Her cell wasn't the same as before.

Maka wasn't sure how she knew this to be true, but there was something different about the scrapes into the grey walls and the way the iron bars echoed when she brought her foot up against them. Maybe it was the rage that seemed to be fueling her movements, the anger was either sharpening her senses or dulling them, she couldn't be certain.

Finally, she dropped onto the straw mattress, a puff of dust and the smell of mildew following her action. Her heart beat against her chest painfully, and she brought a hand up to try and staunch the pain. There wasn't a damn thing she could do. Soul was going to die. Blake would never escape. There would be nothing left of their dreams, or their goals. There would be nothing left of the Forest, nothing left of the Fae, or the Saints.

Arachne had won.

Tears stung her eyes, and she clenched her teeth against the sorrow, unwilling to recognize the end just yet. Maka wasn't a foolish girl, she knew more than she had any right to, and she couldn't let this be the end. The Dweller had only considered her death once to twice before, and it had not been trapped in an iron cage. No, if this truly was the end for her, she was going to make it difficult for them. She was not so easy to kill, and they would have their work cut out for them if they intended to have her compliantly wait for death in the dark.

She would dance with the Reaper at her last hour, but it wouldn't be here. Her head rested against the wall, and she let out a deep breath, sending peace through her veins. A level head would be her most valuable weapon now, and she was desperate to wield it.

"Has your Light died out so soon?" A voice spoke to her in the darkness, soft and familiar. Maka froze, her hand clenched into a fist. She crawled over to her bars, trying to get a glimpse of the other prisoner in the darkness. "Oh yes, hold on a moment."

Across from her, a small flame came to life, and was directed to a nub of a candle. The woman waved her kindling out, then pushed the candle towards her cell door as well. Maka's heart froze in her ribs when the light came to rest on the prisoner. Her dress was very fine, and her hair was done up nicely, as though she was on her way to a ball. Her eyes met Maka's in the dim light, a brilliant red looking back at her. There were plenty of hints as to who this woman was, but it was the way her smile curved at the corner of her mouth that made it known. "You're...You're Soul's sister."

The woman smiled, relief in her own eyes as she wrapped a hand around the bars, her nails colored with a red pigment. "He's okay then?!"

"He…" Maka swallowed the rest of her words. The other girl looked at her expectantly, and she bit her lip. "He was surrendered to Medusa."

"Ah, so he's mostly okay." Her sigh was filled with relief, and her Hell Child eyes landed on Maka again. "I think I should thank you, far as I can tell, you saved my brother a few thousand times."

"...Not the time it mattered." Maka whispered, her own knuckles going white on the bars. His sister scoffed, readjusting herself on her own dirty mattress. The Dweller froze, her lips spreading into a smile against her will.

"Are you with child?"

"Ah, yes. I am. I forgot that most people don't know." She smiled. "I'm Weslin, by the way."

"My name is Maka."

"You've had a long few months, I'm sure. I was able to see most of it, but lately, my vision hasn't been so clear. So maybe you can help me, what was it that Arachne sent you to the Forest for?"

"...I lead a foolish boy straight to the heart of the Forest, so that he could poison the Tree. I...I am such a fool. And for what!? Land!? How could I have been so stupid!?"

"Now now," Wes soothed, her forehead resting against the bars. "Nothing is done that can't be undone."

"...Soul said you were cryptic."

"Ha! Cryptic is better than brooding, any day. Besides, I'm going to save his life, so he should be nicer to me."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Well, I'm not. You are."

Maka blinked, and felt a laugh bubble from her throat. It sounded flat, barely loud enough to echo off the walls. "How? I'm dying, and he's with Medusa, I've only heard rumors of what she does, and I'm grossly incapable of doing anything but running towards my death at her."

"The rumors are not wrong." Wes admitted, rubbing her arm. "But you don't have to fight her alone, you'll have Soul with you."

"...They broke his arm."

