The Eternal Dance of Light and Dark

by The King of Ravens

Having just survived a nine year long civil war, those of Lucael would be forgiven for entertaining the notion of peace. However, new threats are rising, and as the son of the king, it is Caiellis's job to combat them, despite his youth. But as the leaders of a rival nation declare war and mysterious figures pull strings in the shadows, Cai will be drawn into the fate of the world.

22. Broken Glass

"What? We're under attack? How do you know?" Jenna fired off the questions one by one, and although she didn't doubt the prince's words the perceptive Blue spells that she employed specifically to detect potential enemies weren't showing anything – she knew how inhospitable the abyss was when her and Annia's favourite uncle had once led a research expedition (unbeknownst to the Kingdom of Light, as there was no way Lucael would authorise it) but never returned. The only thing that had been transmitted back to the research base was the team being torn apart by nameless horrors, and although their mother had carried Annia and Jenna out of the room she could still sometimes hear their screams in her sleep, and she was pretty sure her five years younger sister had been too young to remember. That was what had motivated her to – ok, don't think about that. I need to focus on the current situation.

Caiellis just shrugged, and though his posture didn't seem like one that was about to be thrown into a battle, his eyes conveyed the intensity of his urgency, "I can't explain it. This has happened before, though, and I have a one hundred percent accuracy rate so I'm quite certain. I can't detect them with my mana yet, but one tactic the forces of Johnias often used was the Cover of Night, whereby they concealed their presence in the realm of sense," he explained, and Jenna nodded.

The prince had seemed depressed earlier, but all traces of that had gone, replaced by the brusque warrior she was now talking to. Mysos, overhearing their conversation, also got up out of his seat, and followed Cai to where the boy was walking over to the amplification device on the wall of the carriage. Attacks on the trains had been extremely common during the war, which is why the building of them had taken so long, but after the final battle outside of Cassida Principia there had been no more attacks.

However, that had only been a single month ago, so the ever opportunistic servants of Johnias had evidently decided that now was the time to start again. He was immensely glad that the train was purely for royal purposes, and as such was filled either with military or advising personnel instead of civilians. That meant that, as well as the trained soldiers that were present on every train, Cai had quite a good fighting force at his disposal, although it may prove to be inadequate. Caiellis wondered if those assaulting the train knew that he was an occupant, or if it was a military journey – hopefully not, as that would give him the element of surprise and might mean whatever forces were arrayed against him weren't huge.

He reached the amplification device and turned it on, gulping nervously before putting his mouth to the microphone – if he was wrong about this, he would look like a complete idiot, but much worse than the personal embarrassment would be shaming himself as a Lucerna.

"Do not be alarmed," he started, hearing his own shaky voice played after a short delay, mentally cursing at how young and inexperienced he sounded and how stupid the words he had just spoken were – most, if not all of those on this train had been trained for war, so of course they would not be alarmed. He took a deep breath, ensuring that his voice was much more confident and self-assured this time around. "But I have detected enemies coming to attack. I cannot yet ascertain their nature, nor the size of their force, but I am certain. Expect to receive further orders once I have. Ave lux."

He turned off the amplifier, trying not to let anyone notice his hands shaking and finding it slightly paradoxical that he was perfectly fine with violence yet public speaking made him feel anxious. Cai turned to look at one of the train attendants, commanding, "Open the door." The man swiftly did as he was told, though if the one ordering him hadn't been a Lucerna then he would have questioned the strange instruction. Caiellis activated the seemingly much more useful than its counterpart Lens of Guilt, his left eye filling with inky darkness as he looked out into the night, the high speed of the train sending air blowing at him that would have knocked to boy off his feet if he hadn't been anticipating it. He heard a sharp intake of breath when one of the soldiers must have seen him, sensing the Black mana their liege was utilising, but he hoped that they could also perceive that it came without ill will directed towards them.

The interior of the train became pitch black, just like what he could see outside, though after a few seconds the youngest Lucerna began to see faint contrails of red, and the second he noticed them they pulsed vividly and lashed violently forwards, as if responding to his scrutiny although he knew that not to be true. The tendrils of scarlet arced across the blackness, and extrapolated that they would intersect the train's position in a few minutes' time. The force was sizeable, probably outnumbering his own, and a nimbus of crimson played around someone, or something, at the centre, a power level matching that of a Light-bearer from what he could tell, though twisted by evil intent and as such showing up in Guilt. The boy recognised the familiar pattern of a Sancturia demon, though it was significantly different to Ershun's Azarklak. The prince smiled, though the expression was completely bereft of warmth – he was reasonably sanguine that the warriors he had at his disposal could take on the enemies, and that left him to deal with the leader, the identity of which was unknown but as the foes approached Caiellis became certain that he or she was a traitorous Light-bearer.

The Dark-bearers, as Tybalt had once mockingly called them, were very powerful, having traded away their previous White Summonings for greater demons. This potentially made them more potent than their loyal equivalents, though a lot less consistent. However there were only four out of the six that had defected left, Cai's father having single-handedly killed two of them, those from Epulaeous, City of Nourishment, with his own First Sisterhood angel, and though the boy knew he was nowhere near as strong as his dad the enemy presented to him would be a perfect challenge, should he be inclined to view it in that way – Caiellis preferred the think of Johnias and his compatriots as traitorous scum that didn't deserve to live on this planet.

"Mysos," he spoke the older boy's name, his voice already suffused with resonance as he began channelling magical energy in preparation for the fight, though not to the extent to notify the enemies, "The amplifier, please."

"Yes lord," he replied solemnly, and Cai would be glad to have him and Iridis at his side in the coming engagement, as a Second Sisterhood angel could easily turn the tide of battle. That reminded him – his "personal" bodyguards could also access formidable creatures of White, and one could also Summon an angel, a daughter of Razia, the other First Sisterhood being that used White and Red. Ruthia, if he remembered her name correctly, was on the way to becoming a Guardian or general, and her secondment to the royal praetorians was to give the young woman more experience and a way to serve to Lucerna line by Oleic, Civitas Sol Guardian and her teacher. Cai idly mused whether she had inherited the man's clear dislike of the smallest prince, but if she had done Ruthia didn't show it.

"Our enemies outnumber us, though only by a slight margin. They are using the night to conceal themselves, which is why we cannot detect their mana presence, but I am quite confident they are led by a Fallen Light-bearer. I will engage them eventually, while the rest of you deal with the others. But for now, continue on our current course," he spoke softly, though the tone was filled with determination – Cai found that now others' lives were at stake, he no longer felt as nervous about speaking to lots of people, his subconscious processing that it was necessary for him to suck it up to save other people.

"Should we not stop the train, or get out and attack them?" one of his guards asked, and Caiellis resolved to learn each of their names and individual personalities, strengths and maybe weaknesses after this battle was done – if they survived – because he didn't know who was speaking. The boy activated the Lens of Innocence also, so that he could view the room and look at the man, and then responded, "No, we keep going. Currently, we shouldn't know that they are attacking, so if we start acting suspicious they may call the assault off or change their tactics to better anticipate who is on this train. We have the element of surprise on our side, and this advantage should be preserved as long as possible. And we will fight outside the train to avoid damage, but we will disembark when they are close to us and we can spring the trap. We need to be patient if we are to win this battle with the least casualties possible. I can hold them off while you quickly Summon, then you can do the same for me."

Now that he was in command of soldiers for the first time ever, the lessons that Tybalt and Tristram had taught him and he had ingrained deep into his mind were flowing to the surface, interacting with his strategic penchant. He felt an emotional detachment, although knew that would soon change when he came face to face with the Fallen, the betrayers that had helped tear his and Alexander's young lives apart, kill their mother and consign their father to grief and self-loathing, though for now he pushed the hatred down. He wondered what impression he was giving off to his men – had Alex or their dad been in command, they would have probably alighted from the train and gone to face that corrupted army in combat, whereas Cai was luring them in and patiently for the best time to strike.

"Turn of the lights in the carriage," he instructed, and the attendant complied, pulling on a panel and pitching the room into darkness, though Caiellis's right eye illuminated the things that he looked at in a very weak glow. He had done that in order to avoid the servants of Johnias seeing the lights beaming out of the open door, as each other window was shuttered to prevent light from getting out and attracting the Unbound inhabitants of the abyss. Nevertheless, he still needed to door open to track the movements of the enemies, though the picture shown to him through the Lens of Guilt was confusing and at points contradictory, showing the vein-like lines of red looping back on each other or going in a completely different direction.

