Navahl led Roy to the room he should have woken up in. Once inside, he immediately discarded the rag that meant humiliation and suffering and opened the small wardrobe in the corner of the room. Marth had said that there would be training clothes for him, but he hadn't expected to find numerous sets. He chose a subtle blue tunic and pants a shade darker.

As he pulled the tunic over his head, he decided to ask Navahl something that had been mystifying him since Marth had offered him the deal in the dungeon. Though his features were intense and intimidating, his collected silence and attentive presence were a comfort and Marth seemed to trust him. He would probably have the answers Roy sought.

"Why does the king concern himself so much with me?" Navahl gave him an amused smile and for a moment didn't speak, considering his charge.

"It is mysterious, but Marth has always nurtured unique talent." The man folded his arms, his dark gaze settled on Roy. The boy felt as if Navahl could see everything behind his eyes, could sift through his thoughts at whim. He gave the boy an almost indiscernible smile of approval before he continued. "It was his kindness and care that brought me here to Altea." Roy blinked his surprise and forgot that he was dressing. He had thought that Navahl was the king's caretaker, the way Marth had commanded him, the modest attire, the silent obedience, but it seemed there was much more to their relationship than that. The older man observed Roy's bewilderment with an ambiguous smile. He nodded his head to remind the boy that he was still half-naked before he elaborated.

"Six years ago, Marth and I met in battle." There was a subtle shift in Navahl's expression as he began. His eyes softened, opened and Roy felt as if Navahl was not only telling him a story, but letting him see the very memories of its origin. Though the man spoke few words, the gravity in his low voice relayed the desperate and vicious circumstances under which he had encountered the boy king. "As we fought, he saw past my blades and lowered his own." Roy heard the lingering amazement in his words, remembered his own when those kind eyes had fallen upon him.

"He made me his companion when no one else trusted me." His voice had faded to a graceful whisper. "Like you, he took me under his wing in order to show me the things that I was lacking and helped me to attain them." At the close of his tale, Navahl sealed his eyes up again and became the sharp, calculating man he had been moments before. Roy finished changing in the following silence.

"You hold him in a very high regard."

"The highest. All of my happiness can be laid at the feet of that man."

"But you call him by his first name." Navahl smiled that enigmatic smile of his.

"I would never disrespect my dearest friend on mere ceremony." Roy opened his mouth to object, but found no words came to his aid. "And I think he would like it if you did the same."

Before Roy could protest, the subject of their exchange walked through the door.

"Forgive my delay." The young king seemed rattled upon entering, as if he weren't quite sure what the past few moments had held. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"I want to start your instruction right away, but instead of the armory, I thought it would be better to get you outside. It'll be the training grounds today." As he relayed this news, he brightened considerably. Roy would even venture to say that the king was anxious and eager to teach him.

"You aren't thinking of going alone?" Navahl interjected, incredulity dripping from his every word. "How can you even consider it after last night's incident?"

"I won't draw my knights from their duties or their training for something so trivial." The young king's eyes were stolid. He would not be swayed on this issue and Navahl knew it.

"Then I will accompany you at the very least." It was clear in Navahl's face that he did not consider his safety trivial. Marth's expression softened; his friend's concern was appreciated.

"That won't be necessary, Navahl. Commander Jeigan is on the grounds today and the course is short." Then the young king put on a sly and mischievous grin. "And I wouldn't want you to neglect your responsibilities toward Ellis."

Roy was surprised to see a stubborn flush overtake Navahl's cheeks. He had only seen him lose his composure in the interest of the king's safety, and never had his face reddened so. The older man quickly regained control, though Roy saw his touch pass briefly over a slim white band around his middle finger before he spoke.

"Very well, but I won't forgive you if something does go awry." Navahl flashed a sharp look of warning at his sovereign before taking his leave. Marth responded with his own knowing gaze, but it was gone by the time his eyes fell upon Roy.

"Shall we?"

Marth led him to the castle stables, which were much larger than he anticipated. Where he had expected to find a few private horses carefully kept, he saw two long rows of stalls and a throng of Altean knights moving about them.

"Altea's cavalry unit." Marth explained. "Each knight is ultimately responsible for the care of his animal, but we do employ aspiring knights as stable boys, among other things, until they are fifteen and old enough to join the ranks." As he said this, he signaled one of the older boys. Almost instantly, the boy was bowing before them, awaiting his orders. "Two horses."

"Right away, sir!" The boy slipped skillfully through the sea of bodies, and returned quickly, leading the requested steeds as he did. He handed off their lead ropes to Marth and Roy with another swift bow.

The two of them led their horses out of the stables and Marth noted Roy's competence with riding. The boy seemed as comfortable atop the mare as he had handling a sword. He might have been military, but his young age belied his experience. The more he learned about the boy, the less he felt he knew.

Marth kept their pace slow on the way to the training grounds. In their short time together, they hadn't had much chance to talk and he decided that the short trek would be a perfect opportunity.

Roy saw it as such as well and decided to test his standing with the king. If what Navahl had said was true, he wouldn't be scolded for speaking to him without formality, but if what the leader had said was true, he would be flayed for his insubordination.

