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.

26. Dustswept Interlude

"Freya? What are you doing here?" Annia's amused but also slightly irritated voice broke the peaceful silence in one of the many secluded glades scattered throughout the Scholaria Magnus island, making the Erian girl sigh in annoyance before removing that from her mind. She had just wanted to be alone for a little while, listening to the voices of the trees instead of those of her fellow students in Year One, although with a quarter of the pupils gone the academy seemed deserted and lonely.

The plant spirits had been speaking to her, telling her of a great darkness that was to come, but Freya hadn't been able to deduce any more than that, though not because information was being concealed – the forest sprites and sylphs simply didn't know enough to tell her more than that. Freya missed the Deep Forest, where the natural beauty was never ending and just as deadly as it was magnificent, but unlike many of the other of the Conclave Freya thought that all of nature was beautiful in its own unique way, despite nowhere in the rest of Magnus-Primae having the same primal grandeur of the Deep Forest.

The message of the plant spirits was ominous, and left Freya feeling scared and frightened for the world's safety, but as she had no knowledge to act upon there was nothing she could do. Freya had been a rarity in the families of her tribe – an only child – but then again her parents had been killed in raids by an opposing tribe seven years before she was selected by the mysterious shamans to join their ranks a year prior to her enrolment at the Scholaria, when she had been fourteen.

She thought back to the day she had been adopted by her uncle, the chieftain of the Oak's Blessing Ruruc Sajai, her tearful seven year old self dearly missing her parents. Her uncle and his wife had always been kind to her, but she had been set apart from her three foster siblings because of the fact that she wasn't in line to inherit leadership of the tribe.

Freya's older cousin/brother Jalek had been kind and nurturing but also ignored her when it suited him and her only just elder sister Salek had seemed to resent having a sister of the same age as her and so had often tried to bully Freya, seeing her as some sort of rival. Finally her little brother Talek had always been pleasant, but shy, and had never really talked to her one to one, as both appeared nervous around other people and tried to avoid them. He had been an enigmatic boy, and Freya had repeatedly got the impression that he knew far more than he had let on about the world – that had been why when the shamans had arrived at the Oak's Blessing, she had been convinced that Talek would be taken by them, and not her, but then again her magic was powerful and that was why they had chosen her.

Despite her cousins not being her actual brothers and sister, she still missed them as she hadn't seen them in over a year. She wondered whether the village was still there, or if it had been attacked by other rival tribes or destroyed by behemoths or other primal forces of nature. Talek had been the only person in her tribe that she had truly wanted to talk to and learn more about, since her youngest cousin was the only member of her family younger than her, but had never got the chance. Other than him, she disliked talking to others because she was extremely bad at social situations and often got embarrassed, her cheeks lighting up unbidden and her voice stammering.

That was why she liked being alone, with the plants and the animals. As she was a nature mage, she could communicate with many living creatures, both of Sancturia and the material plane, although within the Deep Forest the line blended. Her mentor had once mentioned an old tale of his tribe (that ironically had been wiped out by her own), where if one was to wander in the Deep Forest then they could walk between the worlds, and that the two planes crossed over each other very often within the jungle.

"I was just..." Freya started nervously, before stopping, not really wanting to have to explain herself to Annia. It was lunch-time, and the sunlight was beaming through the gaps in the canopy of trees that would seem huge to those who hadn't lived inside of the Deep Forest. She turned around, just as the Yentarian sat next to her, holding out a couple of sandwiches that she had evidently purchased from the academy café, and offering one to the Erian girl.

Freya would have respectfully declined, not feeling particularly hungry even after a morning of practising man generation, but that would have required words and Annia would have insisted anyway, the girl as stubborn and fickle as she was intelligent. It was quiet, as now that Kaled and Caiellis had gone there was no customary bickering between the Welkalite and Yentarian, and she bit into the sandwich. The flavours of tomato and some sort of meat – probably from the oxen that grazed outside of the school grounds – rolled down her tongue, and she sighed sadly.

"Is there something wrong?" Annia inquired, chomping loudly on her own sandwich and adjusting her hair – Freya was sure that she wore something different every day, and then reminded herself that because Annia's clothing was made out of a magically-attuned fabric it could be moulded into whatever shape she desired. Freya didn't really care how she looked, knowing that intricate and complicated clothing would just distract her from communicating with the earth, but Annia seemed to be … not obsessed, but preoccupied by her appearance.

Nonetheless, whatever outfit Annia chose always struck her as pertaining to the situation – when the news that Caiellis and his older brother had been abducted spread across the school despite the efforts of the teachers to curtail the wild rumours that had been circulating, in the assembly that explained events she had worn a simple dress of more muted colours than the usual bright and scintillating hues Annia regularly wore. When the Lucaelians were pulled out she had adopted a similar attire, but one slightly more colourful as to not be entirely mournful.

Now she was wearing a short sleeved shirt and a relatively short, black skirt that had a dotted pattern of the occasional turquoise speckle that Freya thought was a bit ridiculous but must have been fashionable in Yentar, or the city of Notoshi which Annia had come from, so eager to talk about so many things despite the fact that her roommate rarely knew about what she was discussing.

"Freya? Are you ok?" the girl asked again, after she had finished the mouthful she had been eating, and the Erian shaman in training turned to her. The Yentarian was one of those people that seemed to be uncomfortable with silence, often interjecting words to try and break the quiet – but then again, Freya couldn't empathise because she constantly had the background hum of nature and life in the back of her mind. She would be more than uneasy if that stopped, so couldn't really blame Annia from disliking the stillness.

"I'm fine," Freya replied, her voice quiet and soft, wishing she could be more confident with human beings. Although some of her fellow students had tried to talk to her, Annia was the only one that hadn't given up after she didn't respond adequately enough for the few that had tried's liking.

"It's lonely, isn't it?" Annia mused, but whether she expected a response or was just speaking the rhetorical question out loud was beyond Freya, who was just content to eat her meal in silence. Annia rolled her eyes amusedly at the nervous Erian, and continued since the girl was unlikely to speak, "Without the Lucaelians, I mean. And with the boys of Team 3 gone, you know? I miss them both, even that irritating knuckle-head Kaled. I never realised how much I enjoyed arguing with him. And Cai … well, we never did really get to know him very well, did we? I would have liked to learn more about him..." she cut off, blushing and turning away from the Erian, who fortunately didn't know anything about social nuances to realise that she was embarrassed.

"It's amazing how much you miss things when they are gone, but don't register it when they are there," she finished, more confidently, and Freya murmured, "That's because they are still there."

"Thanks," Annia muttered sarcastically, laughing when the Erian looked ashamedly at the floor, "I meant you don't realise the amount you will miss something. Take my arguments with Kaled, for example. At the time, I found them annoying and the fact that he just refused to accept my logic or ideas despite them being clearly superior to his quite vexing, but now that I can't do that anymore I kind of yearn for it."

"Well, at least as far as we know they are both alright," Annia mentioned when a pregnant pause had settled, "My big sister is actually an advisor for Caiellis, which is unprecedented in the Kingdom of Light, but they are fighting a war against the Welkalites. I spoke to her before finding you, and they had just liberated the city of Jeksaan. I feel sorry for Cai, having all those burdens on his shoulders despite being two years younger than us both. They did escape from Welkas though, but something apparently did happen to Prince Alexander, however Jenna wasn't sure what. He's supposedly fine now. And we both know that Kaled is going to help the Resistance against the Orders of Passion that have taken over Welkas. They had kept that hidden well, but with the abduction of our friends and the news that has spread from the Sartorius Gomor scandal a couple of days ago they couldn't do so any longer. Both Cai and Kaled are fighting to free the people of Welkas, in their different ways. I feel useless here, you know?"

"You wish that you could be helping them," Freya said, and Annia looked surprised, as if having forgotten that she was actually talking to another human because of the girl's quiet manner. The Yentarian then asked, "Yeah. Don't you? They are out there, making a difference, while we are stuck here attending lessons. Now I've never complained about learning before, and I know that by being here we are being taught how to make the future a better place, I just wish that the benefits were more instant, and measurable. The scientist in me wants some evidence, and I can't provide it with anything."

"Maybe just by supporting your sister you are making a difference," Freya suggested, figuring that she should be trying to talk to Annia because of the amount of effort the other girl put into attempting to become her friend – and helping her out with maths, as Freya was admittedly awful at it having never had to do more than addition, subtraction, multiplication and division back in the Conclave. "If Jenna is advising Caiellis, and you encourage and reassure her, then you could be indirectly helping Cai and the entire war effort of the Lucaelians."

"I didn't think of it like that," Annia grinned, "Thanks, Freya."

The girl smiled shyly at the Yentarian, glad to have been of some help, and then something clicked inside of her head – maybe the corruption of Welkas had something to do with the darkness the plants had been warning her about. According to Annia, who had been told it by Jenna, as the older Yentarian had been present at the kidnapping, the Lucaelian king, Cai's father, had mentioned the Welkalite representatives utilising demon magic. Gaean had once told her that he despised demons because of how they tried to change the natural order and place themselves at the top, using the magic of death exclusively – something that was abhorred by Erians, as while some shamans used Green and Black mana none just utilised the latter.

