That night, Kain didn't sleep. First, he took his time cleaning the blood from Cecil's arms and face, who slept fitfully through, despite the cold water. Kain could do little about the blood threaded through Cecil's hair and the sight of it broke his heart. Then, Kain wiped the floor, trying to wash away all evidence of what had happened. He did his best, but there were still faint red smudges soaked into the grains of the floorboards.

It took Kain longer to approach the knife on the floor, left in its own small puddle of tacky blood, the handle marked with Cecil's bloody fingerprints. Kain was dismayed yet not surprised when he saw the knife was a twin of the one Odin had given Kain. He wondered how many young people Odin had tried to persuade with a pretty speech about loyalty and how often it worked.

After that, Kain alternated between keeping vigil over the still sleeping Cecil and reading the dark knight tome. He leafed through the pages, trying to make sense of the magic that almost drowned his friend. With growing horror, Kain read the detailed instructions of focusing on painful thoughts and memories and using them to conjure the darkest feeling within oneself: hatred. It was this hatred as much as the blood itself that fueled the dark magic.

Kain imagined Cecil, the blade pressed to his skin, pulling up every terrible memory that ever made him feel awkward and excluded, every interaction where he felt like an outsider, and all the times when Rosa and Kain left Cecil behind. Kain imagined Cecil's loneliness bled into resentment, and eventually into hatred. Could Cecil really hate Kain and Rosa? Kain was paralyzed in fear at the very thought.

Kain did not think much about Rosa on her own, not allowing his thoughts to drift her way. If he dared, if his mind wandered to the moment that nearly happened between them, he felt an intense wave of guilt that was too much to bear.

Finally, as the sun climbed the horizon and sent shining rays in through the window, Cecil opened his eyes to the light. "Kain?" he asked, gaze still blurry and unfocused from sleep.

"I'm here," Kain said, crossing the room to sit on the bed's edge. "How are you feeling?"

"Embarrassed," Cecil said bluntly, sitting up in bed. He looked down at his wrist, saw the clean flesh and the tiny white seam where the gash had been. He held up his hand, wonder on his face. "Who did this? Did you get a white mage?" Cecil gulped loudly, then asked in a scared voice, "Who knows about this?"

"It was Rosa," Kain said quickly. "Only she saw. And she doesn't know about the..." Kain hesitated, looking back at Cecil's desk. "...the dark knight stuff." Kain looked back to Cecil, concern softening his tone. "Did the magic work?" Kain asked, desperately hoping Cecil would say no.

"Oh," Cecil said in a subdued tone. He didn't answer for a long time, then quietly spoke. "You found the book, huh?" he asked, avoiding Kain's question. Cecil seemed less troubled by the idea of just his friends knowing, and that thought alone was a comfort to Kain.

Kain considered telling Cecil the truth: that Odin had approached Kain about dark knight training first. But would the sacrificial lamb want to know they were a second choice? Kain decided that it would only hurt Cecil more, and just nodded in reply.

Cecil sighed, his shoulders deflating. "I suppose the secret's out now, isn't it?"

"Did it work?" Kain asked again, not allowing to let Cecil slip away from the question.

Cecil said nothing, looking out the window instead. He looked frail in the critically honest light of the morning sun, bright and unforgiving as it exposed him: the dark circles under his reddened eyes, the uneasy tension of his mouth, the rusty brown streaks of dried blood spoiling his silver hair. Cecil's hurt was raw and on display; Kain wanted to look away but found himself unable.

"Yes," Cecil finally answered, his voice small and quiet.

"I'm sorry," Kain said, the words tight in his throat. "Do you..." he hesitated, finally forcing himself to look away, his guilt weighing him down. "Do still you hate me?" Then, correctly himself quicky, "Us? Me and Rosa?"