Then, a sudden thought occurred to him, and he cursed his stupidity. He drew the Sword of Glass, but ensured that only the pulsing tenebrosity was present by suppressing the White mana to the centre, and ignored the others' gasps of shock as he stood up on a table that could easily hold his weight and cut through the ceiling, the artefact armament effortlessly slicing through the thick metal as the square clanged on the floor. The prince paid no attention to the voices, one from Mysos and another from a member of his bodyguard, and leapt upwards, clambering onto the exterior of the train but keeping low to the ground to prevent being blown off, as despite the fact that he could use his wings of stained glass to propel him back on doing so would be utterly contrary to what he wanted to achieve.

He turned off the physical Lens of Innocence, quashing the nausea that rose up unbidden within him at the disconcerting sensation of not being able to see anything underneath him as the fast movement blew air over him, and looked further down onto the enemies he could see approaching through Guilt, their malicious intent stark against the dark background. Cai slowly and carefully swivelled his head to the side, hearing Mysos shout him again but not able to understand the words over the rush of freezing air, and looked at the other side of the train, the expanse of shadow that he had been unable to see.

Caiellis almost sighed with relief when he couldn't see anything on that side, suggesting that his instincts to look at the side with the door had been correct. The youth snarled in irritation when a strong hand encircled his thin ankle and dragged him back down into the interior of the carriage. The second he re-entered, Cai reactivated the Lens of Innocence so that he could actually see. He glared balefully at the face of the praetorian, Drax Gloria, older brother of the Scholaria Magnus teacher Alissa Gloria that had fought by the side of the king during the civil war, the relatively young man around the same age as Uncle Tristram. He was lucky to have Drax at his side, but was annoyed that the man had taken it upon himself to pull the littlest Lucerna down instead of waiting for him.

He was looking forward to seeing the warrior's Summoning in action, as Drax was one of the most accomplished fighters in the kingdom and received a chance of becoming part of the Lucerna guard at the young age of sixteen because of this, though he would have never been able to progress in the army otherwise because of his lack of leadership skills and strategic knowledge. The man looked patiently back at him, and Caiellis backed down instead of snapping, turning his gaze back to the progression of the crimson lines that signified their enemies. He opened his hand, about to ask for the amplifier before Mysos gave it to him prior to the prince speaking.

"Not that long to go now. Be ready to stop on my command," he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, the speed of the rhythm heightened because of the prospect of imminent violence. Caiellis was happy the train was small, only three carriages, two of which were for passengers and the other one was for the drivers and mana-engines, as that meant his own troops wouldn't be disparate and spread out. The enemy force was relatively small, the Fallen general likely thinking that with their demonic might they could easily overwhelm the train.

"Thirty seconds," he said softly, though the tone was filled with resolution. He could hear several members of the compartment finishing their pre-battle prayers, and wondered if he should have recited one over the communication, but the soldiers were very elite and so would have trouble inspiring themselves. Caiellis focussed his gaze on the nimbus of arterial red that represented the main heretic against them, slowly raising the barriers that he had placed upon his hatred and gradually allowing the Black mana to well up more inside of him. He smiled grimly, realising that he would possibly be able to Summon Orzhova in that method when he established the Light-bearer's identity.

"Fifteen seconds, get ready to stop the train," he intoned, his eyes flicking over to where Jenna looked noticeably more pale, though she held herself quite confidently. Dragging a Yentarian researcher into an internal conflict would not be good, especially since Lucael hadn't yet revealed anything about the civil war to outsiders, maintaining the illusion – or was it still the reality? - of strength, and so by extension Jenna wouldn't know who the attackers were, though she would be aware of how dangerous the abyss was. Oh well. Exposing her to the violence of the conflict between the heretical traitors and the forces of the king wasn't anything near ideal, but there was nothing to be done about it and the fact that they had a foreign Summoning available would be unexpected, but maybe not so much as the darkest of First Sisterhood angels, though ironically (or perhaps not) Orzhova despised the traitors as much as he did for the murder of Serenity, the only angel of the pinnacle of the hierarchy to be traded for a demon and the only one Cai knew for certain had properly died.

"Stop the train! Ave lux!" he shouted, and although the battle cry was a bit force it carried his detestation of their foes in it, and was replied by many others devoted to the protection of the kingdom and its royal family. Caiellis instantaneously enchanted himself with his favoured wings of crystal-esque stained glass and jumped out of the train, the Black Sun birthmark on his cheek shining with immense amounts of luminosity, and conjured up a huge beam of light that he swept across the locations of the enemies. Though it only killed a few, charring their corpses in holy immolation, the pillar of radiance erased the shadowy dark magic that the foes were using to hide themselves, allowing all of Cai's men to detect them as well as see them.

His eyes fixed on the tall, almost monstrously muscled but still somehow lean figure that was clad in spiked black armour, a very large and brutal battle axe the corrupted sibling to Uncle Tristram's own weapon in his midnight gauntlets. The man sneered up at the prince, half his face torn away in a grotesque battle scar that he had sustained from the father of Mysos, Xathan's energised broadsword carving his face apart in the horrific battle for Cassida Principia.

That had been seven years ago, and Cai sensed Mysos's itching desire to meet the Fallen in single combat and avenge the ruination of his city (Cassida Principia had taken the second most casualties after Gol), but that wasn't the plan and Caiellis wasn't going to deviate just because of one person's desire for vengeance. The youngest Lucerna had only seen Garod Morr, former Guardian of Crescia, City of Commerce and last of the dark bastions to fall to his father's wrath, three times before - once when he had been three and wandered into Marik chastising the man for his recklessness in leading his army against Welkalite forces and slaughtering the opposing army instead of offering forgiveness, also leaving his own force that could have been picked apart if not for the resourcefulness of his seconds in command in favour of duelling the enemy general, then just after that when he had ruffled the youngest prince's hair and winked at him as he hid behind his father's leg when Marik was seeing the man out of the palace. The next time he saw him was three years later than that when the Fallen Guardian had abandoned the battle outside the City of Swords to hunt down the fleeing Lucerna youths and their protectors, but had been intercepted by Guardian Xathan who had left the Hierarchs to lead the armies against one another.

Garod had been a general with a predilection towards brutality even before his betrayal, and the fall into darkness had turned him into a sadistic and savage murdered, wont to displaying the trophies taken from those he had slain like some sort of Erian barbarian, though the act was made even more sickening by the fact that the bones were of human origin. His single working eye was a baleful orb of blue and black that glared at the prince, the other a milky sphere of pooled blackness quite similar to Cai's Lens of Guilt, though the dark was more grey and less intense, and peeked out from behind dirty brown hair that cascaded down half his head and back – Caiellis recalled the man taking great pride in his long hair, a cut generally not favoured by military personnel because of its relative impracticality, but the wound he had sustained from Xathan must have burnt it off.

Caiellis slammed down amidst the soldiers of Johnias, the rabble at the front barely-human scouts that had been gifted with several animal mutations that augmented their tracking ability and speed, arcing his sword into one of them. The man shrieked as he was cleaved cleanly in half, the bisected pieces of his body falling away as Cai swept his weapon around, darting back from an aerial strike of the huge bat one of them had Summoned. The creature belched noxious purple smoke at him that ignited when he blasted White mana into it, overwhelming the bat in a detonation of light that left the other members of the scout squad dazed. The forces of Garod had been split into roughly two halves of completely alternate power levels – the scouts were corrupt civilians, or those wretches that had eked out a pitiful living in the abyss before being recruited during the civil war, and basically chaff to throw at the phalanxes of legionaries to cause confusion or a delay, whereas the ones that ran with the Fallen Guardian were soldiers, trained veterans of the civil war that had been schooled in the same manner as their loyal opposites, albeit adorned by sigils of darkness that defaced the once pure and honourable Lucaelian iconography.

Cai let the hatred in his mind explode out, globules of darkness mixing with the remains of the radiant explosion and flying into the other scouts, the White and Black mana instantly sapping the life from their bodies and infusing the Lucerna with their life force, returning to him as shimmering particles of gold. That had been easy, and if he hadn't of ambushed the scouts then they would have been much more formidable.

