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.

24. The Crusade Calls

Caiellis sat around the table in the main strategium room of the Scia Atria, one set up in a very similar manner to the version in Civitas Sol, just with less religious and ornate iconography and more copious amounts of information stacked up in towers of paper sheets that inspired equal amounts of tiredness just looking at the work and excitement to be able to delve into such a vast quantity of knowledge. Hierarch Martha had explained the basics of running a city, though had said that she and Guardian Weiss would still focus on day-to-day tasks whilst he could prepare the armies.

"I've prepared a timetable for you," Jenna stepped into the room, attracting the attention of Mysos who looked bored but still dutiful and winking at the fifteen year old. Caiellis nodded in thanks, accepting the offered sheet of paper filled with Jenna's scrawly handwriting, and then pulled the agenda he had created for himself after the talk with the Hierarch for the day. He cross-checked the two, and Jenna laughed. "You could have told me you had done your own. That could have saved me ten minutes."

"Sorry," Cai muttered absently, making a few changes to his own schedule that would better fit the day, though mostly he was quite happy with the way things were to progress.

He was going to review the different cohorts of the legion individually, with Guardian Weiss at his side, and speak to each leader about the troops and learn the names of the people he would be leading into battle, though personally Caiellis thought it was incredibly foolish that a person with little experience should be allowed to just assume command just because his father said so, and it spoke volumes of dad's confidence in him despite their almost constant arguing that he was willing to trust his thirteen year old with something that could potentially lead to the de-stabilisation of the kingdom if he was to make mistakes. The boy supposed that if he was quickly found wanting then either Marik would stop him from leading, or he would leave himself if he thought he was a failure.

"Do you need anything?" Jenna asked casually, leaning on one of the marble pillars that held the ceiling of the strategium up, and Cai noticed Mysos frowning at her nonchalance, the older boy sat dutifully in the seat to his right and was wearing his ceremonial armour that Xathan had had made for him, though the youngest prince was pretty sure Mysos had worn it into battle as well.

"I could do with a cup of coffee," Cai replied, as he felt exhausted because of his awful sleep full of nightmares and anticipation mixed with nervousness concerning what the day would bring. Jenna shook her head, a smile on her face. "Sorry, I can't get you that."

"Why not?" he asked quizzically, and the young woman just laughed, "Hierarch Tybalt came to me with a list of your allergies and things you shouldn't eat. I quote, "Never give the boy caffeine unless you want a hyperactive little maniac bouncing off the walls for the next two days,", and although I would probably find that hilarious I doubt any of the stony and serious Lucaelians would see it that way."

"Your aren't my mother," Cai pouted, and then added, "What if I order you as an exalted member of the Lucerna line to fetch me it?"

"Then I would have to respectfully decline, and since I am from the Yentarian Republic you technically have no authority over me."

Caiellis paused, mulling over the words and grinning at the victorious smile Jenna gave him, determined not to lose in this little game of verbally sparring, and turned to his champion. "Mysos, would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?"

"Of course, my prince," he bowed his head deferentially, the fact that he had phased out and not been listening to the conversation starkly obvious to his young liege, and stood up. Jenna rolled her eyes, "Mysos, don't listen to him."

The fifteen year old shot her a curious and annoyed glance, confused at why the logistical aide would question Caiellis's orders and attributing it to the stereotype of Yentarians constantly needing to inquire about the state of things, though he silently supposed that Cai was quite similar to one of them and could easily fit into their society, but the thirteen year old didn't possess the incessant need to obnoxiously question everything, preferring to keep his thoughts inside.

Mysos wondered, as he walked to the door to complete the task set to him, what the prince thought of him, and if he could do anything to impress Caiellis further. He hoped he appeared as a loyal, honourable warrior that was willing to protect the younger boy, but also was aware that Cai thought very differently to most people, especially in the fact that he didn't want to be called by his royal titles, and Mysos hoped that the fact he occasionally (ok, way more than occasionally) forgot didn't annoy him. Mysos thought about his friends back in Cassida Principia, some of whom had gone with him to the Scholaria Magnus but others who had remained behind, how they had all shared their thoughts and dreams and been open with each other, and found it hard to compare his relationship with Cai as one of friendship.

"Mysos, it's ok. You can sit back down," Cai called to his champion, though if he had anything to do with it Mysos wouldn't remain that way for much longer: not for any personal dislike of him or dissatisfaction with his fighting skills, as he actually didn't mind him and Mysos was a genuinely nice person, if a tad inflexible at times, but because of his age. In spite of the irony of him being younger, Caiellis didn't want children to be thrust into the forefront of brutal battle if he could help it, though he was under no illusions about how the older boy would take the dismissal, and would wait until the war actually started to do so. Drax, Lancalo, Ruthia, Aymer or several others were suitable candidates for the role, and Cai felt no particular chemistry with Mysos that would make him hesitate to give the order.

The champion gave him a bemused glance, replying with, "Caiellis? Do you want a cup of coffee or not?"

"No, it's fine. I was just testing you," he shared an amused meeting of eyes with Jenna, and Mysos shook his head despairingly, sitting back down beside the smaller boy, "Well I hope I passed it then."

"That remains to be seen," Cai said enigmatically, and then broke out in a wide smile that utterly diffused the drama his cryptic words had inspired. He then stood up himself, "Right, I'm going to go greet the generals and captains of the Scientia Mos legion, though only about two thirds of them will be going to war. We wouldn't want Johnias getting any ideas."

Noticing Jenna's puzzled expression, and deciding that since she knew more about Lucaelian culture than any other outsider, he elaborated, "Johnias, the Arch-Heretic, is my father's twin brother and plotted to overthrow him ever since he was named king in the Death Vision of King Garius II. No one anticipated his betrayal nine years ago, where he sold his First Sisterhood Angel, Serenity, to obtain an immensely powerful demon, using to to annihilate Gol and killing about nine tenths of the eight million population with the armies of Vectura, Crescia and Epulaeous, who had sided with him after their Light-bearers also partook in Infernal Contracts."

"At the same time, he had very specialised shapeshifter demons infiltrate the palace and kill my mother, Queen Emili Noctis, forcing me and Alex to be evacuated by the then former Hierarch Tybalt and not yet Guardian Tristram, where we fled demons and took refuge in different cities and in the abyss. The final battle outside of Mysos's home of Cassida Principia, where my father came very close to killing his brother, took place only a month ago. On my birthday actually, 11th of December."

"Holy shit," Jenna breathed, "And you were only four when the war started?"

"Yes. I watched my mum die right before my eyes, and I killed the demons by using Black mana that exploded out of me before falling unconscious," he replied evenly, though the gravity of his words could have sucked Jenna in and crushed her. Mysos put a hand on Caiellis's bony shoulder, who looked up in surprise at the older boy, not expecting it. He hadn't realised that he had started trembling, and hoped his eyes conveyed his gratitude to the larger fifteen year old before he slammed the cage back around his emotions.

"The might of Lucael prevailed again though due to the strategic genius and strength," Mysos declared proudly, thumping his other fist on his breastplate in a salute, and Cai added, "It wasn't just him. Every single person that helped in the war, from the loftiest Lucerna king to the lowliest photo-farmer providing grains for the loyalist armies, made a difference."

Jenna nodded her head in agreement, and then Mysos said, "The tale of the refugee princes is quite a famous one. I even met Prince Caiellis when he was six years old just before the siege of my home city Cassida Principia by the Fallen of Crescia, when my father duelled Garod Morr to protect the princes, the treasonous Guardian that Cai delivered judgement upon yesterday."

"Mysos pushed me into a table," Cai inserted mildly, smirking when the older boy blushed bright red, "So Alex, being the over-protective big brother that he is, beat him up."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he muttered embarrassedly, having hoped the youngest prince hadn't remembered that and honestly shocked that Caiellis had such a comprehensive memory of his experiences in the war considering that he had only been six years old at the time, "I don't know what came over me."

"So Mysos does have a disobedient side?" Jenna ribbed as the champion glared at her. Cai sighed, "No, I forgave him for it. He was only eight, and children do stupid things sometimes. I was definitely being a spoiled brat though. Anyway, enough of this. I need to go to the legion barracks to assess the troops."

He swiftly turned around to the door, quickly glancing at his reflection in a pane of glass to make sure that he looked suitably royal and imperious, though he would soon be covered in snow in the walk across the city, putting on an expression similar to his father's and then smiling at the seriousness of it, and then left the strategium, the information about the names of each captain of each division already memorised and etched into his mind.

The legion of Scientia Mos was far more focussed on magic than any other city, with the largest Mage Corps academy apart from Capitalia Lux in the kingdom to its name. There were many specialised branches of magic users in its military that Cai could deploy to suit a variety of different combat situations, with numerous distinct Summonings that the more prominent mages had access to. In Lucael, there was no shortage of those with fighting prowess, but those that were inadequate with weaponry but had extremely powerful magic were rarer – the prince reasoned that despite often participating in melee combat he belonged to that category, as the only reason he actually fought with a sword was because his was a relic weapon that amplified his magical strength, and it was weightless so didn't require any real physical power to utilise.

If the boy didn't have access to the Sword of Glass or something similar, he would be perfectly content to bombard his foes with spells instead and not get involved in the hack and slash brutality of close quarter combat. Cai saw it as something to be avoided unless it was necessary to accrue an advantage, and didn't see the glory apparently present in the holy task of slaying foes in close proximity in a righteous duel – the only reason he could think of it being so was that no angel as yet encountered fought without a weapon, even more magically attuned ones such as Hierarch Tybalt's Bruna, but then again even before the Unification and the establishment of Matalis Ortus Lucerna as the king and his descendants as the royal family that would protect and lead the people, melee combat had been venerated. Caiellis had resigned to just not understanding some human traits.

His bodyguard, who had been waiting faithfully outside of the room as Caiellis was being taught by Martha in the ways of governing the city, and the boy had told Mysos to come in and listen because there was a possibility he would inherit Xathan's role and not his two older sisters, whilst Jenna had gone to do some tasks she had set herself, snapped to attention the second he emerged, bowing their heads reverently but not staying that way long enough to requisite a response from the Lucerna.