"...Oh, poor Soul. But think, even if they hadn't, he wouldn't have a bow regardless. He's good for a little bit more than just arrows. Not much, mind you, but enough."

Maka blinked at her, the clear confidence on Wes' face confounding her. There was no way this could work! There was...There was no hope. She couldn't kick through iron bars, she couldn't find Blake in the mess of tunnels down here, and she couldn't save the Forest. She couldn't do anything to help, and how could this other girl sit there so confidently and simply proclaim escape as though it would be served up on a silver platter. Wes grinned at her, pointing a finger her way. "It's been so long since I've spoken to someone who doesn't believe me. It's refreshing."

"There's no way out."

"I'll get you out."

"How!?"

"Don't worry, it'll find us. I know I'm not supposed to tell, but I have a very good idea of how my brother is supposed to die, at it is not here."

"But-"

"It's alright, I promise you I'll get you out. You should rest now, sister. You look weary, and even this disgusting pile of straw is better than the floor. I admit that time is limited, but we have not run out just yet. Sleep."

Maka didn't know what else to say, so she nodded. The light from the candle was blown out as she crawled back other to her bed, body curling into itself as she closed her eyes. There was something reassuring in the way the prophet spoke, as though what she said was law, and nothing would go wrong. Everything was there to go wrong for them, a single dweller couldn't topple a Kingdom, so why would she be trusted to free anyone. Even if she could free Soul, how would they stop what had already been set into effect? They were nearly powerless.

"I said rest, sister, not panic." Wes' voice traveled between their cells. "You'll wake to more fighting, it's best you rest now."

Blake felt as though he was drowning.

Somewhere between Asura showing his face, and being dragged before the Queen, Blake had realized he had been wounded. There wasn't a mark on him he could blame on the pain, but he felt wounded regardless. Something inside of him had been ripped open, and he could feel it bleeding under his skin.

The cell they had him in was small, or it felt small. He knew the shock would wear off soon, and he would be stuck pacing this damn cell like an animal trapped in a marketplace , desperate eyes on foolish men who believed they could purchase another being so easily. He had already been that animal. Freedom had been short lived but he couldn't go back, he wouldn't go back. There were better options in the afterlife than the ones presented in front of him.

Kid flashed through his mind for a moment, just a second of thought given to the boy who had betrayed him so easily. He looked as surprised as you did a villainous voice whispered to him, and Blake clenched his jaw.

Kid hadn't told him about the Rune either, and that would've changed some things. It had to. If he had just been honest, maybe they could've figured it out before anyone had gotten hurt. Before he had gotten hurt. He was dancing along a dangerous line in his head, desperation fighting with the desire to let go, to let himself go numb, to just forget about this all.

It had happened to him once before, when he had been near thirteen summers. The master he had been sold to was a cold bastard, who made damn sure to beat him hard every time he messed up, and harder still for nothing but sick sport. Blake had lost himself, in some sort of way. His mind had abandoned him, and he was empty inside. He had stayed that way for a few years, a walking corpse minding crops and taking fists to the face.

He had woken up when he had made what he could only consider his first friend, another slave with no name who had helped put him back together after a bad beating. That boy had been a damn savior, as far as Blake had been concerned. He had never shared his story, Blake couldn't say where he had been or even where he was now, but for that amount of time, he had been a blessing from the Gods. His friend had brought him back from the darkness, and he had taught him how to heal as he coaxed him back out. How to splint a broken bone, how to stave off infection, how to save your own life when no one else could.

That boy had been everything for him, and even though he hadn't had a name for him, Blake had recognized his feelings may have run deeper than friendship with him. They had stayed together as often as they could, it was much harder for their master to keep up the energy beat the two of them together. It had taken sixteen summers for Blake to believe in hope again, and he held onto it tightly, afraid if he let go, he would never see it again. His friend had felt the same, clinging tightly to him as well.

