head. He would never understand.

"Hungry?" An eager nod. "Alright, let's get some food going."

"You mean ask someone else to bring us some?"

"Oi." Smack. Airi gaped, pillow dropping from her face before a wicked grin spread across her lips.

"Oh, you're really asking for it now."

Emrys had lived through seven hundred and thirty seven years of war, devastation, and every atrocity one could imagine. She had seen the rise and fall of monarchs, the inevitable ebb and flow of policies that the nobles chunked out year after year. Her eyes had seen countless prophecies of the hundreds of children that were brought before her. Even if her memory failed her now in some manners, it persisted in others.

But she knew that she would never forget those golden yellow eyes for all the rest of the time that she was given to live on this planet.

The first time she had met Kynthia Oleil, she had marveled at the child's downy white hair and yellow eyes that could pierce into someone's soul. Even as the mystic, a person completely in harmony with the universe's quintessence, she had been unnerved with one look from the baby. Something about her was different than any other Fleogan, but Emrys had put those thoughts to rest, chalking it up to her nerves. She had never seen the girl's mother, who remained suspiciously out of sight of everyone in the village, but she didn't press the nervous father who had brought his only daughter before the mystic.

They did not meet again until many years later. Even then, Emrys knew that something was in the air. This was no ordinary meeting.

By then Kynthia was a full grown woman, wife to the king and expecting his child. But fear had brought her back to her home village, a tiny rural space that welcomed the woman back, although suspicious of her intentions. Who in their right mind would leave the royal complex and capital city, only to return to an impoverished and humble town on the outskirts of the planet? Emrys was suspicious, but minded her own business.

When the time came for her to give birth, the queen had requested Emrys' assistance. A strange request, but she complied once again. She could clearly remember the moment that the princess had entered the world, her mother struggling on the bed to see clearly.

"What does she look like?"

"Like her mother, your grace."

Body giving up, the queen sank into the bed, relief clearly painted on her features. And yet again, Emrys said not a word, only watching with a strange idea beginning to form in her mind.

It was days later, when Emrys had paid a private visit to the woman and child that the queen opened up. Everything spilled from her mouth; her mother's true identity as a Galran fugitive, her private concerns about her identity, the fear she had endured all those months that her child would manifest Galran features, bringing the two of them into question. She had cried openly, tears dropping onto her daughter's face even though she did her best to wipe them away. Still an unnamed child, whose eyes were still closed, unseeing. And yet, all the mystic could do was watch, unsure of what her place was.

Then came the day of prophecy. The moment Emrys cradled the child she saw a brilliant future ahead, glorious and frightening. The quintessence had swirled around her in a vibrant manner, unlike any other child she had ever touched, words tumbling from her mouth even as she stood horrified. What future was she condemning this child to? When the whirlwind had stopped Emrys bowed in apology to the queen, shamefully handing her child back to her. She had opened her mouth to apologize, but the mother spoke first.

"I know what to call her now."

Purple met golden eyes in fear, but for the first time that Emrys could remember the queen stood up straight, shoulders pulled back as she rose to her full height. Gone was the fearful woman who had returned to her homeland, riddled with anxiety of what her child would look like, most of all become. Emrys could see what the king had seen in her, a woman of such powerful carriage that she could move mountains and trees out of her path with just a touch. And for the first time, Kynthia smiled.

"Almira Eos."

Exalted. Goddess of Dawn. It was a powerful and potentially blasphemous thing to name one's child after a god or goddess, but Emrys could only nod her head in acceptance. Such was the girl's fate, to toe the line of great power and loss, to boldly stride into certain darkness that lay before them. It only made sense that she be given a powerful name to match the fate that Emrys had cursed her to. As she watched mother and child, queen and princess, fate and fated, the mystic could only wonder what would happen next.

But she didn't have to wait for long.

Weeks later, the Galra arrived.

