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.

27. Burn Me Alive

Caiellis could feel the presence of the war camp before actually seeing it, just before the orange sun set beneath the horizon and stopped illuminating his legion in its wan amber glow. Such a focus of White mana, as well as flecks of all colours other than Black, made him feel like he was in one of the vast metropolises of the homeland he had vacated a day ago, though the mana was much more condensed rather than spread out across the whole city.

If he was to concentrated hard, which wasn't currently a practical option as it would require him standing still and blocking out his other five senses to fully access his sixth sense, the first thing he would perceive would be the vast quantity of pure White mana centralised on his father the king, although not as blatantly obvious as it would be if he had Summoned Akroma. Then he would detect the other prominent Summoners in the army, including Uncle Tristram, Uncle Tybalt (who had, ignoring others' protestations, insisted that he help the war effort with his Second Sisterhood angel, arguing that it was precisely because of his age that he should be at the forefront of the battle), Guardians Oleic and Lelia, their Hierarchs left back at the cities to defend them from any potential assaults from the ever eager abyss, echoing the course of action that Martha had taken.

When his older brother arrived with the reinforcements for the final push into Usnaan, as there was only one relatively sizeable (though still dwarfed by the massive number of Lucaelian legionaries) Welkalite force remaining between them and the capital that was left to be destroyed by his and Marik's armies, the mana presence of the force would be bolstered by Guardian Xathan, the Slayer of the Wicked and Mysos's father, his two daughters, general Carlos Montlea (who had elected to remain with his twins and serve under the eldest prince) and Alex himself, who could contribute Aurelia to the mix.

He was tempted to conjure up his stained glass wings and soar above the army so that he could look down upon it, but knew that would be wasteful and would quickly use up the small amount of mana he had managed to generate after casting the Merciless Eviction. He knew that he had been selfish in focussing too much on the burden placed on him instead of ordering his troops around, but as long as it still hurt to kill that much he assured himself it would be fine, so long as he could deal with it and not succumb to despair.

Alexander had made him realise something pitifully simple that he should have been able to figure out for himself, what with his apparently extremely intelligent brain for his young age, which was that the Welkalite troops would have to have died anyway, unless they surrendered (which, judging by the fragile psychosis of their general, had been an extremely unlikely possibility), and that by killing them himself he had prevented more of his own soldiers from dying, as well as sparing the lives of the innocent Jeksaanians. Cai worried constantly about his emotional state, but now that he was able to bare the responsibility of what he had done, if not quite with pride then at least without overwhelming guilt.

What made it easier to deal with was how gratitude filled the Welkalite elders, or the new council of Jeksaan, had been when they had left, as well as the soldiers that had been judged unworthy of death by his spell, and the cheering population of the reasonably small city waving goodbye to the Lucaelian soldiers touched his heart.

If the prince looked into the eyes of some of his troops, they either respectfully averted their gaze or stared back, their eyes full of pride and reverence, and absolutely no fear, and smiled at their youthful prince.

He was glad that his dad had been possessed of enough thoughtfulness to send his youngest son to Scientia Mos, instead of any of the other cities (as Gol Secondus was still in the process of rebuilding and still haunted by the scars of the past and the slaughter of their people, and Cassida Principia was more obsessed with warfare and protocol so Cai wouldn't have been able to talk to anyone), as the City of Books was the most understanding of the metropolises, having suffered least under Xarius apart from some of the now defeated traitor cities.

The Kingdom of Light had been the biggest it had ever been in his grandfather's reign, and the first seven years of his father's, but Cai thought that despite the loss of three cities and many lives it was now stronger than it had ever been because of the bonds between those that survived and the utter determination not to lose, as well as the increased experience fighting against an attack from the darkness, the likes of which had not been seen for centuries.

He was located at the front of the foot troops, as only Ciaran's elite horseback knights were before them, the cavalry using their greater manoeuvrability to ensure that the army following them was safe. The grandson of the Hierarch had treated him significantly more like an adult after his defeat in the honour duel, and it brought a sense of satisfaction to Caiellis that this was the case, as at the time he had been incredibly annoyed at the random declaration.

The boy cast a glance to the leader of the knights, riding on a pale and elegant stallion armoured in masterfully welded steel plates that framed the graceful beast without impairing movements, and the twenty-five year old, as if sensing his scrutiny, turned to where the boy was marching next to his glittering and gold- and silver- clad praetorians (although the metals used to make the armour were enchanted alloys, derivatives of the pure elements as they on their own wouldn't protect against blows, as well as being immensely expensive, not that the Lucerna Guard under the direct command of the royal family lacked economic backing), although at the distance he couldn't quite see the young man's facial expression.

He could however perceive the thumbs up Ciaran gestured in his direction, meaning that the area ahead was safe. Not that he had ever doubted it wouldn't be, even the most suicidal Welkalites knew that to stray near the main Lucaelian army without a force of their own backing them up was certain death without achieving anything, most likely riddled with arrows or bombarded by magical light before even reaching the disciplined and well trained legionaries.

Normally a Lucerna would ride around on horseback, but Cai shared his father's and brother's dislike of the horses, much preferring to walk on his own two feet (or fly) instead of having to focus on controlling them. The fact that Caiellis wasn't strong enough to manually force the horse to obey his commands, nor had the correct type of magic required to communicate mentally with it, was just a further reinforcement of his distaste of them. Besides, although he had been trained to ride a horse when he was younger, it would have been simply impractical for them to take one with them in the civil war, as there was barely enough food to go around anyway when they were outside the cities, and horses were loud and would attract attention when they needed to be stealthy.

It was vaguely embarrassing that the vast majority of the people in the legion wouldn't be able to see their Lucerna leader because of his very modest height of just four feet and eleven inches (that his 6'3'' big brother adored), and so because he wasn't mounted his praetorians would block out view of him, but at least Aymer was carrying the generic standard of the Lucerna Guard, as Caiellis hadn't had the time to design his own personal heraldry like his father had (though neither had Alex).

"I'd say we are about ten minutes from seeing the main camp," Lancalo stated, his voice cutting through the silence between the prince, his advisers and his bodyguards, and Cai nodded in agreement, as they were just coming out of some sort of valley that had been scouted as safe by those with easily accessible aerial Summonings.

After utterly annihilating the army that guarded Khaelaan and almost leaving the city in ruins, his father's force had entrenched themselves on a slightly elevated plateau, as high ground was much easier to defend from any potential assaults. Then they would have met up with the silent Guardian Lelia's army (comprising of the primary force from the City of Swords that had been sent, and the City of Rebirth's own troops that they could spare) two or three hours ago, as proceeding the defeat of Opraan the Light-bearer hadn't disobeyed (or "bended", as I prefer to think of it) his father's orders to get there as quickly as possible, although if Uncle Tristram had been true to his word (and Cai had no reason to suspect anything else, as the thirty year old was much more like a father to him than his biological progenitor) then Marik would already know, and since he hadn't received any outraged calls he had to assume that the slight delay of the Scientia Mos army had been accommodated into the plan.

"It's going to be good to see the praetorians still attached to the king," Ruthia quipped, and although Caiellis didn't know any of those that currently served his dad he assumed that the eighteen year old had a connection to one of them judging by how excited she seemed. Jenna then asked the younger woman what the others were like, as the Yentarian researcher was stood next to his only female (he was sure that Alex would be more than thrilled to know that Marik had kept the other four youngish women as his personal guards instead of letting his eldest son have them, leaving the teenager with four men) bodyguard, which soon sparked a conversation as the two chatterboxes began talking and Ruthia seemingly let Jenna into some Lucerna Guard gossip when she leaned in and whispered.

The twenty year old laughed loudly and directed a glance at Drax, who pretended to be above such things and remained staring resolutely forwards, causing Cai to wonder what it was that had been said. It didn't really matter, so he turned to look at Mysos, who shrugged his shoulders in bemusement as if to say "women". Caiellis had caught the name "Mirria Chrysos" and so filed it away within his mind, pondering which of the four women would be that and thinking about the woman's last name; Chrysos had been one of the noble families of Crescia, the City of Commerce that had betrayed the kingdom, and it was quite rare to see someone from any of the three cities that had joined the darkness and turned their backs on the light. He briefly mused over what relation this Mirria might have with Uliea Chrysos, the Hierarch of the corrupted metropolis.

Within the ten minutes that Lancalo had predicted, the forefront on the army stepped out of the valley and could see the rest of the Lucaelian force, a huge array of tents emblazoned with many different symbols indicating the presence of a large number of important nobles and Light-bearers. There were several soldiers from Capitalia Lux standing guard, and Ciaran rode towards them with his division following behind, speaking to the defence commander so that she could be certain that those who would be entering the camp were who they said they were.

The pass code was apparently Orzhova, which was surprising but made sense in Cai's mind, as the names of the two other First Sisterhood angels with Summoners (the usual subjects of passwords) could be known by others, whereas Caiellis's Angel of the Black Sun's name was only revealed recently, as for some reason it had never been recorded during Xarius's reign. Therefore the codeword was something significant but also exclusive to present loyalist Lucaelians, as because he had completed the Summoning trial after the civil war had ended the traitors wouldn't know the name of his angel. He briefly mused about what Orzhova herself thought of that: no doubt she would find it quite amusing. The boy's thoughts then turned to who had picked the name, and if they were trying to appease him while doing it – the most likely option was dad, but it seemed uncharacteristic of him to take that course of action. Maybe he was just over-thinking, and that Orzhova had been selected just because of the reasons he had already come up with.

The woman nodded, and looked out at the large army that was approaching the camp, still a few minutes away, her eyes landing on the group of praetorians and the youngest heir to the throne, the commander's expression full of respect but strangely inscrutable, as if she didn't want to betray anything about something hidden from Caiellis. Perhaps that was just how she normally looked, and that her natural suspicion was what had made her an excellent guard leader during the civil war, or maybe it was something deeper. That remained to be seen.

He knew that there would be a space left for his army to make camp, and silently pondered if he was going to have to share dad's royal tent that was comprised of several different sections, both used for recreational purposes, recuperation, and kingly duties, although the format of the camp would be similar to his earlier one and so would have a strategium next to it. The tent would definitely be big enough for both of them and Alexander when he arrived, but personally Caiellis would rather stay in own private facility in the midst of his own forces, as he knew that in war his dad was immensely focussed and couldn't be distracted by children, and if Cai was going to get in the way then it was better for both of them if he stayed on his own.

Caiellis had figured this out because during the war against Johnias's forces, there were numerous occasions where Marik could have seen his two sons, but chose not to. At the time he had put it off to him being too busy, and that he wanted to save their reunion until after the war had ended so that it could be as fantastic as Cai had dreamed about it being, but now he thought that perhaps the man had known that seeing the two remaining members of his family would prevent him from concentrating on the war as he would have to actually put some effort into being a father again, and wasn't ready to embrace that duty – and still wasn't, for his youngest anyway.

He smiled when he saw someone very familiar to him emerging out from a group of guards and speaking to the commander as his army closed on the camp. Tristram was armoured in his usual plate, with the cloth that he had torn off to staunch the bleeding of Caiellis's wounded leg back when they were fighting Aksua replaced, and grinned when he met Cai's eyes. The man was definitely more like a dad than his actual one, despite hating him until he was around ten years old because of the fact that he forced the youngest prince to participate in gruelling physical training exercises and hand-to-hand combat that Caiellis knew he would never be able to win, as the only training partners were either his brother or the Capitalia Lux Guardian (as Tybalt was too old) and the outcome of fighting either would be the same.

Tristram shook Ciaran's hand and clapped the five year younger male on the back, probably commenting on how "grown up" he was now after seeing him for the first time in nine years (which made Cai belatedly remember that Tristram had only been a young twenty-one when he had started caring for the princes, and that he was only thirteen years older than Alex).

He noticed Drax hiding a deep scowl, and had to repress a smirk of his own as he reasoned that the duteous, obedient and protocol-driven praetorian would have a lot to dislike about the Guardian of the capital (arguably the highest rank of Guardian, but one with less duties concerning running their respective city if the monarch was capable of doing that and more to do with protecting the Lucerna family instead) because of his lack of respect for authority (ironically making him perfect for serving and helping those that were thought of as descendants of the divine). In fact, he did remember the two arguing at one point when he was three before Marik silenced them so that he could listen to what his quiet youngest was saying.

Cai stepped out of his armoured bodyguard, feeling very small compared to the rest of his army, which was an interesting sensation as he almost certainly had the highest power level of any one person there, and that they would willingly throw down their lives for him, but the fact that they were wearing armour and he wasn't (some would consider that reckless, but Cai knew it would just distract and hinder him) accentuated the difference further. It wasn't as if he was insecure about it, as he had pretty much gotten used to being the smallest in a specific group of people (with only very few exceptions), he just wished he could be of at least a normal height and build so that he wouldn't look dwarfed when standing next to his older brother.