"No," Cecil said quickly, shaking his head. "No, Kain, not at all. It wasn't hating you, or Rosa, or anyone else that finally let me tap into the magic." Cecil looked down at his wrist, then touched the new scar with careful fingers. "It was hate for myself," he said quietly. Cecil looked back up at Kain, a new pain in his voice. "I could never hate you." How could you doubt me? Cecil's wounded eyes wordlessly accused Kain.

"How can you hate yourself?" Kain asked, incredulously. Years later, he'd reflect on this question and scowl at his past self's naivete.

Cecil gave a small laugh, but there was no humor in it. "You saw my tantrum. And all because you two were spending time together? I hate myself for my selfishness, for my stupid need for more attention, more approval, more love." He threw his hands in exasperation. "Where does it end? If I am to be king, where will my greedy grasping lead Baron?"

Kain had no answer, stunned into silence by Cecil's admission. He always seemed so damn perfect all the time, how could even Cecil be struggling with own unfulfilled wants? Kain felt another pang of guilt, wondering again what Cecil might think of Kain and Rosa together, without him?

"At least this way," Cecil continued, when Kain had said nothing for too long, "I can redirect my worst parts into something useful."

"Do you have to do this, Cecil? Can't you tell the king no?" Kain asked. The idea of Cecil intentionally hurting himself gutted Kain in a way he could not articulate. "You could be a pilot. Or a knight. You'd do well at both."

"But not as well as this," Cecil whispered with an awe that frightened Kain. He looked down at his wrist again, running his thumb back and forth across the new scar. "I could feel... so much power. I won't ever be as good at anything else."

"But Cecil-"

"I can't tell the king no," Cecil continued over Kain, his voice unusually stern. "You, with your father's legacy, have a choice. I owe the king everything and so I must give him everything."

Before Kain could protest further, heavy boots thundered outside the room, followed by a quick knock at the door. With alarm, Kain stood, scrambled for the door, then opened it.

King Odin stood on the other side, tall and imposing. In Kain's wild imagination, it was as if Cecil had summoned Odin by name, invoking old forgotten fey magic.

"Your Majesty," both Kain and Cecil said at the same time.

The guards remained outside, as Odin stepped in. He acknowledged Kain's presence with a curt nod, then crossed the room quickly to Cecil's beside. "You are not well," Odin said, not as a question but a statement. "I thought something might be wrong when you missed your morning lessons."

"Forgive me sir," Cecil said quickly, looking mortified. "I am, as you said, unwell."

Odin reached down, lifting Cecil's arm. He turned it over, to look at the underside of Cecil's wrist. "You attempted on your own?"

"I did," Cecil admitted shyly.

"But did it work?" Odin asked, a new eagerness in his voice. He touched Cecil's wrist curiously. "Did you figure it out?"

"I did," Cecil said, but this time he smiled.

Kain's stomach dropped.

"My boy!" Odin boomed, pulling Cecil into an unexpected embrace. Kain had never witnessed Odin showing any affection before and the sight of it shocked him. Cecil seemed equally surprised; his eyes going wide over Odin's shoulder. "You did it!" Odin released Cecil, but still gripped him by the shoulders. "If you do this right, you will be unmatched."

Cecil soaked in the attention like a parched plant, becoming more alive and blooming.

Kain hated it.

Then, suddenly, Odin was frowning again. Odin released Cecil's shoulders and picked his hand back up, holding Cecil by the wrist to inspect the scar. "Who did this?" Odin asked. "These wounds are complicated and difficult to heal without training."

"Kain brought a healer from the infirmary," Cecil said quickly. It was the first lie Kain had ever heard Cecil utter. "I did not recognize them. They were robed."

Odin dropped Cecil's wrist, turning on his heel to face Kain now. "Who was it, Kain?"

"I don't know many of the white mages," Kain said, not directly lying, hoping that made it somehow more acceptable.

Odin frowned deeper but said nothing more about it. Instead, he looked back to Cecil. There was almost fondness in his voice as he said, "We will talk more after you've recovered."