She wondered if any in her tribe, or her old mentor, knew about this, and whether or not it was something to worry about or if its would just pass and nature would endure. Freya hoped that her adopted family was still alive, as she wanted to see them all again – especially Talek, who she realised was quite similar to Caiellis.

Maybe, if everything died down and the nations became more open with each other – as currently the only one that shared information was the Yentarian Republic, and the Erian still got the impression that several facets of that were hidden from the rest of the world, more so because Annia had informed her that the Republic was made up of many different factions spread across their territory that only appeared unified when interacting with the rest of the world – then she would get her youngest cousin and the prince to meet each other.

She soon dismissed the ridiculous thought – there was no way that a Lucaelian prince would be allowed inside the Deep Forest, by both the Kingdom of Light and the Erian Conclave, and even so it would require locating the Oak's Blessing. Besides, Talek might not even be alive anymore, so there was that to consider.

Freya now fully understood why the Erians had always sequestered themselves inside the forest, away from the negotiations with the rest of the world. It was because the other nations started wars, and were greedy for more power, disrupting the natural flow of things in their own insatiable lust for dominance.

.*.*.*.

Ilentia suppressed a hacking cough when she entered the centre Tower of Ecstasy, the Red and Black mana seeping out of the soaring golden cylindrical structure hinting at the debaucheries committed within. It was midday outside, but instead of the baleful red orb of the sun glaring down at Usnaan a dark, dry storm was gathering overhead, one of not entirely natural origin. She could feel Arrapackxia writhing within her, the demon's lust to feed accentuated by this unnatural tempest as well as what was on display in the room she had just walked into, and mentally silenced him.

Ilentia could hear the occasional thunderous boom in the distance, and while Tradax had revealed that this thunderstorm was part of his "grand plan" the Master of Gluttony hadn't been able to glean any more than that titbit of information about what the "Archlord" (as Tradax had ordered that he be referred to as that, to elevate himself above the Masters as he took command of the Empire in the war) of Rapture was planning. The man was not anywhere near a military strategist, and his plan consisted of simply defending Usnaan against attack instead of actively assaulting the trespassing Lucaelian legions, as she would have done, although the forces of King Marik seemed more than happy to oblige, annihilating the first opposing armies that Tradax had placed to delay them in their path to Usnaan. Both sides seemed happy for the entire war to be decided at the Welkalite capital.

At any rate, the storm outside was obscuring the sun and made it feel like night time instead of noon. Not that the time of day had ever stopped the wealthy Welkalites from indulging, however the vast majority of events – such as the Slaughter Games in the bloodsport arenas located in the Champion's Quarter and the Emperor's Banquet (a name supposedly mocking the old tyrants, who would throw the banquet for themselves at specific dates, as when they had been overthrown the exotic and rare food had been gorged upon by the masses after they went wild in the wake of the Revolution, before to the establishment of the Orders of Passion. Now the Emperor's Banquet took place whenever the Master of Gluttony felt like it (so far Ilentia hadn't yet organised one) or on the anniversary of the death of the Last Tyrant) in her own Glutton's Quarter, took place in the evening.

A blast of light, noise and intoxicating incense washed over Ilentia as she stepped further into the lower floor, adjusting the scarlet masquerade mask she wore so that it would block any more of the hallucinogenic gas from entering her system – although the effects of the burnt Desert Rose would only induce light-headedness and heighten the dazzling display put on by the Orders of Rapture and Entertainment, not reduce Ilentia to a state of vegetated enrapture like some of the more potent narcotics, unlike almost every attendant of the party she wanted her mind to be clear.

Blaring lights of many alternating colours illuminated the interior with spasmodically flashing beams that pierced the visible fog of the hallucinogenics, and a masked band played a loud and obtrusive tune in the background that would be augmented by the scent of the Desert Rose. Even over the music, Ilentia could still occasionally hear the orgiastic moaning from a couple to her right – one was a guest with his identity concealed by a mask of a similar design to the Master of Gluttony's, while his partner was quite clearly a Rapture whore who didn't look to be enjoying himself quite as much as his customer – in spite of the fact that Ilentia had only just entered the building and it would be the concealed sections in some of the tiered floors above that would be more fitting for acts such as this.

There were many attractions on offer to the masked crowd – one of the tenets of Rapture was that all were equal in the pursuit of pleasure, irrespective of rank and identity, and while that was extremely ironic not to mention incredibly hypocritical it was still adhered to, and every one of the invited attendees wore masks that did little to hide their identities. Ilentia recognised aristocrats, military officers and prominent members of the Orders of Passion, their eyes wide at the display Tradax had put on, despite the fact that the darkest desires would be catered to upstairs. It was said that the vast majority of other Orders had stopped their customary display of indulgences and entertainment to furnish this banquet party further, and that even the major Slaughterhouse Colosseum had been closed for the Address of the Archlord, as the event had been called, an incredibly vain title if Ilentia had ever heard one.

The interior of the huge building was hollow, in that apart from the ground and uppermost floors the tiers had huge spaces in the middle, where the Welkalites could look down at those below them and participate in the numerous diversions on each of the annulus floors. To her right, a crowd of hypnotised guests were dazed by a long limbed and undeniably beautiful lightning-dancer from the Order of Entertainment, the woman spinning at a ridiculous speed as pink electricity crackled around her, but all Ilentia could think of was how that could be applied in combat.

Directly across from her, an audience of the rich and influential that had been invited jeered as a man, one of those that Ilentia recognised as having captured when she had visited Iesaan and hunted down the cells of Resistance hidden there a day ago, was torn apart by a shrieking reptilian beast from the wastelands that had evidently originally been a foe for Violence gladiators, splattering blood and gore over the screaming throng. The creature snapped its jaws around the man's almost-naked body, and chomped down, ending his life.

Ilentia rolled her eyes. When she had petitioned (as Tradax always liked to know what she was doing, his paranoia making every move that she made seem to him like her newest servant was trying to usurp him) the Archlord of Rapture to go and kill the more active Resistance of Iesaan, as by carefully analysing their moves she was certain that she had located their stronghold, Tradax had insisted that she take prisoners instead of killing them all, and as the rebels didn't employ the teleportation that had allowed the Ja'an Guard to escape her wrath she had done so. It apparently should have brought on a sense of pride that those she had captured were serving as entertainment for others, but the sight of the creature savagely murdering the man didn't instill Ilentia with any emotion at all, positive or negative.

She thought that it was strange that she felt nothing, as here Ilentia was one of the most influential members of a society based entirely on the pleasure of sensation, and everyone else in the room was enraptured by the admittedly impressive Order performances, but the only thing Ilentia could think was that she would rather not be here.

A lean, tanned and slender man walked over to her side, clad only in in a strip of fabric that covered his genital region and an elaborately fluted but brutally spiked pauldron that dug into his left shoulder. The member of the Order of Rapture held a serrated chain that could easily be used to efficiently but still painfully dismember opponents, especially if it was enchanted with crackling lightning that would infuse the blades with cutting power and amplify the pain caused, sending shuddering bolts of electricity down the nervous system of the chosen victim. The man barred her further entrance to the Tower of Ecstasy, crossing his arms and letting the barbed chain curl maliciously to the left of him like a coiled serpent, eschewing words since only a shout would be able to be heard from the clamouring music.

Ilentia scowled from beneath her mask and pulled out the golden and ornate envelope that she had inelegantly torn open (though she knew that many of the more minor nobles and officials would treasure the genuine packaging from the famed Archlord of Rapture himself just as much as the content inside, carefully opening the wrapper as to not damage it), letting the exotically garbed Rapture Enforcer verify the validity of her invitation.

The man quickly bowed his head and held out the letter when he read the identity of the guest – news of her ascension to the leadership of the Order of Gluttony had spread like wildfire, according to her subordinates, although as stated by one of her lieutenants many of the public believed that she would be better off leading the Order of Violence due to her military success and disinclination to indulge in monumental amounts of food. Ilentia couldn't agree more with the people, but Tradax – the one who had orchestrated her dark revival on a whim – had instated her as the Master of Gluttony, and she wasn't about to question that.

She took the letter off the man, returning it back inside the pocket of her extremely outlandish and extravagant dress that Tradax had gifted her with – it may have fit her figure perfectly, but it certainly didn't fit her mindset, and Ilentia thought she looked far too ridiculous in the laced fabric. Though it was a ludicrous proposal, as she had already driven the Resistance from the sewers of the capital, Ilentia silently hoped that someone would take the opportunity to attack the Tower of Ecstasy with all of the noteworthy members of the New Empire that could make it held within the glittering spire. Then she would be able to tear off the ostentatious garment and lead the defence.

Ilentia quickly strode through the crowds, silently examining everything whilst simultaneously paying no attention whatsoever to it. A pair of hysterically laughing Blade Dancers eviscerated a selection of cowering and screaming prisoners, hacking apart their naked bodies in artistically pleasing displays of crimson vitae, and an anxious servant obstructed her path further, holding out a platter filled with a plethora of glasses containing multitudes of different liquids, some of which would be heavily alcoholic or infused with other perception-altering drugs, whilst others were simply sweet juices. Ilentia declined with a wave of her gloved hand, and the servant shuffled away before bumping into a pampered-looking young (judging by his voice) nobleman that turned around in fury, the pupils of his brown eyes heavily dilated.