"Good to see you again, Cai!" the Guardian exclaimed with a grin when the adolescent began to walk towards one of the many entrances to the camp, ensuring that he strode with purpose in front of his army, who began to follow him. Caiellis waved and smiled, and was utterly unprepared for the man to wrap one arm around him, lift him off his feet with that one and begin ruffling his hair with the free hand, much to the boy's dismay at being embarrassed in front of his troops.

"Tristram! Put me down!" he yelped in indignation, and the man smiled mischievously at him, stopping his ruffling but electing to keep the boy aerial, as Cai fixed his hair (though Tristram thought there was absolutely no difference, but if it satisfied the lad then who was he to object?). "Funny. It was "Uncle" Tristram when you were asking me to do something earlier today. And no "Happy to see you too Uncle Tristram!"?"

"You know that's not how I sound," Cai protested at the high pitched mockery of his voice, going redder and redder the longer the man held onto him with his army watching, so Tristram put him down and patted him on the head fondly. Angels he had missed the kid, though not as much as his older brother would still be. Though he knew that their relationship should technically be more of a mentor/student one, as well as the boys' association with Tybalt, and so he shouldn't really care about not seeing Caiellis for three days, he still felt responsibility for his safety, both as a young person and as a prince.

"Guardian Weiss," the Capitalia Lux Light-bearer nodded his head in respect to the venerable and wily warrior, who replicated the motions. Though the two only knew each other through their stations, Tristram had often spoken of his high regard for the man, who was arguably the best strategist out of the Guardians, compensating for the relative lack of size of his legion to outwit and outmanoeuvre foes. Cai had witnessed his expertise first hand, and the Guardian had spent time teaching the boy about the finer points of war, providing excellent advice during the time they spent planning the attack on Jeksaan. His Wargate technique could definitely change the outcome of an entire battle, or even a war.

"A pleasure to see you again," the man replied, and Tristram turned his head to the praetorians, impassively locking eyes with Drax's condescending orbs for a second before ignoring the other man. Unlike his public rivalry with Guardian Oleic of Civitas Sol, his distaste of Drax didn't extend beyond a mutual dislike of each other, and so most of the time they were content to just blank each other out.

"The other Light-bearers and generals are currently in the middle of a strategy session, having had extra time to plan due to Cai's decision to rest your army," Tristram explained, patting Cai on the back and gently leading him towards the tent next to his father's one, Guardian Weiss and general Rateis following behind him. Only the most influential leaders of the conjoined legions would be permitted entrance to the strategium, so that meant Caiellis's advisers and the captains of his army wouldn't be allowed access. He was confident that the quartermasters and organisers of the armies would be able to negotiate a suitable location for his men to rest, if they hadn't done so already which would be unsurprising, as the organisation of the (unwieldy and lumbering compared to some other forces, like an unstoppable and slow juggernaut) legions was a task taken very seriously.

"Uncle Tristram?" the boy asked, trotting behind the man and letting him lead the way despite already knowing where the pavilion containing the war council would be situated, as the layout of this camp was the exact same as the one he had slept in earlier, albeit much larger. The Guardian smiled down at him, amused by how he had been graced by his title now, "Yes?"

"Did you get the chance to tell my father of the change of plans?" Cai inquired, phrasing the question as to try and not offend the man, who would have undoubtedly been very busy, and Tristram smirked at the kid's choice of words.

But angels above, Caiellis hoped that the Guardian had informed the king of his decision to rest his troops, as whilst Marik had forestalled the attack on the force blocking them from Usnaan that had been located by aerial scouts – they inhabited an outpost that was quite heavily fortified, for the Welkalites anyway – and chosen to wait for his youngest's host, his dad would be furious if he didn't know the reasons behind it and assumed that his son hadn't bothered to contact him about the delay.

"Of course I did," Tristram snorted, sensing a slight bit of worry in his student's tone that betrayed the boy's apprehensiveness at having to potentially face the monarch's ire again, as well as a more concealed concern at the meeting with his dad in general. He felt sorry for the kid, as instead of sending him to Scientia Mos – something that would have definitely improved his individuality and independence, as well as teaching him how to get an army ready for battle and lead it – Marik should have tried to repair their relationship by instructing the lad himself, with his brother when Alex had recovered enough to learn about (well, reinforce his knowledge of, as Tybalt had been a sterling teacher despite the danger they were in, and Tristram had been able to contribute to the strategy lessons as well), as actually teaching Caiellis something and helping him along with it would have drastically strengthened their kinship, instead of thrusting the boy out on his own – not that Caiellis was incapable, as any doubts any may have had as to his ability were crushed.

Personally, if it was up to Tristram then Cai wouldn't be going to war. Yes, while the Angel of the Black Sun was a massively important military asset (in spite of the youngest prince's relative inexperience with her) and should be utilised, the boy was only just a teenager and had spent nine years of his young life already embroiled in violence and brutality no-one his age should have to suffer through, and now that the imminent danger to Lucael had ceased and the Lucerna heirs had been rescued from Usnaan, he could be left in peace until he was an adult. That applied to his older brother as well, who did only have to wait ten months until his eighteenth birthday, and Tristram didn't think he should be on his way with reinforcements anyway.

But he supposed that Alex wouldn't be able to rest knowing that his little brother was in brutal fighting and he wasn't able to help or protect the younger boy, as the protective instinct he had developed ever since first meeting Cai was tremendously enlarged during the peril they had been in for the past nine years, when handed the unconscious younger prince and told to run out of the city as Tybalt and Tristram covered their retreat out of the palace, which had been attacked on that fateful night (although Marik in his vengeance had killed every single last one of the enemies attacking the Lucerna palace, and then mustered the defence of Capitalia Lux after his children had gone).

One could advocate that because Alexander and Caiellis had already lost their childhoods to war, and that they were basically adults now who were no strangers to battles and violence, they should lead the Lucaelian legions from the front with their First Sisterhood angels, and that it would be a huge waste to just keep them in the city and let them live a little before eventualy thrusting them back into war, but whoever thought that would be one of the people that thought of the Lucerna lines as more than human and would most likely be aghast at the mention of that happening to their own children.

Tristram thought differently, as did Tybalt. They believed that the boys should be able to live in peace, free of the threat to their lives that had been a constant danger in the civil war, for at least a few years. They deserved that, at the very least, but Marik had decreed that he wanted them at his side and whilst Tristram would still argue and disagree with that, he wouldn't do it in a way that would distract the king now that they were on a crusade and Marik needed to be focussed if they were going to be victorious. At least Cai fighting alongside his father would help to improve their relationship and make them closer to each other, as through aiding each other and silently learning about each other they would be able to understand one another better.

Despite both boys having elements of both their parents in them, such as Caiellis's colder and more analytical personality coupled with Emili's fascination with knowledge, and Alex's open character combined with the king's notion of honour and combat aptitude, and the fact that they shared factors as well, the main problem with the relationship between father and youngest son was that neither really understood the other, and that any attempt either made to comfort or open up to the other was floundering and done in the completely wrong manner.

That was reminiscent of the different ways in which the princes' lives had been changed on that day, due the respective amounts of time each spent with their perfect family before it was torn apart.

Marik understood Alexander more because in essence the eldest's core personality hadn't changed much, whereas at the young age of four Caiellis didn't really have one or been aware of himself and the world around him enough to develop one, in spite of the fact that his brain was far superior to others' at that age and could follow conversations, just not interact in them all that well (though still better than all other four year olds).

Both had faced loss, but Alex was more hopeful and reassuring for Marik to return to the way that he had been like (a long process that could easily stop, but Tristram had to admit that his friend was getting better) because he could remember the perfect family in greater detail than his younger brother, and so tried to soften things for Cai as he didn't understand loss as well as the oldest of the two. He forgave Marik's mistakes because he could recall how the man had once been with much greater clarity whereas Cai could only remember fragments of that time, and because he wanted to be able to share that with his little brother.

Caiellis was much more familiar with deprivation than loss – as he had never really been old enough to remember back before the civil war in any detail, and had lived a significantly larger proportion of his life within it than his brother had. He was more critical of his father because he couldn't believe that the man had been that different in the past as he couldn't back it up with experience and thoughts. He understood the things that he had every right to but in the grand scheme of things had never had, which was why he was more inclined to pursue the things that he wanted – such as a loving father – rather than cling to the things he already had. It didn't help either way that Marik was better at showing love to his eldest due to his greater time spent with the boy and the fact that Alexander was more trusting and willing to let him in.

He remembered one night in the civil war, where the boys had talked in their shared bed (as they often had done, because kids did talk - incessantly on occasion) and thought that he couldn't hear them, that aptly represented his current thoughts.

They were just kids, Alex only a month (and eight days, as the boy seemingly kept a tally of the days left until he was thirteen) off becoming a teenager and that meant that Caiellis would become nine the subsequent month. Tristram could hear their whispered conversation underneath the woollen blankets in the bed of the current safe-house next to the sofa he lay on, having given the other bed to Tybalt (who was snoring softly).

"Alex?" came Caiellis's hushed inquiry, waiting a moment before asking, "Are you still awake?"

"Is that supposed to be a trick question?" the older boy grumbled under his breath, "How could I have fallen asleep with all the damn moving around you are doing?"

"Sorry big brother," Cai murmured softly, "I can't get to sleep."

"And that is my problem because?" Alex replied, his whisper full of annoyance at not being able to go to sleep due to the younger boy, and then groaned, "It's bad enough that I have to share a bed with you, I've gotta listen to you speak all night too?"

Cai averted his gaze from the older boy, letting it meander across the dark room and picturing the shadows growing claws and stretching them out to stab him, just like how the demon that had killed his mother had impaled them through her stomach. He snuggled up closer to the lean, vaguely skinny and reassuring form of Alex, who sighed softly, "Just try to get to sleep, squirt. You're gonna feel it in the morning if you don't."

And it was silent once again. For maybe two seconds. Tristram heard the rustling of restless and fearful shifting, once, twice. And again. And one more time-

"Oh for angels' sake!" Alex hissed, still ensuring to keep his voice low that he wouldn't wake up the elders in the room, as neither were aware that Tristram was listening in.

"Alex?" the younger boy asked again, his voice suffused with a sullen tone mixed with youthful innocence and fear, and the middle Lucerna let out a frustrated breath. "What do you want now? I'm trying to get to sleep."

"What if none of our lives is real?"

"Have you lost your min-" the twelve year old began, before Caiellis silenced him with a loud and very exaggerated, "SHHHHHHHH! Lower your voice, Alex, I think I can hear Tristram waking up."

Does anything get past this kid? Tristram thought, taking a deep and sleepy inhalation and releasing it as a long and languid exhalation that was sure to assure the boys that they were the only ones awake (as Tybalt's snoring was persisting). A sudden, amusing thought occurred to the twenty-five year old – what if the ancient man was actually listening in as well, and pretending to be asleep with those over-emphasised snores?

"I mean, what if none of this exists at all? What if it is just some massive illusion?" the boy questioned, flicking his eyes from Alex's back to the ceiling, and then back down to his older brother again when the boy turned around in the bed to look at him, prompting Tristram to wonder what the kid had been reading recently, as the youngest member of their party then asked: "What if you aren't called Alexander? What if my name isn't Caiellis Noctis Lucerna at all?"

"It isn't. Your real name is dickhead," Alexander sniggered, and Tristram had to repress a smirk, as well as feel slightly ashamed because of the fact that his eldest charge had almost definitely picked up on some of his profanities from Tristram's own colourful range that he often used (though tried not to do it in front of the children, or Emili's ghost would come down from heaven and slap him) in tense situations, although the fact that Alex usually hung out and made friends with older kids in the cities they stayed in would have also expanded his vocabulary.

"You aren't funny," Cai scolded his older brother, who joked back: "I'm a comedic genius actually," but was ignored by his sibling, "And I'm being serious. What if this reality that we think we have lived in all our lives is just a figment of our imagination, or a dream?"

The intelligence of this kid is ridiculous sometimes. Tristram resolved to ask Tybalt to see if the man knew of any books concerning such things, as the man's mind was a veritable repository of knowledge and he also knew (and often recommended) Cai's current reading material, though whenever they visited a city with a library the boy would systematically devour books until they had to leave and as such Tybalt might not know what he had been recently reading. At any rate, how many other eight year olds were this smart? Tristram wished for all their sakes that this civil war was a just a dream.

He heard a rustle of movement, and then a thump of a fist hitting a thin arm, and then a half-stifled yelp of pain. "Ow-W! Alex! What was that for?"