However, the real battle was only just beginning, and Summoners on both sides were concluding their rituals, the denizens of Sancturia entering the material plane to do battle in the age old war between Black and White that was carried over by humans. A lumbering, necrotic undead giant that must have been reanimated and enslaved by a demon or other influential Black lord in the other realm, pieces of decayed flesh sloughing off as it shambled towards the Lucaelians, its footfalls shaking the ground. Drax's Summoning emerged from a blazing portal of holy White mana, a hooded figure armoured in intricate and interlocking silver plates mounted upon a shining pegasus that had horns of elegant bone.

The archon raised his longsword to the sky, just as it was joined by two Second Sisterhood angels, Iridis silently elevating her own blade as a rush of holy flames signalled the entrance of Ethé, daughter of Razia and of the Firemane. The angel had the majestic white wings derived from the Archangel of Purity herself, with a much smaller pair emerging from her waist. She carried an elegant sword and shield, and was armoured in a material made from a burnished red metal, though the exotic blade of her weapon was perfect silver. A helm of a similar shape to Aurelia's adorned her head, though it was also scarlet and more conical, and Ethé held herself with the more aloof bearing of Razia's daughters that Aurelia had once told Alexander about, and the middle Lucerna had shared that with his little brother, knowing the boy's fascination with the angels and Sancturia.

However, although Caiellis thought he may have quality on his side, her certainly didn't have quantity – counting himself, he only had around thirty troops, whilst Garod seemed to have over twice that number even with the scouts annihilated, the Lens of Guilt showing him a grossly disproportionate number of enemies, though perhaps he had been distracted by the main focus of the negative energy and that had distorted his perception. A clawed and horned horror pulled itself up from the ground, as another undead giant entered the world, this one armoured in midnight steel and glaring menacingly out of purple flames billowing from its exposed chest. Jenna stood behind the boy, her own Ciewan regarding the foes with undisguised curiosity.

Garod Morr looked directly at the prince, and beckoned him forwards, challenging the boy to a duel, and Cai almost laughed. How blinded, or stupid, did the man think he was? The Guardian was far superior to him in close quarter combat, and much stronger than he was physically – that coupled with the fact that he had analysed some of the man's victories and knew that he much preferred – no, excelled almost exclusively in - fast engagements as opposed to a long, drawn out battle, made Caiellis very reluctant to accept the challenge. He hoped that none of his men would think he was a coward because of it – Cai was intending to kill Garod, but he would do so when the time was right instead of rushing blindly into combat. The Fallen made a pouting face at him, and turned to one of his lieutenants, the one who was controlling a large cloud of billowing smog that roiled across the darkness, casually sidestepping a bolt of darklight the prince blasted in his direction as it drained the existence from a man behind him.

"For the light! For the king! For Prince Caiellis!" Drax shouted, launching himself into battle with his archon at his side and diverting a large amount of attention towards himself. Garod raised an eyebrow at Cai, as if pretending the boy was still three years old, just as his lieutenant intercepted the praetorian, the man's elemental of pollution and smog surrounding the archon as it flew straight through.

Just as the battle lines were about to clash, and Caiellis sensed a huge rise in mana from the Fallen Guardian, he let his full force of hatred spill out him, coursing through his veins and pouring out of him, wrapping his right side in night as his birthmark shone with unholy resonance, his abhorrence of his current foe overcoming all other thoughts as it mixed with the familiar feelings of his mother's death, the demonic claws plunging through her chest and stomach as she coughed up blood before a horrified Caiellis, the four year old screaming in agony no one his age should ever have to feel. He then moulded his desire for vengeance into one wanting holy retribution, coils of golden incandescence pulsing in time with the tendrils of hatred and bonding with each other, swirling around the young prince in a maelstrom of opposite energies.

Shining tears dripped down his cheeks, mixing with the Black Sun in a coruscating display, and underneath his hatred and desire to kill Garod Morr Cai was intrigued to see how Orzhova would turn it as this would be the first time he conjured the negative before the positive. The dark star formed above the birthmark depicting it, and the prince infused it with a tremendous amount of mana at an extremely fast rate, the hymns commencing and rising to a crescendo within a few seconds, though this time a child's sing-song voice could be heard singing the words, completely out of tune with the rest of the voices.

Caiellis drew Orzhova's scythe into the air out of shadow substance, and coated it in golden White mana just as the angel's hand reached out and gripped it, the sphere of unlight dissolving into her and forming her shape. Orzhova's face was twisted in loathing, and dark purple lightning crackled around her, making the Angel of the Black Sun look far more terrifying. He saw Garod's single responsive eye open wide in equal amounts amusement and shock, just as the man dragged one of his soldiers over and, wielding his huge axe one-handed, slammed the blade into him, crushing the traitor to a bloody pulp as it hacked through him.

As the blood sprayed out into the air, the Fallen Guardian swept his other hand through it, his fist already coated in a shroud of darkness and ash as it mixed with the particles of crimson vitae that seemed to be attracted towards it, as the corpse of the soldier detonated in an expulsion of blood, bone and vital organs, and a portal into the dark heart of Sancturia was opened from the ruin of the corpse. Caiellis heard Orzhova snarl as a greater demon was Summoned into reality, idly registering that the dark angel hadn't greeted him with her customary sarcastic or approving comment, and that the seraph's dark eyes were not glinting in their usual manner, reminding him more of the portrayal of her by the history books than the Orzhova he had come to know.

"You Summoned me using hatred as the predominant medium," she snapped condescendingly down at him, although the annoyance wasn't aimed at him, "What did you expect?"

Garod was laughing now, a brutal and sadistic noise that was echoed by a much more malevolent and otherworldly voice not belonging to the former Guardian, though Cai was not fazed. The laughter in his own mind had been much more terrifying. A footstep cracked the ground, the hoof of the demon connected to a backwards-jointed leg much more reminiscent of an animal than a humanoid demon. Then it was followed by a maliciously clawed hand that ripped the portal further open, exposing a forearm protected by segmented and spiked plates that seemed be former from the demon's own skin judging from how there was no overlap on the bare bicep, which was lean like an animals.

The demon roared as it pulled itself into the material plane, revealing a vicious head nestled in a sea of serrated black plates. The being's head was large, and it leered bloodthirstily at the First Sisterhood angel with rows of gleaming white teeth, its small black eyes singling out Orzhova with predatory intent, and hugely oversized curling horns rose up from its head. Its skin was a pale, dirty brown colour, and it held a huge but surprisingly elegant sword of bare steel in its right hand, the blade clean of evil symbols though Cai knew it would soon be dripping with blood.

"Meet Vaikadar, Harvester of Souls!" Garod announced maniacally, as the demon glared at him for a second and then turned to Caiellis, the atavistic need to kill the only thing he could glean from its black pearl eyes.

It loped straight towards him, ignoring the wider battle – that Caiellis's soldiers seemed to be winning, Garod's force better equipped for a fast ambush than a pitched engagement, though he knew Morr had often been admonished for they way he abandoned his army in pursuit of personal goals such as the enemy's leaders. Cai was happy to indulge now that he had Summoned and was confident his army could handle to other forces – when the ambush had been sprung, if he had been Garod then he would have made a tactical retreat and attacked a different train, but the man's hunger for the glory he would gain from his dark patrons by killing a Lucerna had evidently eclipsed his strategic and rational thoughts. What an idiot.

"I'm going to enjoy tearing you apart, my prince!" Garod roared mockingly, charging towards the boy, his limbs augmented by shadowy energy that made the man run much faster in the abyss, almost catching Caiellis off guard with his sudden speed. The boy rolled back as the axe cleaved apart the space he had been stood, Orzhova's golden scythe intercepting a second strike and sending the man back with a pulsing blast of blinding light. The demon then leapt at the angel, his sword pulsating with blood that suddenly poured out of it, slicing into defensive enchantments the dark angel just managed to create and shattering them apart.