"I am going to the legion barracks to examine the forces that will soon be under my command," he stated, not focussing on any individual member of his praetorians but instead analysing them all intently at the same time: Drax Gloria looked dutiful, and the disappointment that the man who was said to be the most prominent of the Lucerna Guard had shown at being torn away from his king's side and had made great pains to hide it on the monorail journey was now gone, though he was silently judging Mysos, Jenna and Ruthia, and to a lesser extent his other comrades, as if actively searching for mistakes that he could reprimand.

The red-head was eager, relatively enthusiastic for what was to come, though Cai knew her flames of Ruthia's heart were tempered into disciplined molten steel (the analogy didn't scientifically work, but he liked it anyway so was going to continue mentally using it) by the strictness of her mentor Oleic and now Drax, and would gladly lay her life down for her prince, or challenge enemies for him.

Lancalo seemed completely at ease, grinning and winking at Caiellis, a fact which no doubt immensely irritated Drax who was a stickler for protocol and respect, but Cai had seen the oldest bodyguard switch from appeared bored and inattentive to ready to act within an instant, and despite his leisurely manner was constantly examining the area around him for potential threats. Cai was reasonably sure he remembered Lancalo from when his mother was still alive, and that Alexander had adored him like he had adored every single man that was the epitome of how "big and strong" he wanted to become, including his father, who Caiellis had also idolised at the time although for different reasons.

Now that he was no longer out of his depth and clumsily fumbling around in the middle of a social situation that he was completely unused to, Aymer could be perceived as an imposing giant that would eradicate those that opposed or endangered the Lucerna line without mercy or hesitation, impaling them with his spear or crushing them with his bare hands, but Cai had observed his nice side and was much more inclined to view Aymer as a gentle giant, much like the other members of his guard did.

He was ridiculously privileged to have such a talented and potent mix of people at his side, and wondered what it would feel like to have all twelve at his side. The logical progression of his mind then induced a terrifying thought – even with all this, the army and the formidable generals, the Hierarchs and Guardians, and the Lucerna line itself that could call upon First Sisterhood angels, the fact that the forces of the abyss were still a very real threat that could possibility exterminate the Lucaelians at any time was a testament to the power of Black and those that followed its self-serving ways. Then Cai reminded himself that excluding King Acarn's blunder into the Erian Conclave's Deep Forest, which the youngest heir to the throne thought was utterly unnecessary, Lucael hadn't actually lost a war yet (despite being defeated in many bloody battles that less stubborn armies would have cut their losses and retreated from instead of being completely obliterated to the last man). Hopefully the first one he was actively involved in (he didn't count escaping the horrors of the civil war) wouldn't be the first loss as well.

Cai started walking again, with his praetorians falling into step behind him, and the praetorians swiftly came into step with Mysos and Jenna, matching his brisk pace easily because of the fact that his small size made it easy enough to catch up with, and the guards that perpetuated the Scia Atria nodded their heads towards him, saluting as the boy walked past despite him not knowing any of their names and Caiellis only doing one thing so far to aid Lucael (not counting the times he and Alex had helped to ensure their own survival as the heirs to the throne, especially very recently in Usnaan and when Aksua had attacked, though the little brother had done an admirable job of letting his sibling down then), but it would be frowned upon to publicly declare that he didn't want people respecting him for things he hadn't done, and would make him look like an idiot, naive and unready for the role as well as requiring confidence that he just didn't possess.

He walked into the gently falling snow, feeling like he should put his winter clothing back on but not wanting to look "cute and adorable", and anyway, he had put it in his Lucerna residence back inside the Scia Atria and didn't wish to appear stupid or forgetful by dragging them all back inside. Cai shivered in the cold, not able to repress his basic human reaction to it, and resolved to just deal with it as low temperatures were not the most formidable foes he had faced and overcome. In spite of that, he still felt grateful when an inquiring voice asked, "Lord Caiellis?"

"Please, just call me Caiellis or Cai," he responded automatically, attempting to flash a charming smile, but nearly had to crane his neck to look at the one who had addressed him, vaguely surprised to realise it was Aymer, who held out his own coat, his silver and golden armour now bare to the snow. An amused and gratitude filled smile worked its way onto his lips, as he realised that the ceremonial coat that had gone over the man's armour was about as large as him despite it only supposed to cover Aymer's breastplate.

"Thank you, Aymer." he responded pleasantly, as Jenna and Ruthia shared a glance and both almost burst out in laughter, sniggering under their breath as they tried with great effort to hold it in. Drax glared furiously at the two, Mysos looked comically confused, Lancalo just laughed and clapped Aymer on the back, who seemed quite sheepish when he realised how massive his overcoat was in comparison to the small Lucerna.

Cai put it on anyway – he had often worn Alex's jacket in the past when the older boy noticed his little brother shivering in the outside when they were running as Tybalt and Tristram covered their retreat and insisted he was fine (though he had once succumbed to hypothermia when he refused to take it back) in the freezing cold and that he couldn't stand to see the younger boy having difficulty, telling him that because he was more fragile and got ill more frequently, the illnesses also being more detrimental to his health than most Alexander had suffered, that Cai should wear it. The aforementioned Light-bearers had (though mostly Tristram) had donated their jackets to the youngest Lucerna on several occasions, so Caiellis thought he was used to oversize garments, and was correct, though the fact that he was able to wear it more like a shawl than an over-jacket was beneficial.

"Show some respect, Ruthia, or I may have to remove you from the Lucerna Guard, especially if Lord Caiellis is offended," Drax snapped when she and Jenna exploded in giggling when they couldn't suppress it any longer. She paled and straightened immediately, though it took the Yentarian a few moments longer to stop. "I apologise for the disrespect, Prince Caiellis. I swear on my Lucaelian honour that it will not happen again."

Cai narrowed his eyes at how tense the situation had suddenly become; he personally believed that Drax was antagonising the eighteen year old too much for genuine laughter, but then again Ruthia had only just been promoted to the Lucerna Guard and they had a notoriously strict entrance policy: only the best could be allowed to defend the Lucerna line, and if there were other suitable candidates and Ruthia couldn't control herself then maybe she shouldn't be permitted to remain a praetorian. He then almost laughed himself at how stupid that sounded – even though she was still young Ruthia was an exemplary fighter, and just because she had giggled at something actually funny shouldn't mean that there would be severe repercussions that could seriously affect her future career.

"No, it's fine. Ruthia, stand up, and what I said to Aymer applies to you all. Drax, though I do not presume to know how to run the Guard, I like Ruthia, and she is an extremely skilful warrior, so I would prefer it if she was allowed to stay," Cai said calmly, noting Drax bristle imperceptibly before he repressed it when his brain identified who was speaking. Cai ignored the fact that he was blushing slightly, and that he was starting to breath faster, though at least he had stopped shivering because despite how stupid or how much like a boy playing at a man he looked, Aymer's overcoat was well insulated and he could see why the man wore it.

"Of course, L- Caiellis," Drax responded smoothly, shooting an angry glower at Ruthia over the embarrassment she had just caused him, and the girl hung her head in shame. Drax already knew that Caiellis wasn't very strict, and could sense that the prince was subjecting them all to his own private judgements, inwardly deciding whether or not they were worthy to serve him, and that by reprimanding Ruthia he had lowered his own standing in the boy's eyes.

Cai's mysterious, beautiful (like a jewel, Drax wasn't attracted to other men, and certainly not teenagers) and occasionally haunting green orbs swept over him, and he had inherited King Marik's inscrutable eyes, and although they were wide and expressive like a child's (as the boy still was one) they held a wisdom and intellect far beyond Cai's thirteen years of life.

He didn't know if he would rather be serving the youngest Lucerna or his older brother, who was guaranteed to be more open with his bodyguards and treat them like friends, and was definitely a better physical fighter, or King Marik, by far the most powerful of the living Lucernas, and who treated them like what they were: soldiers, though the monarch had said and shown that he appreciated them at his side, which was why Drax had been seconded to the man's youngest.

The reigning Lucerna had asked to see him privately after the order was given early yesterday morning, and had emphasised that he waned Caiellis to be protected, safe and that Drax had his express permission to reign in the adolescent or admonish him if he went out of line. The sadness in the king's eyes, as well as the parental pride, had motivated him to take the duty very seriously, not that he wasn't going to already.

Crossing the city's main streets to the barracks didn't take very long because of the efficient pace, though Drax noted the prince ensured he was in the middle of the group – not because Caiellis wanted to protect himself from any potential attack, but so none of the civilians that walked amongst the streets could recognise or notice him.

Just as they were about to enter through the large fortified doors and into the barracks, Cai ordered them to stop, handed Aymer back his overcoat, emerged from the centre of his praetorians, put on his best and most kingly smile and emerged from them, holding his head high and nodding his head magnanimously at the guards who instantly knelt in front of him. Cai may detest the respect he was shown, and hate the fact that the people felt the need to bow before him just because of the identity of his father and the fact that he possessed a First Sisterhood angel (albeit the most despised one), but angels above he was good at hiding that.

The guards pulled open the doors and Cai quickly strode in, trying to ignore the heightened beating of his heart and slow down his breathing, reminding himself that he knew Guardian Weiss relatively well and that there was nothing to be afraid of. Apart from failure, appearing like an unsuitable heir to the throne, doing something stupid, freezing up because words leave your mind and you don't know what to say and just standing there, making a decision that could cost the lives of thousands of your soldiers and potentially hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of civilians. Apart from that, you have nothing to be afraid of, the pessimistic and worrying part of his mind snidely interjected, the mind voice halfway between a vindictive sneer and a frightened wailing.

The party emerged onto a balcony overlooking the main underground area of the barracks, with a stone stairway allowing one to descend to the lower floor. The interior of the primary barracks was a cavernous room, so big that it may as well have just been outside, and as far as Caiellis could see there were soldiers training with magic or with weapons. Some squads were practising marching in sync, whilst others hacked at wooden posts that seemed like they had been the recipients of millions of blows, and some sparred with each other. The boy could spot the occasional Sancturia creature, but this barracks was mostly concentrated on physical training and he was planning to visit the Scia Academy later to examine the mages that would be at his disposal. Though Caiellis could sometimes see incandescent sprays of magic, and feel White mana thick in the air as two generals, lieutenants of the Guardian, duelled with Weiss watching.

The room echoed with the clang of blades, and the thunderous, drumming sound of thudding boots aptly represented the thumping of his heart. Even though this was the largest barracks, there were many others scattered throughout the city, including the aforementioned Scia Academy, but the amount of people made him feel terrified and awe-inspired at the same time, and every sound seemed amplified by the blood rushing in his ears.