"Don't be such a baby," the addressed admonished in a vaguely taunting manner, and then said, "Would that hurt if this was just a dream?"

"That's not the point," Cai replied, rubbing his arm, glaring and pouting at the older boy, and Tristram detected the sound of hair being ruffled far too roughly for the recipient's liking, "How would I be able to distinguish whether or not that pain is real if that sort of pain is the only type I've ever experienced?"

Angels above. This kid might have been adopted from the Yentarian Republic after all, Tristram thought. He was considering intervening, to try and say something to reassure the boy, but knew through years of it happening that Alex would be able to say the right thing, the thing that his little brother needed to hear at any rate. Or tease him further. That remained to be seen, but Cai's voice was serious enough that the middle Lucerna would know to answer the question properly and Alex had already ribbed his little brother enough for now.

"You know, Cai, you're pretty smart for your age, you know that?" Alex ruffled his brother's hair again, although it was much more affectionately than the first instance, and neither Tristram nor Alexander needed light to know that there would be a goofy smile on Caiellis's young face.

"Not as smart as you, big brother," the boy replied, and Alexander snorted again. "Ha, yeah right. I don't know half of the shit that you do, little dude."

"You're more world smart than me though. Reciting a list of mathematical rules isn't going to help me fend off demons, nor is listing the achievements of different Lucerna rulers," Cai insisted, and Alex smiled patently, knowing that no matter what he said that Caiellis would continue to believe that his big brother was his superior just because of the age and maturity difference. Sometimes he was sure that the boy practically worshipped the ground on which he stood. "And books can only get you so far, especially in our world."

It hurt Tristram's heart to admit it, but he knew exactly what Cai meant by "our world" - a world of monsters, demons and traitorous uncles all wanting the boys' blood, a world in which peace was only measured in the space between attacks and stability only lasted a couple of weeks at best until the place in which they stayed was inevitably besieged, and a world in which their mother had been killed and their father wasn't able to be with them. The two men had tried to be as nice as possible about it, knowing that their charges were still extremely young, but there was only so much about creatures from the darkness tearing people apart that you could sugar coat.

The kingdom was supposed to have been the most powerful in its entire history, and the darkness was therefore apparently at its weakest, after the desolation of the Grafnica Dominion roughly fifty years ago that had plagued and terrorised the people of Lucael even before the reign of Matalis Ortus Lucerna the forces of the abyss were said to be much weaker, and a new dawn had to come to the Kingdom of Light after many years of brutal warfare with the Grafnica.

"I'll teach you if you teach me, fair enough?" Alex asked, and his brother nodded, then he stopped and his face creased in consternation as he remembered that Alex hadn't yet answered his question, just diverted his mind away from the topic. He was about to speak, before the older boy got in first, evidently not finished yet, and said, "And sometimes you think too much. Look, squirt, I know you want reassurance, for your big brother to tell you to stop being stupid and that there is only one "real", but I can't, because I don't actually know. What I do know is that the reality that we live in is the only one that I know for certain we have. This might be all a dream, I don't know. But it's a dream that I can live in and change, and it's a dream where I have a kid brother who refuses to fall asleep to look after."

A silence fell as presumably Caiellis considered the implications of his big brother's words, just as Tristram was doing the same, marvelling as usual at their extremely strong bond.

"I've been thinking," Caiellis began softly, to which his brother teased, "That's never a good sign."

The younger boy glowered silently before continuing, "About something. It relates to what I was talking about earlier, but..."

"May as well hear it then, since we're awake. But promise me you'll go to sleep afterwards," Alex replied, wrapping his relatively thin arm around Caiellis's thinner shoulders to comfort his little brother, who had begun shaking, and the younger boy nodded sadly.

"What if … What if mum and dad weren't real? What if mum and dad didn't ever exist?" Cai cried quietly, making Tristram want to go over and hug the boy – not that he would appreciate it, as the youngest prince had a severe dislike of the boys' physical trainer. It was times like this that the next in line to the post of Guardian was brutally reminded that despite Caiellis's intelligence, he was only eight years old, though just looking at the thin child (as he had quickly lost the vague pudginess (as he had always naturally been thin, just like his poor mother) due to the abrupt removal of his previous comfy lifestyle) would force someone to acknowledge that. Both of the boys were thin because of the lifestyle that they led, but the younger brother significantly more so than his elder and at times looked starved. "I … I barely even remember them … what if they were just a dream?"

"Little brother," Alex started, his voice comforting but also firm, his grip on Cai's shoulder tightening, but not to the extent that it would hurt the smaller Lucerna. "I can tell you for a fact that mum and dad are real. You may not be able to remember them well, because you were really young and only four when mum died, but I can, as I was your age now at the time. And I'm telling you now that they are real, but you already know that, kay?"

"m'kay," Cai mumbled in response, pushing his head into Alex's chest and letting the tears fall out of his large and tired green eyes, though stifling his sniffles and whimpers so that neither of the adults in the room would awaken or worry. If Tristram didn't think that his eldest student didn't have control of the emotional situation, then he would have stepped in, but Alexander's little brother brought out the twelve year old's gentle side. Alex hugged the younger boy close, feeling just how painfully thin he was (although he was aware that he wasn't quite the muscular and macho teenager he envisioned himself to be, but knew that would change if he kept at his current exercise regime and once the war was over he could eat more protein), and gently tilted Cai's head up, both so that he could wipe the streaming tears out of the kid's puffy eyes and so that he could meet his dejected gaze.

"I bet dad is thinking of us right now," Alex uttered quietly, and the hope in Cai's voice made Tristram unable to suppress a smile, "Really? You think so?"

"Of course he is. He's looking forward to seeing us, just like we are looking forward to seeing him. That's why he's gonna win this war, and bring peace back to Lucael. I'd say that he thinks of us when he's fighting as well, so that he knows what he needs to keep safe, and why he has to beat the traitors. Well, keep you safe anyway, I can look after myself. So that's why we need to live in this reality, because if we die then dad will have no one to come back to after the war."

Tristram would like to say that he agreed with the boy's words which were full of utter conviction and almost literal worship for Marik, but he had to mentally refute them, as sad as it was.

The most probable thing that Marik thought of when in combat wasn't his refugee sons, but his dead wife – Tristram had seen the fire, the utter hatred, in the king's eyes when he had finally stood up from Emili's prone body and stopped howling at the ceiling in anguish. That hatred, the detestation of the traitors, would be what the monarch would be thinking of while prosecuting his war, not the innocent but emotionally hurt sons he would have to return to once it was done. Of course, he would never say that to Alex and Cai, as it would completely contradict the eldest's words and would probably thrust them both into depression. He just hoped that Marik would be able to push aside his hatred for his boys when the war ended – if they were all still alive.

"Now get some sleep, short stuff. You know you're really grumpy when you're tired in the morning," Alex snickered.

"Am not," Cai protested sleepily, rubbing his eyes and extricating himself from the hug, turning back over in the bed.

"Just remember that you are safe with me, Tristram and Tybalt," Alex assured him, "And we will never let anything happen to you."

""Uncle" Tybalt," Cai corrected, and Alex sniggered, "Yeah, whatever. You can go to sleep now."

Tristram quickly shut his eyes when the older boy turned around in the bed, but opened them again when he knew that Alexander had seen him watching, and met the bright blue orbs of the middle Lucerna, who gave him a grin and then turned back around, throwing an arm around his little brother to emphasise his earlier words. As he heard the boys both falling asleep, Caiellis succumbing to his tiredness in less than two minutes and Alex ensuring he stayed awake until that point and then following his little brother into sleep, he silently wondered whether Cai would ever like him enough to favour him with the esteemed title of "Uncle". He doubted it.

"Getting easily distracted in our old age, are we?" a youthful voice cut into his flashback, the words sounding like something Alexander would say in jest but instead belonging to his little brother. Tristram immediately snapped out of his reverie, realising that it had only been a few seconds that he had been distracted – but a few seconds could be enough to ambush and assassinate the prince. He shook his head at the uncharacteristic lapse in concentration, vowing that it would never happen again, and then scowled as his brain processed the content of Cai's words and he playfully clapped the boy on the back of the head.

"Watch it, kid," the man pretended to be massively offended as soldiers bowed respectfully as they passed, "I'm in the prime of my youth. And if you think that Alex beating you up is painful, then you will be in for a shock if you say anything more like that."

"It got your attention," Cai replied, as if taking the Guardian's threat completely seriously and trying to present adequate justification for his actions – highlighting that he wasn't as comfortable with joking as his brother, so Tristram cut to the point and asked, "Did you say anything earlier?"

"Yeah. I asked how dad took the news when you told him," Cai turned to look at the older male, having overtaken him when the Capitalia Lux Guardian had fallen into his reminiscing, which had barely ever happened to the usually intensely alert Tristram. His expressive green orbs twinkled orange in the last vestiges of light from the falling sun, making them look even more mysterious and intelligent. Evidently Cai wanted to hear his "Uncle's" answer before entering the strategy session, and he looked up at the man expectantly.

"He took it … reasonably well," Tristram replied hesitantly, though was quick to rectify his mistake when Cai's eyes narrowed, the youngest prince clearly suspecting that he was trying to cover something up, "No, really. I'm not trying to hide anything from you, Cai, and you know that I wouldn't do that. All your father said was "Ah". Nothing else."

"Thank you, Uncle Tristram," said Cai, breaking into a small and nervous smile and motivating the man to tap him on the back to encourage him. The two golden-clad praetorians outside of the entrance to the vast tent bowed their heads and uncrossed their halberds that were barring the access to the strategium, allowing the prince to pass into the room once they had validated his identity due to the Lucerna birthmark on his right cheek making his royal heritage unmistakable. The boy strode in first, as was his right, followed close behind by Tristram and then Weiss and Rateis, who entered after a very minute delay.

Cai looked across the interior of the large pavilion in which the strategium was located, his eyes landing on several of the important figures surrounding a rectangular table showing a more focussed version of the map of the known world that had been the centre of attention of the first war council he had ever attended (as an official member of the discussion, he had once toddled into one with his father before) in Civitas Sol; this map concentrated on Welkas and its border with Lucael, and seemed to have been made specifically for this war.

In the split second before anyone spoke but all turned their gazes towards the newcomers, Guardian Oleic falling silent and accidentally letting a glower directed at Caiellis out of his brown eyes before he crushed it underneath generic dutiful respect. Caiellis analysed each member of the strategizing in detail as he swept his green eyes over them – first, the Guardian of the City of the Sun bowed his head, probably in the vain hope that the littlest Lucerna hadn't noticed the disrespect, and his golden armour glinted in the white light tinted slightly yellow coming from the dancing wisps illuminating the inside of the tent, as now that the sun had set darkness was descending on the camp - despite it only being around half-past the eighteenth hour, though Cai supposed that it was still winter and Welkas would be affected by that just like the rest of the world (though he doubted that it would snow like it did in Lucael because of the heat of the days in spite of it being the coldest season).

He glanced over at Guardian Lelia of Gol Secondus, the twenty-two year old having taken a Vow of Silence after the slaughter of the people of the formerly introspective and peaceful City of Quiet nine years, only several days after Caiellis's mother had been killed and what had been assumed to be a simple rebellious ploy for power from Johnias (as civil wars, while extremely rare, had happened twice in the past before that as White mana users fought other wielders of the magic of light (although one was when Xarius was dethroned)) had been revealed to be much more malevolent and corrupt.

Lelia would have only been his current age when she had rallied the last remaining troops and lead the retreat from the massacre – if she hadn't acted, then the entire population (barring a small sliver that could get out) would have been murdered as an offering to the dark patrons of the traitors' armies – when her older brother that was five years her senior had been murdered, and the city fell into panic, she had been the one to fight against the demons to ensure her people's safety. She had performed incredible acts of bravery during the war, despite never speaking after it, and as Caiellis looked into her dark blue eyes he wondered if he could do the same, if Alexander had been killed and the city fell apart around him.

She was very pretty, apart from a long scar that must have been inflicted by some sort of serrated blade that ran down the left side of her face, missing her eye by inches, and tilted her head in a brief gesture of supplication to the young prince.

Cai pondered what the quiet (and only female, for some reason) Guardian thought of him – if she hated him because of his inherent Black mana that had led to the near-extermination of her people, or if she thought that he was a spoilt brat because of his position as a prince, though Lelia would indubitably know of the dangers he had been forced to face (as although the scale of them was reduced (however he had been in the First Siege of Cassida Principia (with the last being the final battle in the war)) the life-threatening intensity had not, though Cai still thought what he had suffered through paled in comparison to her life).