His master had traded Blake away a few months after that, getting three female slaves for him, and the boy who had saved him had kissed him before he had left, begging him to take care of himself. Blake had promised, he couldn't give the other boy anything else but this promise. He thought about him often, wondering what had happened to him, and if he had ever gotten out of there.

He wasn't sure he ever really wanted to know what had happened to him.

But he had taught Blake a hell of a lesson, and he knew if he gave up now, then his life would become a living hell, with no escape. But if he fought, even if he lost, if he fought, then he would be able to face himself again. He wasn't ready to give up just yet. The Star Clan Survivor stood then, walking over to his cell door.

"Maka!" He called into the darkness, loudly. He called her name a few more times, the only responses he received were swears and moans from other prisoners. Shit. So they had put her in a different section of the dungeons then. Didn't matter, he would find her soon enough.

The soft echo of footsteps bounced off the walls, and Blake looked through his bars, fingers wrapping around cold iron. A dim light approached flickering shadows being born from the light. When the wielder got closer, Blake's mouth drew into a scowl. Kid met his eyes, relief mixed with shame. "Blake-"

"Probably shouldn't be caught talking to scum, Highness."

"Please, can I just-I'm-" Kid stood by his cell, and Blake's scowl grew deeper. The Prince was clean, his stubble gone and his clothes back to their fine silks. He smelled nicer too, not like grass as he had on their trip. Blake clenched his jaw at this stranger in front of him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know what she planned."

"Why would I believe you?"

"I didn't want this! I thought...I thought I could help fix it, thought maybe there would finally be peace. I didn't know she was sending me to kill the Forest."

"Then why didn't you tell us about the Rune?"

Kid looked ashamed, running a hand through his hair, it already looked as though it was getting whiter in places, as though the stress was poisoning him. "My mother told me it was a treaty, and I didn't think it was relevant."

"If it wasn't relevant, why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"...It didn't seem relevant-"

Blake brought his foot against the cell, the noise making Kid jump, and Blake reached for his shirt, pulling him against the bars. "Better you not breathe than breathe anymore lies to me, do you fucking understand?!"

Kid blinked, then closed his eyes, resting his head against the bars of the cell. "My mother thought if any of you knew I was trying to save the King, you'd sabotage me."

"Except that wasn't to save the damn King, was it? It was so you could fucking slaughter the Forest."

"...Aye. So it seems that's how it's become."

Blake had so much he wanted to say, to yell and scream and punch into this damned royal fool, but he also knew it would be pointless. "You are so pathetic. How can you just sit there and let her get away with this!? She's wrong and you know she's wrong! Yet here you stand, doing nothing."

"She's my mother!"

"And your mother is the one who caused all this! The fucking Forest gave you the Rune to save your father, and that bitch of a Queen didn't even ask about it! She couldn't care less if he had lived or not! Open your damn eyes."

Kid winced, but his jaw set when he looked back up at Blake. "They are my family."

"You're their pawn!"

"...I don't expect you to understand. I didn't come here to fight either. I wanted you to know I'm trying to get you out of here."

"What about Maka? And Soul?"

"...I'm fairly certain I can get Maka, I don't know if I can pry Soul away from my Aunt-"

"Then don't bother." Blake spat, throwing Kid away from the cell. "In fact, go put on your crown and hang that innocent girl for your Father's death, and we will get ourselves out. Best thing you could do is stay the fuck away from us."

Kid flinched again, words on the tip of his tongue. He decided against his defense, and he took a shaking breath. "If that's what you want."

"I wanted you to trust me enough that you'd be honest with me. It's your damned doing."

"...You're right." Kid whispered. Blake sat back down on the straw piled up in the corner. The Prince understood the dismissal, but he still hesitated before he walked away, the dim light of his candle retreating with him.

Blake took a massive breath, the air ripping through his lungs, and he tried damn hard to keep his composure. That had hurt more than it had any right to, and Blake just wanted to punch something. He sat in his silence for a long while, simultaneously chastising and praising himself for not accepting the Prince's help. It would be harder to escape without him, but not impossible.