"I will make you pay, wench!" it growled, a reflection of Morr's threat to the littlest Lucerna, and grabbed at Orzhova with its left hand – the angel battered it away with her scythe and took to the air, bombarding the beast with alternating rays of light and shadow that it blocked on a large shard of bone that grew out of its wrist in a sickening extension of bone. Orzhova arced her scythe around to a horizontal position in front of her, golden characters spilling out of her outstretched left palm and beginning to form words, though their meaning was alien to her Summoner as the letters were not of human origin. He had no time to concentrate on what his Summoning was doing as Garod swung another attack at him, which he blocked with his Sword of Glass. Cai grimaced at the astounding strength behind the blow, swiftly disengaging in a spray of sparks as the axe crashed into the spot he had been in, then quickly whipping back around and at him.

Caiellis darted backwards and flung chains of gloom at the man, who sneered and batted them away, "Children shouldn't be messing with forces far beyond their control," he insulted, as Cai glared in hatred and let out a ray of purest shadow that lanced into the man, eliciting a grunt of pain. Even though the shadow pierced straight through Garod, the Fallen Guardian seemed unconcerned, as demonic gifts repaired his skin with their unnatural vitality.

"And children should not be going to war," he spat, and would have grinned wolfishly if he could manage any other expression, "Yet here I am, fighting in a war against darkness because of you and Johnias. You were so damn blind, to think that your betrayal could ever prevail against the might of Lucael."

"Were we? We almost succeeded in toppling your father," Garod bellowed, swinging his axe at the prince whilst reaching out for his throat with his left hand. Cai jumped over the blade, and as the gauntleted fingers brushed against his neck he hacked the arm off at the elbow, the holy magic infusing his Sword of Glass sizzling as it destroyed corrupted flesh. He then blasted a wall of light out of his left hand, sending the Fallen Guardian tumbling backwards.

Meanwhile, Orzhova's ritual was coming to a close, as thousands of words filled the air, some dark sigils of vindictive intent whilst others were luminous declarations of justice, etching themselves into the night and overlaying on top of each other. The dark angel rotated her scythe to a vertical angle, and slammed the bottom of it into the ground, sending a reverberating wave throughout the entire battlefield, as both types of words combined with each other and began to flow through the loyalist Lucaelians, empowering them with armour of White mana that guarded them with ethereal protection made from scintillating layers of shining glass, as dripping tenebrosity ensorcelled their weapons, though Caiellis wasn't entirely sure his men would appreciate that.

"Your magic will not help at all, Orzhova!" the demon shrieked at her, grabbing hold of a nearby soldier and detonating his body through the usage of dark magic, contrails of shadow bursting out of the howling traitor as shards of bone ripped from him and launched themselves at the dark seraph, leaving the man's body a formless mess of flesh. As the man died, his life force pulled out of him and circled round the cauterized stump of Garod's left arm, a fresh new limb regenerating and bursting free from it. The man flexed the new hand, the skin crimson and wet with blood, and grinned at Caiellis, who concealed his shock.

The Sword of Glass was supposed to prevent regeneration, the wounds inflicted by it unable to be healed, but here Garod was with a completely new arm. That dramatically ruined up Caiellis's battle plan, as he had been planning to degrade the Fallen Guardian's strength in a war of attrition and then deal the finishing blow when the man would be too weak to respond, but this meant he had to play in Garod's game of one strike deciding the outcome of the entire duel, which was something he disliked quite a bit. The much-stronger man was the perfect executioner, a terrifying butcher with no need to think about his own safety and the lack of empathy required to sacrifice his own troops, and Cai found it hard to imagine Garod Morr as an emissary of loyalist Lucael despite having seen him in that way, though that instance had been ten years ago. Actually, the regenerative powers of Garod sparked a thought in his mind – why then, had Morr not rejuvenated the part of his face that had been torn apart by Xathan's broadsword? Was there a specific type of magic required to counter the Fallen Guardian's specialised physical reconstruction?

"You are probably wondering why, if I can repair my body so easily, do I leave my face like it is?" Garod sneered, lashing forward with his axe, the edge coated in venomous darkness that would no doubt kill Cai's fragile body the second it entered his bloodstream, and the prince somersaulted away from him, leaping into the air with the Gift of Orzhova and glaring down at the Guardian from his aerial vantage point, not wasting his mana by blindly firing at his opponent when the traitor could just nullify the damage, instead turning the spells inwards and healing himself even though the boy was perfectly fine – it would give him even more life, maybe allowing him to withstand Morr's strikes. "I want to keep the wounds until I can kill Xathan, hack him apart with my axe and feel his warm blood splatter onto me," he smiled maliciously, and Caiellis could see his champion visibly tensing as he listened in on the conversation whilst fighting against the enemy Summoner controlling the darkfire giant, and the boy almost thought the older adolescent would disobey his commands and enter the combat with the Fallen Light-bearer, which would have been a fatal mistake, but luckily Mysos was too concerned by the implications of defying his prince then extracting his own vengeance – Cai made a mental note that should he ever fight against Uliea Chrysos, former Hierarch of the City of Commerce, then he would let Mysos kill the woman if he was strong enough.

"Until then, I will remain scarred as a reminder of the only duel I have ever lost, though killing the man's son after I finish with you will be almost as sweet," he spat, jumping into the air with his own shadowy wings and attacking with another series of blistering strikes that left Cai hard pressed to avoid, as he just twisted out of the way of a cleaving blow and his one of his wings was shattered. The prince tumbled to the ground, rolling frantically out of the way as Garod crashed down beside him. He flipped to his feet and dodged another arcing strike, conjuring up another pair of wings. The Guardian growled, a pulse of destructive Black mana breaking apart the stained glass. He paced forwards menacingly, snarling: "Stop trying to delay! There is no way you can hurt me without killing me in a single blow, my liege!"

"A single strike is all it will take," Cai responded calmly, slightly savouring the Fallen's expression of incredulity and shock as Orzhova knocked the opposing greater demon away from her and gifted Caiellis with a huge amount of mana – whilst Garod had been too distracted by his hunger to kill the youngest Lucerna, Cai had been carefully calculating their positions in the fight, precisely controlling it so that they were in the perfect place for his coup de grâce. He pointed his artefact armament to the sky, the sword glowing with purple light as the same colour of lightning fulminated through it, as his Summoning raised the golden chain in her free hand, the amulet emitting the same purple light as Caiellis's blade.

The remnants of the two pairs of smashed stained glass wings levitated into the air, the shards firing upwards and joined by more that started to form something huge above the Fallen Guardian, who tried to rush the prince as a ghostly pillory appeared around him, restricting his movements as he tried desperately to remove it. A gigantic representation of the stained glass image of the Black Sun in Caiellis's abandoned mind cathedral was created from the shards of glass, shining down onto the man with a baleful light that slowly sucked the life out of him. Garod broke free of the restraints and screamed as the vitality was drained from him, and then started laughing. The Guardian went into hysterics as he realised he wasn't dead, and even with the ritual above him sapping his life essence from the man his unnatural replenishing powers healed him at a rate far faster than the damage was done.

"What did I tell you, boy? Only one single attack can kill me! This barely tickles!" he burst out in giggles at Cai's shocked expression, before snapping into a battle pose and hefting his axe, "You're going to pay dearly for that mistake." He began to charge, and Caiellis smiled, spinning the Sword of Glass around so that its tip was almost touching the ground, and as the rays of deathly light from the sun above hit Garod, they reflected straight into his weapon, forming a perfect image of Garod Morr. The Guardian narrowed his eye, and then it widened in panic as he discerned what was going to happen, his demon growling and charging at the prince. Iridis dove directly at the beast, who dodged her sword strike and impaled the Daughter of Wrath with his own blade, the unholy poisons on it turning her to dust within a second, making Mysos gasp as she returned inside of his Mind Realm, but the delay had been cause and Vaikadar would be too late.

Too late, traitor scum. Your arrogance and recklessness was your downfall, Cai thought, making sure that his features were twisted in a mixture of sorrow and disdain instead of a triumphant sneer as he gripped the crystal blade, his magic closing around the reflection of Garod, who shuddered in empathetic pain as the mirror image of him was subjected to magic. He tried to heal himself, repair the cracks that were starting to appear in his body, but as he wasn't the one directly being damaged he couldn't – it was his soul, trapped in the reflective material of the Sword of Glass, that was being damaged. The Fallen sprinted towards Caiellis, his axe clattering from his grip when he decided that it was slowing him down too much despite him being much faster than most people with it, and growled, fingers outstretched and aiming for the boy's throat.