"…Marth?"

"Yes?"

Shit.

What now? He hadn't been reprimanded; in fact, Marth looked genuinely interested in what he had to say, but Roy didn't actually have a question prepared for the king, so he asked the first thing that came to his mind.

"…eh…who's Ellis?" Whatever Marth had been expecting, it hadn't been that, and it was apparent in his startled expression.

"Ellis is my sister. I'm sure you remember her; she was in the dungeon with us last night." Roy did remember her. She was slight and quietly beautiful, her long wavy hair the same rich azure blue as her brother's. Her eyes were kind. "She is also an ice user."

Another ice user. There had been none of those among the leader's men, and when Roy had chided them for it, they had beat into him that ice users were the rarest in the world because they were too weak to survive among the other users. He was curious about her.

"Navahl is her caretaker?" Roy recalled how willingly the man had left Marth's side in favor of the girl, despite his constant preoccupancy with the safety of his sovereign. The young king smirked to himself.

"You might say that." His light tone suggested that Navahl was much more to Ellis than her caretaker. "For as long as I've known him, Navahl has been smitten with her and very devoted to the well-being of the Lowell family."

"But you didn't let him accompany us today."

"No." A shadow passed over Marth's handsome features. "I wanted you alone. We need to talk about what happened."

Roy was reluctant to confess his humiliating experience with the leader and his minions. He didn't want Marth to see the worst of him, but he deserved to know.

Even so, he decided to test these dangerous waters first.

"My mother isn't ill." The king nodded solemnly, he had guessed as much. His muted reaction to this confession encouraged Roy to continue. "The same men who poisoned me are forcing her into submission with some other substance. I don't know what it is and I don't know why they're keeping her." As he spoke, Roy's voice trembled with his rage and frustration. He had thought they were only using her to control him, but even when they had left him for dead, they took her. "They are the silent rulers of Altea."

Marth jerked his mare to a halt.

Roy slowed his own mount and stopped beside his bewildered companion. According to the leader, Marth knew all about his undertakings and was too weak to stop him. But he had no idea.

"What? How could I not..?" Roy could feel the helplessness and disbelief roiling inside the young king. This wouldn't be easy on him.

"The leader is stealthy, paranoid. He never uses the same safehouse for more than a few days at a time. Even his minions rotate through the inns on a weekly basis. They have half the city in a terror and the other in their pocket."

"How many are there?"

"I couldn't say for sure; I was always kept in the safehouses with my mother." Roy shuddered at the memory of those safehouses. They had been dark places of torture and rage, vulnerability and degradation. "I know almost nothing about who they are or why they are so begrudged against Altea. I only know that they have done everything they can to undermine the peace and order of this city, perhaps others."

"Could you tell me where the safehouses are?" Marth's eyes were predatory. He wanted to put metal and ice through the flesh of his enemies.

Roy shook his head, cursing his own worthlessness. For all the time he had spent in those dank prisons, he didn't even know where they were. "Only the one you found me in."

"Just the one?"

"Whenever they moved to a different safehouse, I was bound and blindfolded. Last night was the first time I'd been outside without them. I was the only one they would risk sending."

"To kill me." Marth's expression was blank as he said this. His flat tone unnerved Roy. Yes, as royalty, his life was constantly forfeit to the course of history, but this detached acceptance of death made the weight of his position too clear.

"If I had to." Roy turned away from his companion, his voice dropping to a whisper. He didn't want to dwell on that possibility, that everything they had told him about this world was true, that there was no hope for Altea after all. "But I wasn't after your life; I was after you sword."

"Falchion?"

"Mm. The leader was desperate for it." Marth furrowed his brows thoughtfully and lightly spurred a heel into the side of his mount, urging her forward. Roy followed suit, continuing his tale. "He was so furious with me for returning empty-handed that… well… he killed me." The younger boy shrugged his shoulders with his last three words.

They rode in silence while Marth mentally reviewed the fire user's tale. He didn't doubt its validity; the previous night's events confirmed it. These terrorists would have to be dealt with, but as much as he wanted to storm Altea's inns and cut each of them down himself, he knew that this matter required more delicacy. His real adversary, this leader, was resourceful and elusive and would not be overthrown with force alone. He needed more information.

"Do you know what they used to poison you?" Surely something so potent and peculiar would hold some answer to their identity, but Roy shook his head.

"I only know that it was developed recently, but there is a good chance that it shares some qualities with their signature narcotic: Dragon Blood."

Marth started.

"Dragon Blood?"

"It's named for its color and the powerful vice it has over its user. They're using it to control the citizens of Altea."

When it came to things of such a sinister nature, Marth didn't believe in coincidence, but it simply couldn't be dragon blood. So many years ago, Anri Lowell had slain the last dragon with the very sword Marth carried by his side.

Either these men had managed to produce a remarkable dragon blood equivalent or there was something much more ominous happening in Altea. He could only pray it was the former.

As the two boys approached the edge of the training grounds, the ice user asked one last question.

"Have you ever tried Dragon Blood?"

Marth heard Roy's breath catch in his throat. The boy faltered.

"No, I haven't."