"Trouble with Mate?" A voice spoke in the darkness, and Blake lifted his head.

"Scary Wolf?"

"In next cell. You fight with mate?"

"Not my mate."

"Sure sound like it." Blake made a face at the wall, but then he stood up, getting as close to the other cell as he could.

"They got you locked up too?"

"They lie to us too." The Wolf's voice was bitter, and Blake nodded. He understood the pain.

"Hey, can you smell the girl that was with me when you found us?"

"Dweller? Yes. Smells like pine needles. Very strong. She underground too. Probably in cell. East."

"...How would you like to get out of here too?"

"Be Free again?"

"Be Free again."

"We save my mate?"

"You have my word." Blake whispered. From the next cell, a hand was offered in the darkness. Blake took it, shaking it firmly. He could almost hear the other man grinning the next cage over.

"Can I also have promise I get to kill Prince with red eyes?"

"Don't get greedy now."

Marie stood tall, though she herself also felt the ache of sickness in her veins.

Around her, a crowd of warriors stood in various armors. The Elves had war paint circling their wide black eyes. Spears and arrows stood at the ready, weapons decorated with each clans specific branding and feather. The sirens sat wading in the river, most of them looked disinterested, but the leader with the bright gold eyes was watching the rest carefully. Their weapons were small daggers carved from the bones of their victims, and sat in tightly clenched fists. Even as they stood, more and more Dwellers appeared.

Waves of them still came through the trees, many of them looking a little worse for the wear, and many still looked as though they hadn't yet felt this plague attack them. Marie stood to face them, her fingers laced behind her back. "Most of you have seen the display put before us. You've seen your family and your friends become ill, and we call it plague. This is no plague! The Humans had sent a party into our branches, and they dared to poison us, in our own home!"

"How far has it spread?" The spokesperson of the Elves asked, the rest of them nodded. Marie shook her head, looking off into the distance.

"It is hard to say, we are getting many reports from the settlements nearest the Tree, but also from the edges of the Forest as well. It doesn't seem to attack specific Dwellers, it seems to want us all."

"And that is extending?"

"Yes, I believe even our human born kin will suffer as we do. It's attaching magic."

Rage began to bubble underneath the quiet of the ranks. The Fae, having known this already, stood stone faced with their hands around their weapons. Shouts of anger and battle broke out, and Marie held her hands up to silence them. "I know your rage! I feel it best with my own heart! The rulers of the humans came at us unprovoked and they attacked us. We have years too long excused their attempt to cleanse the world of us before, and here they have come to try again. This will not stand!"

Clans cheered from either side, but the Siren stood then, her eyes on Marie's. "What happens now then? We march on this castle? We destroy them? What stands after that? Why do we leave our safety for war?"

"Dearest songbird," Marie sighed, "They have killed our safety. The humans sent here poisoned the Forest Spirit. She lays dying, and the death will spread through her leaves. As ill as we are all beginning to feel, the Forest is dying. And with it, we will follow her. For decades she has protected us, she has given us food, shelter and love. With it, we must give her protection. This is our home, and we'll be damned if they take another home from us!"

The cheers were louder this time, and Marie felt a smile cross her face. "We will march on them. A few waves of us will use the magic to get us there sooner. The bulk of us shall march through this kingdom, warning those humans who are smart to leave, and those who are foolish will be slaughtered. No more home for those who don't deserve it!"

Her Fae stood first, fist over their hearts as they gazed up at her. "We give blood and body to you!"

"And I will return it!"

The Elves stood next, their leader walking to the front of the platoon. "We are not happy that we were right about the Intruders. However, we stand with you now, Marie, Queen of Fae, wielder of thunder and master of skies. The Elves give blood and body to you."

"And I will return it!"