They had obliterated the village, crushing it to smithereens. Emrys had been away at a lake some odd miles away, and had nearly had a heart attack as the ground beneath her rippled and quaked violently, throwing her from her feet. The air was filled with sirens and screams in the distance, explosions and shattering trees that splintered and fell to the side from the powerful weaponry. It went on for nearly fifteen minutes, then all was silent. Not a bird whistled in the trees. Even the river seemed diminutive, quiet and observant of the casualties that were surely lining the town.

After the world turned silent for almost fifteen minutes Emrys had picked herself up off the ground, snatching her cane and hurrying as fast as she could back to the village. Down the familiar dirt paths she smashed through the bushes and trees, clambering over the fallen trunks as she drew closer and closer to the town. Her chest beat wildly, ears throbbing from the sound of her heart and the blood rushing through them. She had to see for herself, just what had become of their small rural abodes.

When she arrived in the clearing she fell to her knees.

Rubble was all that was left. Wooden houses had been smashed top to bottom, as though some creature had stepped on the structures and left them in the dust. The smell of fire and burned flesh permeated the area, making her gag multiple times as she picked her way through the town. Some of the people lucky enough to have survived began digging through the piles of rocks, wood, and other chaos, trying to reach those who cried out, still alive and buried underneath. Screams, from every direction. Emrys skirted around the edges, trying to determine how many had survived at this point.

A cry.

Stopping cold in her tracks, the blood ran from her face as she frantically looked about for the source. A baby's shrill shrieks came from somewhere in the forest, close to the border of the village. Hobbling along as fast as she could she pushed through the bushes, finally coming to a small woven container near the base of a tree. Desperately opening the lid, purple eyes widened as a familiar child came into view, hands clawing at her cheeks as she wailed. Emrys lifted her out of the basket, cradling her to her chest as she attempted to calm the baby down. Where was Kynthia? Why would she leave her child in such a place?

Questions were no good, but Almira managed to calm down in the mystic's arms, hiccupping with low, moanful tones instead of piercing shrieks. Emrys refused to release the baby, holding on to her even as she walked back into the village. As she directed survivors about the space they often shot strange looks, vague recognition fluttering across their faces as they saw the child. But no one asked questions, minding their own business. Perhaps it was a trait of Fleogans, when they saw something questionable; no one ever seemed to poke their nose unnecessarily into others' business, instead carrying on without any difference. Emrys cared little for their stares, only determined to keep the child alive.

After the bodies had been counted and the survivors had been accounted for, the queen had gone missing. It was a fact that laid a stone in her stomach, a cold knot that settled at the bottom of her gut. Even as the days passed and other missing persons made their appearance, it slowly became more apparent that Kynthia had vanished for good. Even with her heightened senses and use of the quintessence field, Emrys had no such luck finding a trail. She had simply disappeared without a trace.

Eventually the king himself made an appearance, and Almira was handed off to her other parent with much disappointment from the mystic, though she tried not to show it. Even as the baby was passed from her hands into the kings, she couldn't help but feel that her prophecy had begun to wrap their sinister chains around those chubby ankles, dragging her down a dark and winding path. Who knew that nearly a hundred years later, Emrys would be seeing it through.

In the present moment she was sitting in the throne room, in one of the nobles' chairs next to the throne. The bench was empty, as was the rest of the room, the only sounds coming from the gardens outside where the winds rustled the branches of the willow tree behind the throne. The massive open arches allowed the sunlight to stream in, warming the mystic's shoulders as she sat in the cool chamber, awaiting the next person whose brains she wanted to pick.

Memories of the past flowed freely now that she had set eyes on Almira once more. She had not seen the young princess in person since she had left Emrys' arms as a baby, only occasionally seeing her on holograms and news reports. Seeing her in person was nothing like the static images that projected in her humble hut in the seventh crater. She had truly blossomed into a beautiful young woman, the complete and spitting image of her mother. Though lost in spirit by the verdict of her trials, Emrys knew that the light was still there. Almira had not yet given up hope, even if she consciously believed she had. Almira Eos, the exalted goddess of dawn; like her namesake she would pass into darkness only for a moment, simply to rise again with the rosy red dawn that inevitably came around.

