The stone wall was rough and cool beneath Nolan's fingers. His footfalls were nearly soundless as he walked down the quiet corridor. The wall was covered in shade but the sun shone all along the floor as it came through from the open arches on the other side. A large threshold met him at the end of the hall, the red stone creating the border of a large doorway. The heavy wooden doors were open, showing a room with deep blue floors and golden inscriptions. Light flooded in from the opening in the high ceiling that extended a couple levels above where he stood. Bypassing the ornate, yet not overstated staircase, Nolan let his wings extend from his body, feeling them slip through the discreet slits in the back of his shirt. He took flight, soaring past the first level and landing on the second. He navigated through the beautiful maze of halls, knowing each corner by heart. He changed nothing, using the original blueprints, which had survived in the Royal vault, and his own memory.

This was his home.

Nolan's mind envisioned two dark-haired children, a little boy and a little girl, running around the corner. Envisioned them staring out the open archways he walked passed as the breeze rustled the billowing curtains, looking out at their home from the great height and memories surfaced as he passed a variety of rooms. Since the first time he had walked among the ruins, an old, pained sadness lingered under the surface of his emotions. At times it would keep him up nights, staring listlessly at the ceiling as the memories he kept locked away deep in his mind whispered insistently. Old monsters still haunted him even after he'd come this far and he sometimes wondered to himself if they would ever fade away into something that wasn't so gut-wrenching and vile. Nolan ended up in a whole new area of the Arceon, the walls were a warm red-brown color. For a moment he stopped, hovering outside a set of white wooden doors bordered in a golden design with ancient runes painstakingly carved into it, coated in brown paint. He smiled a bit. This had been Anala's chambers, and their nursery once upon a time. While he received a suite of his own as Ahrahn once he was old enough, this room was his bedroom more often than not; a sort of haven away from the weight of the responsibility that had been placed on his young shoulders. Nolan moved on, walking until he passed through a low passage way and into a small room.

Anala sat on the floor, still and quiet. Her back was to him, body facing the wall. To the left was a bordered portico that gave to open air with a small cushioned bench before it. A strange mixture of nostalgia, happiness and devastation swelled within Nolan's ribcage, making his eyes burn. The wall, unlike the rest of the room (the rest of the entire floor really), rang with a somber tone and precious beauty. The entirety of the wall had been formed into a beautiful mural. Created by their late great-grandmother in celebration of their birth, she had produced it, each detail hand-painted and lovingly meticulous. The array of vibrant colors formed a dragon, soaring through clouds over a lush forest, a kingdom set within and with a strong river flowing though it like pulsing veins. Its scales were a deep maroon color. The light from the sun and moon seemed to transform it daily, making the images look eerie and lifelike and striking, almost seeming shift and coil on the wall. Anala loved this painting, and often sat here just staring at it in wonder. While beautiful, Nolan could never understand her innate fascination with it and whenever he would ask, Anala could never answer.

Nolan frowned slightly as he looked at the wall.

However, that had been a long time ago and like much of their lives, had not been untouched by the war. The once flawless masterpiece was cracked, chipped and faded. A large portion of the bottom right corner was gone, entire chunks of stone missing, and cracks ran through the painting, splitting images and making the wall seem as if it were going to crumble. He had debated for a long time on this wall. Destroying it felt wrong, yet he could not bring himself to repair it. The original painter had been killed long ago, and repainting it would never feel meaningful. In the end he preserved it with many other things in the Arceon. Not only did he want to keep as much of it as possible, but it also served a reminder to the things lost, the darkness he and his people finally overcame.

But to his sister, it was simply another thing she held dear to her heart ruined and defiled. Nolan moved to sit next to her, looking at the wall. His chest felt tight and constricted as an old, familiar ache overtook it. After a few long minutes Anala looked at him, tears in her eyes.