Not fast enough, Garod Morr. A gurgling, wet sound erupted from the former Guardian of Crescia's mouth, as more cracks appeared through his body. Cai made no move to avoid the large hands that wrapped around his thin neck, and simply stared straight at the man as his single working eye glazed over, becoming unfocussed like the other, and the hands didn't squeeze, not restricting his breathing in any way as the life left Garod. The youngest Lucerna tapped the side of the gauntlets weakly gripping his windpipe, and the man shattered, the shards of him smashing as they hit the ground and dissolving into even smaller particles than gradually dissipated into the air.

Cai pondered whether he should say something poetic, inspiring, motivational or thoughtful to do with the lesson learned from this day, but all he could think of that he had brought Garod Morr to justice for his crimes against Lucael, nothing more. The killing shouldn't be over-glorified – besides, once the rest of the kingdom was informed of the battle there would no doubt be many willing to do that for him, so the boy didn't have to bother. He quickly turned away from the remnants of the Fallen Guardian, his motions quick and efficient, as his soul reflection screamed in panic and pounded the interior of the Sword of Glass. Cai undid the magic, and the soul, with no body to inhabit, disappeared, though the prince knew that it wouldn't enter the afterlife – he was sure that Vaikadar would have some temporary fun with his new toy before Garod's soul was eventually discarded or used for something else.

His snapped around, scanning the area around him for enemies and trying to analyse the battle and finding that there was no longer one. The few enemies that still lived after being defeated were in the process of being systematically executed, and he heard someone jogging to his side.

"Casualty report?" he asked abruptly, sensing the presence of Mysos and knowing that he would just get an approximation, but that was better than the present situation of knowing nothing as he had been too focussed on his duel with Garod. He turned around, feeling a surge of irritability mixed with the exhaustion of Summoning and the spells he used, narrowing his eyes at the goofy grin on the older boy's face. Mysos beamed at him, and Caiellis hid his scowl, knowing that technically he should have been celebrating over the victory but feeling nothing but a slight sense of fulfilment completely eclipsed by and hanging precariously over a yawning chasm of hollowness.

Cai then realised that no matter how many traitors were put to the sword, the death wouldn't make him happy, wouldn't bring his mother back or fill the hole in his heart. He wondered if his father had reached the same conclusion, though he doubted it as he thought that Marik would stop at nothing to kill his brother. However, at least Alexander didn't seem that concerned by the war overall, though obviously his big brother was still sad about Emili's death and the brutality of it, but Alex seemed to be driven by the need to help the people and protect those weaker than him (such as me, he mused).

"Burn the bodies," he heard Drax instruct, and agreed with the man's orders – they certainly didn't want any of the corpses to be reanimated by a budding necromancer, part of Johnias's forces or otherwise, though there was no chance of Garod Morr ever returning to the realm of the living – his body had been completely obliterated, but Cai's magic had also left permanent, irreversibly damage on the man's soul, meaning that it could never be used for nefarious purposes – as the Harvester of Souls would soon find out when he came to toying with the demon's latest prize.

"I asked for a casualty report, Mysos. Could you please give me one?" he inquired again when the expression on the older teenager's face didn't change and he didn't answer the prince's prior question. Mysos's grin widened, which Cai didn't think was possible, and he said: "None, Caiellis."

"What? Are you serious?" Cai responded sharply, bewilderment crossing his expressive eyes as he looked around locating each individual member of the train that he had imprinted into his mind despite unfortunately not having the time to learn all of their names – some were battered, and a couple of the monorail's security guard were injured, but Mysos was right – none appeared to be dead, and the only corpses littering the ground were from their foes. "Oh. I didn't expect that." was his simple statement.

"They were not prepared for a proper engagement, or an ambush from those that shouldn't be able to detect them, my prince," Drax came to the two boys' sides, taller than both and smiling uncharacteristically down at Caiellis, who detected pride in the praetorian's golden eyes, both in his young general and the Lucerna family who once again failed to disappoint. "That definitely tipped the tide in our favour, as well as the enchantments the Angel of the Black Sun blessed us with – at first I have to admit I was sceptical of her, and you as well, but you both proved yourselves today. There was little way we could have won this day if you hadn't killed Garod Morr, as even Xathan, Slayer of the Wicked, failed to end the bastard's life when he defeated him."

Caiellis was glad it was dark so that Drax couldn't see his cheeks flushing ins light embarrassment, and turned to look at Orzhova – now that the hatred had retreated back inside of its cage in his mind, the dark angel looked drastically more amiable and she smiled proudly at Cai, her black eyes twinkling with equal amounts of her almost-constant amusement and happiness in her young Summoner.

"You executed that spell perfectly, Cai, though I don't recall teaching you about that second part," she laughed, twirling her scythe in a graceful arc and ignoring the startled backing away both Mysos and Drax prosecuted, and how the former almost instinctively raised his halberd to both defend himself and protect his youthful lord, though Cai was positive she noticed as her posture slouched. It was imperceptible to someone that didn't have the angel inhabiting their own mind, and although he had only passed her trial four days (that felt like months, or even years) ago, Caiellis thought he knew her quite well. "Anyway, I'm going to return to the Mind Realm now, since I look out of place being the only resident of Sancturia left here, and I've used up enough of your mana already. See you later, Caiellis." Though what she said was true, the Lucerna discerned that the real reason behind her departure was the fact that she felt uncomfortable and guilty in the Lucaelians' stares, as now that the battle had ceased the survivors, all of Caiellis's force which was quite frankly unbelievable, had gravitated towards the location of the member of the royal family in their midst and were showing the angel fearful and untrustworthy gazes. Cai felt a stab of empathy for Orzhova, as he had often experienced the same, but patently not as much as his angel in her own realm of Sancturia and now in the material plane.

"I've already told the train drivers to start up the train again," Jenna appeared next to Caiellis, who nodded approvingly at his subordinate's foresight. Jenna seemed relatively unfazed by the brutal battle, though she did look a little green so was evidently trying to hold in her revulsion.

He didn't blame her – coming from Yentar, a place mostly bereft of violence apart from the occasional conflict between Leagues as they wrestled for scientific or enlightened supremacy, to Lucael, a kingdom afraid of the dark and the creatures that lie within and forced to fight those that had traded the safety of the cities for their own dark ambition in savage conflicts. He smiled at her, though there was a strange glint in her sea-green eyes that was not present in any of the Lucaelians' – or if it was, Cai couldn't see it. In a moment of confusion he realised what it was – pity. Not pitying him because she saw the weakness that her perceived himself to carry, but feeling sorry for the fact that he was so young and yet seemed no stranger to war or death. Every now and then he saw the same thing in his father's piercing blue orbs, though Marik's version of it was tinted by guilt and sorrow at his son being forced to grow up much faster than he should have.

That annoyed Caiellis immensely. Why should he waste time being a child when it was an adult's world that he lived in? Life as a child was just a lie, an illusion that children used to hide behind so that they didn't have to abandon their fairy tale perception of the world, and the sooner they escaped from that and faced reality the better as far as Cai was concerned. The fact that he had been dragged out of his perfect life and thrust into the harsh truth of the world far earlier than most youths, some who clung to their delusions even into their teenage years, worried him not a bit.

He had little time to ruminate on the thoughts, as now that his angel had retired back inside his head the soldiers under his command were looking expectantly at him, the task of immolating the corpses evidently complete. Cai briefly pondered how long he had spent in thought, but judging from the lack of impatience in the gaze of the men and women (though Mysos was only fifteen and Ruthia was eighteen) they hadn't been waiting for long. Cai tried to halt the rush of panic that seemingly poured out of his mind the second it registered he would have to speak to all these people, as now that the battle was over his nervousness returned twofold.

Don't be silly, he told himself sternly, sweeping his eyes over the soldiers who smiled proudly at him, invigorated by their flawless victory, You were perfectly fine earlier, when you had to command them and tell them your strategy. They aren't judging you – but what if they are? What if they don't think I'm a good candidate for ruling the kingdom because I'm incapable of public speaking? What am I supposed to say? Don't be stupid, you just led them to triumph over the forces of darkness, of course they don't think you are an awful heir.