Remember that you offered to give the speech before the march out of Scientia Mos to the entire army, his mind reminded him – at the time, he had thought it would be a good idea to face his fears and overcome them, and Hierarch Martha had been expecting the request, as that was what any Lucerna would have done and she probably wasn't aware of his speech anxiety, but was now regretting that foolhardy and arrogant decision.

As one of the lieutenants, a person that he didn't recognise from appearance alone but one that Cai had heard about through his exploits, soundly defeated the other, his golden glad angel, a Sister of Light and one of Numia's daughters, sweeping into a large elemental of White and Blue mana and slicing it apart, Guardian Weiss turned from the battle and smiled up at the prince.

The man was in his late fifties, but looked none the worse for it, and was one of the wiser Light-bearers. He had a thin, wispy moustache of white that he sometimes twirled in consternation, and a carefully trimmed beard of the same colour, though the rest of his head was shaved clean. Weiss wore his armour, and his two unusual blades were sheathed, the artefact weapons relics from the vaults of the palace that had been gifted to him by the previous king for the contribution to the Grafnica War, and his Second Sisterhood angel was an extremely potent daughter of Jenara, a Sister of Wisdom, and a tricolour angel like Jenara.

Caiellis's eyes flicked to the aftermath of the battle Weiss had been observing, two young men, both in their twenties, were clapping each other on the back, though one looked significantly irked whilst the other, the victor, was happy and playfully boasting in his triumph.

The one who had Summoned the Baneslayer Angel, the former Summoning of one of the most successful non-Lucerna generals the kingdom had ever seen, Seth Sophias, was called Ciaran Benelis and was the grandson of Hierarch Martha, elder cousin of Santhia. He had made a name for himself in the civil war, and Cai had only seen him once before because of the youth's enlistment into the army at the age of seventeen and so Caiellis had only met him a year before that, when he himself had still been four. Ciaran was now twenty-five, and tall and muscular like the vast majority of male Lucaelians, particularly the soldiers.

Just like with everyone who was bigger and stronger than him, Alexander had worshipped the then sixteen year old in their first visit to Scientia Mos without their mother, though Cai had been more disposed to disliking him because of the fact that he and Alex had incessantly teased him, though never to the extent that he felt sad because the older boy still knew how horribly depressed he was over Emili's death – Alex had been much better at pushing it to the back of his mind, but sometimes young Cai had heard his brother crying when his sibling thought he had gone.

Are there not enough people that are older than me but still act childishly in my life? He thought sourly, as Ciaran briefly stuck up his thumb at the prince still on the balcony, not long enough for anyone else to notice. Cai simply stared coldly back, pretending that he was too mature to acknowledge the gesture, though if it had been his older brother or someone else he knew better he would definitely have responded. Ciaran would be serving under him, and he didn't have enough time to build up an intimate relationship with every soldier under his command, but knowing about them would suffice.

He saw Drax scanning the crowds, and if anyone had yet noticed the Lucerna watching them to their credit they didn't react – more likely they were too wrapped up in their exertions. The fighting force was efficient and exemplary, despite being the city least famed for its military, but Lucael had been founded upon martial prowess and an attack from the abyss could come at any time (as it often had in the past, though now the metropolises were the safest they had ever been, and travel between the cities was much less treacherous) and tradition was very strong in the Kingdom of Light. The inflexible hierarchy was also a derivative of this, Caiellis had concluded a few years ago when his mind had continuously questioned about why the people were compelled to kneel to a little boy that couldn't even Summon.

The self-elected leader of the royal guard was silently assessing the training methods, looking over the soldiers with an expert eye tempered by many battles despite never actually having led an army himself, and because Cai felt no urgent need to descend into the main chamber he asked, "What do you think then?"

"It is very impressive," the man replied, his generic response not quiet encapsulating what he thought, and Cai responded with, "Indeed it is. But that is not all, is it?"

Drax glanced up at the prince, who was still staring inscrutably down into the crowds of soldiers, his green eyes belieing none of his inner thoughts, and he chuckled quietly, "No, not all. The legion of Scientia Mos relies too much on its magic to achieve victory instead of the power of its soldiery, and it shows in the training methods. Whilst they may look impressive to those not experienced in this field – no offence intended, my- Caiellis, and Guardian Weiss has done a sterling job making them look efficient and unstoppable, the exercises are more like what one would see at a parade ground than a legion barracks – they aren't gruelling enough."

"A parade ground," Cai repeated, wondering what the praetorian thought of the conversation they were having, as the other members of the group had spread out across the balcony and were chattering amongst themselves, and couldn't hear them, making the talk private, "As in, something one would show to the ruler of the kingdom, or one of his relatives? Maybe Guardian Weiss was just trying to make a good impression."

Drax shrugged his shoulders, and Cai could have smiled. While the man was incredibly strict to his equals and subordinates, and the fact that he was part of the Lucerna Guard placed him outside of the military hierarchy gave him a unique position to be able to speak freely about generals and Light-bearers that would otherwise have been his superiors, now that he was talking to someone unquestionably of a higher rank to him he seemed somehow and paradoxically more casual, though probably because his perfectionist streak was subsumed by his desire to be respectful to one of the Lucerna line. "Maybe. As I said, they rely too much on magic."

"Don't we all?" he asked idly, watching as Ciaran and the other lieutenant, who he didn't yet know the name of but would like to, began another duel, the former knowing he was observing but the latter not yet aware of it, "I mean, we all rely upon our Summonings to fight the most brutal battles, and Lucaelian history is full of angels delivering our ancestors from the jaws of defeat – and nothing has changed, or will."

"The history books do generally focus on the leaders of the armies, or those that makes the greatest names for themselves, rather than the more unspoken heroes of the common soldiery," Drax said quietly, as if lowering his voice so that no one would accuse him of treason, despite talking to a member of the royal bloodline. Cai snorted, "I know that. I don't know how blind or jaded you think I am, Drax, but the heroic deeds of the leaders are almost always over glorified. Especially if the leader in question is a Lucerna. That leads onto what I wanted to ask you: What is your opinion of me?"

"You are a-" Drax started, before the boy cut in, "There will be no repercussions for being honest, Drax, so I'd appreciate it if you were."

The praetorian blinked, stunned. He hadn't even started his sentence and Caiellis had already known he would just spout some form of flattery to try and appease him. "Very well then. As you already know, I had very severe doubts about you, because of your age and the Angel of the Black Sun, but after the demise of Garod Morr and your first military victory being flawless I re-evaluated my thoughts. If you don't mind me saying, you are not a typical Lucerna, or Lucaelian for that matter, and you are quite a bit different to your brother and father, though I do see a lot of what Marik used to be in you. You are very intelligent for your age, and certainly not spoilt, and you seem to understand your role in things, whether you like that role or not. From what I've seen you aren't a very passionate person, and your emotions don't have much of a hold over you, and I don't think you possess a sense of honour as controlling as many others."

"So you don't think I am very honourable?" the boy asked, amused. If only Drax knew the stranglehold his emotions had on him – just because he didn't react to perceived slights on some unquantifiable pride, or overtly show them very often, didn't mean that his feelings had any less of a hold upon him than anyone else.

"I meant no offence," the bodyguard quickly added, as a scintillating flash of White mana erupted from Ciaran's angel and destroyed the other lieutenant's Summoning once again.

Cai smiled, "I know you didn't. And it's true, I suppose. There is no honour in death, killing, or throwing away your life because of some meaningless pride or need to gain admiration in the eyes of your peers. I only want to eliminate the enemy leaders because most of the time I am the only one that will be able to prosecute such a task."

"Your father thinks in a similar manner," Drax replied, but the boy had already turned away from the balcony and was about to start walking down the stairs. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Lancalo smiling at him, a glint of something that he couldn't quite identify in the slightly older man's eyes, but when he spun around to glare at him the glint faded, replaced by indifference. Lancalo had evidently heard his talk with the youngest prince, but the man shouldn't be getting any ideas about him treating the other praetorians any differently just because he had shown a softer side to the boy. Drax did get the feeling that Caiellis liked his advice, or his input, but couldn't be sure as the kid was quite enigmatic and gave little away about his inner thoughts. He was unpredictable, but then again Drax had got the same impression from King Marik when serving under him in the civil war, but what his son had inherited had been amplified.

Cai descended the stairs quickly as Guardian Weiss broke off from his observation of his sub-commanders duelling, striding towards the Lucerna at the bottom of the stairs. Several figures, those wearing the uniform of captains or higher ranks than that following in the Guardian's footsteps, and Cai successfully forced himself to remain calm. He was the one inspecting here, not them, and though he would still strive to appear worthy in their judgement, he wouldn't let it consume his other thoughts and suffocate rational thinking.

"Prince Caiellis. So nice to see you again," Guardian Weiss announced, walking towards the small boy and politely holding out his hand for Cai to shake, who did so. Every time he had seen Weiss, he had at first been formal to the princes but it slowly dissolved into informality, and Cai knew that the well-travelled and cultured man seamlessly blended harshness and affability with others. He had made had a positive impact on both princes, as Alex had admired his fighting skill whereas Caiellis liked his usage of logic, knowledge and intellect in outwitting his opponents – though both had been impressed by the sheer force of his tricolour White, Blue and Green mana.

The man's pale green eyes were lit up with enjoyment at meeting Caiellis again, causing the boy to wonder just how many people genuinely liked seeing him, and concluded that the number would be dramatically less had the war not happened and he hadn't been forced to flee across the kingdom for refuge before Johnias's warriors discovered their current sanctuary and attacked. One could argue – and some had – that they could have just stayed in Capitalia Lux, as even though it had just been proven to be unsafe they could have been protected, but Cai knew that if his father had devoted all his forces to keeping his sons safe then Johnias would be lounging on the throne now. He also pondered how many of the people in question preferred his much more outgoing, confident and amiable big brother to him, and decided it was almost all, with the vast majority of those remaining liking them both equally.

"I trust you find the portion of the army you have seen so far to be satisfactory?" Weiss inquired, stepping to the side of the boy and turning to look at the assembling captains and sweeping his arm out to encompass them. Cai nodded, the words parade ground that Drax had spoken still fresh in his memory, and scanned the eyes of the lieutenants, all of which remained staring resolutely forward, though he could tell that Ciaran was resisting the urge to look back down and meet the smaller male's gaze.