All he could see in the mysterious sapphire eyes was respect, but Lelia would be used to masking her own thoughts so it wouldn't be any trouble for her to make sure that this was all he observed. Cai figured that, in a way, he could empathise with the twenty-two year old, as her perfect life had also been ripped away, but Caiellis had had his big brother to help him through it whereas Lelia's had been brutally butchered by Teylaisian Illustri, traitorous Guardian of Vectura, and she had to do it alone. Then again, if Alexander died then Cai would have no trouble whatsoever with a Vow of Silence, as while Uncle Tybalt and Uncle Tristram were nice it would be easy not to speak without his brother there to encourage him to.

He briefly thought about talking to Lelia about their shared experiences, but that was entirely infeasible as first she had undertaken a Vow of Silence until the perpetrators of the civil war had been brought to justice (Cai supposed that he had helped with that by eliminating Garod Morr, the third of the six Dark-bearers to be killed) and secondly he didn't want to share his inner emotions with anyone apart from Alex, although he had hidden the fact that he was the one who had murdered the demons that had killed Emili, not his father, from him all his life.

He examined each of the important figures surrounding the table in detail, until he got to the final one in his extremely fast tour of the war council (as while Cai had thought about a large amount of things, it had still been less than three seconds since he entered the room), the one that he was at the same time equal amounts dreading but excited to see, though still didn't expect much because of the fact that they were in a war and his attention would be on that – what remains to be seen is whether or not that will prevent him from being warm or pleasant, especially because we are in a war and therefore his youngest child should get emotional support to help him through it.

Caiellis's green orbs met the stern blue eyes of his father, the irises like sheets of inscrutable ice simply reflecting his son instead of giving any hints as to what was going on inside, if it was disapproval or love – though at the moment he doubted the latter, but then again Marik had always found it harder to show love than their mother and Alex, who had inherited Emili's traits there. Cai knew that technically he should be kneeling in front of the king of the entire nation, as he had just entered his presence, but like Tristram he remained standing while Weiss and Rateis bowed reverently.

Caiellis inclined his head slightly, though his eyes didn't break off from staring at his dad's impenetrable two, trying to get even a little clue that would allow him to discern if he would be loved or spurned, congratulated on his first proper victory and praised on his independence and empathy in choosing to follow the needs of his army over the needs of the plan or chastised because of the delay he caused and the fact that he had disobeyed – but if dad had had any problems with it, he could have easily contacted Cai, and if he had done so then Caiellis wouldn't have been petty and ignored them.

Then Marik's face creased into a scowl, his austere features tainted by cold disapproval and accusation, though at least not anger, and said, "Nice of you to finally join us, my youngest son, Guardian Weiss, General Rateis," he stood up from his seat, the most ornate in the room befitting his station as monarch and supreme commander and embellished with the Blade of Wrath that was imprinted on Marik's bare throat, though made no moves towards his son, preferring to stay where he was stood at the other end of the tent instead of embracing his youngest in a hug or grabbing him threateningly.

Cai's heart sank, but he made sure to stand as tall and straight as he could instead of falling to his knees despondently and wrapping his arms around them like he wanted to do. He hadn't realised it, but the boy had inadvertently built up expectation inside of him, excited by the mere possibility of Marik acting differently and following up on his apparent desire to start anew with the boy. Cai mentally cursed at his own stupidity, and hated the fact that even after all the king had done to him some naïve inner part of his psyche subconsciously was still willing to forgive dad if the man was nice and loving towards him and Alexander, not that he wasn't with the older boy.

If it had been anyone else who had almost crushed his arm, then Alex would have confronted them about it – no, that's not fair. When Alexander discovered my self-harming he instantly went to fight dad over the fact that he didn't care, and only because of that did he spend "bonding" time with me in the first place. My brother was just wounded, that's all – and anyway, I don't know if Alex said anything to dad or not after I left.

At any rate, the words "I love you, and look forward to seeing you again," sounded much more hollow and ridiculous now, but Cai let himself believe that there was still the infinitesimally small possibility that Marik was just putting on a show about disobedience to seem fair and just and so that Caiellis would learn not to do it again, and would be warmer out of the war council, but quickly quashed that absurd notion. If dad started off with disciplining and admonition, then past experience taught Caiellis that he would continue on in that way or get even worse.

He straightened his posture, determined the weather the bombardment of accusations and reprimanding words that was sure to come so that they could get on with the more pressing issue of planning for the coming battle. The host of the Angel of the Black Sun didn't want to argue back, as that could be seen as disrespectful and the father and son weren't alone – even so, if they were he still wouldn't give into the temptation to shout back, as he had promised Alexander that he would not argue with their dad, and a promise to his big brother was a promise he would try his damned hardest not to break, despite the fact that the eldest and youngest Lucernas seemed to have the ability to push each other's buttons and force them to explode. Cai would let his dad's hypocrisy and stupidity go unanswered, for now.

"Tell me, what made you think that spending an additional two hours at Jeksaan was acceptable? What part of the words "as soon as possible" can you not understand?" Marik demanded, his voice coloured with a hint of anger that only a few in the room, those who had witnessed it or been a recipient of it, would recognise, and the others would just assume that it was the usual disciplining tone he used on unruly subjects.

"Huh?" Cai replied uncertainly despite himself, his mind still not yet finished processing his thoughts and unprepared for the questions, and the man's austere features darkened, "You heard perfectly well. But since you seem to be unable to understand simple commands these days, I'll repeat it for your benefit. Why did you stay for a further two hours at Jeksaan after defeating Warlord Farcez?"

"..." Caiellis didn't say anything, sensing the fury at having the plans changed underneath his father's skin, which only served to incense the man further, "Well?"

The youngest Lucerna's green eyes flicked to the side, looking up at Uncle Tristram, who appeared just as startled as he was but controlling it better. The Guardian stared back down, expecting the kid's gaze to be full of blame, but mildly surprised to find that it was frightened, and with tears welling up at the corners until Cai brushed them away before turning back to his coldly furious father and king.

"If you had an issue with it you should have told me earlier," Cai started off mumbling quietly but then made sure that his voice was loud enough to be heard, though not defiant, which, if the conversation had come up only a few days ago, would have been what his youthful voice would be filled with, but right now he didn't want to start a fight. He just wanted to get this over and done with and carry on with the strategizing, and to that purpose he stayed perfectly still, his body language non-threatening but certainly not submissive, as his point still stood and he was beginning to get annoyed at dad blithely launching condemnation after condemnation without considering his own mistakes in the equation that had led to this – not just now, but all the time in Cai's young eyes. "I wouldn't have objected if you called and ordered me to move the army."

"Really? You're a thirteen year old boy, Caiellis, do you need me to constantly tell you what to do? Are you incapable of thinking about the consequences of your own actions?" Marik questioned, though Cai knew not to answer them as they were rhetorical – whilst delaying the plan for his army's comfort may have been selfish and ultimately detrimental to the war effort, he still supported his decision.

He personally thought the plan still smacked of impatience and not fully utilising their advantage of winning in the long term, despite the fact that it did actually incorporate some of the characteristics of his own strategy, otherwise they would be besieging Usnaan now (and would currently be in the act of being slaughtered by hordes of berserkers and their demonic masters). At any rate, his father still ignored his statement, which made Cai think that maybe he had forgotten about it.

No, despite what Caiellis may personally believe, his dad wasn't an idiot, and wouldn't forget about something important like that. It was just more trivial things, like his youngest's thirteenth birthday, that he neglected to remember, and Cai could have laughed sadly when his father hadn't even known his own age when they had first spoken after the civil war (just after he failed another one of Orzhova's trials). It was children who were supposed to forget how old their parents were, but Caiellis had remembered each of dad's birthdays and kept account of his age.

"Well? Are you not even going to answer my questions? Or am I not deserving of it?" Marik snapped again, and Caiellis felt his blood begin to boil. The effort of preventing his body from trembling with anger and sadness was costing him dearly, despite knowing how to do it well after their first talk, and the time that his father had almost broken his arm, already. It still hurt in the background, but the hand shaped bruise that was still stark (though now it was purple instead of an angry red) on his pale skin was now throbbing in time to Marik's words, as if the voice of the man who had caused it was exacerbating the discomfort.

"I wasn't going to," Caiellis raised his eyes from where they had meandered dejectedly to the stone floor, as the camp was situated on a rocky outcropping, and met his dad's wrathful gaze, "Because I can tell that you are in the sort of mood where you will just shout me down no matter what I say."

"How dare you..." Marik growled, taking a menacing step towards the kid, who took one back despite himself, and about to take another until a large and reassuring hand was placed on his thin shoulder. Tristram squeezed firmly to both comfort Cai, and to show Marik that he wouldn't be allowed to touch his son in a hurtful manner while he was here. The king glanced at the Guardian, cocking an eyebrow as if to say "Do you really think I'd hurt my own son?", but the man didn't release his grip as he sensed that the support was helping little Caiellis, though it was contradicting the fact that he should be on the king's side.

"My lord. May I speak-" Guardian Weiss began, and Marik turned to him, "No. You may not. I'm intending to have words with you and General Rateis about why you did nothing to dissuade my son about his foolish course of action. However, do not think that I am blaming you, as it is your duty to serve the Lucerna in command and so you would have just followed Caiellis's imprudent orders. I will ask you one final time, Caiellis. Why did you stay at Jeksaan?"

"I..." he started off shakily, but instantly rectified his mistake and made his tone more confident, though whether that would earn him brownie points in his father's book or not was unknown to the youngster, "I thought that giving my army more time to rest and recuperate would be beneficial in the long run, as instead of arriving with exhausted troops I've come with a fresh and fully operational force ready for the attack on Fort Egetau." Cai stated, reading the name of their next target on the map when he quickly flicked his eyes over it. Tristram had to let out a small smile at how Caiellis had seemed to already analysed the plan on the map despite being in the midst of a very serious conversation with Marik, but the little guy had always been a quick learner and grasped topics he shouldn't have been able to at his age.

Tristram knew that Alexander was a quicker thinker, able to make decisions more instinctively and knowing with a gut feeling that it was the correct course of action without analysing it for flaws like his little brother would do – normally it made no difference, and Cai's method was in fact better when they weren't in severe danger, but in combat Alex's speed was one of the main factors for his victories, as well as his strength. The boys' differing methodology when fighting fit their styles of using magic or physical attacks more than the other, but it put Cai at a clear disadvantage if he didn't have access to his magic.

"Which would already be in ruins if you had just followed my commands, but then you never were the highest achieving son," Marik uttered, and Cai's eyes widened. He had never expected the man to say anything like that, and the words stung him, but they hurt more because he knew they were true. Caiellis had always been chasing behind his big brother, never able to compete with him, but didn't want to think of that now, and the fact that Alex had never seen him as an inferior, just a younger sibling or a friend to teach about the world that would, with time, become as good as him, had made it bearable. He couldn't think of that now, or he would start screaming at his dad, something that he wasn't going to let happen, not at the current moment.

"And neither were you, Marik, so can we please stop this pointless squabbling and get on with what actually matters?" Hierarch Tybalt's harsh and strict voice cut through the anger that the king was feeling, anger that he didn't know the source of – yes, it had irritated him that Caiellis had taken it upon himself to decide upon what to do without paying attention to the wider plan, but had only been intending to discipline him in front of the war council so that the mistake wouldn't have been repeated, as if he had just called Caiellis and told him to march their the boy would have silently railed against it even as he obeyed, and would have been in a bad mood as soon as he got here.

But the way that his youngest son reacted to perfectly reasonable criticism and censure was just … so damn angering. Whether he stayed petulantly silent or shouted back, Caiellis constantly challenged instead of accepting his father's orders. He hadn't meant to get so annoyed or worked up, especially in front of the legion commanders, who were watching with wide eyes, or speak the harsh words he had just said.

Marik knew full well how demeaning it was to be compared to one's more successful brother, and it was even worse for Caiellis because instead of the gap in the brothers' ages being four minutes, it was four years – or perhaps not, as he wasn't measured against Alexander as much as he had been against his twin when they were teenagers. It was unfair to say that to his youngest son, who certainly looked hurt by it, as obviously a seventeen year old would be superior to his thirteen year old sibling in most areas, but he wasn't about to go and apologise and waste more time, as well as risk seeming foolish, inconsistent and unwilling to stay with his points of view – or even weak, or at the very least having weakness for his children - in front of his subjects.

"Yes. Yes we can," Marik noticed how he had began to shake with barely repressed anger, but luckily not enough for anyone else to notice (or at least he hoped so), and grabbed hold of his son's shoulder, breaking him off from Tristram who glared at him, the Guardian as usual not afraid to show his distaste of some of his king's actions – which was one of the many reasons Marik liked him, but sometimes it was downright irritating. Such as now. He forcefully, but not violently or with the intent to hurt the small and frail lad, seated Caiellis in the chair next to his own, the boy's eyes betraying the fact that he was scared by the touch. Angels above! Why does it always have to be frightened sadness, defiant anger or accusing silence? Why can I never just have respect and a son's love and adoration, just like Alexander gives me?