Here was sister. His twin. By literal demarcation she was the other half of him. Nolan had always, always, known her. Before birth, before the concept of memory and general awareness, Nolan had been paired to Anala. He came into being with someone, as a twin he was never alone, and losing Anala had ripped him apart. Looking back from this point, they had been dealt a cruel and distorted fate. Born into a power that would eventually be their downfall, everything had been ripped away; a family they never knew, their home, the very lives they led stolen and replaced by blood and desolation. But despite the misery and painful ache of his existence Nolan was grateful he still had his sister through everything. All his life he watched her suffering and vowed he would end it. So he fought as hard as he could and after several cruel twists of fate, they ended up back here in the land of their birth. Knowing what he knew now however, it was bittersweet to have lived and survived together through such a life after the first was taken from them. The tears in his sister's eyes was a reminder to him. For all his accomplishments, the scars on their souls were deep and there was no changing that.

But there was finally hope now, and he'd come too far to lose it.

Anala blinked, sending a few tears down her cheeks. There was a sadness in her eyes but her smile was genuine.

"I had a feeling you'd be up here."

She laughed shakily, swallowing thickly as she stood and he followed. "I didn't think I would ever be here again."

"I did." He never thought the day wouldn't come. Even after she died and left this world Nolan was never convinced she was gone. He vowed to bring her back home and he'd done it.

Anala's green eyes lifted to look at him and after a moment she tilted her head a bit. "That doesn't surprise me." Her expression shifted. She raised her hands to touch his face and the smile returned. "I'm so incredibly proud of you Nolan. You did all of this, everything you said you would. I never doubted you, you know. Not once." Anala's eyes looked far away. "But . . ."

Nolan stared at her, letting the silent question hang.

"But . . . it makes me sad."

He frowned. "Why?"

"This wasn't your burden to bear. None of it. You went through so much. You've always been so strong and I know that must've been incredibly hard for you. I thought coming here would be different than this. I'm happy we get to come home again together, that I get to breathe the warm air and feel the forest floor under my feet, but I have these memories and we aren't those people anymore, are we Nolan? They died in that valley a long time ago." Anala's eyes scanned his face. "You didn't deserve that."

Nolan said nothing simply because he couldn't figure out what to say. He had always wanted to go far away with his sister. Somewhere away from the painful existence that could not be called a life and find peace, finally. He made a vow to himself as soon as the reality of who they were processed in his head: he would bring his sister home. He would end their pain. Nolan had done it, this was a happy day and he wanted to deny that Anala should feel this way but the very real pain of their past lingered. She was right. They weren't the same people they used to be. That was a different life. They couldn't possibly be the same, not after everything they'd survived. They were alive but still haunted and there was no erasing the pain of it. The validity of that was tragic and harsh and caused tears to blur his sister's face yet still, it something to be proud to have lived through.

Nolan took his sister's hands and smiled.

"No, we aren't. But I think we're stronger for it. The one thing we've always had was each other and I got you back Anala. We can start over now. Our lives weren't ideal, but we got a family, people we love, Mates. I know we can't erase the past, and I can't say those wounds will ever heal completely. But we can look back and know we overcame all of it. We couldn't control that. Not any of it."

A strange silence hovered between them. It wasn't quite sad but also not entirely happy either. At the core of everything they had lived through together and experienced, both the good and the bad, Nolan and Anala were still those children clinging to each other as the only thing they had in the world. Nolan hugged her close and let out a slow breath. Anala was warm and her embrace was familiar, as comforting as it had been throughout the entirety of his existence. He pulled back and Anala leaned in to kiss his cheek. Nolan touched her hair and smiled.

"We're finally home. Why don't we go enjoy it?"

Anala's memorable green eyes brightened as the sadness faded and she nodded. They exited the room, leaving the old mural and the still-lifelike dragon to be warmed by the sun.

The sun had set and Carlisle was currently trying to figure out how the torches that lined the interconnecting outdoor passageways lit automatically. They weren't gas lamps and didn't seem to be attached to a timer, let alone each other. The flames danced cheerily in the golden disc. Carlisle raised his hand, letting it hover close enough to the flame that the warmth of it seeped into his skin. This place was truly quite captivating. Aside from the magnificent beauty he found around every turn, there was a strange, otherworldly sensation in the air. He felt like he would spend a lifetime exploring it and still not know everything the Arceon hid. However it was eerie in a way. For the most part, the entire place was empty. The only person he had seen was Atiai. Carlisle knew there were others, not many, but a handful of people were here. Carlisle had picked up on a few heartbeats from different corners of the Arceon but for the most part it was quiet. A heartbeat was suddenly nearing, coming closer from somewhere above him. His eyes scanned the stone ceiling of the passage as he followed the sound. There was the flutter of wings and light footsteps on the stone. Carlisle moved out of the fire lit passageway and out into the moonlight. He turned to look on the foliage-covered roof where sharp amber eyes stared back at him.