"We stand with you too." The leader of the Sirens stood with her people, eyes hardened in the darkness. "This is our home, and they have threatened us again. We are tired of Human complacency, and it is high time they were punished for they hell they continue to inflict on us! The Sirens give blood and body to you!"

"And every drop given to me will be returned!" Marie lifted her hammer towards the sky, and thunder crashed, echoing hard against the world. The Dwellers cheered, the sound nearly as deafening as the thunder. "They wish to see the world shake! Let us show them what it means!"

A presences had them all shivering, and several sets of eyes found themselves landing on a tall figure, armor white as snow. She stood next to Marie, who bowed. Immediately, the rest of the Dwellers fell to their knees before her. She lifted her hands to them, small smile on her face. Her inky hair was knotted at the base of her neck, and her helmet sat underneath her arm. "Hello, my dearest family."

"Friends," Marie smiled. "I wish to introduce you to my General, the Saint of Love."

A ripple of shock ran through the Dwellers. The Sirens dropped even lower in their bow, as they would be the first to admit love is how they prayed on their people. The rest of the Dwellers stood tall, their eyes frozen on the Saint. It had been near a century since a Saint had walked among them, and her magic brushed against theirs delicately, with a respect for all of them.

"Many of you do not know me." She spoke, eyes resting on the crowd that grew bigger still. "But I know you all. I know of your bloodlines, your clans, and your families. I know this Forest. I love this Forest, and the spirit who protects us. I ask you to help me save her. She is all I have left to remember who I am. I would sooner die myself than see that threatened. So please, I will give you all I have, but trust and follow me."

"She is leading the first wave of soldiers." Marie spoke again, her hand resting on Jackie's shoulder. "Your mission is to help her infiltrate the castle, and destroy the Rune that plagues us. Kill only who you must, and capture the Queen. She may yet be needed to destroy the Rune, and petty vengeance will not be the cause of our deaths. We are better than that."

A solemn nod went through those gathered, and Marie addressed her Fae. "Harvar. Take your five best men, and join the General on her mission."

"You can also have my two best bows." The Elf Leader spoke, two elves kneeling before Marie and Jackie. "They're at least competition for that pesky Hell Child that came through here."

"Marked, and repaid. Thank you Azusa." Marie nodded.

"You can have me as well." Blair, leader of the Sirens spoke. "I am more than happy to serve the mother of the Forest."

Marie smiled, tears filling her eyes. "Decades ago, we stood and defended our land, and in the end, we chose to live together in peace rather than bloodshed. Today, we defend our land knowing that there cannot be peace. Not so long as men rule, dear ones, return to us unharmed, and hold that castle for us. We will come to you."

Harvar stood tall, his armor catching light through the leaves. "It is with honor we offer body and blood."

"It is with honor I will defend it." Marie promised, raising her arm. "Travel swiftly, and remember, the castle will be full. Move quickly, and kill only what stands in your way."

The Frontline party bowed low, leaving the meeting. Marie smiled at the Dwellers who remained. "Now, we shall plan the march."

The cheer of the Dwellers shook the trees, magic combining between clans and families for the first time in decades. Marie was not a violent Queen, and she herself had learned there was beauty in peace, but the time for such things had gone, and she had no choice but to protect her people, the way she had been unable to the first time.

Humans could only make the same mistake so many times.

Medusa was pleased and perplexed at the same time, watching the knight chain her new specimen to the table.

She was to believe that this Hell Child was the twin of the mistress, but that seemed so difficult to believe, with his presentation of the male gender, larger frame and completely different eyes. How could they share so much yet be so different?

"His arm is broken ma'am." The knight explained from where he held another shackle. "You want him bound up anyways?"

"Oh yes. The last one nearly choked me to death, and she was well restrained. Please make sure he's secure." The knight did as he was told, Tightening the straps around the Hell Child's wrist. The creature winced, but said nothing, his mouth drawn into a displeased line. His eyes were darker than his sister's, and she approached him, trailing a finger under his eye. "You don't look much like your sister."