"Yes sir," Cecil agreed easily, sounding relieved.

Odin left, with one last fond look back at Cecil, his hand lingering on the door's frame. Then, he was gone, the door closing behind him.

Kain waited until he could no longer hear the soldier's retreating footsteps, then turned to Cecil. "You lied to the king," Kain said, in an equal mix of shock and admiration. "You would do that?"

"For Rosa," Cecil clarified, looking out the window. Kain wondered what had caught Cecil's eye, only spotting the faint outline of the daytime moons in the blue sky. Then, Cecil smiled and looked back to Kain. "And you."

Kain's heart picked up in rhythm, hammering hard against his ribs.

"Rosa must be allowed to follow her own ambition," Cecil said solemnly. "She should have as much control of her life as she can. If that means being an archer, despite how we worry about her being in combat, then we must help her in any way we can."

"She would be safer as a white mage," Kain said.

"She would," Cecil agreed easily. "But it's not up to us. We can only help hide her talent from the king and her mother. If either found out, then they might force her into it."

Kain opened his mouth to protest further, but a sudden yawn seized him. Cecil smiled and shook his head. "Go and get what sleep you can," Cecil said.

At the mention of sleep, Kain was hit with a wave of exhaustion, his adrenaline from the night and meeting with the king finally wearing off. He just needed sleep, he thought, then he could sit and think of a way to resolve the tangled mess between the three of them.

Somehow, Kain would put things back to how they used to be, and all would be right in their world.

Kain slept several hours, dead to the world and dreamless, until persistent knocking at the door finally roused him awake. Groaning with effort, he rolled out of the bed, stumbled to the door, and opened it to find Rosa. At first, she wore a serious expression, but it softened when she saw him.

"Oh, Kain," Rosa murmured. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," Kain muttered, sounding more resigned than sarcastic. He stepped back to let her in, and Rosa breezed past him. Today, she wore her hair in a thick braid down her back, with blue ribbons woven throughout. The ribbons had been a joint gift, but Cecil had picked them out, Kain remembered with a new wave of guilt.

"Come sit," Rosa said, standing behind the chair at his desk. Kain obeyed wordlessly, knowing this ritual leftover from their childhood. He sat and Rosa picked up a brush. With practiced fingers, she began combing through his hair, easing out the tangled strands.

"I saw Cecil," Rosa said conversationally, as she continued to brush. "He told me everything about the dark knight training. He said there should be no secrets between the three of us." She paused, her fingers still in his hair. "We must convince him to stop."

"I will try," Kain said, though he did not sound optimistic. He reached up to take her wrist in his, and she paused, brush still in hand. "We need to talk."

Rosa disentangled herself from him, rounding the chair to face him directly. She frowned slightly; her brow knit with concern. "What is it?"

Kain watched her for a careful moment, before drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, then saying, "I think we need to stop seeing each other… alone. For Cecil's sake."

Rosa looked surprised, then laughed nervously. "What? What do you mean? Be serious, Kain."

"I am!" Kain retorted, a bit more forcefully than he intended.

It seemed to have caught Rosa off guard as well, as she took a step backward. Her surprise sharpened into disbelief as she shook her head. "No. You don't mean that."

"I do mean it," Kain corrected her, softening his tone.

"Why?" Rosa asked, the single-world question sounding watery and fraught with the threat of tears.

"Because it will hurt him," Kain said, dropping his gaze to the floor, unable to bear the sight of her looking so disappointed. Then, he thought of the same look on Cecil's face and that was somehow more unbearable. Kain abruptly stood from the chair and took several steps back from her to put distance between them, as if that would help. "If he continues the dark knight training, his pain will only be magnified." Kain paused, letting the words sink in first before adding, "How can we do that to him?"

"How can you do this to me? To us?" Rosa asked instead. "Why are Cecil's feelings more important than ours?" When Kain did not answer, avoiding eye contact again as he stared at the floor, Rosa continued in a small voice, "Do you care about him more than you care about me?"