"Right then, back to the planning," Marik glared at his son for a second, the boy returning it coldly, looking as if he simply didn't care that he was disrespecting his father and king by doing so. He broke away from Caiellis's green orbs, and looked back to the map, as the rest of those still stood up became seated also. He began to explain the main attack plan also, letting the other generals elaborate on the duties their forces would be completing, resisting the urge to grin proudly when Caiellis calmly informed one of them of a clearly superior plan of attack, despite the fact that they had been debating it for two hours already – Marik had been about to say something, but his normally reticent youngest had cut in before he could. However, smiling now would reduce the potency of his earlier words or completely nullify their intended effect.

"Does anyone have any questions or concerns with the plan?" Marik asked, methodically scanning the faces of his generals one by one and only finding dutiful loyalty, and genuine respect and admiration that the king wished he could see from his youngest son. Cai opened his mouth to speak and share his severe dislike of the plan, once again finding it far too reckless and fast rather than taking their time and ensuring victory – the Welkalites could have hidden anything in Fort Egetau – but before the first word even escape his mouth, his father, without turning around, interrupted him, snapping, "Shut your mouth, Caiellis. I am not changing the entire plan simply because of your foolish desire to make everything take twice as long as it is supposed to just to preserve men and to reduce all the risks. War is about risks, and it is about taking the initiative, so I'd appreciate it if you managed to get that idea in your head."

Well that was unnecessarily rude, Cai thought, his dad's words more harsh and insulting than they needed to be – he hadn't actually said anything yet! He glared at the man for a second, and although Marik didn't turn to him a vaguely smug grin worked its way onto his otherwise cold features, so imperceptible and fast that Caiellis was left mulling over if it had happened, or if his brain had just imagined it so that he had more to dislike dad for. Looking again, the king simply seemed austere and stony, but slightly frustrated with his youngest son and himself for letting them both get out of control. You are the adult, but I don't expect anything mature like an apology from you so don't worry. Caiellis wondered how strongly he would have refuted his father acting like this if he went back in time and spoke to himself – his expectations of the man had gone from impossibly high to an all-time low where he anticipated disdain and severity.

"Are we all ready then?" Marik inquired, those who had been there when the Scientia Mos commanders arrived around ten minutes ago nodding solemnly whilst the others looked at each other in confusion.

"Wait, what?" Cai immediately questioned, and Marik resisted the urge to punch the table in frustration, instead settling on a long and disappointed sigh of resentment, an exhalation that he hoped encapsulated his irritation at the constant defiance and questioning, his fists clenching before he forced himself to relax his hands. Sometimes I wish I could gag that boy, he thought, and then silently reprimanded himself – his youngest son was quiet enough already, it was just that whenever he did say something it seemed to always be at the wrong moment - in his father's presence, at any rate.

According to Tybalt and Tristram, and more recently Alexander (who knew more about his little brother than the Light-bearers), Caiellis had been quite the chatterbox when he was younger, though still not to the extent that Alex talked as he had still be nervous around talking to people he didn't know whilst his older son was amiable and confident. His apparently "geeky" little boy (his eldest's wording, not his own) used to ask philosophical questions and constantly want to learn more, or adversely shared and rattled off his own extensive knowledge about obscure things, and while Marik had experienced a small bit of that Caiellis was far more quiet (unless he was shouting defiantly, in which case it seemed he could yell the entire palace down should he choose to).

"My men haven't even been here for ten minutes yet, and most of them will still be in the process of setting up the tents," Caiellis continued, his voice only tinged with recalcitrance, but mostly it seemed like the kid was trying to plead with his father instead of refuse. Well that wasn't going to work; the boy had already metaphorically dragged his heels enough today and Marik was not going to put off the assault on Fort Egetau any longer. If Caiellis was going to try and complain about his troops being too tired then Marik would have none of it, firstly because the soldiers of Lucael were specifically trained for this type of warfare and secondly due to the fact that he had already let them rest two hours longer than they should have.

Cai glanced over at Guardian Weiss and General Rateis, to see if he would get any help from that quarter, but when the two averted their gazes under the pretence of showing respect he knew that he would be on his own arguing this. The Scientia Mos commanders seemed to have been intimidated by their supreme king, probably ashamed of the fact that they perceived themselves to have failed him and already wondering what they could do to try and earn his favour again; however Cai had realised that what his dad had said to them was mostly false, and that the main focus of the man's tempestuous anger was directed at his younger son.

"No, they will not. The captains of the other divisions will have already informed them of the change of plans, and they will be awaiting the order to attack when you arrive to give them it," Marik stated coolly, hoping that that would diffuse Caiellis's defiance, as now that the fact that the army was aware of the stratagem there would be no changing it, but the boy, like both of his sons, had inherited his stubborn streak – it would serve to make him a fine general in the future, and give him a strong personality, but right now the belligerence was seriously grating on his nerves and making him want to give into the temptation to physically discipline his obstinate child.

However, if he did that, then as well as Emili smiting him down from her place in heaven then Alexander wouldn't forgive him – he had only absolved him of it the time he had crushed Caiellis's thin arm because the king had been full of guilt and remorse, and hadn't meant to hurt the lad, but inflicting pain with the desire to do so would not be excused by his protective eldest. He still remembered the time only ten days that felt like they had taken years off his life ago, when Alexander had fought him because of his admittedly wrong indifference to Caiellis's self-harming. He was trying, angels damn it, but the war had to take precedence now over his son's personal opinions.

"Would it not be beneficial just to wait?" Cai protested, his words very quick as if instinctively coming to the conclusion that he needed to get his point out before Marik silenced and interrupted him. All the king wanted to do was loudly shout at Caiellis to be quiet, but instead of shutting him up with the seriousness and intent behind the act like what would happen to any normal and obedient child, it would just encourage the child to raise his voice in turn and yell back, making them devolve into an argument that he didn't want any of the generals of his kingdom to see. Instead, he kept his voice loud, but perfectly even, coldly overruling his son's protestations, thinking about how he could punish Caiellis for this impertinence during or after the war, "No. You have delayed enough for one day, Caiellis. Did you think that I would simply fail to notice your utter disregard of the strategy I told you to enact in the attack on Jeksaan, and instead employed on of your own? Your decision to rest instead of move and your ridiculous tactics have wasted enough of my time already. It is our duty to save as many good lives as possible, so spending any more precious time dawdling is just giving the Welkalite Orders of Passion more opportunities to reinforce their capital, as well as commit more acts in the name of the demons."

"My "ridiculous tactics" won the battle far more efficiently than the reckless assaults your and Guardian Lelia's forces did on your assigned cities," Caiellis replied, every syllable enunciated with bitterness a boy his age shouldn't be privy to and every word dripping with scorn, "Don't try to deny it, dad. I listened to the official casualty reports. Your force suffered the same percentage of death that I did, which in itself doesn't sound bad, apart from the fact that your army is five times bigger. Doesn't the fact that you took fives times as many casualties as me with the same level of opposition concern you, even the slightest bit?"

"Casualties are a part of war," Marik responded coolly, honestly surprising Caiellis, but then he should have realised by now that him and his father did not see eye to eye on some things (and by that I mean literally everything) and shouldn't be expecting any logical responses. His mother must have been the one that he got that from, as he saw little evidence for it in his quite frankly hopeless father.

"I thought it was our duty to save as many lives as possible?" the youngest Lucerna challenged, turning to meet his father's gaze and hoping that the adamant steel of his thoughts was reflected by his green eyes. He was no longer truly sad at the way that dad had failed on his promise to change his ways, as truthfully he wanted this constant arguing to stop, but right now he wasn't debating as Prince Caiellis, he was talking as a leader of an army that wanted their voice heard. He was not speaking from personal ideas (although they supported his claims), he was just advocating different courses of action so that maybe his dad would consider them.

Marik thought it was amazing how big and strong his physically frail youngest looked now that he was in the midst of an argument, his face contorted in furious defiance and his eyes full of a steely resolve that Marik dearly wished wasn't directed against him. Nevertheless, no matter how confident his youngest son was, he was still the parent in the relationship, and that meant he had the right to overrule his concerns and points. This argument would end. Now.

"Do not turn my own words against me," the monarch of the Kingdom of Light growled threateningly, cold fury seeping out of his words, and Cai paused, blinking in surprise and automatically pressing himself further back in the chair and away from his dad, though that wouldn't protect him if the man decided that he wanted to hurt his smallest son. The boy resolved then to just accept that, at this current moment, he had been defeated – no, it's not about winning or losing in a clash with dad. It's about not letting lives get pointlessly thrown away in the pursuit of unnecessary speed and purposeless honour. I will continue to argue, but not right now. I think if I push dad any more then he is going to hit me, with full force, and ideally I would like to avoid that. For both our sakes, and so Alexander doesn't worry himself to death or become consumed with guilt by it.

"Are there any more complications I should hear of before we begin the march?" the king demanded, swivelling his furious gaze over the other generals – some of them had seen him more this angry before, but then it had been fuelled by hatred, and never prior to this directed at someone in the same location as him – who averted their eyes from the wrath in the monarch's piercing blue orbs that cut through them.

He rested his stare on each of them for a few seconds each, watching them visibly tense, appearing to Caiellis like he was just baiting them to say something so that he could vent his anger upon them. As anticipated, none said anything, so finally Marik turned to fire a judgemental glare at his dissident son. Cai knew then that in that second if he had glowered back, eyes still full of fiery defiance, then he would find a pair of large and gauntleted hands wrapped around his throat and squeezing with crushing force, or a metal palm slamming into his cheek and knocking him off the chair and onto the floor.

He followed the example that the other members of the war council had set, turning his head away from his father's blue orbs, but instead of respectfully lowering his vision to the floor he examined the map in front of him one last time, ensuring that his expressive eyes were filled with analytical interest as he gazed at the visual representation of the plan they were about to enact, in spite of the fact that he understood each facet of it perfectly. The boy shrunk back into his seat as he somehow sensed the intensity of the gaze increasing, wishing that he could hide behind Uncle Tristram but knowing that would look pathetic and that the excruciating scrutiny was pinning him in place.

Caiellis stopped himself from breathing a sigh of relief when he physically felt dad looking away from him, relaxing muscles that he hadn't realised he had begun tensing and restoring the original rhythm of breaths that he didn't know had started increasing in frequency but decreasing in length. Despite the fact that no one in the pavilion was releasing mana, including his dad, he had still been able to feel how tense the interior of the strategium had become, the atmosphere reacting to the argument within it.

"Lets us go then, for the glory of Lucael and the salvation of the innocents of Welkas!" Marik bellowed inspiringly, his voice now infused with a slight bit of mana that Caiellis sensed was automatic and made the proclamation all the more exalted and motivational even to him, stirring even his saddened heart despite the identity of the one saying the words.

"Ave lux!" the generals, and the praetorians outside who heard the cry, cried exultantly, leaving Cai to wonder if his father was going to address the entire force at his disposal or relegate that duty to his subordinates. The youngest potential heir to the throne didn't think that he could make his speech quite as inspiring as his first, as his mood had soured dramatically. Also, he knew that he would be speaking to people that he would be sending to their deaths, deaths that could easily be prevented if they simply took a more patient course of action. He really hoped that he didn't have to.

Caught up in his musing, Caiellis realised that the gazes of several pairs of eyes were resting on him, some inscrutable, some judging, some pitying and some comforting and reassuring, just as a second cry resounded throughout the room. He assumed that some were looking at him because he hadn't joined in with the triumphant and righteous shouting yet, and as a Lucerna prince he should be one of the most inspired and fervent about the coming battle, but Cai didn't have the heart to loudly proclaim "For the light!" due to the hypocrisy of his father and the fact that he felt drained, not just from the physical and magical exhaustion from the battle earlier today but a kind of emotional drain from his and his father's argument.

"Ave lux," he muttered, under his breath, hoping that would suffice and the quietness of the declaration would be interpreted as a kind of solemn and sober resigning to more violence and death in the name of peace, instead of an utter and complete lack of enthusiasm and conviction.

Marik couldn't keep a scowl from crossing his face. Caiellis could at least try to look like he wasn't being dragged almost literally kicking and screaming into this course of action. He just hoped that his son's despondency didn't pass onto any of the generals, who would need to be suitably driven to fight and lead to the best of their ability – but Marik wasn't particularly concerned about the fact that his son clearly felt disheartened, because he could tell just from looking at him and analysing his fighting patterns that he would do battle to the best of his ability irrespective of his emotional state.

