"People still suffer, Wain, even here." Lord Miquella's gaze remained on the lights of the city beneath them. Owain thought he looked older in the moonlight, the sentinel could see Radagon's serious features in the prince.

He sighed, laying his hands atop the banister. As they oft did at night, his eyes lingered on the moon. "When I was a boy, the war with the giants had already spanned several decades. You see suffering now, my prince, but it is a pale shade of what was. Your queen mother works so very hard to spread the prosperity of gold to as many as she can, but not even she can prevent every hardship." The prince had seen beggars on their outing to the lower city earlier that day and it'd left him contemplative.

"I could." Owain looked at the prince in surprise. "I could create a world without suffering, without pain. Where compassion rules, where joy and peace are all that our people have ever known." The royal met Owain's gaze defiantly, it was moments like that that Miquella showed his true age. He was hardly forty, it was not unusual that he would be so sure of himself.

Owain smiled. "You are most intelligent, my prince; earnest and diligent, but wisdom can only be gained with time, my lord."

Lord Miquella frowned, small hands clenched at his side. "Then you would say that such pain is an immutable truth?"

Owain had not meant to upset his prince, perhaps he'd chosen his words poorly. He paused before replying. "No, only that such a world as the one you speak of is the fruit of labor long given. I laud your efforts, and encourage your dreams, but a ruler must be realistic." Even Queen Marika had yet to reach such a lofty ideal.

"Was the culling of the giants realistic? The destruction of The Stormlord and his people? The banishment of the nox? The decimation of the dragons? Mother professes peace, but only to those under the eaves of gold."

How was Owain to explain the horrors of war? The cost of stability? "Not all would see The Golden Order sweep the land."

"And that makes her conquest right?" The gold of his lord's eyes glinted harshly in the deepening dark. It was easy for Owain to see only the nobility of the order. He was its defense, never placed as the aggressor in the great wars. He thought of Ranni's pointed questions, so similar to Miquella's. Perhaps…perhaps he waved away the wars too readily. No, no his queen was ever noble!

The prince had taken to philosophical conversations of late. Owain wished Godwyn would sojourn in the capital more, Owain was not equipped with the intelligence to be the prodigy's equal in debate. "Perhaps my own views of justice have stolen needed nuance from you, my lord. I am not always right, the mind must guide what the heart can not parse." He usually left such heavy considerations to Ranni and his queen.

"Was it heart that destroyed our enemies so?" The prince said quietly.

He willed the rumination from his face, he could hardly let his prince see him question the Golden Order. "Whether or not her actions were right, our many foes would have wiped us from these lands between. Is it better to let our people die out entire, than to wage war? Is it not righteous to protect those that can not protect themselves?" Owain felt that he'd said the words in half reassurance to himself, instead of only unto the prince.

"I do not-" Miquella huffed, frustrated, "why must it all be so complicated, Wain?"

"Because life is complicated, my prince. Wisdom shall elucidate, give yourself time to grow, lord Miquella."

"To grow." Lord Miquella said bitterly. "Dreams are so oft sweeter than waking day." Owain cringed at his big mouth, he should have chosen a different word.

He lay a hand on his small charge, eyes drawn once more to the moon, "Let your righteous dreams continue to inspire your noble countenance, my lord." Miquella would be called upon to guide long after Owain had retired to Caria.

"When I am a god, my consort shall lead by heart." The man shook off his hand gently before turning to go once more inside. Owain signaled to Wolfram to follow the prince. The commander needed a moment to himself. Something in the way his lord Miquella had said 'when' he was a god…it unsettled him.

Owain blinked himself once more to the present. What portends did that memory bring? Ranni, having noticed his senses returned, begged clarification from her brother. "Promised Consort?" Owain almost did not wish to know.

Radahn's voice was colored by clear remorse."I do not- my mind has not returned to me in full. If only I- Caelid would not-" He voice broke, his tortured gaze pleading. Owain reached out a hand in camaraderie, he knew too well the burden of unreturned memories, the agony of not knowing. The gargantuan man slumped once more in his chair.

"We will discover the truth of it, brother. Be not afeard." Owain studied the table. What did his Lady Melania's words mean? How could Miquella demand she wage such horrific war only to deliver a message? This news was most disquieting. Too much death had been wrought, regardless of a promised vow, Owain would have explanations in full from the twins, once he found them.