He still didn't answer her, his eyes trained on the small window in the corner of her tower. Medusa followed his line of sight, and she noticed she could barely make out the trees in her sister's garden. "Can you see those trees clearly? Now that is impressive. Or can you just remember what it looks like from your front row seat?"

His mouth drew into a scowl and she saw a little more resemblance between him and his sister. Medusa chuckled, strolling over to her workspace, gathering her tools. "It is something isn't it? A hanging. Watching someone just like you choke to death for the amusement of the crown."

"You think I'm scared of a hanging?" He finally spoke, though he sounded bored. "Don't think a hanging would quite finish the job."

"Well, it'll finish your sister right off. Especially with all the extra weight she's been packing around."

"Petty isn't a good look on your reptilian face."

"Ha! You aren't as tactful as Weslin, are you?"

The Hell Child shrugged, eyes still resting on the trees. Medusa grinned, wiping her knives with a saltwater solution. "Are you waiting to watch your sister hang?"

"She won't even make it to the tree." His voice was still uninterested, but there was a conviction in his words. He moved his shoulder a little, head lolling to look at the black stain on the table. "You must've pissed her off though."

"Well, it took quite a while to get her that riled up."

"That bruise on your neck from her as well?"

"Perceptive little demon aren't you?"

"Unfortunately." He answered, smug look on his face. "Keeps the game fair though."

"And what game is that?"

"The one you're playing." He answered, eyes finally resting on her. "I'm not as good at this game as she is, with the mind games and the prophecy, I can only see what is, and you are not going to be what kills me."

Medusa was suddenly in front of him, black in her eyes slitted as she looked him over. A blade flashed in front of them, wicked grin on her face. "You have such confidence for someone in such a dire situation, and I can't figure out what it is about you children specifically that makes you think you aren't in danger here."

"A whole lot of pluck." His voice was deadpan, and Medusa snarled, bringing her knife down on the palm on his broken hand. The Hell Child clenched his teeth until she could hear a pop in his jaw, his eyes narrowed as they met hers.

"Huh," Medusa grinned, her weight pressed against the knife. "That was all it took to get her blood black."

He didn't answer, but he closed his fist around her knife, arm trembling with the effort. Medusa shrugged, reaching for another one. She twirled the blade between her fingers, using her other hand to stroke his face. "I did so enjoy meeting that demon, and I would like to speak to yours."

"Don't bother, he's a right asshole." The Hell Child panted, his face screwed up in pain.

"This must be a composure thing, isn't it? If I can break your mask, I can talk to your monster. But you aren't like your sister, with your weakness exposed. So let's dig a little deeper together, and figure out exactly what we can do to make you bleed a little blacker."

"Well, if you keep talking, that's a pretty good start."

He bowled as the second knife was stabbed through the palm of his good hand, tears lining his eyes against his will. Harsh breath was drawn between his teeth, his eyes landed on her, flashing dark before they were closed again. "There's creatures in Hell less vile than you."

"That almost seems like a compliment."

"Promise it's not."

"Well, I have plenty of time to change your mind."

Maka dreamt of fire again, but it wasn't like the Forest fire, this wrapped around her and consumed her completely, bleaching her bones and searing her flesh. She sucked a breath through her teeth, trying to center herself through the pain. The flames licked at her soul, the pit in her chest where her magic lie, what few sparks that still remained trying to push it back.

She woke with a choked gasp, though her body refused to move. She blinked into the darkness a couple times, trying to catch her breath. Her anger had finally damn near extinguished, though her limbs were heavy. Maka felt like she was underwater, her fingers moved slowly into a fist as she tried to warm her body up. There was a rattle of chains in the darkness, and she heard Wes speak again. "Are you awake?"

"I feel heavy."

"Something punishes the Forest, doesn't it? I saw something like that happen, but I haven't really been up on current events lately."