Loud footsteps clambered up the steps and raced through the hallway, drawing Emrys' attention. The newly crowned prince jogged through the hallway, attempting to catch his breath as he drew near to the mystic, bowing at the waist as he approached. "Your grace. I apologize-"

"Quite unbecoming for a king to run anywhere, isn't it?" Her sharp tone made him jerk his head up quickly, but her words were softened by the smile on her lips. "Take a seat, your majesty. An old woman like me knows how to wait. The king is the one who waits for no one."

He chuckled sheepishly, walking over to the throne and sitting on the edge in order to properly face his elder. Removing the circlet from his head he placed the object into his lap, fingers tracing over the smooth surface. "What would you speak with me about?"

Emrys folded her hands over the top of her cane, still placed on the ground in front of her. "I came here first and foremost to speak with your sister. Gods knows that she could use a bit of cheer in these times."

The look on Alastrine's face darkened. "I know. I want to speak with her, but with the mess of father's sudden death to clean up and all the transitions…"

"Do not be so disheartened. As a king you must realize that you need to draw lines of what you can and cannot do. Sometimes you will wish to do everything, but physically and mentally your body cannot do such actions. That is the difference between princes and kings."

He nodded in acceptance, although her words did nothing to soothe his fears. "But she is family. Can I not choose family, or my heart?"

Breathing in slowly and sighing, Emrys shook her head. "Your father once said that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. It is solid advice, but I would caution you against taking it to the extremes that your predecessors did."

The warning was clear. Alastrine nodded slowly, mind processing his thoughts as he spoke slowly, articulating his process. "I have many duties that must be performed for the sake of the kingdom, even if I cannot see Almira. But," he paused, "I supposed that it is good that my other brothers will go to see her. They have sent my regards and my concerns, I am certain."

Emrys nodded in agreement, a smile on her lips. "Then there you have it. I have little to teach you or need to advise you, if you continue to think and act so prudently."

"Ma'am, your advice is always welcome. I cannot do this on my own."

"Then you are doubly wise to consider the fact that you cannot rule without assistance. I seem to remember multiple kings who bore the weight of the crown on their own, thinking they were alone in the world."

"Please, will you stay with me a bit more? If you have the time, I'd like to ask some questions."

For a moment visions flashed before her eyes, the images of the previous kings dancing in her sight. Then all that remained with Alastrine, patiently awaiting an answer. Purple eyes softened; in all her years she never held on to hope as much as she did now. For the first time that she could remember, she placed all her hope in this younger generation, the burden of the future seeming to fit perfectly on their shoulders as they stood up against difficulty and trials. She thought of Almira, how the girl now looked to the future with less fear, ferocity in her eyes. Then she considered Alastrine, how he beseeched her for her wisdom, head leveled and brilliance miles away from his predecessors.

Yes, perhaps they had seen the liberation of Fleogas. But Emrys imagined that the rest of the universe would not be far behind.

"Then let us begin."

AN: I am feeling like the equivalent of a rhinestone covered trashcan right now.

Cons: I'm dragging myself through my finals (but hey, I'm almost done!)

Pros: Just found out I got voted by my university's department to graduat ! (apparently the entire department votes about one or two people ever semester to graduate with distinction, and it goes on my transcript to make me look fancy and i get special cords for graduation AND i get recognized at commencement)

After this chapter, I have two more chapters to release. Then we're done! Sweet release! It only took me over a full year, but like cockaroaches, I have truly established myself of incapable of feeling the sweet release of death through nuclear apocalypse.

My question to you all: what character would you like to see more of? Leave a comment or message below; I'm considering adding some more chapters but I'd like your input on this. (writing is collaborative, writing is collaborative, writing is collaborative)