He sneered at the quaking woman, who looked pale and was most likely of Lucaelian origin, presumably one of the civilians captured in the rare raids on the Kingdom of Light that had steadily increased in frequency over the course of the last few years until the Scholaria Magnus negotiations and the seizure of the young princes (who Ilentia thought should have been put to the sword (or killed in any of the more "entertaining" ways available to the City of Pleasure) the second they were apprehended, and couldn't understand Tradax's motives for not doing so) and the subsequent declaration of war from King Marik.

Ilentia personally believed that Tradax was grossly underestimating the Lucaelians – she herself having analysed several of the crushing defeats suffered in pitched battles at the hand of their legions, and now with the annihilation of the delaying forces Tradax had placed in their path to Usnaan, but only time would tell.

"You, wretch," the man snarled, his eyes alight with atavistic hunger, and the undoubtedly attractive young woman tried to slink away into the crowd before the man grabbed her. Ilentia remembered seeing some of the slaves, their eyes full of defiance and hatred, being escorted by the Gluttony Enforcers into her Gourmand's Mansion, and knew that their souls would be broken soon enough – here was a clear example of this, "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

"No, my lord," the woman grovelled, bowing down to the man and kissing his feet, and Ilentia growled. The two were blocking her path, and she needed to get out of the crowd and be stood at Tradax's side before he addressed the crowd. She roughly shoved the quivering servant out of the man's grasp so that she could pass through, and then felt a hot and fleshy hand grab onto the laced sleeves of her arm.

"Who do you think you are?" the man demanded, gurgling and quite obviously severely drunk in spite of the fact that the main celebrations would come after the Archlord's speech, and so probably wouldn't remember the events. Ilentia pulled down her mask ever so slightly, just to expose her fiery red eyes still locked in their dark defiance and primal need for survival, and the man rocked back as if slapped, knowing even in his drunken stupor that of he wanted to survive the night then he should back away. He let go of her, looking for the slave that he had had his grubby paws on, but by now the poor Lucaelian had slipped back into the masses of people.

Ilentia carried on, aiming for one of the flamboyant vermilion and yellow staircases that lead up to the floors above, as Tradax wanted to speak to his subordinates from there despite not yet being situated there, as there was no one yet lounging on the magisterial replica of the Emperor's throne that the Archlord of Rapture had created (the original being torn apart by Jarred Redhand after his duel with the Last Tyrant, breaking it in half in front of the gathered crowd) and was overlooking the gatherings of nobles in all the floors before. That suggested that Tradax would be stood somewhere upstairs, most likely partaking in pointless pleasantries with some of his more esteem guests – such as the Masters of Violence or Wealth.

She quickly ascended the staircase, the dress impeding her feline grace and making her movements much less elegant, so at a whim she went into one of the private sections reserved for those wanting to participate in passionate coupling with another without interruption, and resisted the urge to tear the garment to shreds, instead emerging with it still on as she knew that Tradax wanted her to wear it and that her continued life could rest on his shoulders.

She stepped onto the second floor, a much darker tier with many sat around gambling tables as Ilentia could smell the scent of roasting meat that she would have found mouth-watering in an earlier life drifting in from an open door to the right, where members of her own Order would be preparing the main meals. Her eyes scanned the crowd for Tradax, and instead they met with blue orbs that were filled with passion and lust that quickly turned to dismay as they locked with her own. The two whores leaning either side of the pudgy man as he sank dejectedly into his chair giggled quietly, one of them climbing up and sitting on his right shoulder whilst the other massaged his left.

The mask in the style of a tusked boar (fitting, Ilentia thought) did little to conceal the identity of another morbidly obese Welkalite belonging to the Order of Gluttony, but this one had possessed a very special link with Ilentia in her former life – the man, Otio Wranion, was her little brother, though in his corpulent twenty-three year old body he wasn't very little any more compared to his lithe and slender older sister. She had spoken to him a total of once after her dark revival, when her memories of Guena Wranion's life started to flow back to her in fragments of remembrance, and casually informed her two years younger brother – apparently her only sibling – that the Guena he had known had died and that she was no longer related to him.

Ilentia could recall some things, but not others, and remembered looking after the boy when they were both starving youths, managing to find them a job in the famed Banquet Street as extremely low paid cleaners, eight and six at the time.

Their parents had died in the days following the Revolution, when the streets ran red with blood and the crazed civilians – not all of the civilians, though - finally free from the yoke of oppression, had gone wild and indulged in every hedonistic act they had ever thought about in their wildest dreams as society crumbled around them.

Ilentia and Otio (who had been a skinny youth and would have grown to be tall and spindly if he hadn't have followed his sister into the Order of Gluttony) had been adopted for a short while when Redhand restored order, but after the man's wife and daughters were assassinated (even now, after all this time, no one knew who the culprit was for that) and (admittedly more structured) chaos reigned again their foster parents were forced to abandon them on the streets in order to pay the taxes the Wealth Enforcers set.

She had plotted and schemed, even at the age of eight, rising through the ranks of cleaners and then becoming a waitress, gaining the favour of one of the patrons of the Order – Ershun Firefist – who would later become the Master seven years ago and propel her through the ranks, with her little brother always trailing behind. They had once sat together in the light of the evening sun, talking about their dreams of eating the delicious-looking food that they served to the customers of the prestigious restaurant that they were forbidden from touching, and she had promised her younger sibling that she would get them into the Order of Gluttony and that they would never have to eat the scraps they subsisted on again.

Her memories told her that they had been very close, even after she had ascended quickly through the ranks of the order and he had clung onto her success to propel himself as well, and that just before the night of her dark revival they had eaten together and Otio was very proud (if slightly envious) of her achieving mastery. If only he had known what was going to happen to Guena, then maybe he wouldn't have been so quick to congratulate and encourage.

She glowered from behind her mask, which was designed like a graceful but deadly predatory bird of prey, and her brother paled, but there was nothing on this floor for her.

As she began to walk towards the next set of stairs, a triumvirate of tanned and muscular men intoxicated by some sort of drug languidly beckoned in her direction, but Ilentia had lost her sexual taste when she had been resurrected by Tradax. In fact, it seemed like she had lost her taste for everything but killing, and even that wasn't as satisfying as Guena had found it.

It was unfitting for a Master of Passion not to be addicted to indulgence, but if Ilentia was honest it wouldn't be how she would spend her life if she didn't have her responsibilities to Tradax. She wasn't exactly sure what she would do, but knew that it wasn't this. The only thing presently on her agenda was continuing to live, and she briefly wondered if she was actually capable of any other thoughts due to Tradax freezing her mind in the instant of near-death. That meant serving Tradax, because she didn't know if he could simply snap his fingers and life would leave her body because she had technically been reanimated by him.

Walking onto the third floor, she swept her eyes across the debaucheries happening, but when she saw Tradax she walked straight towards him, ignoring the unspeakable acts committed next to her, not that she abhorred it, she just wasn't interested.

"Ahh, Ilentia! Do come over, my dear," Tradax exclaimed, his eyes full of merriment coupled with dark narcissism, turning from the guests he had been idly talking to and towards the mana presence of the Master of Gluttony. As befitting of his station as the host of the gathering, the Archlord of Rapture was bereft of a mask, his filed teeth glinting in the overhead lights and his face twisted in a smile. Ilentia obeyed silently, bowing her head in deference to Tradax whilst locating the positions of the Masters of Wealth and Violence, an easy enough task as in her mind's eye they showed up as blots of Black mana, much life herself and the Archlord.

The former was dazzling other guests with the amount of money he was wasting in the gambling tables (although there were less here than the floor below), and wore a mask made out of pure gold and platinum, like the headpieces of the sarcophagi that had held the corpses of the dead royal family, before they had been dug up and looted as the public pillaged the Palace of Desire. However, it was not the most absurdly wasteful and conspicuous outfit she had seen Eras Stormwind wear, but then again Tradax had probably forbidden it in fear of the Master of Wealth usurping his position as the "star of the show".

One would be forgiven for thinking that because of its name, the Order of Wealth was the Order that least represented Red mana qualities, such as acting on impulse and being filled with passion, but that was only if one thought of it as a simple bank where coins were counted and filed away. No, the Wealth part of the Order was just a means to an end, and the Augur's Quarter was just as hedonistic as the Hedonist's Quarter, it was just that the luxuries on offer required a tremendous expenditure of wealth.

Eras was only nineteen but quite clearly insane, and although he was a pampered youth that had inherited the role from his aunt it could never be said that he didn't run his Order with brutal efficiency and an utter lack of empathy for the poor that made the Empire very rich. He liked his pleasures unusual and strange, but when he could throw money at the providers until they gave him what he wanted then no one was in a position to question him.

Arendus Draal was masked by his habitual brass gladiator's mask, which amused Ilentia slightly, and the brute was stood to the side of the gathering with a group of baying and posturing important members of the Order of Violence, ignoring his squabbling subordinates as they picked fights with each other in their attempt to seem the strongest and glaring at the Master's back jealously and instead staring intently at the numerous pit fights far below. The muscled giant could be perceived as stoic, as he rarely said anything, but Ilentia knew that was false and in her former life had seen Arendus in one of his battle rages at a special Slaughterhouse event when fighting against a captured Erian beast.