"Rosa, it's not that simple," Kain protested. "I want to do the least harm. Cecil has no one else but us. He needs us, and our friendship, to balance him out. We must be there for him as he learns to endure this."

"Unbelievable," Rosa muttered as she turned away from him. "You'd rather make yourself miserable than take any risk to upsetting things as they are. You'd rather go without than take a chance and be vulnerable and say what you really want." She started for the door, speaking as she passed by him. "Nothing ever stays the same, Kain. You will have to learn to adapt as they do."

"Rosa, wait-" Kain started toward her.

"No," Rosa interrupted him. She had traded her hurt for anger, her words tight through her clenched jaw. "Think about what you want, Kain, but don't wait too long. It may not be there for you once you've finally made up your mind."

"Please, Rosa, you have to understand-" Kain pleaded, but was cut off as she slammed the door behind her.

Kain looked at the closed door, full of a longing he did not understand.

Kain dressed himself, then found the castle steward in his office. Kain left a message, then went down to the kitchen, hoping to find something left over from the midday meal. Luckily, the cook had a soft spot for hungry cadets, and gladly fed Kain. He was sitting in the mess hall, finally clearing the last of the food from his previously heaping plate, when a guard entered, heading for Kain with a purpose in his step.

"His Majesty requires your presence," the guard announced, not asking but demanding.

Kain stood and followed the guard, through the castle and further into its interior, where the throne room was. It felt like intentionally venturing deeper into the den of a known predator, naively hoping to avoid their teeth and claws.

Kain was immediately admitted to the throne room, where once again, he found himself alone with the king. Odin sat on his throne, leaving far forward, his hands braced on his knees.

"You wanted to speak with me?" Odin asked, never one for formalities between soldiers.

"I've come to offer myself for dark knight training," Kain said, before he could talk himself out of it, "...If you release Cecil from it."

"You've come to bargain with me?" Odin asked with a raised eyebrow. "You are either very brave or very foolish."

"Sir," Kain pleaded. "Don't do this to Cecil."

"It is already done," Odin said without pity, "And it will not be undone."

"But sir-"

"I offered this to you first, because I thought you would be best at it," Odin raised his voice, not much, but there was a sense of careful control in each word. "With tragedy so early in your life, you know pain in a way that is unique. It has almost always been a part of you, growing as you do." He started to speak faster, his anger now bleeding through. "That pain, used right, could have been powerful in your hands! Your mother would have—" Odin abruptly stopped, then shook his head. "Never mind," Odin said curtly. "It does not matter anymore."

"Sir..." Kain tried to speak, but there were sudden tears standing still in his eyes, threatening to spill out. He blinked hard, trying to will the tears away, embarrassed and surprised by them. What did his mother have to do with any of this, he wondered.

Odin was unmoved by this show of emotion, his expression and tone remaining neutral. "You will one day be the Commander of the Dragoons. Cecil will rise, too, to where his talents take him. Together, you will lead Baron into a new dawn of prosperity. Is that not enough for you?"

Kain had no reply; he could envision Odin's ambition of he and Cecil, glorious in victory together, but Kain also saw the blood trailing behind Cecil, not just his enemies' but mostly his own. His tears were hot in his throat as he swallowed them down.

"Go, Kain," Odin commanded. "And know you are getting exactly what you and your father wanted."

Feeling defeated, Kain almost gave up, allowing events to play out as they seemed destined. Could he really do anything to change what might happen? Then he thought of Rosa, of her unprotected on the battlefield and knew that knowledge might unman him.

No, Kain thought as he made his way to the infirmary, this was for the best.

When he arrived, he got several curious looks from the white mages and their trainees; he was uncomfortable until he realized they were wondering how he was injured or what illness he suffered from.