"These are the generals that lead each division of the legion," Weiss explained, and Cai nodded again, knowing that they would be the most powerful fighters out of those under his command – he also knew that Weiss's protégés would be there, as Ciaran, his opponent, and an older and hard-faced woman were the most suitable successors of the Guardian when he either stepped down or died, however Martha's favoured apprentices would most likely be in the academy. The Scientia Mos Light-bearer nodded, a gesture that would have been imperceptible if Cai had not become accustomed to watching intently for movements from opponents so that he could counter them.

The first one stepped forward, an attractive young woman with bright blonde hair that Caiellis vaguely recalled as having dated Alexander at one point, despite being one or two years older than his brother, and proclaimed, "I am Decia, Captain of Division One of Cohort One under General Rateis (a stocky middle aged man that glared at her, probably exacerbating any nervousness she felt)."

White mana began to flare out of her, and Cai noted how she never even peeked in the Lucerna's direction, most likely too afraid to find disdain in the royal's expression, and Caiellis cocked his head to one side curiously before rectifying it as he realised that would put her off even more.

A medium sized griffin materialised into the world, with sparkling glimmers of many enchantments surrounding it that promised a much greater power than the Sancturia being's unimpressive appearance, and the griffin screeched its respects to the Lucerna before disappearing – from what Caiellis had gathered, it seemed like the creatures in Sancturia that were made of White mana mostly venerated the angels, especially those of the First Sisterhood, and so the Summoners of them were also apparently just as worthy of reverence.

Cai simply nodded, electing to remain silent but satisfied, though he was already thinking about what a creature with such an aptitude for auras could be utilised for. Decia then glanced up (or rather, down) at the prince, who favoured her with a quick smile that he hoped highlighted his approval, before turning as the next in line stepped out.

It continued on like this for a few minutes, with each of the higher-ups demonstrating their Summoning, and although he filed all of them away and was already devising some strategies for wielding them, some made more of an imprint on his mind than other's – Ciaran's Baneslayer angel that was called Luncindia was one of the most powerful Second Sisterhood angels he had encountered so far, though still paled in comparison to the might of the First. Then there was Serena, the other angel Summoner and one of Weiss's students, who could call upon the aid of Yuria, a Daughter of Feather that could conjure up flocks of Sancturia avians, who also seemed quite useful. When the last Summoning returned to it's residence in the Mind Realm of the Summoner, Caiellis piped up, mentally grimacing at how cringe-worthy the words he was about to say sounded in his head, "Amazing. I look forward to fighting alongside you all in the coming liberation of Welkas."

"Alrighty then. Let's see yours," Ciaran suddenly exclaimed, and almost everyone either glared at him or slammed their palms into their faces in dismay.

"Uh... excuse me?" Cai stammered nervously, completely taken aback by the random and unexpected reversal of the state of things, and the young man grinned enthusiastically at him, "Well, we just spent quite a while showing you our Summonings. I think it would be fair if you demonstrated yours, Cai."

"Watch your tongue, boy! Show some respect to your rulers!" Drax barked, glaring at Ciaran and placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, and Weiss muttered in Caiellis's ear, "Oh I do apologise. Ciaran seems to be quite like Guardian Tristram, as in he utterly ignores authority. This is quite embarrassing." he moved away, "Ciaran, please be quiet. The young prince does not deserve this disrespect."

"I … um," Cai stuttered, not really sure of how to respond to the spontaneous demand. He felt sorry for Orzhova for thinking these thoughts, but he really didn't want to Summon the Angel of the Black Sun in such a crowded place, as although Scientia Mos cared the least about his Black mana they still possessed the Lucaelian abhorrence of it. If he had any other First Sisterhood angel, then apart from Ciaran's rudeness he would have no compunctions about Summoning to inspire them, but the dark seraph that resided within his mind would almost definitely have the opposite effect.

"Why not? I mean, it's not like any of us are scared of the Angel of the Black Sun," Ciaran continued, ignoring the multitude of glowers he was receiving, and Cai noticed that those that knew the grandson of Martha well were moving closer to him, the lieutenant named Dolor that he had sparred with earlier tugging on his arm and whispering something in his ear, "Actually, since you seem reluctant, I hereby challenge you to an honour duel in the manner of the age-old tradition. First blood, or the first to have their Summoning defeated."

Dolor placed his head in his palms, Ciaran evidently completely disregarding his advice to stand down and stop being impolite, but now he had forced Caiellis's hand.

Due to his and Alex's youth, neither had ever been challenged to an honour duel before to resolve issues or disputes, but not even Lucernas were exempt from it, though they could choose to decline if Cai was inclined to do so – which he was. Marik had participated in a small few, one from his twin brother who had disagreed over the method in which something had been enacted, but his father hadn't lost any.

The duels could be dangerous, but there had only been a minuscule number of fatalities over the history of the kingdom, and Caiellis knew that Ciaran wouldn't hurt him. He was more scared about using his Black mana to defeat him, as his White wouldn't be solely powerful enough to best Ciaran, and the fact that he had to win to uphold Lucerna honour – the only times barring one when a Lucerna had been defeated was when they were pitted against another Lucerna. Cai wouldn't have expected this at all – most people were extremely reluctant to challenge a Lucerna, as it was considered extremely irreverent and disrespectful, and even then he wasn't in Cassida Principia, where honour duels were used to decide upon quite a lot, but in Scientia Mos, supposedly the most intellectually minded metropolis.

Mysos instantly appeared at his side, and said to the younger boy, "Caiellis, let me duel him. I am your champion, and it is my duty to uphold your honour."

Cai narrowed his green eyes, but Mysos's were almost pleading, and he knew this would have been the elder teenager's first contest of honour. He mulled over it, and weighed it up against the other options he had available, and turned back to Ciaran, who had an excited gleam to his bright blue eyes. "Please, my prince. I will duel for you."

"Just don't get yourself hurt," he murmured aside to his friend, and then turned back to Ciaran, who grinned as Guardian Weiss shook his head despairingly, and let his voice become stony and cold. "As my champion, Mysos will first duel you to settle whatever unknown dispute you have with me. If you are defeated, consider this business settled, but if he loses then I will fight you. Though mindlessly challenging people to duels will get you nowhere." he admonished, trying to sound adult.

"Good luck, Mysos!" Jenna called out as the two began to walk towards each other, to shake hands before the duel started, and Cai quickly made his way to the twenty year old.

"You must think this is incredibly stupid and pointless," he sighed to the older girl, who smiled back at him, "No actually, I find it quite similar to the sparring some of the League of Isak do to train or solve arguments. It is refreshing to the continuous political backstabbing and the machinations between the Leagues and those not affiliated with them back in Yentar. Sometimes I wish we could have as rigid a system as you Lucaelians, to have more stability."

"Well I think it is," he smirked, "I'd much rather be comfortably sat plotting than fighting against people much stronger than me. Physically stronger, at any rate."

The two finished shaking hands, Ciaran a head taller than his ten year younger opponent, whose eyes were suffused with seriousness and a need to impress the youngest Lucerna, who watched with a mixture of curiosity and apprehensiveness. A beam of radiance illuminated the fifteen year old, and he drew his large broadsword, pointing it towards the sky as the beam's intensity increased.

"Allow me to introduce Iridis, Seraph of the Sword," the boy intoned, as the Daughter of Wrath entered the material plane with a flash of blinding light and elevated her elegant sword, the tip shining with holy luminosity. Ciaran nodded, completely respectful now that he wasn't challenging the littlest prince to a duel – had he not been a Lucerna, Caiellis's age would have exempted him from the trial by combat, but even so it was frowned upon to confront a child.

"I am honoured to be your opponent, Iridis," the young man bowed his head, and the angel nodded, her face set in resolute determination, just as shining orbs of gold began swirling around the Hierarch's grandson. The orbs began to coalesce, gifting one another with their light, and formed his angel. Luncindia was clad in golden armour that left a few places bare, where her perfect and unblemished pale skin shone in the release of White mana from both combatants. Billowing white fabric flowed around her sculptural body, and as well as a large greatsword the Baneslayer angel held a circular golden shield embossed by the Illuminate Crown, the symbol of Numia that would have been imprinted on any Lucerna in the past that was blessed by the Angel of the Light.

"This is Luncindia," he explained, and he drew his own sword, thinner and lighter than Mysos's but still quite weighty and large. His angel spoke, filling the room with her divine voice, "I will not waste time with words, Iridis, as I know that you never speak in a battle."

Cai couldn't tell whether or not Luncindia was as keen as her young Summoner, but the Baneslayer angel spared him a glance, as if sensing his scrutiny and picking it out from everyone else's – most probably due to the Black mana present in his body. Her eyes narrowed, the golden pupils filled with a mixture of sadness and shame, before the emotions were erased and she turned back to the combat.

"Are you ready?" Weiss asked, and both nodded, Ciaran saying, "I don't know you very well, son of Xathan, but I'm sure you will do your father – and yourself – proud. May the best warrior win."

Mysos sprang forward, his ethereal armour already coating his body with milky white plates of mana, and swung his broadsword at Ciaran, who parried with his own weapon. Iridis launched herself into the fray also, pressing the attack against Luncindia, who blocked the first strike on her shield before deflecting the second with her blade in a spray of sparks. Mysos attacked again, and Ciaran darted back, blasting a beam of light at the younger male, which obliterated one of his aura protections but left him unscathed. Caiellis had realised from watching Uncle Tristram duel against Guardian Oleic in the civil war that when fighting not to kill, human tended to ignore angel because attacking them felt like they were marring holy perfection and committing an unspeakable sin, and the pattern was repeated here. He wondered if Ciaran would do so when fighting his angel, as whilst Orzhova inspired the same awe that the rest of her race did she was also an avatar of Black mana.

Luncindia knocked Iridis away and swooped down, aiming for Mysos, but the Seraph of the Sword instantly recovered and barrelled into her side, almost sending both tumbling to the ground as they fought to remain aloft, their swords scraping against each other as beams of light collided with one another in shimmering displays of luminescence. Ciaran then shot towards Mysos, his sword carving an arc throughout the air, and the younger boy swiftly blocked and riposted, wielding his weapon with skill born from training with it all of his life, and Ciaran was hard pressed to dive out of the way.