Tradax draped a spindly arm that was swathed within his robes over Ilentia's slender shoulders, the woman repressing a flinch at the touch, and gently turned her towards those he was talking to. Ilentia recognised the lightning-blue eyes of Enforcer-General Fraetus Etin underneath a mask modelled in emulation of some sort of Unbound electrical beast smothering a glare directed in her direction, and the Master of Gluttony allowed herself a small smirk. Fraetus was an older woman of about forty, with two children (one of which had gone to the Scholaria Magnus and was still there now), but had lost favour with the public due to her failures in finding the Resistance with her Enforcers, which in turn had made Ilentia more popular when she succeeded in the task.

"I don't believe you two have been formally introduced yet. Fraetus, meet Ilentia, the new Master of Gluttony. Ilentia, this is Fraetus Etin, the Enforcer-General outside of the Orders" Tradax said, his voice sibilant and manipulative, and Fraetus held out her hand for Ilentia to shake, the general's grip hard and her hatred of Ilentia evident underneath her thin smile. An Enforcer from the Order of Rapture coughed to get the Archlord's attention, kneeling behind the man, and quietly said something in his ear when Tradax leaned down. Tradax's eyes widened in anticipation and mild surprise, and he politely excused himself and walked over to a space outside of the crowd, Ilentia ignoring the general and turning to watch the Archlord, who waved at someone who shouted his name in praise before turning to a figure that the Master of Gluttony couldn't identify under her mask.

She was relatively small, and wore a red kimono speckled with black spots and a bone-white mask in the shape of a fox, and didn't bow before the Archlord like many others had done, or in any way show respect. Curious, Ilentia thought, before a sharp pain erupted at the back of her mind, an explosive revelation of hidden memories that thrust themselves to the forefront of her brain, superimposing itself in front of her natural sight.

She saw a room full of dismembered dead bodies, the blood leaking out of numerous precisely inflicted cuts, like a whirlwind of surgical steel had swept through the room. She looked down at her hands, small and fragile like a little girl's, and recalled that she had been ten years old at the time of the incident. The corpses, many influential members of the Order of Gluttony that had convened in the Redhand's Repose restaurant that Guena worked in and had been given access to its most magnificent upper gallery, stared accusingly up at her, and the girl dropped the tray of drinks she had been carrying, the ornate crystal glass shattering on the carpeted magenta floor and spilling their exotic contents across it, where the multi-coloured liquids mixed with the pooling blood.

Guena looked up, trying to hold in the bile that threatened to burst out of her stomach and gagging as she did so, and a figure sat on one of the crystalline chandeliers stared back at the girl, cleaning the blood from her elegant short-sword. Eyes like jewels regarded the ten year old with curiosity and sorrow and peeked out from a bone-white mask shape like a wolf's face, and the woman placed a slender finger to her lips before jumping out of the already smashed window of the upper gallery and disappearing into the night time Usnaan.

Guena had held it in until that point, and then screamed in panic just as a smaller boy ran up the spiral staircase leading into the room.

"Guena! What's wrong?!" Otio shouted, panic and fear lacing his eight year old voice as his older sister shrieked in terror at the gruesome scene in front of her, but even in her hysterical state the urge to protect her innocent little brother was still strong and she pushed him away before he could get past and see the slaughter.

Ilentia frowned as the memory receded, noticing that she had inadvertently begun to clutch the side of her head, and tried to make her way over to Tradax and the fox-woman, but the crowd undulated against her. When she next saw the two, the mysterious woman that had murdered all of Ilentia's original employers many years ago had disappeared, and Tradax's brow was furrowed in consternation.

"Who was she, my lord?" she asked respectfully, coming to the man's side, and Tradax smiled, "Just one of my many agents and informants, my dear. Nothing you need concern yourself with. Now, I think its about time that I begin the address."

He strode past her, and Ilentia detected a tinge of fear in his eyes before the man crushed it. Seeing the Archlord begin to ascend to his throne to begin his speech, both Eras and Arendus began to walk towards her, the first giving her a tiny wave whilst the other ignored her. She followed Tradax up to the uppermost floor, watching as the various spotlights began to drift away from the carnival of rapture and the music began to die down as he placed himself in the ornate and baroque replica throne.

As his new right hand, Ilentia took her place to that side of him whilst Eras stood at his left and Draal towered behind him – amusingly the hulking Master of Violence looked as if he was resisting the temptation to strangle the increasingly arrogant Tradax. She briefly pondered why Arendus had ever agreed to the pacts that the Archlord of Rapture and the previous occupant of her role had invoked with the demons in order to topple the past Masters of Passion, but assumed it had just been for power – likewise, despite detesting the gladiator Tradax and Ershun would have needed the extra power he provided to truly overthrow the leaders of their respective Orders.

If Arendus executed such an action, Ilentia didn't honestly know whether she would intervene or not – though had someone asked her the question a few days ago the answer would be that she would definitely leap to the aid of Tradax.

"My people," Tradax began, and in spite of any misgivings his audience may have about him as a person there was no denying that he was an excellent public speaker, probably because he was immensely manipulative.

The spotlights converged on the throne, and the clamour below died down, those too inebriated to know what was going on still subconsciously realising that they needed to be quiet – Ilentia had no doubt that their lives would depend on it, as Tradax had killed for less than someone interrupting his speech. That Tradax would ever refer to the wealthy citizens of Welkas as his people was a testament to how conceited he had become, as well as how little influence the supposedly esteemed and venerated Protector had. However, Tradax was well liked by the rich, not because of any particular admiration for his deeds but because he simply let the Orders do what they want unless it got in the way of his plans, whereas Redhand and the other Masters before Tradax and his new generation had been less enthusiastic in removing all restraints on revelling.

"As you all know, our formidable and zealous foes, the legions of Lucael, advance on Usnaan. They have already proven how powerful their military is, and the minor cities of Jeksaan, Opraan and Khaelaan have been taken, the token forces we left swept aside by the righteous fury of their angels," Tradax stated, his voice inflected with a note false mourning, as if he couldn't care any more about the lives that had been lost without bursting into tears, "They will be here in a few days, and this short but brutal war will be decided then. The Lucaelian angels are certainly quite formidable, especially the ones that King Marik himself and his youngest son Caiellis, who visited our city five days ago – and I'm sure some of you will have seen his power first hand, just like poor Ershun - wield. However, I have countermeasures in place that will allow us to destroy our those who would dare to interrupt our revels."

He motioned upwards, "I'm sure some of the more eagle eyed amongst you have spotted the storm gathering ahead," there was some general, forced laughter at the attempted humour, although one woman that had clearly ingested too many brain-altering substances burst out in laughter until someone she was with shut her up, glancing fearfully up at the Archlord, who ignored the woman instead of giving in to the temptation to strike her down with a bolt of sizzling red lightning. "Some of you may have also correctly guessed that this weather is no natural occurrence. I call it the Tempest of Craving, and it is a gift. While the Lucaelians may have angelic guardians aiding them, more powerful forces, approving of our passion and wild celebrations, have aligned themselves with us."

"You may already know that myself and the three Masters of Passion stood with me have traded away our weaker Summonings in an Infernal Contract, obtaining forbidding demons of awesome power that are hated by those in Lucael. You would be forgiven for believing that due to their ominous name, and the history and mythology concerning other members of their race, that our demons are evil, despicable beings, but that is untrue. There are seven Brotherhoods of demons, and the ones that are aiding us only seek to preserve out monuments to passion and ecstasy."

"The Tempest of Craving was created by them, in exchange for even more of our indulgence. The more we celebrate, the more we feast, the more we pursue unadulterated pleasure in all of its many forms, the more powerful our demonic patrons become, and the further the storm intensifies. So by all means, prepare for the siege of our beloved capital, but I encourage you to continue partaking in the luxury of indulgence. However, know this: the thing that our demonic patrons want most is the blood of the self-righteous Lucaelians, and so the more you kill the more you will be rewarded when we win this war," Tradax finished, a magnanimous smile plastered on his sinister features, and a rapturous war-cry erupted from the audience below. Tradax basked in the adulation as the crowd shouted his name, and the battle chant of "For the Empire of Passion!"

.*.*.*.

Caiellis thrust himself back into reality with a lurching jolt, a headache beginning to pound at the back of his mind that he tried to ignore. Oh angels … Orzhova said that I've spent two hours asleep … I hope nothing has happened. Plus, I need to get the army moving if we are going to meet up with dad's force before nightfall.

Cai sat up in the bed, moving his brown bangs out of his eyes, and then felt like he wanted to vomit with a sudden realisation of the events of the day. He started shaking, and breathing faster, as it truly hit him that he had just massacred almost the entirety of the Welkalite army – it mattered not that he still spared some that his mind perceived as innocent (who am I to judge that anyway? How do I know that the ones I killed were guilty just because the Lens said they were?), he was still a mass-murderer. How could anything ever justify that amount of death?

Earlier, when he was suffused with the divine power of the Black Sun and felt like an exalted god, he had not spared it much of a thought, and then afterwards, basking in the victory and the elated discernment that he hadn't killed all of the Welkalite soldiers, he hadn't cared that despite those he had annihilated were judged as guilty, he had still killed them. He felt extremely guilty, but more than that: terrified, horrified of the power he had locked within him and the fact that it could be the cause of that many lives being extinguished.