"Well … Um," he started, irked by the anxiousness and quietness of his voice and wishing he could just slink away from them and board the train again, his mind involuntarily dragging him back to when he had almost gone into shock in Capitalia Lux, and his big brother had been forced to come rescue him – who knows what would have happened if Alexander wasn't as prone to worry about his little brother as he was, and hadn't turned up? There was no one to save him here, and as he turned around, his rhythm of measured breathing hitching as the rate of inhalations and exhalations increased exponentially every second, and his mind able to apparently twist the stares of his soldiers into a combination of contemptuous leers and disappointed sadness, the pride and happiness in their eyes distorted into judgemental glares of disapproval, like the one his father had first met him with after nines years when he discovered that his thirteen year old son had not yet passed the Summoning trial.

Maybe they will understand if I just leave without speaking, he thought, the mind words an amalgamation of idle musing and the desperate need to blend back into the background, I mean, I have Summoned a First Sisterhood angel, fought against Garod Morr, one of the most brutal and powerful Fallen Light-bearers aligned with the Arch-Heretic, and led them to victory against an ambush they would have succumbed to if not for my premonitions and instincts. Surely they can't expect any more? One of the voices in his mind, sounding significantly like a whining just-teenager and the tone he had used on his big brother when he was pleading for something and he had been only a few months younger, was silenced by another, a much more pragmatic and rational voice that comforted his anxious psyche, speaking over his mind's fear, Stop making excuses. Just say something short and succinct if you don't want to do a massive speech. Angels, I'm sure they don't really care what you say after that battle.

"Uh … Ave Lux?" he offered, the saying phrased more like a question than a confident statement. He noticed Jenna concealing her quiet snickering, his cheeks going red, and the researcher hung her head guiltily when she realised that she was making the poor kid even more apprehensive and tense. However, instead of his elders reacting in a negative manner, they just repeated the saying loudly, pumping their fists in the air, and Caiellis thought that his cheeks were incinerating they felt that hot. "Ave Lux! For Lucael, King Marik and Prince Caiellis!"

Some of the older, more experienced veterans of the group – such as Drax and the two other members of his royal bodyguard that he still needed to learn the names of, celebrated the victory quietly, used to the aftermath of a brutal battle but still shocked that there were no casualties to speak of because of the Angel of the Black Sun – the angel that they were taught had been a merciless and unempathetic murderer, who had stopped any of them from dying and bolstered their resolve and strength – whereas the younger members of the military party, like Ruthia and some of the newly-trained train custodians, were loudly congratulating each other and boisterously boasting, though it wasn't arrogant or belligerent – they were revelling in each others' achievements, just like Caiellis and his sibling did to each other. Mysos in particular seemed exceptionally ecstatic, and turned to Cai and Jenna, his eyes shining with pride at what had been done.

He heard the train starting up, and the general unspoken consensus seemed to be getting back on. In front of him, he saw Mysos roughly clapping Jenna on the back, who raised her eyebrows in amusement, and declared: "You fought well!" the Lucaelian added under his breath, "For a Yentarian."

"You too, muscle-for-brains," the young woman sniggered, elegantly extracting herself and turning to the prince, who hadn't yet moved from the spot he had killed Garod Morr, who was staring in the floor, deep in thought. Though there was absolutely no way the train would leave without everyone being back on board, least of all one of the potential Lucerna heirs to the throne, Cai didn't want to be the cause of delay, principally since they were still out in the hostile environment of the abyss, and anything could appear out of the darkness without warning, souring the flawless victory. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Caiellis felt the sudden urge to join in the friendly banter of his advisers, but didn't really know what to say so just trotted behind them, looking forward to getting to Scientia Mos and slinking back into the background – he was also eagerly anticipating seeing his two remaining grandparents, as with good reason they reminded him of his mum, and the "wrinkly ones" as Alex had jokingly called them before Tybalt amusedly reprimanded his eldest charge made Cai feel like the weight of the world didn't rest on his shoulders and forget that he was a prince. Besides, the Scia Atria, main hall of the City of Books, would provide ample accommodation for his four praetorians and two other subordinates, and he could begin his duties in the morning.

Jenna snorted at him, smiling and saying: "Not feeling talkative, Cai? What's wrong?"

"I'm normally this quiet," he replied softly, slight confusion entering his voice at the researcher's look, the sister of Annia rolling her eyes, "Yes, I know that your silence is customary, but I thought you would be happy – we just won a battle against some important enemy to Lucael, though I don't pretend to know who as I know nothing of this war, with no losses. I don't know about you, but I'd be ecstatic if I was the leader of the winning side. Plus, you have that melancholic look in your cute baby eyes, just like when I first met you."

Cai stayed silent, a brooding look that suggested he really didn't want to talk about what was going on in his mind imprinting itself over his gaunt features,

"Wench! How dare even suggest that Prince Caiellis is a baby," Mysos growled, stepping in front of the brown-haired boy, though whether the older adolescent truly thought he was actually defending Cai's "honour" or was doing it satirically was beyond the littlest Lucerna, who couldn't help but break out in a smile at Mysos's bull-headedness, so much like his father, Guardian of Cassida Principia, though if their partnership was almost half as successful as Xathan's and Marik's then it would be worth it.

"Come on, Mysos. Tell me with a straight face that Prince Caiellis isn't the most adorable thing you have ever seen," Jenna giggled at the blinks of shock and bemusement from both boys, and Cai was certain that if he hadn't been royalty then the Yentarian would have pinched his cheeks like Alex had once done when introducing his "endearing" little brother to a group of girls he had befriended, and subsequently dated several members of, though obviously not at the same time. He went bright red when one of his bodyguard, around the same age as Marik but perhaps slightly older, not that the fourth decade of life was old, glanced back, a quizzical look on his face, and muttered, "Children these days..."

All three laughed, and Caiellis allowed himself to feel happiness – he deserved it, for now anyway. He was eager to use the mana communicator to contact Alex and tell him about what happened, but that could wait until he was settled in Scientia Mos.

.*.*.*.

Kaled followed Sergeant Tarkos into the city of Ja'an, the birthplace of Jarred Redhand and the only remaining Welkalite territory not utterly controlled by the Orders of Passion and thus free from Tradax Yulica's manipulation. The city had been the first one to be freed from the lashes of the Old Empire's ruling line of tyrants, and so it was fitting that it was the main stronghold of the Resistance.

When they travelled there by a boat driven by some other members, who seemed quite terrified of the imposing Sergeant, the man had informed Kaled that the leader of Ja'an, Lady Ullfaer, a member of the old and a proud supporter of the new Resistance, had officially declared the city's secession from the Empire of Passion, knowing that Usnaan and the other cities would be too occupied preparing for the war with Lucael to deal with dissidents, and that the unique terrain of Ja'an – mountains east and west of it, and the ocean to the north – would make it too unprofitable and time-consuming to assault, though if the Kingdom of Light lost the war then Tarkos had said he had no doubt that Tradax would besiege the rebellious seaside city.

Contrary to the Lucaelians, who had pulled all of their students out of the Scholaria Magnus under the fear of attack from Welkalite troops and not wanting the prodigies of the next generation to be butchered, Kaled was the only Welkalite pupil enrolled at the academy that had left as the Masters knew that King Marik would never attack children despite their connection to the enemy. Kaled had only left because of his compunction to help others, and being part of the Ja'an Guard would certainly achieve that – he thought back to his poor ma, the aged woman that had pulled him off the streets and given him a home in all of the poverty of Usnaan, ignored by the rich as they indulged in every pleasure available, their ridiculous expenditure of money catered to by the poor and the taxes enforced by the Collectors.

His ma had saved the starving him from two brutes that had fought in the Bloodsport Arenas for their own money – Kaled had stolen it to buy some food for himself, needing to eat before he died of starvation, but the men had cornered him before he could escape and were going to kill him, or sell him to the Artisans of Pain in the Order of Rapture for money. His ma had just happened upon the two brutes beating the malnourished street urchin into submission, one of them pulling out a knife and inflicting him with the jagged scar that still remained above his left eye, and utilised a charm that her long-dead husband had given her to drive them off.