If Caiellis thought he was going to tolerate this any longer then he would be dearly mistaken. His son had professed that he had wanted to start again, and while hanging up on his father whilst Marik was trying to congratulate and show his love to him wasn't the best way of going about it, the king had been willing to overlook that slight misdemeanour in favour of giving the boy a chance to make it up to him or apologise when they met again.

However, he had expected Caiellis to change, to at least put some effort into improving their relationship instead of just magically wishing for it to change, or perhaps hoping that Marik would fix it all by himself with no help at all from his youngest. He had needed to be harsh on the boy, otherwise he would have just started to pick and choose orders that he wanted to obey and ignore those he didn't; Caiellis had needed to learn that that state of mind was wrong and would not be permitted. Nonetheless, after a stern telling off he was going to hug his son and tell him that he was proud of the boy despite his mistakes as Caiellis had acted upon what he believed was right, even going so far as to defy his king for it, which deserved praise just as much as the actions deserved censure.

Of course that plan had quickly been abandoned as Marik realised that Caiellis hadn't changed at all and was precisely as defiant as he had been before. It didn't help that the anger he seemingly only ever felt when that boy argued with him was threatening to dangerously erupt out of him, and Marik had been forced to divert brain power to controlling that as well as arguing and refusing to give into his determined and persistent son, qualities that he would have commended had they not been turned towards him.

"Now go and spread the word, acquit your soldiers with the plan. I will be giving a speech to the whole army in around five minutes, so I want them assembled on the plains outside of the camp for that," the king ordered, answered with a chorus of: "Yes, sir"s.

As he was about to exit the tent, only Guardian Weiss and his son still in the pavilion, the Light-bearers of Capitalia Lux just in the process of leaving, he heard an extremely nervous and anxious, "Dad?"

"Yes, Caiellis?" the man spun around and asked, staring down at his son, who seemed extremely exhausted by their argument. The boy looked just as fragile and small as he had always done, as if the defiance that had made him appear ten times bigger had now all been released, leaving him deflated and dejected, like it was the hardest thing in the entire world for him to just accept that his father's word, at this point in his young life, was law. He seemed incredibly frail, like a gust of wind would knock him over and send him flying, and for all the boy seemed to despise his Lucerna heritage it was the only reason he had survived his premature birth, as if Caiellis did not have the fortitude derived from the blood of the kings in his veins then his brittle body would have lost its tenuous hold on life as Emili painfully gave birth to him.

Marik swiftly crushed the anger that rose up the second the boy addressed him, knowing that just from looking into Caiellis's welling eyes that the kid no longer wanted to fight. Tybalt and Tristram shared a glance, and lingered in the doorway so that they could listen to the exchange.

"I … I just thought I'd tell you … That I don't have nearly enough mana to Summon … I used most of it in the Merciless Eviction earlier today, the spell that won the battle of Jeksaan," Cai admitted, wanting to once again hide from his father's piercing and judgemental gaze, which for a moment seemed to say: Wow, you really are fucking pathetic. But what did I really expect from my failure of second son. Then the moment ended, and Marik's eyes softened, though not to the extent that they could appear anything less than cold and dispassionate, and he said, "Tag along with me then, and fight by my side instead. I'm sure Guardian Weiss is capable of leading the Scientia Mos legions by himself if you don't feel up to it."

He mentally winced as he inadvertently made the words sound like an accusation, as he would also be exhausted had he emitted as much mana as Caiellis (he had felt it during his own battle) had, despite his significantly greater familiarity with Summoning and the fact that he would do a greater job of hiding it. Marik turned to look at Guardian Weiss, who nodded and replied with an: "Of course, my lord."

Tristram turned aside to Hierarch Tybalt as they stepped out of the tent, the subject of what had just happened on both of their minds, "That family reunion certainly could have gone better," the Guardian muttered, a hint of melancholy inflecting his voice. He was very worried of the fact that the king had a special type of anger reserved solely for his youngest son that he had never seen from Marik before, not even when Alexander had defied him in the past which Tristram thought was quite unfair on Caiellis.

Normally, while the king could be cold, stubborn and refusing to accept advice from the Capitalia Lux Light-bearers on how to deal with the delicate issue of his thirteen year old heir, insisting that because neither of them had children neither of them understood the position he was in despite caring for the Lucerna brothers for a greater length of time than the king had himself (significantly more for Cai), Marik was a good father, and nothing like his own.

It seemed like after their first dispute (that Alex had privately told Tybalt and Tristram about before they departed for the Scholaria Magnus), the man's eldest and he had got on fabulously, though their relationship started off a little awkward because of the nine year gap in seeing each other where Alexander had grown up from an excitable eight year old to a responsible (unless it came to girls) and intelligent young adult.

However, Marik already knew Alexander better because he had spent double the amount of time with the older boy (well, time in years with him around. Tybalt knew that the mathematics didn't exactly work like that, as the first four years of Alexander's life were spent without a sibling, whereas the four years Caiellis had been alive before the onset of Johnias's rebellion had been with an older brother that also needed to be looked after and attended to, which meant that in essence Marik had spent even less time with him than half of Alex's) and it seemed that Marik really didn't know what he was doing sometimes.

In a way, it was ironic, because Caiellis and Marik shared more personality traits than the man did with his eldest son (but of course the two did share quite a few, just not as many as the youngest prince and the king), but then again Marik and his own father had been more similar than Garius II and Johnias, so obviously the clashing between father and son was reminiscent of the arguing Garius and Marik underwent. Tristram had barely seen that, but Tybalt had, and knew it to be quite similar but with several noticeable differences, mostly because of the war but also because Marik as a man (as opposed to a king) was remarkably dissimilar to the boys' late grandfather, and Caiellis was distinct from the king at his age.

"Yes. Yes it could have," Tybalt answered distractedly, too engrossed in his own thoughts to pay proper attention to the conversation Tristram was trying to have with him, something that before they became unlikely friends had greatly irritated the Guardian when they had to care for the children, as instead of talking and discussing Tybalt liked to work things out in his own head and then answering with certainty, as opposed to saying something that could be incorrect.

Nonetheless, the two knew each other quite well due to the fact that they had only had each other for adult company a large portion of the time in the struggle against the darkness, and Tristram left silently, gently patting the aged Hierarch on the shoulder before departing to help organise the main force.

While the capital's Guardian, as the Champion of Capitalia, would be fighting alongside his ruler – which subsequently meant Caiellis would be safer – Tybalt was attached to another regiment to provide magical support with his White and Blue mana, and as such would be quite far away from the youngest prince. He stared up at the twinkling stars of the Welkalite night sky, before words interrupted his thoughts, reminding him of where he was, and the venerable Hierarch set off to join Guardian Tristram.

"We should go now. I don't expect you to join in with the speech," Marik stated, confidently marching out of the pavilion and ensuring that he would be filled with righteous conviction instead of frustrated anger when he was giving the speech, although he didn't intend to do anything dramatic like his boy had (that the army of Lucael was still energised and inspired by) because this was still not the greatest engagement in the war, although it was still a major one and to falter here could reduce their strength enough that they were not able to besiege the Welkalite capital.

He had talked about the defences of Usnaan with Alexander, the older boy incredibly eager to help because he felt useless stuck in his bed (though the monarch reminded himself that tomorrow he would be seeing the seventeen year old, which would hopefully provide a respite from Caiellis as just being with his older brother would calm the younger boy down – unless Marik did something to Alexander. However, he was more confident that he would not feel the urge to do violence to his eldest as he disturbingly did with Caiellis, and so the boy would have no cause to question him on his treatment of his near-perfect first-born), and they had established that although the city was surrounded by soaring stone walls befitting the capital city of the Old Empire, sections had been torn down in Redhand's Revolution and had never been rebuilt (though that might have changed in the few days since the princes had escaped their abduction), and the walls were in a state of disrepair anyway, the New Empire of Passion much more concerned with spontaneous bloodshed and aggression than their predecessor.

Enough of that. The strategies for attacking Usnaan can wait until we are actually attacking Usnaan. Meanwhile, I need to think of the plan for the coming assault on Fort Egetau. Scouts had identified that the outpost was quite heavily fortified, and occupied by an army of a medium force that was dramatically outmatched and dwarfed by his own gargantuan combination of legions. It should be easy enough to erase from the face of the continent, but Marik expected casualties in the forces that would be going in first – though they would be his elites, and so wouldn't sustain as much damage as the formations of less experienced or well armoured soldiers would.

Despite what Caiellis may think, he wasn't heartless, and wasn't going to throw the newer legionaries into the breach until the enemies were drowned under the waves of soldiers after slaughtering many. He personally intended to lead the attack with Akroma, and with Caiellis at his side (in spite of his relative low mana (Marik could have found it funny that his son's "low mana" was higher than the maximum mana pools of a lot of weaker mages, if he was so inclined)) the force of two Lucernas would be something to be reckoned with. Having never seen Caiellis fight, apart from a brief glimpse into the "team battles" at the Scholaria Magnus academy, he was looking forward to it, though didn't expect anything flashy from the boy.

Maybe fighting side by side would help heal the rift in their relationship. He doubted it, as while that sort of method would work with (and had, just in a slightly different form) Alexander, Tristram and Tybalt had both informed him on his youngest's distaste with combat, so fighting with him probably wouldn't change a thing.

"Yes sir," Caiellis replied dispassionately, having to break into a trot to keep up with his six-foot-seven father's much larger stride at a brisk pace, and the two walked for around a second or two longer before the man spun around. Marik's mind had just processed how Caiellis had referred to him, and his intense gaze scanned the boy's eyes, expression and posture for any hint of mockery but instead discovering compliance, obedience and respect, though he immediately realised that the respect was not directed at Marik the Father, but Marik the Supreme Monarch of the Kingdom of Light.

He knew that by addressing him in that way, Caiellis had resigned their relationship into nothing more than the relationship between king and prince, sovereign and subject, and not father and son. Marik would liked to have said that he was hurt by it and felt sadness at the words, that him and his son should be much, much closer than they were now, but if it was what it took to stop the boy from arguing with him then so be it. Anyway, it was showing respect, something that he barely ever received from the boy, so he wasn't going to tell him to stop. Marik knew that had she still been alive that Emili would have vehemently disagreed with that, as both of them had wanted to be extremely close to their children so that their sons could share anything with them and never feel uncomfortable (or even worse, frightened) near them.

Caiellis cocked an eyebrow, his mysterious green eyes belieing none of his inside thoughts and emotions, much like how he had looked at his father after their first fateful reunion, his emerald orbs blank and the fortifications crashing down in front of his mind, blocking out everyone else after spending too long letting them in (although Marik seriously doubted Caiellis pushing away his older brother like he had apparently done, just everybody apart from that besides maybe Tristram and Tybalt), and Marik had to stop himself from shaking his head, turning on his heels and continuing on with the walk.

He had greater problems than petulant children on this night.

.*.*.*.

Caiellis could feel the clashing Red and White mana around him, although there were flecks of each of the other colours scattered throughout the engagement. The darkness of the night sky was brightened by incandescent flashes of White mana and crackling lightning, but the thing that made Caiellis the most uncomfortable were the roiling waves of crimson flames that incinerated Welkalite and Lucaelian alike, those conjuring them killing friend and foe with their destructive and indiscriminate magic.

Stood next to his father (who hadn't yet Summoned, and had explained that he wanted to save Akroma until the fighting was thickest), with Uncle Tristram and Athela of the Aegis flying above them, the Daughter of Protection's holy shield guarding the two Lucernas, and surrounded by a total of eight elite praetorians on the courtyard inside of Fort Egetau, Cai would like to say that he felt safe, but that would be a lie. The fighting was brutal and close, exactly how he disliked it, with little room to manoeuvre and assess the tactical situation so that he could update the strategy. This type of combat was his antithesis, as it relied much more on sheer strength to determine the victor, and although his magic was powerful he didn't have enough mana to be casting extremely potent spells that would devastate the opposing army, which meant that he had to utilise more physical attacks than those that used magic, something which he despised.

It was hot, and the youngest Lucerna was sweating in the heat of the armoured bodies pressing together around him and the high temperature Red mana that saturated the night air, but he felt more sorry for those clad in full plate armour and would be sweltering inside of the metal. The Welkalites were far more suited to the hot climate than the Lucaelian soldiers, as they wore little to no armour, and when they did if was light and wouldn't offer much protection, relying upon overwhelming the enemies with speed and mass aggression instead of a protracted combat, whereas the legionaries of the Kingdom of Light much preferred to outlast their foes and emerge triumphant through faith and discipline.