How many was it? One thousand? Two thousand? Three? I don't even know how many I've killed … how can one person be the catalyst for this amount of death? I'm only thirteen years old! How have I already killed over a thousand people? How am I supposed to live with that?

Cai shook, barely repressing his sobs and whimpers at the sudden and excruciating understanding that his mind came to. I'm not supposed to live with it. I'm a monster, much worse than those that I've killed … I don't deserve to live … I'm scared. I'm scared of myself. I'm frightened of what I've done. But most of all I'm afraid of the fact that at the time it didn't bother me, and I'm afraid of what I could do. That wasn't even the full extent of my power … I think I can empathise more with dad now. He's killed more than me, and it shows.

The prince started crying, quietly, holding his head in his hands and wishing that a migraine more painful than he had ever experienced would sweep over him, though even then he knew that the punishment of that would not suffice, or erase what he had done. The worse bit of it was that no one else seemed to care, like it was perfectly normal that a child should be killing thousands of enemies just because of his distinguished heritage – even worse than that, they venerated him for it, worshipped him like some sort of sacred being just because he was capable of killing on a scale that no human should ever be able to. The Lucerna family must have taken more lives than a thousand other family trees of others, and they were respected for it?

He wished that instead of tossing his ornate "self-defence" (an ironic name come to think of it, though he supposed that when the younger him had been given the knife in the civil war he had used it for that purpose, but when it had ended just more than a month ago the dagger's use had been converted into a significantly more malevolent and detrimental to his health) knife away in Tranquillity's Descent, the peaceful waterfall on the Scholaria Magnus island where he had passed Orzhova's trial of mortality, he had kept it with him so that he could use it now. The cuts had been superficial, just underneath the skin and not damaging any internal organs, but they still left scars that occasionally hurt, though much less then his left arm and leg which periodically throbbed with background pain.

I just wanted to protect my soldiers … and help the people of Jeksaan … I never wanted to kill.

Cai's Lucaelian mind automatically turned to blaming Black mana and by extension Orzhova for the (not quite "merciless", but close to it) slaughter, but swiftly crushed those unfair thoughts, knowing that many Lucerna rulers with First Sisterhood angels other than the Angel of the Black Sun had committed mass homicides as well, just theirs were elevated whereas her deeds in the past had been scorned and hated – but then again Xarius had murdered solely innocents, whereas the other angels used their apocalyptic spells for military gain and to kill enemies that would be threatening those of Lucael without their angelic intervention.

Huge fat tears were cascading down his cheeks now, and he savagely swiped at them, his eyes landing on the personal mana communicator he had left on the small portable chair next to the bed, his official Lucerna one given to Jenna so that his logistical adviser could receive important calls, and only family members and friends could contact Caiellis on this one.

He reached out a slender and tiny hand and clutched onto the device, holding it close to him like the proximity in it would dispel the thoughts of not deserving to exist in his head. Then, a sudden thought rose up in his stricken mind, and he activated the communicator, knowing even in his panicked and hyperventilating state that what he was doing would ease his worry.

" 'Sup, little bro," a perfect rendition of Alex's voice was projected across the royal tent emblazoned with the Lucerna sigil of a man (supposedly Matalis, the First King) framed by two protective silvery white angelic wings. If Cai hadn't been in such a state, he would have told his older brother to never say that again (not that that would dissuade Alexander, in fact it would probably just encourage him to say it more frequently just to irritate Cai), but at the present moment all he did was sniffle pathetically, and murmur, "Do you really want a "little bro" that is a mass murderer?"

"What's wrong, Caiellis?" Alexander instantly asked, picking up on the melancholy resonance in the youngster's voice, the self-recrimination and loathing directed at Cai himself in the youngest Lucerna's words unfortunately quite familiar to his older sibling, "This has got to do with the battle you just won, right? I've heard the official reports, how you single-handedly obliterated the Welkalite force after a brief skirmish with your army, and even spared those that had been forced into the military."

"I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot," Cai said, sadly, his words almost bringing on a fresh tsunami of tears before he managed to erect a floodgate that could only ever temporarily stave off the crying,

"I just said that without explaining myself and I don't know how I can live with the amount of lives I've ended and I don't know if you can still love me because of it and I panicked, and I didn't know what to do, so I just rang you because I didn't know who else to turn to and I knew that no one else understands me as well as my big brother so I just rang you without thinking of the consequences and I know I should just be dealing with it myself and I'm sorry for bothering you especially when you have to recover and worry about your own army but saying sorry won't absolve me of the killing and I thought that maybe you could help me because you've always been able to help me in the past, even when mum died and I though that I could never get any sadder and you've stopped me from killing myself many times and I thought I should talk to you so that I didn't do it this time but I know you can't empathise with me because you haven't killed nearly as many people as I have and I'm a monster," Cai finished, breathlessly, taking in a very deep, shuddering inhalation to replenish the oxygen in his starved lungs.

"Have you been drinking coffee?" Alex asked, slight amusement present in his voice despite the gravity of Caiellis's words, though the younger boy knew that his older brother often utilised humour to ease the tension and pave the way for some characteristic "big brother" advice and reassurance that sometimes made Cai wonder if the older boy was a telepath, but on more uncommon occasions Alex had missed the mark – even rarer was when he did so by a wide margin, and made his little brother feel even worse (though he did sometimes intend that when they were in the middle of a sibling spat), but Alex was only human and humans made mistakes so that they could improve. At any rate, Cai felt slightly better just sharing his worries with someone else, but only by an infinitesimally small amount.

Cai shook his head, but as Alex quietly coughed a prompt he belatedly recalled that gestures weren't transmitted over the communication, and replied, "No, Alex. I'm not touching that stuff after what happened the last time I did."

"That's good. Right, before he addresses your main problems, Doctor Alex would like to know when the last time you had a drink was," Alex joked, and Cai frowned in confusion and sadness. He pouted, "You're not funny."

"Meanie," Alex responded light-heartedly, but took Cai's words on board and the next time he spoke his voice was noticeably more serious and stern, but just as comforting, "But the question still stands. When was the last time you had a drink, little buddy?"

Cai considered if for a moment – true, the pounding in his head could be attributed to dehydration, and his parched lips and throat would certainly suggest that – and he realised how dry he sounded when he spoke again, "Before the battle, I think. That was-" he checked his watch, glad it was still functioning after the battle he had just dragged it through, "Four hours ago."

"For angels' sake! Cai, why haven't you had one?" Alex demanded in protective outrage, and Cai shrugged, and responded with, "I've been asleep for the past two hours, and I couldn't exactly have one in the middle of the battle, could I?"

"I knew it. And they say you're supposed to be smart," Alexander jabbed, "I could tell you weren't thinking clearly, especially in the way that you almost choked yourself by babbling earlier. You're sometimes such an idiot, Cai."

"Sorry," Cai muttered absently, reasoning that his brother was correct and that his negative thoughts could easily have been exacerbated, however what he had thought earlier was true no matter how hydrated his brain was. "Don't apologise to me, apologise to yourself. You need to drink, especially not that you are in Welkas and it's absolutely fricken' boiling there. Anyway, make sure that you do that when we've done, ok?"

"Yeah," Cai replied softly, and now that they were approaching the main topic he could already feel floods of tears battering against the barriers he had placed. Alright, man up. Alex never cries – apart from when he's afflicted with a vampire's curse and is in monumental pain and about to die – so you shouldn't either, unless you are in the same circumstances. Then, and only then, are you excused. In the past couple of weeks I'm sure you've cried enough to create a damn ocean in the middle of the continent.

"You asked me whether I wanted a little brother that is a mass murderer or not. The answer is no, I don't want a mass-murdering brother," Alex stated simply, and Cai almost broke down in tears before the older boy elaborated, "But before you burst into tears, which despite what you might say is definitely what you were going to do, what I mean is that I don't think you are a mass-murderer."

"But … but I killed all those people..." Cai murmured despondently, despite the fact that his brother was already aware and was obviously trying to make a point to counter that reality. Alex sighed sadly, again wishing he was there with the boy so that he could provide physical comfort as well as verbal, but mentally thanked the scientists in the Yentarian Republic, and those in Lucael, that had developed the mana communicators so that the latter would be possible – without that, who knows what Cai, in his present dehydrated and despairing state, would have done? He didn't really have any friends or people that he felt comfortable opening up to at his end, which meant he had turned inwards.

"Ok, little man. Yes, you did kill a lot of enemies. But since you're a fan of logic, lets look at this logically," Alexander started, hearing his younger brother sniffle softly, but Caiellis didn't protest which meant he was willing to acquiesce to the older boy's wishes for now. Alex hated the fact that Cai constantly took out his worries on himself, but in that he reasoned the youngest member of his family had a lot in common with his two elders. He carried on, "So, what would have happened if you didn't cast your spell?"

"Not as many people would have died," Cai responded automatically, the part of his mind controlling speech still futilely clinging to the notion of blaming and hating himself, insisting that he was a screw up, a terrible brother for allowing Aksua to hurt Alex, a monstrous killer with no remorse, and now a useless prince because he couldn't deal with the fact that he had killed.