Iridis opened her wings to their fullest extent and flew away from Luncindia, reversing in the middle of her ascent and plunging down towards the other angel, her sword aimed at her chest, when a magical net of restraining White mana wrapped around her, drastically restricting the seraph's movements until she emitted a pulse of erasing White mana, but by then it was too late. Iridis dodged the Baneslayer's attack, but was unprepared for Ciaran to kick Mysos away from him, leap into the air on holy wings that reminded Caiellis of his own stained glass variety and slice his sword into her, the tip shining with blinding light that exploded out when it hit.

Everyone covered their eyes when the blow hit, but instead of following suite Cai simply closed his left and looked through the Lens of Innocence – he could see Iridis dissipating into a holy glow and Mysos falling to his knees, stunned at the sudden defeat. He shot to the older boy's side, and as the light faded he deactivated the Lens and saw with his normal sight, glaring at the mildly triumphant features of Ciaran. Mysos simply stared at his hands, and Cai placed a slender palm on the Principian's shoulder, attempting to reassure the clearly distraught champion, "Don't blame yourself for it. You did well."

"I'm sorry … my prince, I failed you," he murmured, all of his pride gone, and looked up ashamedly at the youngest Lucerna, who shook his head, not entirely certain how to deal with it and restore the fifteen year old's confidence, and said, "No, you didn't fail me. You fought well, and was just caught off guard."

He glowered up at Ciaran as Martha's grandson crossed the short distance to them, kneeling down to Mysos and looking the boy in the eyes, "Don't be too harsh on yourself, Mysos. You are still young and have a lot to learn, and you did fight well. Besides, the prince shouldn't have made you fight me when he knew you weren't up to it," he turned his gaze to Caiellis, who saw something chastising in the young man's eyes.

"Oh, so we are blaming me now, is that it? Not you for recklessly challenging me to a duel for no apparent reason?" Caiellis snapped back. He was beginning to get very annoyed with Ciaran, how he had randomly declared an honour duel against his thirteen year old prince and was now blaming him for Mysos's defeat, "Anyway, Mysos did lose. Now you can duel me. Happy now?"

Ciaran didn't reply, and just silently made his way back to his side, though Cai had definitely seen a change in his eyes, but couldn't deduce what it was before the older boy had turned away. Luncindia gazed at him, and Caiellis was incredibly shocked to see something resembling fear in the angel's eyes, as well as hatred – was Orzhova really detested that much in Sancturia? But then again, she was the only First Sisterhood angel that had actively aided the darkness by executing Xarius's orders, and she would have been disliked beforehand because of her innate Black mana – additionally, Caiellis didn't know what Orzhova had been up to in her exile. Maybe he would ask her some time in the future.

Cai shook his head. He really didn't want to have to do this. Perhaps he should attempt to annihilate the lieutenant's Summoning with the increase in mana he got from the Angel of the Black Sun's presence, or maybe he should follow his original strategy and inexorably whittle his foe down until there was no way Ciaran could win. At any rate, the chance of failure was quite low, which made Caiellis wonder why he would challenge a Lucerna before pushing his thoughts from his mind in preparation for amassing the unadulterated hatred and sadness needed for the ritual.

He shut his left eye again, beginning the familiar motions of Summoning by welling up his White mana as contrails of golden energy flowed around the left side of his body, his magic levels rapidly rising as he drew upon the huge reserves locked inside of him that Uncle Tybalt had often complemented – he really didn't want to be exhausted, which is what Summoning Orzhova would do to him,, but Ciaran had left him with little choice. He then shut away the emotions of contentment and righteousness flowing through him, replacing them with those overfamilar sensations of despair and sadness that consumed his thoughts whenever he thought too deeply about his tragic mother.

Caiellis heard several loud gasps resounding from the crowd, and at some unspoken order the clanging of blades in the background stopped, indicating that the soldiers were too occupied by watching the duel than training, now that they were seeing a Lucerna fight – particularly one with such an unusual First Sisterhood angel, and the fact that none of them would have ever observed the youngest prince (although a small few would have seen Alexander's Aurelia) fighting before. The White mana began to be converted into Black when it entered his Lucerna birthmark,

He felt tendrils of shadow circulating malevolently around him, the manifestation of Black mana starting to mix with the White and coating each other in opposite energies that represented eternal longevity, power, ambition coupled with the desire to protect the community, and as they passed through the Black Sun imprinted on his right cheek a large sphere of unlight began to form out of it, as well as a simultaneously imperious and haunting choir that echoed across the whole room. The entire barracks was bathed in purple dark-light, just as Caiellis raised his sword to the space in front of the Black Sun, creating a scythe of shadows and coating it with gold coursing through his free palm.

Caiellis felt like a god. His thoughts turned to arrogance, of crushing the pitiful resistance of Ciaran and proving to all who was superior, before he he suppressed the disturbing ideas that were entirely unbefitting of his personality and what a Lucerna was supposed to think like – though he could tell where a lot of Xarius's mindset came from. It was laughably easy to become convinced of one's divinity when they had this much power at their disposal, but as Orzhova had said, one of Cai's greatest strengths was that he always considered failure, and it was possible that Ciaran could defeat him.

When she emerged from the Black Sun, Orzhova shot him a brief but concerned glance, sensing the thoughts going through his mind, and Cai met her eyes and grinned, letting the feeling of power stay but removing the notion of humiliating Ciaran – besides, he was still annoyed at the older male arbitrarily demanding that Caiellis Summon and duel him. He was more than happy to indulge now, and already his strategic mind was processing hundreds of different scenarios dependant on the actions he would take and how Ciaran would respond, deciding what he should do to achieve victory in the most inspiring way possible for the onlookers.

"Ciaran Benelis. This is-" he was about to announce, his youthful and soft voice infused with an otherworldly timbre, but Luncindia interrupted with an outraged, "Orzhova!"

"Were you expecting anyone else?" the Angel of the Black Sun shot back sarcastically, her lip curling into a sneer when she gazed upon the Daughter of Numia, and held her scythe out horizontally in front of her, gripping it with both gloved hands and muttering to her Summoner, "I dislike Numia and her Daughters quite a bit. I find that they are arrogant, self-righteous, and most of all ignorant and blind to the truth of reality. Let's put Luncindia in her place, shall we?"

While Caiellis couldn't agree with Orzhova, as being a Lucaelian he venerated and respected each and every angel (despite not actually worshipping them like many others) for the deliverance from the darkness they offered, he nodded anyway, and held his blade in a ready position.

"A … Are you ready?" Weiss inquired, his voice uncharacteristically shaky, and Ciaran nodded.

"No, actually. I am not ready," Cai responded calmly, and then proclaimed, "Before we fight, I want to know your motives behind this. Otherwise I am going to Unsummon Orzhova."

"Ok then," Ciaran replied, and then grinned, "There are two. First: I wanted to see if you were strong enough to be leading thousands of troops into battle, and by fighting you I would be able to figure that out. Something me and your brother both agreed on was that if you fought someone, you would find out more about them then just talking." Caiellis didn't agree at all, but remained silent, content to let him finish his explanation. He did recall Alex and him constantly wrestling each other, despite his older brother being eight years younger than the at the time sixteen year old, though he assumed Ciaran had gone easy on him like Alexander sometimes did when he had sparred with his older brother in the past, despite the fact that the middle Lucerna did like to prove that he was significantly stronger than Caiellis.

"So you thought that by fighting me you thought you could ascertain whether or not I was suitable for the role of leadership, because you think that actions are louder than words, correct?" he asked when the older male fell silent, glad that he hadn't given in to his thoughts of scornfully crushing the impudent lieutenant, as that would have reflected negatively on his inner personality – it would have showed that he was a lot like Xarius, something that wasn't true and to be quite honest was it had been getting irritating that people automatically compared him to the self-styled Emperor of Light simply because they shared the same Summoning – it made them similar, but what it didn't mean was that he was naturally an autocratic and greedy dictator.

"Yeah. I also wanted to see if I had improved in my training, and battling against a Lucerna would be the ultimate test. Sorry about that, I guess. If you had been Alexander then we could have just done it privately, but I knew that there was no way to get you to do it short of publicly challenging you to an honour duel because you hate fighting," he snorted, probably realising how stupid he had been to ask to battle against one of the "divine" heirs to the throne.

"Repeatedly bringing up Caiellis's brother isn't helping your case," Orzhova scoffed, voicing Cai's thoughts. Fine, the youngster thought, If you want me to prove to you – and to myself – that I can lead, then I'm more than happy to fight. Though I don't see what a one-on-one engagement has got to do with leadership. I really don't understand some people. And I'm fine with obliging to give you a test.

"Thank you for sharing your reasoning. I am ready now," the boy said, already channelling mana up inside of him, feeling it seeping out of his skin and wrapping his fragile body in its dark luminescence as shadows and light blended around him. He saw that Ciaran seemed both anxious and confident, as if mentally preparing himself for the test to come. The stirring and eerie choir began to increase in volume, and Cai held the Sword of Glass in a ready position, half of the crystalline blade dripping with tenebrosity whilst the other half shone with blinding brilliance.

"Then let's begin," Ciaran grinned. Caiellis pulsed mana through his sword, using it as a way to increase the potency of his magic, but while he was doing that also conjured up his ever-useful stained glass wings. The conditions for winning were first blood or the destruction of the opposing angel, so to that end Cai used a technique that he had developed from watching his own father fight by forming a large selection of magical blades of White and blasting them towards Ciaran. However, as he didn't exactly know how dad had done it because he had never asked the man and had been forced to replicate it from inferring what it would be like, the spell had become something unique to him. Instead of incandescent blades of golden metal, his own were much more like crystal or glass shards, and were saturated with life draining mana that Orzhova gifted him with.

He waved his palm in the direction of Ciaran, and the blades began to bombard the older male as he dodged some whilst Luncindia smashed others apart with her shield and sword, hard pressed to prevent them from drawing her Summoner's blood, but just succeeded. Orzhova flew at Ciaran, her scythe pulsating with purple lighting that coruscated through it and mixed with the shadows surrounding her wings, fulminating through the ground as the twenty-five year old had to launch himself into the air to avoid.