"Oh, no," Kain said, "I'm all right." The white mages visibly relaxed, no longer poised to spring into action. He wondered how often someone who needed help wandered in, and judging by their speedy reaction, Kain guessed it was often. "I'm looking for Healer Joanna. Is she here?"

Joanna emerged from the back, having heard her name. "Kain?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Could we speak?" Kain asked, cautiously.

Joanna looked around at the mages with them, then gestured for him to follow. She led him further into the infirmary, through a long hallway of doors, before stopping at one. She opened the door and gestured, waiting for Kain to go first. He entered, walking into the small room, with only a bed and a wash basin inside. A private room for convalescing, Kain realized. He hoped most were empty.

Joanna followed and closed the door behind her, then turned to face him. She folded her arms over her chest, but instead of looking cross, as she usually did when regarding Kain, she wore a worried expression instead, faintly frowning. "What's wrong, Kain?" she asked quietly. "Did something happen to Rosa?"

"No," Kain said quickly, mad at himself for worrying Joanna needlessly. Joanna's concerned expression was a mirror of Rosa's, and Kain found himself unnerved by the resemblance. "Rosa is fine. And I..." he hesitated, suddenly unsure if he really wanted to do this. If Rosa were to ever find out, he doubted she'd ever forgive him. He nearly told Joanna, never mind, there was nothing to discuss, but then he remembered Odin's vision, of he and Cecil standing together, only now Rosa stood behind them, steeped in the blood they both left in their wake. The mental image made him shudder.

More determined now, Kain started again, "I want to keep her safe. I want what's best for her."

"So do I," Joanna agreed cautiously. "What do you have to tell me?"

"The King asked if any white mage tended to Cecil's injury last night, didn't he?" Kain asked, gauging her reaction. Her eyes widened just a bit and Kain knew he was right. "Do you know why he wanted to know?"

"Because Cecil's wound was self-inflicted with dark knight magic and difficult to treat," Joanna said distantly, not looking at Kain now. "Whoever did so is an accomplished healer." As she thought about this, Kain watched as she gradually realized, understanding unfolding across her face. "What are you trying to say, Kain?" she asked, her voice cautious but hopeful. "Did Rosa use complex healing magic? Did she Pray?"

We must help her in any way we can, Cecil urged from Kain's memory. Cecil hadn't meant like this, Kain knew, but Cecil didn't understand the risk Rosa posed, not just to herself, but to Kain's concentration in battle. It would be hard enough with Cecil beside him; his heart could not endure both Rosa and Cecil in potential danger.

No, Rosa would be safer this way, Kain told himself as he said, "Yes. She's been able to cast since she was a child. Seven or eight, I think. Small spells, at first, but she's been practicing on her own."

"Why does she hide it?" Joanna asked; she tried to hide her smile, but it tugged insistently on the corners of her mouth.

"She wants to be an archer," Kain explained, wondering why Rosa had never told her mother so. He would have told his father everything if Richard still lived. To follow in a parent's footsteps was another link in the family's legacy. "But it's safer and better for her to be off field with the white mages."

"White mages see combat," Joanna said, a little prickly.

"True," Kain admitted, but continued, "...but not as directly. Tell me, where would she be safer?"

"True," Joanna conceded, nodding as she said it. "Kain," she said, summoning his attention to her, making direct eye contact with him. Satisfied she has his full attention, Joanna spoke, "Thank you." She meant it, he realized, sensing sincerity in her green eyes; Rosa must have inherited her blue eye color from Roland, Kain thought absently.

"Will you tell her it was me?" Kain asked, feeling suddenly small, despite being taller than Joanna now.

Joanna considered it for a moment. Kain knew with this, Joanna could have what she wanted: to successfully alienate Rosa from Kain for good. Then, mercifully, Joanna shook her head. "You have done me a favor. I'll do the same for you." She paused; her mouth pressed into a thin, serious line. Kain wondered what she was thinking, feeling paralyzed in place by her heavy gaze. Finally, she spoke again, "But only this once. I still don't want you around my daughter."