"And that's where you're wrong, Cai," Alex put in, though he knew that now he had prompted thought that the younger boy would already be thinking of that, "The same number of people – in fact, more people, would have died if you hadn't have eliminated those Welkalite Enforcers. For a start, your army would have definitely taken more casualties, and secondly those that you left alive wouldn't have survived either. So personally, I think you made the right choice, and you should be, if not proud of yourself, happy that you prevented more killing from occurring."

" 'suppose," Caiellis mumbled, figuring that, as usual, his big brother was correct and that his worries had been unfounded and paranoid, "It's just..." he drifted off sadly, not really sure of what to say: Alex had already proved that what he was thinking earlier was stupid, and he knew that it was the duty of Lucernas to kill the foes of the Kingdom of Light to spare more lives in the long run, and that he was being weak, pathetic and ultimately childish for thinking in such a way, but he still felt sad.

"I know, kiddo. It's a shock, having to embrace the fact that it was you that had ended all those lives. But put it this way: if you hadn't done it, then your army would have, whilst suffering more in the process," Alex assured, feeling massively sorry for his kid brother, who had to bear all this responsibility on his painfully thin shoulders at the age of thirteen, but such was the way of the Lucerna family – in fact, his own grandfather, King Garius II, had ascended to the throne a year younger than he was now, and Alexander didn't think he would be able to rule the country as well as simultaneously prosecute a war against the dastardly and deceitful Grafnica nation at sixteen, especially without any siblings.

He wished that he could swap places with his little brother, that he had used Aurelia's Fury on the Welkalite army instead of Cai having to harness Orzhova's power to achieve a relatively easy victory, but no matter how much he wanted to believe it, wanted it to happen, the reality was that his little brother couldn't always be protected from the harsh truth of the world – not that he ever really had been, but Alex had forever tried to preserve the boy's innocence as much as possible. Besides, if Caiellis ever did become king, he would most likely have to repeat this act several times in the future, and although Alex would make sure to help him every single step of the way his little brother would have even more authority and therefore culpability.

"Hey, on the bright side at least the way you are acting now proves you are nothing like Xarius," Alex smirked, and Cai rubbed at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, brushing his hair out of them and staring transfixed at the mana communicator, "Why? Did you think that I was like him?" he asked dejectedly, and Alexander replied with a laugh.

"It was a joke, Boy Genius. And although you can be horrible, you are nothing like him, because if you were I'd have to beat you up until you stopped."

"I'm not sure repeated violence helps to change someone's personality and ideology," Cai muttered, his youthful voice still coloured with melancholy though the fact that he was willing to participate in brotherly banter indicated to the middle Lucerna that he had been successful in helping the younger boy. He was immensely glad that Caiellis had mustered up the courage and taken it upon himself to call Alexander in spite of the fact that the older boy was travelling into Welkas with the reinforcements from Cassida Principia, Civitas Sol and Capitalia Lux as well as still recovering from his own ordeal.

He knew how reluctant Cai was to share his worries with him, which had been something that had happened in the past as Caiellis had been worried about the older boy's censure or Alex thinking him pathetic, especially because of his wounding and the fact that the littlest Lucerna didn't want Alex to fret. Cai had often tried to conceal his concerns and sorrow, but it seemed to barely ever work, and only ten days ago when he had discovered the younger boy's self harming did Alexander wonder how many times the kid had successfully pulled the wool over his eyes before, concluding that it wasn't many. The younger boy tried to figure things out for himself before asking Alex, and although when he was younger Alex might have been annoyed at Cai wanting help he had always tried to make him feel welcomed and that his big brother would always help him if he needed it; he didn't want his little brother to be afraid of inquiring for advice or sharing his anxiety.

"Maybe not. But at least it would have given me an excuse to kick your ass more often," Alex jabbed back, and Cai smiled grimly and sorrowfully, glad that the older boy couldn't see that. There were some benefits to long-range communication after all, apart from the obvious advantage of being able to contact others from a vast distance away. He still felt awful, but no longer suicidal or inclined to cut himself, something which was undeniably pitiful and was just reflective of how lamentable he was. Cai knew that he worried too much, and now also realised that what his sibling had said was true and that he had taken the correct course of action. Cai then replied, "Don't you think that you beat me up enough? I mean, you haven't had much opportunity to do so in the past few days, but still."

"You call what I've done in the past beating you up?" Alex laughed in feigned incredulity, although he was truthfully amused at that, "That was just me play fighting, midget. If I was being serious then you wouldn't be arguing with me now, trust me."

"Is that a threat, big brother?" Cai inquired innocently, enjoying the playful squabbling more than he usually did when it was on even ground, as normally he preferred it more when he was (admittedly rarely, as Alex had won most of their bantering (as well as their less common full-blown arguments), but Cai attributed that to the four year age gap and the fact that the older boy was bigger and stronger) winning. He was certain that Alex would have punched him good-naturedly or wrapped him in some sort of wrestling hold without using full force by now had the older boy been sat next to him.

"Nope. Just a fact," Alex stated nonchalantly, "You don't actually think I've tried to hurt you before, do you?"

"Yes," Caiellis answered instantaneously, provoking a laugh from his elder sibling, "Don't try to deny it. I will admit that usually when we wrestle you hold back - though not enough to stop it from hurting – but sometimes you have put all your strength into our fights."

"Yeah well, you must have provoked me quite a bit," Alex muttered, and Cai arched an eyebrow, "Sure … Because trying to stop you from practising your wrestling moves on me quantifies as provocation."

"Don't pretend that I'm not an awesome big brother," Alex put in, making both of them smile. Cai then sighed, a long exhalation full of sadness that his talk with the older boy hadn't entirely dispelled.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that, bro. But the fact that you are sad just proves that you are still human," and still a kid, Alex left that unspoken, knowing that it would serve to irritate the youngest prince further, but the point still stood. He wished that the younger boy could have just stayed back in the kingdom and actually had a childhood, leaving the fighting to their dad and him, however the unfortunate reality was that neither of the not yet adult Lucernas were strangers to misery and death, and the sooner in their lives that they were helping the kingdom the better, irrespective of their age.

Nevertheless, Caiellis must have been one of the youngest Lucaelians to ever lead an army, although Alex didn't know because he hadn't poured over the copious amount of information Geek Boy had, and didn't want to ask him as at the current moment Cai would realise where the older boy's thought processes were going with that.

"It's a burden every Lucerna has to take. I'm just weak to do it," Cai spoke in a hushed tone, as if scared that anyone other than his brother might be listening and judge him unworthy for it, "The worst part is that the battle we've just one was a minor one in the grand scheme of things."

"It was the first time you used an apocalypse level spell," Alex countered, and his brother sighed even sadder, so he added, "It will get easier the more you do it."

"That's the problem. I don't want to have to use any more spells like that, but I'm not naïve enough to pretend I won't have to. In that case I don't want it to get easier. I want it to be just as painful as this, if not more so. I want to feel every single death I inflict, emotionally if not physically. When I stop feeling it I'll know that I no longer deserve to live," Cai uttered, dramatically, and in spite of the fact that his words were incredibly thoughtful and intelligent Alexander had to suppress a snort at how grown up the thirteen year old sounded to him.

"Trust me as someone whose known you all your life and grown up alongside you, Caiellis, when I say that I don't think you'll ever stop feeling sorrow over the loss of life. You may try to hide it away in front of other people, but I know you, and I know that you have a gentle heart. I know you hate killing – so do I, but not as much as you do because I like protecting people and killing is sometimes a regrettable by-product of that," Alex replied, and a companionable silence descended between the two as both ruminated on what the other had said.

I can still remember him as a little kid, crying for mum when we knew she had gone. Alex thought, but at least he still does sometimes act his age, and doesn't pretend to be an adult all of the time.

"Anyway," he broke the quiet, "You should probably go and get a drink of water now. You sound really dry," as if to punctuate his words, Caiellis coughed thirstily, and the inside of his throat felt like sandpaper.

"Yeah," he agreed, "And then I need to get the army moving."

"You've not met up with dad's force yet?" Alex questioned, his voice tinted with slight incredulity, but he should have expected something like this from his compassionate little brother, who wouldn't have wanted to force his army to march just after a battle and would have let them relax and rest for a while before moving again. Cai shook his head, and then smiled when he reminded himself that his brother couldn't see, "No, I haven't. I thought he'd rather have a delayed but fully operational force than a punctual but exhausted one. And plus, I did call dad to try and tell him, but Uncle Tristram answered instead, and he agreed with my choice and promised to tell dad."

"That's good," Alex returned, and then asked, "Why do you still call Tristram and Tybalt "Uncle" anyway?"

"You started it, remember. You told me when I was four that they were my uncles so that I would stop complaining at what they told me to do and I felt more at ease with them, though that didn't really stop me with Uncle Tristram," Cai explained fondly.

"I know that, Boy Genius, I was there," Alex chuckled, "I just wanted to know why you still continue to do it."

"Is there a problem with it?" Cai demanded, wondering if for some reason Alexander found it irritating or if one of the Capitalia Lux Light-bearers had told the older boy that they disliked it. The middle Lucerna snorted, "No, no problems. I find it cute, that's all."