However, one thing that Caiellis did notice was that his father hadn't even broke into a sweat, cold White mana flowing around the monarch's ornate silver armour and probably cooling its interior as he slammed his broadsword into the sternum of a Welkalite berserker that charged suicidally at him, not even pausing to examine his handiwork as his energised relic weapon, the ancient blade originally belonging to King Garius I before Marik inherited it when he became king (as Caiellis's grandfather had preferred to wield a heavy axe) shining with infused White mana and purging the Welkalite's soul just as the sword cleaved apart his body.

The man raised his free left palm as a bombardment of coruscating electricity fulminated towards him, a shield of pure celestial light nullifying the magical assault as it was absorbed by it, and suddenly shot forwards, his sword arcing round and leaving contrails of light in Caiellis's after-vision as his blinked and carving into the mage that had launched the lightning, the electromancer's face twisted in startled surprise as the large blade (though not as big as Akroma's huge sword) hacked through his midriff, splitting him in two as the halves were disintegrated by the purifying White mana of Wrath.

He then twisted round, raising his palm to the heavens and focussing mana around it, as a selection of magical and golden swords appeared around him, in the way that Caiellis had seen it before. Marik closed his fist as the power he was channelling reached a crescendo, pointing his greatsword at a group of Welkalite infantry as the blades angled towards them, and then shot at them, impaling the enemies in a storm of shining spears reinforced by an assortment of shards of glass wreathed in darklight that the young prince added to his father's salvo, the golden swords and glass desiccating the Welkalite targets, though Marik didn't even nod in his son's direction as he and three other praetorians made their way towards the inner fortress.

Cai utterly detested it, but he couldn't help admiring the way that Marik fought, combining elements of both his sons' fighting techniques (although the Summoner of the Angel of the Black Sun supposed that Marik had been using this way of fighting long before he and Alexander had been born, and so they had inherited and changed factors of it instead of it being a combination of theirs) in a blend of aggression and patience, sometimes baiting his opponent into making a mistake and exploiting it or brute-forcing his way into gaining an advantage. Despite seeing him use a more concentrated version of Akroma's Vengeance, Cai had never seen the man fight at full power, although he had done in the civil war and he had almost got there against Aksua.

Caiellis knew that if his dad was even a quarter as good at being a parent as he was adept at fighting, then there would be no animosity between father and son, but harshly told himself to stop thinking about that because it would simply distract him from the battle and Cai needed to be focussed, arguably more than ever because of his low mana that in hindsight he should have complained more about. Then again, if he had exempted himself from the battle just because of that he would be seen as weak, as every other member of the army had fought just as he had (though none had released just as much mana as him).

Caiellis and his dad were stood near the front of the force, with the rest of the elite troops that had charged through the breaches in the fort caused by the incandescent barrage of the siege engines as the groups of mages powering them poured mana into the engines, charging them with light and releasing that in the form of projectiles much more potent than any mundane ammunition, such as rocks or ballista bolts.

When the first section of the red wall had tumbled down, it had been the Lucerna Guard and the most elite division in Capitalia Lux, the Capital's Chosen, that had been the first to enter, as they hacked their way through hordes of swarming berserkers and insane members of the Orders of Passion clearly sent to delay them and were assaulted by a menagerie of different Red Summonings. Nevertheless, the mages of Capitalia Lux attached to the exemplary formation that utilised defensive magic, and those combat trained healers from the Ordo Medella, had prevented the casualties from amounting to too much, although Caiellis knew that many more Lucaelians would be slain when the rest of the army entered Fort Egetau.

The enemy general was obviously quite canny, reserving their more elite troops for when the legionaries had exhausted themselves after relentless attacks from screaming maniacs and their Sancturia creatures, and Caiellis could see several fortified emplacements and battlements that the army would be hard pressed to overcome. He just wished that the Lucaelian plan could have been more efficient and patient, as all of this brutal bloodshed would have been unnecessary if they had just waited for the Welkalite fortress to run out of resources and time, as it was quite clearly not equipped for dealing with an army the size of one that had been inhabiting it for more than a week at most.

Enough of that. The time for debating the strategy is over, and there is no point worrying about it now or playing the "what if" scenarios game. Instead of thinking about that, I should devote my mind power to winning now, Cai mentally informed himself, spotting a Welkalite hurtling towards him not intercepted by any of his companions and with a flaming imp shrieking and cackling maniacally as it twirled around its insane master, a skinny warrior wearing barely anything but leather covered in metal spikes that pointed outwards and inwards, some already dripping with his blood.

Cai infused his artefact armament with mana, seeing the blade grasped in his right hand lighting up with radiance and shadow, as the imp dived at him, its unassuming size suddenly augmented by an influx of Red and Black mana and becoming larger than him. He leapt away on the wings of stained glass that he conjured into being, the ground erupting in flames beneath him as the imp twisted, following him into the air to try and bring him down.

Caiellis ignored it, knowing already that he was too fast for it and would reach his target before it reached him, and powered towards the member of the Order of Rapture, arcing his twilight blade towards the man. Before he hit, the Welkalite ignited his gauntlets with fiery Red and pooling Black, swinging them at the descending prince. One of the flaming fists punched into his thin stomach, making him cough up a spray of blood, but Cai forced himself not to pay attention to the pain, slowing his descent to lessen the impact of the blow.

He swung the Sword of Glass into the other fist, the crystalline blade hacking though the man's hand and then carrying on into the rest of his body, Caiellis's relic weapon unimpeded by leather armour, flesh and bone. He increased the potency of his Black magic and used it to drain the Welkalite's life away from him, the Sword of Glass greedily drinking upon the essence of the man and converting it into healing White mana, which the prince utilised to heal the shallow wounds he had just sustained.

Caiellis flipped backwards just as a serrated blade cut apart the air he had inhabited just a moment ago, releasing tendrils of dark shadow coated in golden luminescence from his left palm that impaled the foe that had just attempted to attack him, sucking the existence from her and fully healing his abdomen.

He then blasted a shaft of pure light at a three headed elemental hound – a cerberus, he recalled from something that he had once read – that leapt at one of the praetorians that he didn't know by name, a slender and youngish woman around the age of thirty that wielded an elegant double-bladed glaive shining with White and Blue mana, flowing and molten-looking fire fountaining from one of the heads and appearing like a magical version of a normal canine's drooling.

The large elemental snarled in fury as the bolt of light impacted into it, leaving a searing and bright crater in its flaming hide and halting its charge as it turned angrily towards Caiellis, and the unknown praetorian recalled a Sancturia creature of her own towards her after she was alerted to the beast that had been about to ambush her. A shimmering spirit coated in the magics of light and wisdom and in the vague form of a woman appeared at the bodyguard's side, and Caiellis's eyes narrowed slightly as he didn't detect very much power coming from the spirit. However, there must have been some potent reason why the woman had been inducted into the Lucerna Guard, and Cai smiled as the praetorian blinked out of reality and then reappeared in a flash of Blue displacement magic behind the cerberus.

She swung her glaive into one of the heads, the first blade suffused with disrupting Blue mana that would undo any of the charms or enchantments cast upon the elemental by its master, a Welkalite mage that blasted a tongue of flame at one of the Capital's Chosen and immolated the man inside his armour, grinning insanely all the while as his hair lit up with flames in response to his mana, not caring one bit about the cerberus. The strike also disturbed the creature's connection to Sancturia, weakening it as it had to automatically divert some of its interior mana to keeping itself in the material plane instead of retreating back inside the Mind Realm.

The best turned around, its other two heads reacting to the attack on its third – one snapping round with tremendous speed and intending to devour the praetorian within its steaming and gaping maw, whilst the other blasted a gout of flame at the Lucaelian attacker. Quick as a flash, the woman exited reality again, materialising a few metres away but instantly consumed in an explosion of flames as the Welkalite mage had anticipated her re-entry location. The praetorian looked at hands in bemused surprise for a split second before processing that again the prince had saved her, as shield of scintillating glass beginning to shatter around her in the intense heat of the Red magic.

Caiellis launched a series of magical attacks on the mage, dearly wishing that he could channel more mana into the assault so that he wouldn't have to resort to dispatching the foe at close quarters, as the mage was holding a whip that was covered in flames and offered him much more range than the youngest Lucerna's Sword of Glass. The Welkalite man, who was quite a bit bigger than him but not as tall as most Lucaelians, rolled away from the spears of light and shadow, just as more of the enemy soldiers entered the combat to help counteract the Lucaelian advance as a greater quantity of allies was entering the fort through another breach.

The praetorian locked eyes with Caiellis, who's orbs were still at their normal green lustre as he didn't want to waste what precious little mana he had on the Lenses of Guilt and Innocence, and nodded her acquiescence when the boy flicked his gaze towards the recovering cerberus whilst pointing his crystal sword towards its Summoner. She hefted her glaive, directing her sky spirit towards the beast, which roared threateningly at the manifestation of Red's two most hated colours of mana.

Caiellis couldn't pay much attention to the combat, as now the pyromancer was raising his palms towards the elevated prince as a storm of flames burst forth from them, filling the air with fiery bolts that burned through the atmosphere towards the prince. Cai instinctively raised his sword and other free hand, intending to block the sea of low mana intensity projectiles on a powerful shield, before remembering that he didn't have nearly enough mana for that.

This provoked him creating a small defensive barrier of interlocking of purple stained glass and awkwardly jolting back from the scorching bolts. One hit his left shoulder and he hissed in pain as the fabric of his clothing was burnt through, exposing the pale flesh of his skin that was now coloured an angry red and throbbed with stinging agony, but was otherwise unscathed by the strafing of fire-bolts due to the mixture of his protective enchantments and juddering dodging.

He needed to regain the initiative, as without his mana he couldn't afford to fight as methodically as he was used to and much favoured over this, so deactivated his wings for now in favour of more offensive power and rushed the mage. The boy blocked with the Sword of Glass as the whip cracked towards him, aiming to wrap around the blade before he sliced through it.

Instead of falling to the floor, the part of the scourge that he hacked apart exploded into a rush of flames that scorched the air around him, but Caiellis managed to deflect it with a mass of golden coated shadow that formed up around him and extinguished the fire.

I've had enough of this damn pyromancer, Cai thought bitterly, his shoulder throbbing extremely painfully, torment that was exacerbated every time he moved it, and grabbed his sword with both hands, activating the Lens of Guilt for a split second so that he could acquire the position of the enemy mage and prepare for another attack.

Just as he was about to do, the man's power levels dropped drastically, and he sensed that the praetorian that had been attached to his father had finished slaying the cerberus, judging by the large release of peaceful but controlling White and Blue mana smothering the impulsive and destructive Red coming from her direction.

If Cai had been bothered about concepts such as honour and testing oneself against foes, or things like battlefield grudges, he would have been annoyed at the challenge of the formidable pyromancer being ripped away from him, as now that his cerberus had gone the man had fallen to his knees, but Caiellis couldn't care less and only fought so that peace could be achieved, not to fight against enemies, although obviously that was a product of that. He almost contemptuously flicked out his hand, a beam of light illuminating the man in its deathly purple glow and dissolving his being away, the particles of his essence becoming pleasant, glittering golden speckles that floated lazily towards Cai, soothing his wounded shoulder with healing magic and repairing the damaged skin, returning it to its normal pale tone.

"Mirria Chrysos, at your service," the woman, who was clad in the traditional golden plate of the Lucerna Guard but with a light blue cloth simply emblazoned with the symbol of the Guard instead of that combined with any personal heraldry, fitting as the Chrysos family had become traitors and willingly aligned themselves with Johnias during the civil war, bowed quickly and then returned to a ready position. Caiellis looked at her for a second, and stared back before averting her gaze, and wondered if she felt like she had to prove herself because of the fact that her family had betrayed, although she would probably have been part of the Lucerna Guard before the civil war.

Cai took a short moment to examine the battlefield around him, as now almost the entirety of the huge Lucaelian force had entered through numerous breaches in the almost destroyed wall of Fort Egetau. In the roiling battle on the gigantic courtyard of the fortress, which had been built specifically to defend in the Welkalite style of open steppes to charge around their foes, pretty much all semblance of formation had dissolved and now the quite cramped space was full of warriors that had never met each other fighting side by side, although there was a bond between the Lucaelian soldiers that was formed from the shared sense of community and having a family to protect and a kingdom to serve that the Welkalite warriors lacked.

Now that the more elite enemy forces had been deployed, Caiellis could sense a much greater intensity in the Black mana representing selfishness and the pursuit of one's own desires through his sixth sense, as those that were entering the battle would be much more associated with the Orders of Passion than those the Lucaelians had fought up to this point – but when they got to Usnaan, the prince knew from past experience that they would have to fight against even greater debaucheries and acts of an extremely disturbing nature that fuelled corrupt magic.