Usually Caiellis wouldn't be this aggressive in a fight, though he was dynamic, but he had decided that the wide disparity between his and Ciaran's internal mana pools and the fact that he had an obvious advantage because he could wield two types of mana meant that he could be less patient than usual, although he had several spells that he could fall back on if necessary. He focussed on his negative thoughts as Orzhova single-handedly distracted both his opponents, etching smoking sigils in the air in front of him whilst watching his dark seraph's battle carefully, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Luncindia instilled her blade with thrumming White mana, and swung it at Orzhova, the energised sword carving with swathes of air apart and only just being deflected by her scythe as its momentum was slowed down just enough by the substantial and solid gloom the Angel of the Black Sun created around her. Caiellis released his spell just as Ciaran threw chains of gold around his angel, the words he had drawn into the air imprinted onto the Baneslayer angel's skin and making her shriek in pain, a sound that made Cai feel hugely guilty and whisper a word of apology to Luncindia. He emitted more Black mana as Orzhova held up the golden medallion representation of her symbol in her left hand, allowing her young Summoner to use it as a conduit to amplify his magic and let her use his spells.

The debilitating dark magic was spreading across Luncindia, and despite the fact that he had poured a tremendous amount of mana into it he didn't give into the temptation to make it corrupting. Wincing in empathy, Ciaran dodged the arcing scythe blow and ran towards Caiellis, his own wings augmenting his already potent speed that he had because of his height and physical fitness, as the youngest prince spontaneously switched the type he was discharging, the malicious glyphs inked across Luncindia's skin and immune to the disenchanting spells she repeatedly cast instantly flaring with fluorescence and converting the pain into banishment, though it wasn't quite powerful enough to remove Luncindia from the material plane without weakening her further – Cai wasn't as powerful as his dad, whose ancient Lucerna sword allowed him to do so.

He repressed his smile as Ciaran charged towards him, releasing more mana as tendrils of darkness crashed into the ground, the grandson of the Hierarch narrowly avoiding them as orbs of White mana detonated next to the lieutenant, almost knocking him off his feet as he was forced to fly into the air. Cai worked with Orzhova, who raised her scythe, as a huge pillar of White and Black mana shot down from the ceiling and obliterated the ground where Luncindia was.

Cai blinked in feigned surprise as the Baneslayer angel flickered out of existence for a split second, her form blinking forwards and dodging the beam of darklight, the enchantments that he had painstakingly cast upon her destabilising without a target. Both Luncindia and Ciaran shot towards him, Orzhova too far out of position to intervene, and he smiled.

He released an imperceptibly small amount of mana, just enough to levitate one of the shards of stained glass that littered the floor after his first spell, and called it back to his free palm. It shot through the air, barely touching Ciaran's calf, but when it returned to his left hand the edge was coated in sticky crimson blood.

"First blood," he smiled, holding out the piece of glass as Ciaran skidded to a halt, the strike that he had almost completed leaving his blade almost touching Cai's thin throat, as he had made no moves to avoid the incoming blow. Ciaran glanced down at his leg in surprise – sure enough, there was a very tiny cut trickling blood there, and he just laughed, Unsummoning Luncindia, who glared at Orzhova for a second as the dark seraph smiled mockingly back, and departed to her Summoner's mind realm.

"Prince Caiellis Noctis Lucerna is victorious!" Drax declared loudly, and there were a few cheers and claps but mostly the soldiers were too stunned to react – they had all assumed that the prince wouldn't be defeated easily, and would have something up his sleeve, but not that. Cai nodded his thanks to his First Sisterhood angel, who winked indulgently and left in a flash, the Black Sun symbol flaring into life and obscuring her from vision, just before Caiellis felt her re-enter his mind.

"Why did you defeat me like that?" Ciaran asked, staring down at the smaller boy, who looked impassively back, "I felt the amount of mana you have locked inside of you that you can release when you Summon. It would have been really easy for you to crush me with it."

"You said that you wanted to see whether or not I was suitable for leadership. Personally, I don't know, but hopefully this has given you an insight into if you think I am capable or not. Plus, how would contemptuously sweeping you aside with powerful spells have proved anything? Everyone knows that a Lucerna has a gargantuan mana base, so how would demonstrating that have any correlation to leading?" he asked, his voice calm and soft. Another benefit to not executing the actions outlined above was that he wasn't exhausted from the expenditure of all his mana, though he still felt tired. Ciaran grinned, and said, "I get it now. You wanted to show me that you don't care about glory, or ending your foes in a dramatic or inspiring way, so long as you win. You wanted me to see that you could concentrate on our fight and also the wider battle. I think you are worthy to command the Scientia Mos legions. You've grown up so much from when I last met you and Alex."

He knelt in front of the littlest Lucerna, a proud smile plastered on his youthful features, and Cai sighed. He knew that Alexander had looked up to the then sixteen year old as an older brother type figure – something that his big brother hadn't had much experience with, reciprocating what he learnt by being with Ciaran onto Caiellis, and wished Alex could see the lieutenant again now. Then again, Marik wanted both his sons to go to war, so when the middle prince recovered Alex would probably find himself by Cai's side.

.*.*.*.

Caiellis gulped when he peeked around the corner of the main tower of the Scia Atria, offering a commanding view of the courtyard filled to the brim with soldiers – though he knew that there would be many more listening to him, as the amplification device Hierarch Martha was holding would allow those assembling in the other plazas to hear his voice, despite not actually seeing him. He felt a fluttering in his stomach, and wanted to vomit because of the anxiousness, but at least he had a few more minutes to compose himself.

He turned back to Jenna, as the height and the amount of people he would be speaking to made him nauseous, like he was plunging into an endless abyss and was forever falling, fiddling with the tassels of the imperious jacket he wore that his father had had made for him just after the war ended for occasions such as these. It made him feel extremely uncomfortable, like a pampered and spoilt brat, and on an impulse he took it off and replaced it with another jacket, one that he wore far more commonly – he had worn it earlier today, in fact – and still was designed for a Lucerna and decorated with the emblems of the prestigious royal family, though not as ostentatiously as the first.

"I wondered when you would do that," Jenna smiled encouragingly, evidently sensing his disquiet and trying to add humour to the situation, "You've been fidgeting with ever since you put it on."

Caiellis didn't respond, just kept staring at an entirely arbitrary but fixed point on the wall and trying to control his breathing. He seriously considered asking Hierarch Martha and Guardian Weiss to do the address like they were supposed to, but then again it had been publicly announced that he would be giving the pre-war speech, and it would make him look like a fool and an unready child if he backed down now. He dearly wished his big brother was here – not just because Alex would be doing it with him, but because of the encouragement and support that merely the older boy's presence would give him – sure, his some of the praetorians, Jenna, Mysos and the Light-bearers were trying to assuage him and help him along in the first public address he had ever done, but none of them knew him like Alexander did so could never do it as well as his older sibling.

He idly traced his fingers round the golden circlet he was to wear when speaking, another item that Marik had made for his sons when the civil war ended, though Alexander hated his and had immediately concluded that he didn't like his version (although he hadn't said that to dad's face) and Cai was inclined to agree. At least it did make him look more kingly.

He glanced at his watching, feeling sick when he saw that there was only a minute left, and turned his eyes desperately to Hierarch Martha, who was busy completing the preliminary speech outlining the information concerning the war (not that anyone who was listening wouldn't know that already) silently hoping that some complication would arise that would prevent him from doing it, but that would only delay the inevitable.

Maybe if I made myself sick, he thought, which he could do by casting Black spells upon himself, however everyone in the room would know and judge him for it. Damn it Caiellis! Why did you ever think it was a good idea to agree to this? You are going to have a panic attack on the stage, and that will make you look even more stupid than if you had just let the Light-bearers do it. Damn idiot. Stupid fool. Aren't you supposed to be intelligent? This smacks of anything but.

"You'll be fine," Jenna attempted, and the boy shot her a nervous glance, his expressive green eyes full of worry and fear. "I mean, how badly can it go?"

"Very," he murmured, though too quiet for the Yentarian to hear him, and she tried to smile reassuringly at the prince – and despite being quite a bit more extroverted than the quiet boy, she certainly didn't envy him. She had sensed that he had a strange form of social anxiety when the battle between the loyal and traitor Lucaelians had ended – and it wasn't just due to his age, as while most just-teenagers would be afraid of speaking in front of a lot of people, Cai seemed worse. However, the kid seemed to be able to push it out of the way in the face of violence, but as soon as that ended he instantly became anxious and hesitant.

Cai felt slight, small, young and weak, unsuited for embracing his princely duties and that a gust of wind would blow him over. He felt light-headed, and almost thought he was going to have another migraine due to hearing the pounding of his heart, and the pain behind his head, but soon ascertained that it was just a headache caused by his anxiety mixed with worry and wasn't as bad as one of them. Oh angels – imagine if I did have one in the middle of the speech! How awful would that be?

"Good luck, Caiellis," Mysos said, and he remembered the boy ecstatically clapping him on the back and almost sending him flying just after the honour duel with Ciaran – actually, all of his bodyguard seemed pleased for him, and Weiss had been about to speak harsh words to the lieutenant before the youngest Lucerna informed the Guardian that he had forgiven Ciaran for his impertinence. That didn't stop the admonishing conversation Weiss and the Hierarch's grandson had had (though Martha had seemed incredibly amused when she had given him a tour of the academy a few hours ago), but hopefully had lessened the intensity of the reprimanding.

Cai recalled Aymer looking like he was stuck in an indecision about whether or not to give the prince the same treatment as Mysos had but didn't want to crush him, but Ruthia had had no compunctions over ruffling his hair, before Drax shot all of them a cold glare and spat, "You are supposed to be praetorians, not a fan club. Act like it. Besides, I don't think Caiellis likes this either, but the prince is too kind-hearted to tell you to stop (he had been correct about that part)."

He checked his watch for the final time, stifling a whimper when he saw that he only had ten seconds left. Martha looked over into the wings where the prince, Jenna and Mysos (the praetorians had been deployed in strategic locations to help combat any possibility of assassination (Just what I need)) were, and began to walk into it, holding the amplification device out in front of her for him to take.

Screw you, negative thoughts. All I have to do is talk. I can't fail now. I won't fail now. This is my destiny.

He stumbled towards her, almost falling flat on his face when his legs at first refused to move out of shock, and despite trying to think motivational thoughts his mind was still subsumed in panic. Cai took a deep breath as Martha handed the microphone over to him and whispered, "Your mother would be proud of you," in his ear.