She had taken the poor boy in, never once complaining about the extra economic strain, and insisted he went to the run-down establishment that constituted the local school, despite the cost it would entail. She had taught him the value of kindness, and had been willing to give up her own life in order for him to make a better one – him, who she wasn't even related to. Kaled had never known his own parents, didn't even vaguely remember loving hands touching him as an infant, but his ma had been more than enough for him. He knew that what he was doing was right; freeing the population from the Orders of Passion so that all could have the chance to have a good life, not just him, instead of being born into a down-trodden society that catered to the whims of the pampered rich as they lounged in their pleasure dens.

He was aware that it irked the proud Sergeant Tarkos that they had to rely upon the notoriously cold and xenophobic Lucaelians to aid them, recalling the days when it was just them and Redhand's strategic brilliance and radiating charisma had been enough to triumph over the Last Tyrant (an incredibly ironic name, come to think of it), but personally didn't mind so long as they didn't leave the nation in ruins because of their desire for vengeance of the abduction of the king's sons, and Kaled's own friends.

As he walked through the streets, illuminated by the gentle orange light of the evening sun, children playing happily on the beach and tanned civilians tipped their heads in respect to the members of the Resistance – Kaled had been given his own shiny new red gauntlet, showing that he was a representative of freedom, but felt as if he shouldn't wear it until he had actually made a contribution to the cause – the young Welkalite's mind drifted on to his enigmatic roommate that he had felt like he was befriending, but had been ripped away by the leaders of his own people before that could happen. He wondered if he would see Cai, or Alex, in the violence, as being princes they would probably be at the forefront, but hoped that he would see them after. Kaled hadn't seen Alexander's Summoning, but Caiellis's had been scarily powerful and could easily decide entire battles. When he had first met the little kid, he had never anticipated that the boy had that much power locked inside of him, but it explained his coldness towards others and the difficulty of his Summoning trial, though Cai had dispassionately told him that the one he had passed had been different to the one Kaled had disconnected him from.

"We're here," Tarkos gruffly announced, pushing open the door to the city hall as the Enforcers either side smartly saluted him. Kaled trailed him nervously, though he hadn't felt that emotion much before, as normally he was confident and reckless and prone to showing emotion. He stopped when he noticed that something was wrong – there seemed to be an atmosphere of defeat in the room, utterly at odds with the triumphant expressions of the Resistance members after Tarkos and him had contacted them following the victorious evacuation of the princes and the death of Ershun Firefist, former Master of Gluttony – even aloof Messa had showed some emotion at that. But now the merriment that had infused them with fresh purpose had departed, leaving behind an air of dejection and despondency. Messa was crying, sobbing uncontrollably into the arm of a burly companion that had his other arm in a sling, Jaltan if he remembered rightly. The look of utter despair on the faces of each of the Ja'an Guard brought on a wave of terror and panic, and he noticed Tarkos stiffening at the awful state of the men and women.

Lady Ullfaer, an aged, short and portly woman with greying orange hair that would have been dazzling in her youth, nodded her head to Sergeant Tarkos, her wrinkled features twisted in shame and sadness.

"What happened?" Tarkos asked, his voice stuck in between shock and furious, threatening anger directed at Tradax and the other bastards in control of the Empire, and a sudden though occurred to Kaled, who pictured Annia and Cai sniggering at his stupidity – how had Messa and the others got from the sewers of Usnaan to Ja'an in such a short amount of time? It had taken him the best part of two days to get there after his ma had died, but the vast majority of the wounds looked fresh and like they had only just been dressed.

"We had prepared an ambush for Enforcers, as we knew they were looking for us," the man who had been comforting Messa spoke up after a long moment of depressing silence that had seemed to stretch on for aeons, "And when we sprung the trap, everything was going perfectly -we had killed all of the Enforcers with no casualties … but..." his voice broke off as he became wracked with shock, and Kaled realised with a jolt how many members of the Usnaan Resistance were missing – it had been reduced to much less than half its original number, and although there were still cells operating (or at least, he assumed they were) in each other city and the entire military of Ja'an was on their side, it was still a huge blow.

"They were counter ambushed by Ilentia, the newly-instated Master of Gluttony, with her new demonic Summoning, and I had to initiate an emergency teleport," a robotic voice spoke, that heavily reminded Kaled of the Uverian Doctor Argyle, the tone bereft of emotional resonance, and the fifteen year old glanced sideways to a large holographic screen. Tarkos had mentioned the Resistance's mysterious benefactor, an inscrutable Yentarian scientist from the League of Uveria that was acting of his own accord, and against his consortium by helping them, as the aloof League was completely against taking part in the affairs of "lesser" nations, more content to just invent additional masterpieces of artifacts in the pursuit of technological enlightenment.

The man – well, Kaled just automatically assumed the person was a man, though there was nothing to suggest the scientist belonging to either gender – wore a bulbous glass mask that aptly concealed his identity, probably afraid of repercussions if any of the Uverian leaders found out about his involvement in the revolution, and went by the enigmatic name of "Gamma," suggesting that there was an "Alpha" and "Beta" according to Tarkos. Despite his reticence to ever meet the Resistance or reveal who he was, there was no doubt in any of their minds that the advanced technology provided by the Uverian had been invaluable in their success so far, and was definitely the only reason the few members of the Usnaan Resistance had survived.

"I see," Tarkos sighed, pursing his lips, though Kaled saw a deep sadness in his eyes that the man tried, and failed, to hide, "So it is up to the Lucaelians now. Damn that scum Tradax to hell for what he has invited upon Welkas."

.*.*.*.

Caiellis disembarked from the train, waving at Jenna, Mysos and his bodyguard – whose names he had learnt, as the one around his father's age was called Lancalo whilst the other, a brawny giant of a man that would make even Tristram seem small, was named Aymer, and wielded his spear with an elegance and grace that belied his immense size (Cai was pretty sure his waist was thinner than one of the man's thighs) – as they left for the Scia Atria, to be welcomed by Hierarch Martha and Guardian Weiss and have their evening meal, though of course they had arrived much later than anticipated because of the not so slight delay of a Fallen Light-bearer's army.

The train had a facility for the passengers to clean themselves up, as usually journeys took more than a day so they needed to be able to shower, and Cai had a private one located within the first carriage of the train so spent a long time washing the corrupted blood from himself, and changing into his other clothes. The boy also carried a small briefcase with a spare change of outfit within for tomorrow, as the rest of them had been taken to the Lucerna residence in the Scia Atria by Aymer, who had insisted.

He smiled at the brilliant city he was now in, though it was disguised by his scarf that also hid his birthmark, though he knew the residents of Scientia Mos were nowhere near as terrified of his as those from Civitas Sol, and to an only just lesser extent Capitalia Lux. His emerald green eyes were drawn to the many libraries that he knew the locations of off by heart, having imprinted them in his memory the first time he visited with his mother and brother at they age of just three, and stayed at Emili's parents homely and welcoming house and then Martha's, his mother's mentor.

It was fantastic, the amount of knowledge hidden within the pages just waiting to be discovered, as although individually none of the repositories of books matched the palace library in its ancient splendour and uniqueness – as the true Codex Angelica cold only be accessed from there, as well as other documents exclusive to those of the Lucerna line or with their permission – together they held a vast quantity of information that dwarfed the Capitalia Lux library, and Cai could easily just lose himself in there with all the books – as he had once done, much to Alex's chagrin as he had completely forgotten about the older boy wanting to practise his mana generation with him, though his big brother had apologised after he had shouted at Caiellis and the younger boy had ran crying to his room. That had only been a year after his mother had died.

He had politely asked Hierarch Martha to inform his grandparents of his arrival there, also telling the venerable woman his plans, though he had no idea whether the busy woman would have been able to or not, as unlike many others who would fall head over heels to prosecute the orders of an exalted Lucerna, Martha had her priorities right and an inconsequential request like that would most likely be near the bottom, after contacting the rest of the kingdom over Garod Morr's demise. The Hierarch had seemed proud of him, as he had been relatively close to the woman whenever they came to stay at Scientia Mos, which was comparatively often because of its moderate safety relative to the other cities, though it was still besieged near the end.

Cai was pleased with his first military victory, as although it was only on a small scale one of the Fallen had been eliminated, which was one step closer to triumphing in the civil war, as despite the fact that it had technically been won by his father Johnias and his treacherous compatriots were still lurking somewhere in the abyss, though now the number of Fallen Light-bearers had been halved. He idly wondered whether or not his father would be proud, as Drax had said that he was going to contact the king tonight, though Alex would be no doubt equally overjoyed and worried.