He could see a troupe of scantily clad Welkalite dancers that had obviously come from nearby Usnaan to be part of the defence giggling manically as their outlandish and garish outfits that left little to the imagination (if Caiellis hadn't been in the middle of a battle then he would have blushed because up to this point in life had never seen female sexual organs (besides the interior of his mother's, which didn't really count) before) shone with Red mana. They somersaulted with incredible agility through the air, spinning a variety of savage (but undoubtedly entertaining for crowds of baying Welkalites) weaponry, including chains covered in spikes that could impale the dancers if they made a wrong move, and huge shurikens in a similar style to those used by the Yentarians of the League of Isak but significantly less subtle.

The leaders of the troupe, those wearing the most clothes and masks showing massively distorted faces in obtrusive and extravagant colours, emitted large amounts of Red mana as their weapons burst into light, pink electricity crackling along them and giving them a killing edge. With a shrieking cry, the first of the dancers leapt through the air and swung her weapon at a nearby Lucaelian soldier, the lighting-infused edge hacking straight through the woman and leaving her to choke on her own blood as an (admittedly artistically pleasing for those that were inclined to think that way) arterial spray of crimson liquid jetted out from the wound in her throat.

Caiellis found his thoughts turning to disgust, but before he could attack them five angels descended from the sky, four he knew already – Iridis, Seraph of the Sword, Ethé of the Firemane, Yuria, Daughter of the Heavens and Luncindia the Baneslayer – and one new one also, although he still recognised her from his reading material, and knew of her Summoner, Tresha Ustria of the praetorians.

This angel was a Daughter of Vengeance (and would have been a Daughter of Serenity had the angel still been alive), sworn to silence like her sister (that had been Summoned by Lelia in a different section of the fortress, as the Guardian led one of the other attacks) until Johnias died, and was called Hispacia, the Avenger.

She wore a more ragged outfit than other angels, which suggested that she had been crusading for a long time in the territory of the darkness in Sancturia, and held a battered and worn sabre that looked like it had been through many battles. Her wings were brown, and she had hair of a slightly darker colour tied up in a ponytail, and despite her looking less impressive than her impeccable cousins (if that was what Second Sisterhood angels called other angels that were daughters of a different First Sisterhood angel) Caiellis could still see several iridescent spheres surrounding her, suggesting several powerful enchantments were augmenting Hispacia.

The angels slammed into the dancers, scattering them with blasts of White mana and saving the platoon of soldiers that were being decimated by them, but Cai's eyes opened wide in horror when two dancers leapt up into the air, holding an extremely thin wire at each end, and jumped past Yuria. The wire burst into fizzing life the second it hit the angel, hacking her apart in shrieking frenzy before she was forced to return to the Mind Realm, though apart from a yelp of pain Yuria made no sound, knowing that if she screamed in agony it would demoralise the soldiers around her.

The ground of the courtyard was literally littered with corpses now, both Lucaelian and Welkalite and seemingly an equal number of each, as the dancers recommenced their attack on the remaining angels, this time joined by a group of hissing elementals clothed in something resembling armour and taking the form of humanoids, albeit humanoids made up of roaring flames.

Caiellis felt a huge rise in White mana from his left, and a feeling of awe that he had never quite been able to get over rising up in his chest as he looked to the side to his his father holding his hands around a sphere of pure and shining White as it expanded around him. He wished that he could Summon Orzhova as well, but for now Akroma alone would have to suffice (probably to the liking of the Angel of Wrath). The light began to shine to such an intensity that all across the battlefield friend and foe alike were forced to look away, and it began to be absorbed into a large angelic figure.

Akroma appeared in the material plane, holding her gargantuan sword, the Blade of Wrath, aloft, and the king's voice was suffused with an otherworldly resonance when he shouted, "To me, soldiers of Lucael! Drive the Welkalites back!"

Alongside every single Lucaelian soldier on the battlefield, Caiellis felt a sensation of astonishment and pride in the Lucerna family, despite being a part of it, but Caiellis had little chance to ruminate on those feelings as he and Mirria were surrounded by a group of Enforcers from the Order of Violence, elite soldiers wielding polearms that shone with a molten glow and were backed up by elementals that dragged themselves from underneath the earth, forming out of lava and pouring out of cracks in the ground.

A burst of White mana registered itself in Caiellis's mind before it erupted into reality, everything exploding into pure white light around the prince and praetorian, and Cai stifled a gasp as Akroma landed amongst the soldiers, followed by her smaller but no less impressive Summoner. The angel swung her huge blade in a wide arc, a shockwave of luminescence shooting forth from it and annihilating the Enforcers in a massive detonation of radiance, sending those not hit directly by the light tumbling as Marik collected his own magic into the rough shape of an orb.

Cai's dad tossed it into the air, and it split apart into separate beams of light that each found an individual mark, cutting through the Welkalites and leaving smoking holes in the places where their hearts should have been. Akroma then immediately left, launching herself into the air and crashing down where she was next needed most, brutally eviscerating Welkalites left and right in every stroke of her gigantic blade, her face remaining blank and neutral as it became covered in gore. Alternating projectiles of fire, lighting and magma crashed into the angel, but she remained unfazed because of the resistance she had built up to Black and Red mana after centuries of endlessly crusading against them which meant that she was all but immune to all but the most potent spells, those of an apocalypse level – even then she might still survive wounded.

Marik remained, however, and swiftly turned to his son after thrusting his ancient greatsword through the helmet of a Welkalite Enforcer and killing the man instantly, spraying blood, bone fragments and the remnants of the helmet everywhere around it. His blade was slick with blood as the king looked at Caiellis, the potency of his piercing blue eyes enhanced by the amount of magic he was releasing.

"Caiellis. I need you to go to the eastern part of the fortress and help with the fighting there," the man commanded, pointing with his sword to a part of Fort Egetau where the Lucaelians had gained very little ground at all, the soldiers almost being pushed back outside the fortress. The boy instantly assessed the tactical situation there, concluding that they would be better off pulling back and then re-entering through an already established route through the walls instead of vainly fighting against the tide of Welkalites and their Summonings.

He said as much to his father, constantly endeavouring to keep his voice emotionless and detatched instead of full of frustration and fear from their earlier altercation, and the man glared at him with undisguised resentment.

"No. We will not be seen fleeing on this day. Go now to the eastern wing and push back into the fortress. I will join Guardian Oleic and attack the inner citadel, and finish this battle," Marik stated as Mirria left, the praetorian going to find some more enemies to kill and allies to help.

"It's not fleeing, dad. It is a tactical withdrawal so that we can preserve lives and the divisions still have an impact in the battle instead of just fighting until all the enemies have died and sustaining too many casualties in the process!" Caiellis half-argued, half-pleaded, but already knew that the words would have no effect on his stubborn father, especially not with that quality accentuated by the Summoning ritual and making him completely adamant.

Marik snorted, turning away from his son, "Ridiculous. All I am asking of you is to lead the soldiers there to victory so that they can play a part in the current battle. Now go."

Cai grabbed on to his burly arm, his fingers holding onto the armour before his dad could just stride away, and although if he really wanted to the man could have easily broken free, "It is not ridiculous! It will save lives, and they will have just as much impact in this battle, and many others! Why won't you just listen to me?!" The boy didn't want to admit it, especially not to his judging father, but he didn't think he had enough mana to be at the forefront of the troops he was going to aid – but he had enough for the strategy he was putting forward. Even without that, he would be advocating that course of action, as it was clearly the most logical, but dad was having none of it.

"It was not a suggestion," Marik replied evenly, determined not to give into the increasingly enticing temptation to backhand his son and send him flying as he knew that a) he didn't want to hurt the boy and b) knew that such an action would prevent Caiellis from fighting to his maximum ability, instead effortlessly shaking off his son's desperate grasp. Cai realised then that that was the end of the conversation, and nothing that he said or did would change that. He almost felt like stamping his foot on the ground impotently, which he had not done for many years, but knew acting like a child and having a tantrum would make his father even less inclined to listen to him.

"Yes, sir," he responded respectfully, reactivating the Gift of Orzhova and keeping a figurative eye on the pitiful amount of mana that he had left, and flying off in the direction of force. Would a "Good luck," or a "I believe in you, my son," or even an "Ave Lux," been that hard for him? Cai thought resentfully, before purging the thoughts from his mind in preparation for the coming fight.

The soldiers had only just gained a foothold in the fortress, and were being driven back through the wall by a pair of hulking and excessively muscled Sancturia giants wrapped in chains and with their fists replaced by spiked metal gauntlets that looked like elongated mace heads. Their faces were covered in black gladiators' masks, and Caiellis visualised what the giants would look like without their modifications by their Summoners, a pair of twins from the Order of Violence that led another charge with a large horde of shrieking gladiators.

The Lucaelians were hard pressed to defend, commanded by a captain that Caiellis didn't know or recognise battling desperately at the side of a loxodon formed from White and Green mana and holding a large emerald hammer that smashed apart some of the Welkalites, trumpeting proudly through its trunk as it did so, though Cai deduced that it was doing that more for the benefit of its allies rather than any pride it felt in the desperate engagement. Apart from that, and a few twinkling Lucaelian Wisps and Goldenglow moths, they were the only Sancturia creatures in the division, and the littlest Lucerna instantly knew that there was little chance of them prevailing over the Welkalite force.

However, there was one way the situation could be saved, a way which put Caiellis in a dilemma as he descended close to them: an organised retreat from the Welkalites outside of the fortress could be beneficial, as then they would have to choose beneath chasing them out or defending the rest of Fort Egetau – actually, Cai was pretty sure that he could provide a beacon with his Lucerna influence and mana for the artillery officers to strike that area, collapsing the walls behind them. That meant disobeying his father, which was something Caiellis did not want to do as he didn't know how the man would react – though it would definitely by in a negative manner.

Wait, what am I thinking? I'm actually seriously choosing between saving lives and the clearly correct course of action and not being an obedient little prince and following daddy's commands to the letter? I will happily displease him if it means that more can live, so sorry, dad, but my plan is the one that will be enacted.

Caiellis infused his sword with almost all of his mana that was left, glad that the relatively low amount of it (or the fact that they were utterly engrossed in the violence) meant that the Welkalites hadn't yet detected him, as tenebrosity mixed with incandescence was channelled through his sword. Cai descended at a rapid rate in front of one of the mages controlling one of the giants, slicing his sword straight through the man as it drained the life from him and then leaping into the air as the giant dissipated with a furious roar.

He landed next to the other man, who spun around in shock as Caiellis blasted Black mana at him, the magic of darkness fuelled by his individual goals and independence and slicing into the mage. It was a technique that he had seen Orzhova use and as such had replicated it himself, conjuring up voidal steel that cut through the physical substance of the Welkalite. Before the others could retaliate, Caiellis was already gone, landing amidst the troops as they cried out in joy at a Lucerna appearing, the boy trying to hide the fact that he was panting and his limbs were on fire from the mana that he was drawing, resorting to siphoning off some of his own life (that could be regained at a later date) just so that he could have enough mana to stay awake and fight.

"Retreat through the walls! Now!" Caiellis shouted at the confused faces of the men, hoping that his voice brooked no dissent as the Welkalites began to close in on them again after the disruption caused by the murder of the mages.

"What is your command, my lord?" one of them asked, infuriating the boy even further.

"There's no time to explain! Just do it! I'll hold them off!" he yelled frantically, and the captain began shouting at his men to begin moving, the soldiers' eyes filled with equal amounts respect and terror at their young prince as the shadows coalesced around him.

Cai bit his lip as agony coursed through his fragile body as he was forced to go through it to have enough mana to activate his Lucerna beacon, which meant that the artillery commanders would definitely begin to fire on this area and soon make the wall collapse (hopefully killing as many Welkalites as possible). Caiellis was getting desperate now, turning to the onrushing enemies as more substantial darkness played around his thin form, as while the pacts provided him with more mana it was exclusively Black, and the last vestiges of his White had run out.

Then, he looked up in bewilderment, and panic mixed with adrenaline shuddered throughout his body. The flying thing was descending on his area, and it took him a second to recognise what it was: an airship, of a similar design to the one that had taken him and Alexander to Usnaan, but what was even more frightening was the fact that it had already dropped several spheres containing huge quantities of Red mana around him. Caiellis raised his hands as a shield of shadows formed to protect him, and one part of his mind coldly informed him what he feared: that it would not be enough.

Then, Cai's world exploded into flames.

---

New Summonings in this chapter:

Welkalites: Blistering Dieflyn, Wildfire Cerberus, Flaring Flamekin, Lavacore Elemental, Bloodfray Giant

Mirria Chrysos: Sky Spirit

Tresha Ustria: Serra Avenger

Captain: Loxodon Smiter