"Urrgh. I've had enough of that from Jenna and Ruthia," Cai replied, abashedly remembering his conversation with the praetorian after the battle where he had behaved like an awkward teenager instead of a prince. Hopefully Ruthia hadn't noticed, as if she had done she hadn't shown any signs, but like a lot of girls around that age she seemed infatuated with his older brother, something that Cai wasn't sure what he thought of - whether to be proud or embarrassed. Alex laughed, the sound full of mirth, "You need to step up your game then, baby brother, though you are close. Being seen as cute by a girl is one step from them being attracted to you, but you're gonna have to work harder if you wanna be a lady-killer like me."

"I don't want to be killing any ladies!" Cai replied, innocently aghast, which made Alex laugh even more – he wasn't entirely sure whether the younger boy was genuinely ignorant of the term, or whether Cai was joking, although he suspected the former because the boy's lack of interaction with others meant that he probably hadn't heard the phrase before, "It means that they figuratively die of happiness when you seduce them, Geek Boy."

"Oh. Well in that case I'm not interested in that either," Cai responded simply.

"Your loss," Alex verbally nudged, "I remember that at your age I'd already had two girlfriends."

"That's because you enjoy talking to other people, and you're more confident than I am," Cai stated, "And additionally, I don't think you should be encouraging your thirteen year old brother to be aiming at girls five and seven years older than him."

"Why not? I think you and Jenna would make an adorable couple," Alex teased, "Although her little sister, who I only found out a few days ago was Annia, would probably be very jealous."

"And why is that?" Cai asked, not enjoying the subject of the current conversation. Alex already knew that his little brother was more focussed on his duties as a prince than girls at the moment, and wanted to wait until he was a little older (well, an adult actually, when I'm old enough to make an informed decision on who I want to spend the rest of my life with) to start dating them.

"You should have seen the way she was looking at you at meal times back at the Scholaria Magnus. I'm well used to that sort of look, so believe me when I tell you that she fancied you," Alex said in a "big brother advice" way, and Cai was incredibly tempted to turn off the mana communicator, but despite the talk coming to a close anyway he really didn't want to do that to his older brother, especially since the older boy would fret not knowing whether the youngest Lucerna had done it intentionally or something had disrupted the call. Alex continued, though his voice was more teasing now, "Besides, she was your kind of girl – as in an intelligent bookworm – so I personally think you should have gone for it. The chance has gone now though. Should have listened to my advice when we were there."

"She was too loud and hyper. And I barely knew her, which I know has never stopped you before but I think I'd prefer to get to know a girl better before sharing a bed with her," Cai jabbed back, pointedly, to which Alex then said: "Well I can't think of anyone else who would ever want to date a runt like you, so expect to live the rest of your life lonely," Alexander teased.

"I imagine that with the relationship me and dad have at the moment, he would probably have me executed if I got a girlfriend," Cai murmured, turning the chat remarkably more serious. "Yeah, maybe. If you put it that way, I don't think you should be going for one anyway. I was just teasing you, don't think that should be going and asking out every single girl around your own age that you meet because you feel that you have something to prove. Besides, I think you and dad should be fine and will stop arguing because you haven't seen each other for quite a while, so he's probably missing you."

I know you're just trying to heal the rift between me and our father, and to be honest I can empathise with that; I wouldn't want to be in between the eldest and youngest of the Lucerna family either, but I don't think there's any possibility whatsoever of dad missing me even the slightest bit. Anyway, you probably don't know that we talked, and that I cut off on him, which I am a bit sorry for. This sounds awful, but I don't miss him at all. I guess after nine years without him and then a month with little to no positive impact on my life and significantly more negative effect, I'm just used to Marik being a non-factor. It's a shame really. I loved him when I was younger, and every day during the civil war I would look forward to seeing him again.

Normally Cai's older brother wouldn't apologise for his teasing, as verbally sparring was a normality between them, but Caiellis knew that because they weren't actually in vision of each other, and because once again he had undergone an emotional breakdown, that Alexander wanted to make sure that he was alright before the communication ended, not that he was taking the tormenting seriously in the first place.

"We aren't going to argue," Cai stated firmly, "Well I'm not, at any rate. We're in the middle of a war, so arguing would be more than just stupid, it could be detrimental to the entire war effort. I don't know about dad, but I doubt that he thinks differently, and any arguing we could do besides rational and emotionless debates on strategy is worse than pointless so I'm going to try and avoid it."

"Very mature of you," Alex prodded, and although he said it in a jovial and slightly mocking tone he meant the words. Many other boys Caiellis's age would persist in arguing against their parents, though perhaps not as disciplining children was something taken quite seriously in Lucael and their mother's method of using words instead of cold force that was derived from her own parents was quite rare, so maybe with the threat of violence Cai would never have started to argue with their dad in the first place.

Well, technically violence did do the trick, as I'm pretty sure neither of them have shouted at each other (unless they did it when dad was taking Cai to the monorail station, but judging by dad's reaction it was more sadness than anger) since dad almost crushed Cai's arm. Alex recalled a recent memory of his contrite father talking to the bed-ridden him just after Cai had called him (after ignoring seven of Alex's attempts to contact him), prior to him going to sleep that night, asking Alexander if he, or Cai, could ever forgive him for what he had allowed to happen to them both – or caused, in the case of his youngest.

Alexander had replied that with time his little brother would, and that he had already forgiven Marik (well, he had told him that there was nothing to be forgiven in his instance, which was true). He hoped that was true, and knew that with coaxing and a long process of trust building that Caiellis could be made to feel the same love for their dad (he still thought that deep down, Cai still loved the man, which made the arguments filled with even more vehemence as he tried to think of reasons for that love) as he did – he was aware of Marik's deep fondness for both of his sons, it was just that so far after the nine year interval in their parenting only he had really been shown it.

He still made sure to (respectfully, of course) ensure that his father knew that what he had done to Caiellis was deeply wrong – not that he didn't already, and Alexander had seen the guilt eating away at their dad on the inside – but apart from that he refused to take sides in their disputes. If Cai came crying to him, then he would of course comfort his little brother but also try to make the squirt empathise (or at least sympathise) with his father's position, whereas if Marik was grumbling about his youngest to his eldest then he would make pains to try and argue the kid's case. Unless one of them was massively in the wrong (as dad had been earlier), then Alex wouldn't support one of them.

It pained him to admitted it, but if worst came to worst and he had to pick a side then, as his father and king, he would have to choose dad over Caiellis simply because of the fact that he was an adult whilst his little brother was still a child. While the younger boy was intelligent and analytical, he struggled with his emotions – well, all the Lucernas did, when one looked underneath the veneer of confidence and certainty, but the youngest member more than the others – and in spite of the fact that Caiellis would repeatedly refute it, his hormones were having an effect on his thought processes. Alex would have to support the eldest Lucerna over the youngest member of their family because of that age gap, and the fact that Marik had more authority as the ruler and the father. Not that he would enjoy the look of betrayal and sorrow Cai would undoubtedly send him if he was forced to select a side.

Anyway, Alex thought, Cai said he wasn't going to argue with dad, and I don't think dad will want to as he already has enough to contend with, what with being the supreme commander of all Lucael's legions, so I should take the little man's word for it and not think about picking between them.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you again, short stuff," Alex spoke, infusing his words with happiness at being with – and therefore able to protect – his little brother, as everything (well, most things) seemed so much better with a small version of his heritage at his side that he could teach about the world. The younger boy sighed, muttering, "I still don't think dad should have authorised your release. It has only been five days since you almost died to Aksua – I'm still sorry about that, by the way – so even with your Lucerna blood with the blessing of the angels heightening your fortitude, I think you should spend more time recovering."

"If it was up to you I wouldn't be allowed out of bed for the next year," was Alex's mildly satirical reply. Cai exhaled frustratedly, "You know that isn't true. I'm just trying to think about your safety, because apparently you're incapable of doing that for yourself. As much as both of us would like to believe it, you aren't invincible, and you shouldn't be going into this war."

"So that you can hog all the glory to yourself? No thanks, baby brother. You've already won two battles, and I've not even been part of one yet," Alex said.

"It's not about that-" Cai responded quickly, but his brother interrupted him, "Yes, yes it is somewhat about that. I have to start proving myself worthy of being a prince as well. It's honestly embarrassing that my four years younger brother has led two armies to victory at the age of thirteen whilst I haven't done anything yet. I know that mostly you dislike our rivalry, but as the older brother I should be doing better than you. No offence, kiddo, but even though you have been successful I personally think that I am stronger than you when we Summon because of my greater familiarity and experience with Aurelia, whereas you've only just met Orzhova," Alex stated firmly. "And now that I've recovered I can start earning glory as well."

"War isn't just a game!" Cai shouted suddenly, releasing emotions of anger that had built up unbeknownst to him during his brother's speech, "Do you really think that I did what I did to earn glory? Do you honestly believe that the only reason that I want to win battles is to win more in this brotherly rivalry of ours, or if that is a reason at all?"

"Cai, calm down," Alex's perfectly even voice cut through his sibling's emotional tones, suffused with the authority and power he commanded over his little brother that instantly shut the smaller boy up, "I was just saying that it's about time that I got involved in defending the kingdom as well. And yes, our virtually non-existent rivalry is even smaller in war. I wasn't saying that it was some sort of competition, and I know that you hate murderous violence. I guess that I just feel like I should have done something to help, just as you have. That's all. Not because I want to earn glory or anything, but because I want to protect the people as well, and because I'm older than you I should have started before, only that vampire bitch has stopped me."