"The Royals did something. The Second Son carried a Rune, the Queen made it, I'm not really sure how it all happened." With effort she was surprised she still had, Maka hauled herself into a sitting position, spots dancing in front of her eyes. "I know that it's killing me though."

She heard a soft chuckle in the dark. "We'll make it before time runs out."

Wes' optimism was unheard of, truly. Maka was trying to figure out how the two of them could survive this, let alone get everyone else she cared about out of danger. Trying to bring some life back into her limbs, she pulled her hair from its mess of a braid, hoping the fingers combing through her hair would calm her. She was nearly halfway done, body waking up with each twist when she heard the footsteps echo through the hall. Her body tensed up immediately, but she heard Wes whisper again. "Shhh, danger doesn't come this way."

Maka forced herself to relax, leaning against her knees so she can try and make out the figure that approached. Dim light bathed the path a few moments before the figure approached, and Maka had to stop her jaw from dropping against the cold stone floor. The figure was tall, taller even than Soul, and they wore dark red robes of fine silk, shadows dancing against it like moonlight on water. The hood over their head did little to hide the smooth bone of the mask over their face.

The King stood before her.

He's a spirit! A voice inside her screamed to protect herself, but she was already behind iron bars, what else could she do?! There was nothing to ward him away, and he had his hollow black gaze trained on Wes. The Hell Child only smiled, crossing her legs before her. "Well, here I had heard you died."

"Only on the inside." He assured her, resting heavily on the bars that locked her cell. Maka could hear the twinkling of metal, and Wes' door was then unlocked, the King settling down to rest with her, candle by his side. "Why did you think I died?"

"Oh Her Majesty is telling people you've already passed. You know how she like to plan ahead."

"All too well." He sighed, trying to get comfortable on the floor. Maka couldn't believe her eyes, the fact that the King still breathe enraged her, but not for herself, she recognized, but for Kid.

"Ugh, won't you take your mask off?" Wes ordered, using a tone one wouldn't-rather shouldn't-take with a King. "You look foolish and no one here is going to respect you more with that mask on your face?"

He chuckled, bringing a hand up to his mask. "There is no one alive who speaks to me as up do." He tossed the mask away from his face, and sighed. He really was a handsome man, Maka noticed. He had a full beard on his face, and a head of thick hair. Though she could see streaks of silver when he turned his head. His eyes were the same golden color as Kids, and he had a softness in his smile that was unexpected for a ruler. Handsome as he was, she also saw the shine of sweat on his brow and the pallor of his waxy skin. His dying wasn't a lie, it seemed.

"Of course not, I am one of a kind." Wes rested her head on his shoulder, and for just a moment, the charade around her faltered, and Maka saw the pain under her mask. The King rested his head against hers and Maka looked away, feeling very much the gawker that she was.

"How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I'm just fine. Better than you, I would venture."

"I fear you would be right. I don't have too much longer, I think. But I wanted to see you before I lost my chance. There's good reason for that mask, the servants themselves don't recognize me without it."

"Invigorating isn't it? Well I'm glad you're here. Your wife has upset me."

"What now?"

"She's planning on letting that snake kill my brother, and I cannot have that. You understand that." It wasn't a question, but a command. The King smiled, strained as it was.

"How can I help?"

Wes looked over at Maka then, a rather smug smile on her face. "See that girl? She spent the last few months leading your son through the Forest. She got him home safe, and she's the one who will save my brother. She just needs your keys."

Maka knew her jaw did drop then, the absurdity of the situation was surreal. She wasn't supposed to escape! She wasn't supposed to be given keys. This wasn't possible, yet the King sat forward, meeting her eyes. "You brought Little Kid home?"

"A-aye, I mean-yes, sir."

He waved his hand, a smile on his face. "No need for manners, they're wasted on a dying man. But thank you, for keeping my son safe. I'm indebted to you, though with my kingdom thinking I'm dead, I don't know how much help I can be."