He paced slowly through the streets, nodding his head respectfully at the adults who smiled curiously at him, no doubt noticing the sword at his waist, though it luckily wasn't late enough to requisite their concern for a small boy out alone in the night, and walked down the alleyway that was quite familiar to him, although an all previous occasions it had been filled with kneeling people instead of those ignorant to his true identity carrying on with their lives as normal, making a five year old him scared and cling to his brother's leg before the older boy shoved him away. He then took a second turn, stepping into a photo-garden that shone with twinkling light blue lights, shimmering pleasantly around the boy – the wisps were some of the only nature spirits of Sancturia present in Lucael, and facilitated the growth of plants, allowing the humans to eat. Each city had a titanic photo-refectory underground, though one could make their own gardens and grow their own food with the wisps if they were the person's Summoning. The boy lowered his scarf, the danger of someone recognising him gone.

His grandparents' garden looked overgrown, but Cai knew from experienced that it was carefully cultivated by his grandmother (or "Nanna", as she was known by him, though his big brother had sometimes adopted the title also) to give the illusion of nature rampant. It was dark, and quite large, as his mother's parents had been reasonably wealthy nobles and so could afford a large private garden, and although the palace also had a larger one Caiellis had never found it as nice as his Nanna's. He stepped over snaking roots, heading towards a warm and welcoming orange glow that signified the entrance to the house.

He pressed his hand to a tree, feeling the wisps resonating within, reacting to his huge stores of mana and fully empathising with the Erian Conclave's connection to nature, but like everything apart from holy Sancturia beings it was just another tool to bend towards the survival of the people. He briefly mused about what life would be like for someone without powerful and receptive magic like him, having never really considered it before – Caiellis thought that maybe the world would seem a lot more dull, but then again perhaps they saw the true beauty in physical things, instead of its mana presence.

He walked up to the doorway of the old house that his mum had grown up in, the doorway bathed in the wan light of the flickering lanterns either side of it, and quietly wrapped his knuckles on the wooden door, though he ensured the gentle action was loud enough to echo throughout the house. The door almost instantaneously swung open, and Cai was greeted by the stern visage of his grandfather, Percival Noctis, who glowered down at him with his green eyes very similar to Caiellis's and Emili's but still noticeably different to his grandson's.

"Whadd'ya want?" he demanded gruffly, and Caiellis was taken aback. "Erm … I just wondered if I could stay the night..." he began anxiously, entertaining the notion that they didn't know about his arrival despite everyone else in the city being aware, as there was no way Percival didn't know who he was because of the ominous birthmark imprinted onto his right cheek. The old man was still taller than him despite his back being slightly crooked, and was quite portly but that was to be expected – it seemed to Cai that with "old people" it was either that or they were decrepit and thin.

"Well you're going to be disappointed. We want no more business with Lucernas," the man replied huskily, and slammed the door in the boy's face. Cai blinked in startled surprise, his thoughts of not having to throw himself in his royal duties and enjoying a quiet night with his family shattered like the body of Garod. He stood still for a few seconds, his mind taking a while to process this new development, until he heard an annoyed female voice and the door opening again.

"Sorry about Percival," his Nanna, Rosia Noctis, smiled warmly at her grandson, turning around and glaring at her husband and disdainfully adding, "He thinks of himself as quite the joker. Come in, Caiellis, and make yourself at home. It's so nice to see you again."

"I apologise, laddy, but the look on your face was priceless. You always did fall for me and Alex's jokes," Percival laughed, yanking the body into an affectionate hug and squeezing him tight – Cai knew how much his grandparents loved him and Alex, and wished the older boy could be here to see them as well. His brother and the man got on brilliantly, with them both having a joker's streak – much to the annoyance of Alex's little sibling and Hierarch Tybalt. "Arrgh, you're still all skin and bones kiddo, just like you were last time. Bloody hell, don't they feed you at the palace?"

"Percival!" Rosa snapped, her face contorted in irritation that disappeared the second she turned back to the youngest member of her family, the one who had inherited the family name, not that Noctis would ever be as famous as Lucerna. "Caiellis is a teenager, so it's to be expected. And you know he never eats much."

"Not like his brother then, though that boy never seemed to put on any weight as well. You young'uns are all so damn lanky!" Percival joked, and Cai smiled.

"Alex isn't exactly thin anymore," he said softly, though he had never thought his big brother had been at any time – he supposed that because Alexander had always been more muscular than him, and older, Cai couldn't see it.

"Angels above, I know," Rosa grinned, a nostalgic look entering her brown eyes, "I saw the holo-picture of you both that your father had taken after the war ended. He's grown up into a fine young man."

"At least one of our grandsons is still a little cutie," Cai's granddad joked, ruffling the boy's hair, "I bet your brother is a right pain in the arse to deal with, what with him being twice the size of you."

Caiellis grinned widely, nodding his head, as his grandmother tutted at her husband's usage of colourful language.

"Are you going to stand in the doorway all day and let the wind freeze the entire house, or would you like to come in and take off your coat?" Percival asked, gently ushering his grandson through and closing the door behind him, as Cai took of his shoes and passed his Lucerna prince jacket to Rosa when she beckoned for it.

"Armed for war, I see," Percival stated when he saw the sword strapped to Cai's thin waist, the ornate scabbard reflecting the yellow light of the bulbs inside. The boy's face instantly fell, his eyes misting up and becoming much more melancholic, and he quietly said, "So that means the information hasn't been spread yet."

"Oh, I know about the war with Welkas alright," his granddad responded sadly, and Caiellis shook his head slowly, "No. On the way here, the train was attacked by Garod Morr and a party of traitors, though they didn't expect it to be a military train, or for me to be there and able to detect them. We ambushed them, and killed them all. I ended the life of the Fallen, and there were no casualties amongst my troops," he uttered unemotionally, though he wondered if he should be saying it with pride to dissuade the parents of his mother from worrying about him.

Percival shared a saddened look with his wife and brought the boy into a hug, wincing at how painfully thin he was, all of his joviality and jokes gone. Caiellis tried to repress the sudden urge to cry, and ended up half-stifling sobs that made him sound like he was in pain, so gave up and let the unexpected tears roll down his pale cheeks, the Black Sun shining with purple light but not crackling with lightning.

"Why … Why am I crying? I don't understand … W-we won … Shouldn't I be happy?" he sniffed, mentally cursing inside at the amount of fat tears cascading out of his eyes, as his granddad rubbed soothing circles on his back and Rosa placed her wrinkled hand on his shoulder, gripping it reassuringly. "Why does it feel so bad … why does it hurt?"

"Look, my grandson," the man said, locking his eyes with his wife's and silently telling her that he was going to speak, "I know that war is supposed to be glorious, and the fact that none of your men died is even better, but you are still extremely young, and I know that you hate killing – Alexander told me about what happened in Civitas Sol the last time you visited, and I can't empathise with you. I have never killed anyone, so I don't know what it is like. But you know something, Caiellis?"

"Wh-what?" the boy rubbed his eyes on his sleeve, thinking it was about time he grew up and stopped crying at everything, actions unbefitting of an heir to the throne.

"The fact that you are crying now over killing doesn't make you weak, as you might think," Percival hit the nail on the head with that statement, and Cai buried his head in the man's shoulder for a second before extricating himself. "It means you are human, little man."

Caiellis let the words sink in, saw the truth in them, and stopped crying.

"Thank you, granddad," he whispered quietly, infusing a tremendous amount of gratitude in the words, and the man smiled patently – that must have been where Alex had got it from, as well as his aptitude for making his little brother feel much better.

"No problem, Caiellis. Now, what do you say we have tea? Rosa was just finishing up the meal before you arrived," Percival suggested, turning to his wife, who nodded proudly, marvelling at her husband's talent for solving emotional issues – he had done it with his own daughter, with Rosa herself, and then to his grandchildren when they had vehemently argued in the past, and now to Caiellis, the littlest Noctis Lucerna.

---

New Summonings in this chapter:

Drax Gloria: Archon of Justice

Ruthia Veruna: Firemane Angel

Traitors: Gloomhunter, Cyclopean Giant, Nightfire Giant, Mindslicer, Smog Elemental

Garod Morr: Harvester of Souls