Thanks. Randomly bring up her, he thought, sarcastically, but the words touched his heart as he emerged onto the outward gallery, several tens of metres above the soldiers he was speaking to, though his voice would be carried by infusing the device with his mana. Light illuminated him, the mana-powered spotlights almost blinding as it took his eyes a moment to adjust.

It was dark, as usual, but the courtyard and city below him shone with numerous street lights, candles in the all-consuming shadow that refused to be snuffed out by the forces of the abyss. He had always enjoyed looking out of the window of his room in the Capitalia Lux palace, glancing down at the many flickering lights of the capital city below him (as the palace was the tallest structure in the entire kingdom, though his room was far from the highest chamber containing the Lucerna Throne where the most dramatic edicts were delivered, and the Scia Atria was likewise the tallest building in Scientia Mos). In spite of the distance between him and his audience, and the darkness obscuring them despite the light, Cai could still pick out individual faces. Or so he thought, until those faces turned into derisive sneers and judgemental glares, and the boy knew that his mind was just playing tricks on him again.

He coughed, holding the amplifier away from him when he did so, and then brought it back.

"Legionaries of Scientia Mos," was what he was supposed to say, was what he thought he would have said, but all that came out was a small squeak luckily too quiet to be detected by the amplification device and projected across the whole audience of thousands. That would have been quite unfortunate. Alright, Caiellis, calm down. Try again. Pretend that you are just practising speeches with Uncle Tybalt, or Alexander, not talking to thousands of soldiers that you are asking to attack another empire … yeah, it's probably not the best idea to think of that. Or perhaps it is. These people are counting on you – if you fail them now, they will be disheartened before the entire war starts. Nobody gives a shit that you hate public speaking, nobody cares that you are scared. Much more is at stake than the possibility of embarrassing yourself.

"Legionaries of Scientia Mos," he managed, his amplified voice emerging a split second after his own shaky and youthful, and he swept his gaze across the soldiers, not focussing on the blurred faces that his mind twisted into condescending glowers. He just hoped they didn't mind that he sounded like a small and frail boy instead of an unstoppable and divine Lucerna prince.

"Tomorrow we begin the march on Welkas, the New Empire of Passion that abducted me and my brother and has plagued us before, through and after the civil war, slaughtering innocent civilians, traders and soldiers in their raids on the routes from the City of the Sun. However, we are not just doing this because of that, though the lives taken will be avenged and justice served," he said, softly, glad that he didn't have to shout so that the full emotional resonance he was feeling was reflected in his words. Caiellis didn't exactly know where they were coming from, as every plan or script he had tried to create or memorise dissolved in his mind and seemed inherently flawed in his horror, but continued on, emboldened by the fact that he was speaking.

"We are doing this because if we do not, then the Welkalites will fall to the darkness," he stated, and heard a few gasps or mutters of concern fluttering up from the crowd. Now that he was in the flow of speaking, the lessons he had ingrained within himself were coming unbidden to the forefront on his mind, whereas in his panic he couldn't remember any of them.

Back in the room connected to the main stage, as Mysos watched enraptured by his friend's speech, Hierarch Martha turned to Jenna, saying, "You know how the large scale mana communicators work, correct?", motioning towards the inactive pieces of large equipment that overlooked the stage. Jenna took a moment to examine the machinery that's original design was from Yentarian origin but had been altered by the Lucaelians to fit their own needs, and nodded. "Yes, I do, Hierarch."

"Good," Martha said, her old and wise eyes flicking back to the young prince, and Jenna could sense the woman's mind conceiving some sort of plan, "Unbeknownst to Caiellis, the mana communicators were made operational a day ago, and have been tested though not used for any purposes yet. As every pair of Light-bearers in Lucael, apart from most likely the Civitas Sol ones as King Marik mentioned that he wanted to give the speech in the City of the Sun, will be giving their speeches now – as that was how we arranged it – I want you to activate them. Covertly, if you can."

Jenna nodded, inferring her plan from those words – she wanted to broadcast Caiellis's speech to every muster of soldiers in the kingdom. The twenty year old sniggered when she imagined Cai simply falling over and dying if he knew about what was going to happen.

Martha fished out the smaller mana communicator that was given to each Light-bearer from her robes, and activated it with a pulse of White mana, calling a very specific person.

"Hierarch Martha? Is there a problem?" King Marik's stony voice could be heard, the artificial rendition of it almost perfect but not quite capturing the inspiring quality of the ruling Lucerna's tones, "I was just about to begin my speech."

"No, there is not a problem, my lord. I just wanted to ask you to inform the Light-bearers in every city to activate their large scale communicators, and broadcast ours," the venerable woman stated calmly, picturing the king's momentary indecision before it clicked in his head that if Hierarch Martha wasn't giving the speech, it meant that Guardian Weiss wasn't either, so someone else was. She heard apprehensive parental pride in the man's voice when he agreed, "I will do so."

"When me and my older brother were abducted and brought to Usnaan, I sensed a deep darkness – a canker – at the heart of the Welkalite capital," Cai continued, ensuring that his voice carried a hint of the very real sadness he felt at the mistreatment of the downtrodden population. His thoughts went back to the man who had been brutally captured simply because he didn't have enough money to enter the Augur's Quarter, his blood boiling with the memory, and hoped that his words would encapsulate that. "They have only just discovered the darkness. They are falling prey to its whispered words, the honeyed lies about making their innermost desires reality, not realising that by doing so they are dooming themselves and damning their empire. It is up to us to save them."

He transferred the amplifier to his left hand, and raised his shaky right to the black sky, hearing gasps of shock and horror and stifled cries of alarm as he released Black mana, questing tendrils of gloom wrapping around the right side of his body and only visible in the perpetual night because of the spotlights shining down on him. Cai didn't provide form to his magic, just let it billow around him in a cloud of malevolent tenebrosity, and spoke again, "We have a much greater experience with the darkness, having survived within its depths for millennia and carved out one of the greatest kingdoms the world has ever seen. It would be incredibly easy to lose ourselves, fall to its temptations – I myself have a part of the abyss within me," the boy raised his voice, letting the blackness bleed out of him and seep through his skin, threatening to overwhelm him without the balancing force of White that he always used with it.

"But we have learned that the darkness can be defeated," Cai let his words become infused with magical resonance, and then released White mana to slowly begin to match his Black, the golden contrails orbiting around the left side of his body and bringing the chaotic and ambitious mana back under control, light and darkness blooming around him, "Although it can never truly be slain, it can be suppressed, crushed under the heel of order, righteousness and unity."

He drew his relic armament, the Sword of Glass's crystalline blade charged with his magic and lighting up with equal amounts of radiance and shade, and pointed it upwards, as the battling opposite forces around him reached a balance, and declared, "We know this from years of fighting against it as it pressed against us from all sides, we know this from the sacrifices our ancestors made so that we could be here today, we know this because despite all the death and misery it has caused to try and topple us, trying to force us to submit by corrupting those that we thought were our allies, friends and loving family members," he let a little scorn into his voice at the alluded mention of Johnias, "And turning them against us. No matter how hard it has tried, it has always failed. But the Welkalites have encountered a different type of darkness. We are assaulted from every angle as it conceals the light of the angels, and the darkness that we have to fight against is obvious, despite its subtlety and deception, however the Welkalites are fighting a losing battle against the evil from within. We have declared war on Welkas not just to avenge our fallen and to protect out own people, but to save them from that darkness inside of their hearts, and show them the light," he finished, shakily, though he felt quite a bit more confident than before, and glanced back down at the silent crowd.

Then suddenly, as if there was some sort of silent unanimous agreement, it exploded into noise, the soldiers below crying, "Ave lux! Ave Lux! AVE LUX!" over and over again, and Cai felt a single tear of relief and pride falling down his right cheek, interacting with the Black Sun in a small flash of golden light entirely eclipsed by the mixture of luminosity and gloom pulsating around him. He took a moment to bask in their adoration, holding his sword up straighter, and smiled.

Well that could have gone worse, his mind commented, and he was forced to agree with its assessment of the situation. He turned to the side, looking to see how his advisers and Hierarch Martha would respond, when his mouth gaped open. Cai dropped the microphone with an amplified thump that was drowned out by the exalted cries from soldiers all across the city, and his face went bright red, then deathly pale as he froze and stared at what he saw. The large scale mana communicators/broadcasters that he had previously thought were inactive were watching him through glinting lenses, recording his every word and movement. He saw himself reflected in the curved lenses of the broadcasters – he looked like a small rodent caught in the headlights of a monorail train that was about to be crushed into a pulp.

And that meant … he almost had a heart attack in the realisation that every single (although there were some that wouldn't be able to due to some duty or another, but his shocked mind failed to process that) soldier in the Kingdom of Light would have been listening to his speech. Cai shot off the stage, running past his advisers, who called out: "Caiellis, wait!" and ignoring them, swiftly casting his concealment spells and sprinting down the stairs and out of the Sola Atria, trying to ignore the pounding in his head that echoed the cries of "Ave lux!" that reverberated across the whole city.

.*.*.*.

Throughout the whole of Lucael, soldiers were inspired by the thoughtful words of the youngest Lucerna, and responded in a similar manner to the Scientia Mos legionnaires. The plazas of the Sola Atria, Cassa Atria, the newly constructed Gola Atria Secondus, and the mustering field outside of the Lucerna Palace – and many more locations – shook with cries of "Ave Lux!", a united roar of righteous fury and adulation of the Lucerna family.

Even after the littlest prince shot off the stage the second he noticed the broadcasters filming him, seen by everyone as their own versions projected the holographic image, and now simply showed an empty stage, the cries still resounded.

The Light-bearers of the capital city shared a knowing and proud glance, and then turned their eyes upon the king, whose eyes were shining with parental pride and a small smile split the man's austere face – he didn't overtly know about Caiellis's glossophobia, but had been able to infer it from how nervous his son seemed around people he didn't know and the fact that he himself had suffered from it at a similar age, much preferring to let his much more confident twin brother to just do the talking.

However, Caiellis had outdone himself, despite his hasty and terrified exit – Marik had winced in empathy when he saw how scared and small his little boy had looked when he had realised that he was being televised across the whole nation, though he was well aware that his youngest would never have agreed to it. Once again he wondered whether it was him that made Caiellis under perform or disobedient – it seemed that whenever his second son left his side, he excelled himself (apart from the incident with Aksua). He pushed the maudlin thoughts from his mind, and hoped that Elizabex and Leodred, the new advisers of his eldest, had had the foresight to answer the call from the Scientia Mos large scale communicators and wake up Alexander, though his eldest still needed to rest. He was incredibly proud of both of his sons, and knew that had Alex been able to give a speech it would have matched or even outclassed his little brother's.