"Keys are a good start." Maka offered, and his smile grew wider. He tossed the keys into her cell, and gave her a fancy half bow. She scrambled to her feet, freeing herself from the cell. Freedom was interesting intoxicatingly enough that her pain was forgotten, and she stood before Wes' cell. "Are you coming?"

"Please believe me when I saw I cause the least amount of damage here. I am very pregnant, and very slow. Besides, I'm better with words than I am with a blade. I would only put you in more danger. But I will be here when you need me." Wes smiled at her, and Maka swallowed hard, clenching the keys in her hand.

"Okay, but please be careful."

"You too, get my brother, and try to stay alive."

Maka nodded, before heading back the way she saw the King came, but not before she could hear the last snippet of their conversation behind her.

What do you want me to name him?

Arachne only looked up from her papers when her son entered the room.

"Yes dear?" She asked, tone bored as she returned to her tax inventories and predicted growths of next years crops. Asura stood with his hands behind his back, mouth set in a grim line.

"There's been sightings of Dwellers on the outer villages. They're fleeting, but I can only imagine they're headed here."

"Oh? They mean to fight us?"

"I don't imagine it's a social visit, and their magic allows them to travel in a faster rate than what we have at our disposal. I imagine they'll be here sooner than later."

Arachne rested her chin on her hand, looking at her son. "How long do you suppose we have?"

"A day at the earliest, two at the latest."

"My, My. Magic is such a scourge on the world, bending and altering realities set in place by the Gods themselves. Ready a few platoons of Knights, and send out four war parties out towards the North. I would prefer to meet them before they made it to our castle. I would rather we be well armed going into this night. Your coronation will be moved up to tomorrow. Fitting that the new King would be able to destroy the last ditch effort of the dying Dwellers."

"If you think that's best." Asura answered, mouth drawn into a scowl. "And what about Kid?"

"Prepare him as well, he should be rested enough to join the battle."

"He was seen going into the dungeons. To visit that slave."

Arachne raised an eyebrow, the edge of her quill brushing against her lips. "Really? And what did they discuss?"

"I am not sure, but I also don't trust him. Why would he give a damn about the travel party unless he felt some sort of remorse for them. As though they were anything other than tools. He's weak, mother."

"He's young, he doesn't know much else. His father raised him weak, and it's simply a habit he must break. Perhaps we can help him along with that."

"How do you suggest we do so?"

"Well we're already having a hanging tomorrow, let's add a few bodies to the gallows. There's a couple other Hell Children in the dungeons, we can hang the slave with them, and perhaps the mouthy Dweller as well. We truly would only be out a few gold pieces."

Asura considered that, nodding slowly. "It would be good for him, to have the object of his torment removed. I think it's a good idea, after all, the pain will only make him stronger."

"It's the best teacher I've found, and he's a sweet boy, but if he is to defend his King and country, he will need to harden up. When the distraction is removed, he will be filled with rage, and he'll have an army of weakened Dwellers to release the anger upon." Arachne smiled, resuming her paperwork. "He's close to an edge, with the death of his father. He needs a few pushes in the right direction, to harden his heart in the face of adversity. Not everything can be solved over meeting and compromise, and as a ruler, he must learn this lesson, as you did."

"When father passes-"

"It will manifest in that who has trained to hold it. It is a massive amount of power, and Kid has not been prepared for it. I feel you worry too much, I know what I'm doing, my son."

Asura frowned, eyes narrowed at her words. "You keep telling me to be patient, and yet, I have yielded nothing."

"Silence, you foolish boy! You question me now! On what is the eve of your coronation?! The eve of your awakening! I don't have the patience or the time for these childish antics. I have done everything for you, and now you're going to listen to your mother, and send out the platoons! Dismissed."

Asura snarled at the Queen, though she pointedly ignored him. She had much more pressing matters to attend to, such as the drastically lower expectation of wheat the eastern villages expected to produce in the next year.

Sorry it's a little on the short side, but the next one will be LENGTHY. Please review and let me know what you think! :)