She turned to go, opening the door.

"Joanna," Kain called out after her, feeling emboldened by using her given name. She hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at him. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Joanna took a deep breath in, to steady herself, then shook her head, "It is a complicated thing and speaking of it will not help. Know only this: your presence pokes at a wound that will never heal. If you have any love for Rosa and want to keep her safe, then you need to leave her alone."

Kain genuinely thought about it, how things might be different if he did not see Rosa again. But then he imagined Cecil's face, full of hurt and disappointment that the three of them could not be together as they always have been. He used that excuse as a shield for his selfish heart and its demands to keep Rosa near him.

"I cannot," Kain spoke and saw the instant dread in Joanna's eyes. "She mends a wound that will never heal," Kain said, echoing Joanna's words back at her.

Joanna said nothing, shutting the door in his face as she left, mirroring Rosa earlier that day.

For the next two days, Rosa was missing from the castle. Kain tried not to fret, but after lessons ended on the second day, Kain found he could wait no longer. Cecil had offered to go with Kain to Rosa's house, but Kain convinced him to stay, not to exclude Cecil, Kain had reassured him, but because it would be easier to sneak in if Kain went alone.

The real reason, of course, was because he needed to talk to Rosa privately, at least one more time.

Cecil had spotted Joanna in the infirmary about an hour prior, so there was a good chance she would still be there. Hoping this wasn't his unlucky day, Kain knocked lightly on Rosa's window. He saw the curtains flutter briefly, before Rosa poked between them to peer out. She disappeared quickly, and for a terrible moment, Kain was worried she would ignore him. But then Kain was relieved to see the window open.

In their brief time apart, Rosa had gotten somehow prettier, Kain's heart realized with a sick dismay. She wore her hair loose around her shoulders, looking like golden wheat rippling in the afternoon sun. He almost reached up, to run his fingers through it, recalling how soft it always was in his grasp. But just as his fingers flexed in memory, he caught himself, keeping his hands at his sides.

"What do you want, Kain?" Rosa asked, unamused, oblivious to her effect on him.

You, he had the impulse to say, but swallowed down and instead asked, "Where have you been?"

Rosa frowned. "Mother found out about my using white magic." It was the first time Kain had ever heard Rosa call Joanna anything other than Mama and that monumental change was unsettling. "She found the books in my room. I guess she must have suspected me when no one knew anything about Cecil's injury."

"But why are you not at the castle?" Kain asked.

"Because she and the king have commanded me to start training with the white mages, or else." Rosa leaned back from the window; Kain saw the stubborn set of her jaw. "I told them no."

"You said no to the king?" Kain asked, incredulously.

Rosa scoffed. "Of course. I told him I would be an archer." She made defying a king sound easy and Kain was in awe of her backbone. He wondered why he had ever doubted her resolve.

"You'll be nothing, if he expels you instead," Kain said, trying for logic. For many of the cadets, returning to civilian life was seen as a failure. He saw Rosa frown again, and continued, "And then you wouldn't be with us at all. Isn't it better as a white mage than nothing?"

"Would you even miss me, if I were gone?" Rosa asked instead, her voice small.

"Of course," Kain sighed as he answered, realizing how messy he had allowed their shared friendships to become. He reached up to the windowsill and took her hand in his. To his surprise, she allowed him. "I miss you already. Can we still be friends, despite what's happened?" Kain asked, steadfastly ignoring how his heart pounded once their skin touched.

Rosa looked at their entwined hands. "Friends," she repeated, sounding unsure.

"Come back to the castle," Kain pleaded. "Cecil will need us together." When she did not respond, still staring at their joined hands, he continued, "Please? If not for me, then for Cecil?"

Reluctantly, Rosa pulled her hand free from his grip. "For Cecil," she finally agreed. "He will need us."