Back in the room where the seventeen year old on the monarch's mind was located, the Montlea twins sat beside Alex's bed and smiled as they listened to the motivating speech that the shy little brother of their best friend delivered, and grinned at each other when they saw the middle prince's proud expression, which quickly changed to one of concern when his kid brother turned to look at the camera.

"Aww. Poor guy," Alex said, when the boy shot off the stage and left the broadcaster simply projecting an image of the illuminated space he had been in. Though the smaller mana communicators couldn't record or transmit images, they could still project some on their own screen, and his heart ached for his timid little sibling, wishing he could be there with him to congratulate the boy himself and hug him, make sure he was alright after the shock of discovering that he was being relayed throughout the whole nation. He was honestly very surprised that Cai would have agreed to speak in front of just the Scientia Mos legionnaires in the first place. He intended to call his little buddy later, when he had recovered from the upset, as knowing the younger boy he wouldn't answer the communiques in his distressed state.

.*.*.*.

"Prince Caiellis?" Jenna called out, back in the strategium of the Scia Atria. The room was silent and dark, apart from a small conjured light emanating from somewhere and the occasional flicking of pages alternating with stifled sniffles. The boy was definitely in here, though he didn't react at all to the call of his name, nor the fact that there were six people entering the room, or the lights being turned on in a whirring of mana components.

"Caiellis? We all know you are in here, so just come out of wherever you've hidden yourself," she stated, used to dealing with similar stunts from her own little sister, and she heard the prince clearing his throat, "Just leave me alone," he started, sadly, but then added with a bit more steel, "That's an order."

"We need to be sure of your safety before we leave, as is our duty as the Lucerna Guard," Lancalo offered, pre-empting Drax's words and cutting in prior to the younger man, "And for the record, we had no idea about the sudden change of plans to broadcast your speech."

"I'm fine," the boy responded, his voice coming from the centre of the room despite not being visible, so Jenna activated her mana sensing capabilities and used that to locate him, smirking when she did so, "So leave. Please, I just want to be on my own for a bit. Is it really that difficult?"

Jenna walked over to the table still stacked with papers that Caiellis had spent several hours analysing after visiting the academy in lieu of having any proper lunch, though it was the late afternoon now (she was starting to see why the Lucaelians were stereotyped as being a depressing people, as the eternal night really was saddening), and pulled out one of the chairs, glancing underneath the desk. Cai was laid there, the large and ornate book open though he had stopped reading it when the lights had turned on, and he glared at the Yentarian.

"You look comfortable down there," she commented mildly, as the boy bookmarked his book and wriggled his slender body out of the gaps between two chairs, taking the closed tome with him. He rose up to his full height on the opposite side of the table, pulled out another chair and sat down on it with a sigh. "As you can see, I am unharmed. Are you satisfied now? Can you leave?"

"Yes, Lord Caiellis," Drax replied, saluting smartly and leaving the room with the other praetorians trailing behind him, wanting to talk to the youngest prince but also not wishing to appear disobedient. Mysos lingered in the doorway as he turned around and noticed that Jenna hadn't moved an inch, still stood up next to the table.

"That applies to you as well," the youngster snapped, aiming the comment at the Yentarian as he wasn't yet aware Mysos was still in the room. He turned back to her when she didn't move, his voice starting off as a furious growl but then trailing off, "Are you incapable of understanding what "leave" means?" he sighed, "I'm sorry … it's just … I just want to be on my own for a bit … after that ..."

"That was a speech worthy of a Lucerna," Mysos put in, and the younger boy looked up at him, "Oh. I didn't realise that you were still in here as well. Come in then, Mysos, since Jenna refuses to leave so you may as well get comfortable."

"Thank you," the fifteen year old bowed his head and sat to the right of the slight prince, who was tempted to open his book again and simply block out the presence of the advisers. He knew he was being too emotional, so unconsciously reactivated his shell, the fortified gates clanging down over the emotions and by extension his wide and expressive green eyes. Jenna perceived the change instantly – it was just like when they were in the Capitalia Lux library, when King Marik had entered and Caiellis had shut his personality away.

"Did you not think to ask me whether or not I wanted to be broadcast across the entire kingdom or not?" he suddenly asked, and though his voice was mostly blank and dejected it carried a slight hint of accusation. Before Mysos could respond, Jenna cut in, saying: "Firstly, muscle-head there had no part in this, so don't blame him. We couldn't ask you because you were already wrapped up in your speech, and Hierarch Martha asked me then."

"So it was her plan," he mused, and then added, "However, did it not occur to you that I could have easily screwed up halfway into the address, or froze and not said anything else? What if I'd have looked over at the broadcasters just as they activated, and the only thing projected was an image of me looking pathetic? You and the Hierarch's little stunt could have shamed me in front of the entire kingdom, Jenna. It was bad enough that I was possessed by enough naiveté and stupidity to offer to do the address in the first place, and I almost didn't say anything."

"Your father thought it was a good idea," she replied. Well I expected as much. I already knew he had something to do with it, otherwise the broadcast would never have been authorised. Of course he would think it would be a good idea, because he doesn't know anything about me, the boy thought, acidity colouring the introspection, as Jenna expanded upon her former points,

"And I could see the benefits of it. Firstly, I could tell that you were already trying to stand up to your fears by volunteering to speak originally, so the realisation that you had spoken in front of the entirety of Lucael without panicking or freezing up would come as a pleasant surprise. And secondly, sharing that speech with almost every soldier going to war would have inspired them immensely, and will have huge benefits in the battles to come. Not just because of the words, but also due to who was speaking them: the youngest Lucerna, Caiellis, the small and young prince that has the hated something or other inside of you that gives you Black mana, someone that the kingdom overall was undecided upon at any rate. It would have both motivated them and improved how you appeared in their eyes. And anyway, I am sorry, but I personally think it was worth it."

"I suppose," he acceded sullenly, "But I'm still annoyed at you, Hierarch Martha and dad. Whatever."

A sudden beeping sound cut through the silence that had descended, and Cai let out a long and frustrated exhalation before retrieving the mana communicator in his pocket, really not in the mood to talk to any of his family. He answered the call with a pulse of mana, "Dad."

"Caiellis," the man responded, just as coldly, before letting some enthusiasm and delight inflect his voice, "You have made me so proud to be your father today. I don't think you truly understand the effect you've had on the soldiers. I can still hear them chanting now."

"That's nice," Cai robotically inserted into the small gap Marik left for him to respond, though the man seemed not to have heard, as he carried on just as joyfully, "You've definitely proved yourself today, my boy. To think, you are still only thirteen years of age – angels above, I would have never even considered doing something like that, despite your grandfather's insistence (Cai assumed rightly that he was talking about the late King Garius II, not Percival Noctis). Am I right in saying that you suffer from social anxiety?"

How perceptive of you, Cai's mind voice spat, but he replied with a simple, "Yes."

"I was the same when I was your age," his father said, to which Caiellis thought, Maybe something similar, but I doubt it was the same. Additionally, if you knew that, then why did you authorise the general broadcast? Would you not be able to tell that it was hard enough for me in the first place?

The youngest prince found his mind subconsciously beginning to blame his father for the events – true, Hierarch Martha and by extension Jenna had orchestrated them, but they didn't know him as well as his father supposedly did, though the youngster found himself doubting that exponentially more every time he spoke to him. But the fact remained that if Marik had been in a similar situation in his youth, and could empathise and sympathise with his youngest son, all it would have required was the king thinking, Right, surely Cai is already trying to face his fears, and could easily fail – this is hard enough already, so I probably should just leave him with that to prevent the possibility of him humiliating himself in front of everyone. Evidently he had been hoping for too much if he ever thought dad would be that sympathetic.

"This is fantastic. You certainly confronted and defeated your fears today," Cai could picture the smile on his face, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel slightly proud that he had earned his father's congratulations, as although the man had been putting a lot more effort into reminding his sons that he loved them because of almost losing them, Caiellis was certain that once he got over shock of Alexander almost dying then unless he consciously carried on Marik would stop. He then registered that the not quite companionable silence had been stretching out, while he had no idea as for how long it had, so inquired, "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Why? Should I have said anything else?" dad returned in mild surprise, wondering if this was Cai's way of asking for further orders or clarification upon existing ones.

Sorry for potentially shaming you in front of the subjects you may one day rule over? Sorry for almost crushing your already broken arm yesterday? Sorry for shouting at you over Alex's wounding when all I had to do was stay calm and admonish you? Sorry for not listening to your worries before the negotiations in the Scholaria Magnus? Sorry for sending you away after talking to you properly a total of once?

Sorry for putting you under so much pressure that you felt like killing yourself because there was a possibility that that was the only way you could complete the trial was perfectly acceptable, and better than living on under the stress of constant failure? Sorry for degrading your already abysmal self-esteem enough that instead of feeling like you could talk to someone and share your worries, you felt that sudden and stinging pain was the only thing that could alleviate the crushing feeling?

There's an awful lot you could say, but I'm not deluded enough to expect it from you.

"Goodbye, dad. It's been nice talking to you," he mumbled, though both knew he really didn't mean the words, and the earlier statement suddenly made sense in the monarch's head, though too late, "Caiellis, wait. I'm-"

Cai ended the call, withdrawing the power he was supplying the device with that allowed it to answer his father's call. Another beeping sound resounded throughout the room, before he manually deactivated the device and passed it to a stunned looking Jenna, who said, "Wow. That was mean of you."

Maybe, Caiellis pondered – his dad had tried to be nice, and he had just thrown that back in his face, but he wouldn't be telling the truth if he said that silencing Marik hadn't come with a burst of empowerment and satisfaction. Besides, he would be seeing him soon anyway, though his army would be attacking an outpost and another force before meeting up with the main one for the siege of Usnaan.

---

New Summonings in the chapter:

Guardian Weiss: Empyrial Archangel

Serena Caelum: Emeria Angel

Ciaran Benelis: Baneslayer Angel

Decia Amorae: Griffin Dreamfinder

Dolor Vincula: Windreaver