"I … I'm sorry for shouting. I never wanted you to feel like that, or feel inadequate," Cai apologised deeply, and Alex instantly felt like he shouldn't have said those sorts of things to his little brother who had rung for the sole reason that he couldn't cope with the amount of lives he had taken. "Aww Cai, you don't make me feel inadequate. But now that I've recovered – and I have recovered, Mr Control Freak – I can fight side by side with you, like we are supposed to, as Lucerna brothers."

"If it's any consolation," Cai began sullenly, "I count our time as refugees in the civil war and the escape from Usnaan as two of your victories, making us even."

"How generous of you. Counting nine desperate years of our life as one victory," Alex joked, though the words still touched his heart. He should know by now that Caiellis would never be able to see himself better than the big brother he looked up to, respected deeply and emulated, because he had basically raised that kid along with Tristram and Tybalt, but those two had focussed on making both boys princes whereas Alex helped Cai develop as a person.

"Alright then, I take it back," Cai jabbed back, "I'm up two to zero. But in all seriousness, I still don't think you are strong enough to be going to war."

"I'm still stronger than you, little wimp," Alex teased.

"One day you might not be, jerk."

"Keep believing that, bitch," Alex replied, both brothers grinning though neither of them could see, "Anyway, see you soon little buddy. Make sure that you get a drink, and set off to meet up with the main force as soon as possible."

"And you call me the control freak," Caiellis exclaimed indignantly, mimicking Alex's words in the first call they had been a part of back in Scientia Mos.

"Just offering advice, bitch."

"Can't think of anything else to call me?" Cai inquired innocently.

"Of course not. I just think that's the name that fits you the best. My little bitch of a brother."

"In that case, see you soon jerk-face."

"How imaginative. I see you're putting your brain to good use there, Boy Genius. See ya!"

Cai had an inane smile that only rarely graced his young features, a far cry from the defeated and terrified expression that had plastered itself over his face when he had called his brother, and knew that he had definitely made the correct decision in calling Alexander, who had succeeded in cheering him up.

"You can come in now," he directed the comment at the entrance to his tent, to the person who had been stood there for an excess of thirty seconds – just long enough to have heard the brothers exchange insults and goodbyes, but not to have listened to both his worry about the amount of killing and Alex's apparent concerns about the fact that he had been stuck in recuperating limbo and unable to help the kingdom as his kid brother ostensibly had. That was good. Whoever had been waiting – whether of not they were actively trying to listen in to his conversation – didn't need to know about either of the princes' concerns.

He turned around as a fully-armoured Drax entered the room, although the man had obviously taken his armour off to polish it as it wasn't covered in the grime of the battlefield, just the damn dust that seemed to get into everything in Welkas. The man's expression betrayed nothing under Caiellis calculated scrutiny, but the boy arched an eyebrow at the steaming meal that seemed to have been purchased from a market in Jeksaan, as well as the flask of water.

"I've brought you a meal of Trevesh Al'quira," Drax mumbled and probably severely mispronounced the words evidently originating from some ancient Welkalite dialect, "Which is apparently a delicacy fit for the highest kings."

"Thank you," Caiellis extended his gratitude to the man, as he was hungry and eating food would replenish his stores of mana much faster – plus, a delicious smell was wafting in from the food, some sort of meat and assorted vegetables covered in a sunburst orange sauce. He had to repress a smirk at the mental image of the inflexible and dour Drax going into the vibrant city they were camped outside of and ordering food from one of the market stalls, although perhaps one of the other members of the Lucerna Guard or his advisory committee (his new name for Mysos, Jenna and some of the captains and generals) had purchased the meal and the head praetorian had just delivered it.

He was handed the meal, the boy's thin hands looking woefully small next to the bodyguard's metal gauntlets, but Caiellis instead took a massive gulp of water from the flask when it was placed on the portable bedside table, almost choking as he misjudged the amount of water that he had poured into his mouth. It must have been one of the nicest drinks he had had in a while.

"Please, sit down," Cai magisterially wafted his hand in the direction of the small stool present in his tent, though silently wondered whether it could hold the weight of the armoured praetorian, but despite the fact that for some unknown reason he had decided that he wanted to act in a more kingly manner the reality that he was still sat on his (undeniably messy – I hope Drax doesn't think I'm incapable of making a bed. No, he won't, everyone in the kingdom knows I'm not a spoilt brat because of the civil war) bed and that he was still wearing his bloodstained and ripped clothing from the battlefield (having not deigned to wear full plate armour as he found it too restrictive and the fact that he could heal himself made it redundant) nullified the effect.

Drax bowed and shook his head respectfully, preferring just to stand, and an awkward silence descended as the prince ate his meal, musing about if it would seem like he was being wasteful or picky if he didn't eat all of it, because although it was just after one o'clock and hadn't eaten much for breakfast he was already becoming full.

"I gave out the order to assemble the army before coming to see you," Drax mentioned, and after swallowing the extremely spicy mouthful he was eating – I suppose the highest Welkalite kings would have breathed fire so would need ridiculously hot food to contend – he said, "Thank you, Drax. As usual your organisational skills are commendable."

Cai felt like a complete idiot. He had definitely overslept, no matter that he had utilised a spell requiring a gigantic amount of mana expenditure, and just left the army to do as it pleased. It was a good job those in the Lucaelian legions were mature (arguable in Ciaran's case) adults and didn't run wild in the city, though Caiellis thought that if anything had happened it would most likely be kept from the attention of the exalted representative of the Lucerna line, deemed too petty for his notice.

"Thank you, my lord Caiellis," Drax responded automatically, and then diverted his eyes from Cai's unamused glower, changing the conversation, "You deserved your rest, anyway, after that spell. I came to check on you an hour ago, but you were still sleeping. Don't think that you were left undefended though."

"I never did," Cai muttered, pushing his food around the bowl it was in with his fork, feeling stuffed and not wanting to eat any more despite over half of it being there – he reckoned that he could manage it if he wanted to be sick, and besides the largest meal of the day was still to come anyway. His mind went back (as it always did, because that time was the only time he had lived in his short life and so most of his memories were from then) to the civil war, where food was often scarce and he was pretty sure that Tristram, and more rarely Tybalt as the younger man forced the Hierarch to eat just as he made his two charges, had gone without so that the princes could have more, in spite of more still being scraps.

Whenever they got to a city that they knew was safe (as at first no one could be trusted, and the four had to conceal their identities whenever entering a new city just in case it was secretly traitor or home to betrayers), Alexander had always stuffed himself, and Cai had eaten more than he did now – often to the point where he was almost sick because they were that hungry, but now that food was readily available he didn't feel the need to gorge, not that eating like a normal person was gorging, and no one in Lucael was anything like those in the Welkalite Order of Gluttony. Alex kept himself on a large diet of healthy and sometimes more unhealthy things – mostly protein however – but his big brother did that so that he could keep up his muscular physicality.

"Is there something wrong with the food, Caiellis?" Drax asked, noticing the boy playing with it and only occasionally placing small pieces of it in his mouth, "I didn't recommend that dish, but your advisor Jenna insisted it would match your tastes."

Oh, of course she did. She'd probably find the thought of me eating an absurdly spicy dish hilarious. Joke's on her that I actually don't mind spicy meals, in spite of their rarity in Lucael, Cai thought. The youngster mulled over whether to tell the man that he was full, and risk looking ungrateful, or persist in painfully slowly eating it until Drax left and he could dispose of the meal. Truth won out, and Cai said: "It's delicious, actually. A very good choice by Jenna. But unlike my brother and father, I can't devour a huge meal without batting an eyelid, so I'm actually quite full. You can eat it if you want," Cai offered.

Caiellis held the dish out when Drax walked over and plucked it from his grasp, and the boy added, "When I've changed clothes I'll be ready to address the legion and get it moving again. We need to meet up with da- the king's army before nightfall," he said, smoothly smothering the verbal misstep as he knew he shouldn't be calling his father by that informal title in front of other people that might dislike their monarch being referred to in such a way.

Drax nodded, replied with a: "I will ensure that everything is ready for you," and began to walk out of the tent. Cai saw him tentatively sample a bit of the remainder of the Trevesh Al'quira, splutter loudly and turn bright red, probably hoping that his thirteen year old liege hadn't seen that. It was quite amusing, but Caiellis didn't want to make the man even more abashed so kept quiet and pretended he hadn't noticed. He ran soothing healing mana over his front and back after taking off his torn shirt, the bruising on his face and back throbbing painfully, but otherwise something that would cause no lasting damage and could be ignored.

He felt a slight bit of trepidation at having to talk to the army and order it to march, but since he had already done so before, and both these things paled in comparison to the speech that he had done in front of the entire kingdom – although at the time he hadn't known it, but just talking to the entirety of Scientia Mos almost made him have a panic attack in itself. Now public speaking was becoming one of those things that he hated but pushed aside his personal dislike of it to serve the kingdom better.

At any rate, judging by where his father's army should be meeting up with other forces, the march would only take a few hours, and they would arrive in around six hours if all went well.

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Summonings/Creatures in this chapter:

Ripscale Predator