"Elias."

The young man smiled, his tan flesh looked alabaster in the pale light of the moon and his glossy auburn hair shone. The large deep red-brown wings that extended from his back fluttered as he squatted. The Vayar jumped, landing lightly on the grass. He straightened and scanned the vampire over. "A whole new land to explore and you're looking at lamps with such a great fascination."

Carlisle looked back to the golden discs. "How do they work? The fire, I mean. What lights them? I'm guessing there is oil being burned but I can't figure out how they ignite."

Elias was giving him an amused look. He glided forward languidly, stepping into the passage. He moved to stand under the golden disc Carlisle had just been observing as his wings retracted. the fire cast shadows over him and illuminated him in soft, translucent light where the dark stopped. "Try and think outside the box Carlisle. It's nothing but oil and fire. There is no complicated truth to the lamps themselves. They are what you see."

"Then how do they come on?"

Elias touched a small symbol carved on the underside of the disk. Carlisle could not understand it, seeing as it was written in a language he'd never had the privilege to study. "It's the old tongue of the Mages. The enchantment makes the torches light at night and they go out with the rising sun. Neat little trick, isn't it?"

"So . . . it's magic?"

"Mmm, Magic is too general of a term but yes, it's a variation."

"Magic," Carlisle murmured. Of course, he should have expected it. He was thinking too modern, too technological and rational. This world was governed by other forces.

"Nolan sent Ro and me out to get you and the others if you felt like returning, unless you'd like to keep going around observing lamps that is. There are some nice candles if you'd like to do that instead."

Carlisle chuckled and gestured. "Lead the way."

Unlike him, Elias didn't question where he was going. His turns were sure and confident and in a few minutes they were entering through the same large archway they had entered earlier and into the heart of the Arceon. They encountered Rowan in a corridor with Alice on his arm, her bubbly conversation making the patriarch smile. The group moved deeper through the Arceon until they came upon a wide set of double doors. The large doors were made of a dark, heavy wood, one was open, letting the light from the room spill into the hall. There were voices and a heartbeat coming from within.

The room was stunning. The floors were a thick, polished glass with white designs and inscriptions written into the entirety of it. The walls stretched high above to a sculpted ceiling of graceful lines and arced curves. There was a closed, circular opening in the very center, elaborately carved and made of the same dark wood as the door. What was interesting, were the tall, thin trees that grew along the walls, their leaves a rich, vibrant, red and the roots disappeared deep below the crystal floors and the bark was pale and smooth. the trees obscured parts of the walls but neither took away from the other and the sculpted posts that supported the ceiling above were the same pale stone as the walls and were embroidered in gold lines that coiled around them all the way up. Between the walls and the clear, blue glass of the floor the room looked as if it rose from calm, crystalline waters. Despite the unimaginable beauty of the room, Carlisle's eyes were not on it and instead he stared forward, suddenly feeling startlingly sober.

There was a low circular dais at the center of the room draped in a coverlet such a deep red it looked nearly black. There were large, deep violet and indigo cushions and amongst them sat Nolan. He was reclining, legs bent comfortably. It could have been the surrealism of the entire situation, maybe it was the way the fire reflected off his features, or maybe it was something else entirely, but there was something about the sight of the man that took Carlisle aback. The first time he had lain eyes on him, Carlisle saw the unmistakable burn in his eyes. Behind that desolate, empty look was something the vampire could never name. He now realized it was this. Carlisle was well aware that there was more to Nolan and his sister but the reality of the entirety of it never struck him until now. Nolan had grown and developed in the two years Carlisle knew him, or so he had thought. But it was adamantly clear that this was Nolan. It had always been Nolan. His expression wasn't particularly severe. There was a slight smile on his red lips and his pale icy eyes were vibrant and serene and his demeanor was relaxed as he spoke to Esme but he truly looked . . . Imperial. He belonged there.

Elias nudged him lightly and Carlisle looked at him. The other was smiling secretively. "Truly a king on his throne, mm?"

The truth of that statement was much more than the light tone suggested.