Tanya tended to her lord worriedly. She did not know what he had discussed with the princess and her consort, but the poor man had drunk himself into a stupor. Lady Tricia's perfumers had offered their assistance, but she'd insisted on caring for Radahn herself. He was not sick in body really, only in heart. As she dabbed at his brow gently with a damp cloth, she lamented all her lost time. She should have gone to Caelid before- no, she shook her head. If she'd abandoned Her Majesty and Lord Moongrum during the shattering, she never would have forgiven herself. Tanya was a proud knight of Caria, as her mother Moonrithyll before her.

Alas, she'd been too late. Tanya could not stand to see her queen in the throes of her madness, she could not bear to see the man she'd loved since girlhood reduced to a ravenous beast. She'd been too late to stop either. The knight had spent most of the years since the shattering wars at Lady Miriam's side. The preceptor, now governess, had been kind and patient. Their mutual grief slightly softened in the monotony of their duties.

When word had first spread of Lord Owain's return, Tanya had hardly dared to hope. Surely with the arrival of Caria's lost prince-consort, things would begin to heal. Even still, Tanya had chosen not to go forth to the manor, she had thought he would rebuke her. Leaving the queen's side was one of her greatest shames, but she had not Lord Moongrum's will. Then, word had come to them of Princess Ranni's revival, and Tanya could not help herself. She had made all haste to her lady's side.

These last few seasons, these hard fought days of restoration; they had been her most joyous in nigh a century. Lady Ranni and Lord Owain had only greeted her with kindness, had made no mention of Tanya's shirked duty. She'd been reunited with her lord Moongrum, with stalwart Linde! Caria was being rebuilt, the lands resewn, Limgrave and Liurnia as well. With the return of Caria's sun, came the waxing of her moons.

Her noble queen held her former nature, powerful and cunning and kind. Her cherished princess breathed in a body her own once more! The people sang as they worked, they laughed, she watched the downtrodden masses that had long given up hope begin to live again, to feel. Tanya had seen her own body remember its curves, her skin recall the color of warmth.

Through it all, the knight had held out one fervent, desperate hope. That her beloved Radahn might be healed and brought home to Caria. When Lord Owain had begun the Caelid campaign, every day without a report was an age. Her Majesty had been a sturdy pillar for the knight to cling to, never once doubting that the burnished one would bring his brother home. Tanya had struggled to share that same optimism. She knew Lord Owain was of a skill and power that few in the lands between could ever hope to match, but they had not seen Radahn. They had not witnessed the true horror of it. She, of course, had maintained her silence; so as not to dash their hopes.

When Her Majesty had stormed through the main courtyard with the bodies of her sons behind her, Tanya had almost fainted from shock. Sweet Radahn's wounds were so grievous, the rot had taken such a toll upon him. Lord Owain had shone with the intensity of a falling star! She'd thought the sight of the gruesome rite to free Radahn from the rot might stop her heart full still. Never before had she felt such helpless despair. She was eternally grateful for her queen's stalwart will and brilliant mind.

Her lord's eyes cracked open as she was almost done brushing his hair free of tangles. "Tanya?" His voice was a croaking mess. She paused in her work, smiling at him. "I thank thee, my knight." He whispered. As his massive hand alighted on her shoulder in a reassuring squeeze, Tanya struggled not to cry. Her lord was returned.

His princess Melina looked healthier than when last he'd seen her. Her skin had pinked, the shadows behind her eyes seemed somewhat abated. She appeared well adjusted to having gained back half her sight. Owain knelt before her, the many rows of his watching sentinels doing so as well. "I greet you with joy, my lady."

The princess smiled softly, "And I you, Wain." he rose, surprised as she rushed to embrace him. He laughed at her antics, she'd always been one for physical affection.

The rest of her traveling companions greeted him in turn, Lady Lansseax even smiled as she passed, though it fell from her face at the sight of Ranni. Owain kept a close eye on Vargrum and Therolina, he would see the truth of their devotion before this journey was done.

Within a few hours, the grand convoy was ready to depart. The royals had all been safely secured in carriages. Each adorned in the shields of his fallen sentinels and pulled by their bereft steeds. Any that attempted to waylay them on the road would fall upon the harshest of times. Owain felt rather bad for Ranni, that she must ride a carriage the whole way to her brother's domain, but not so bad that he would risk her in the open air.

The path north left him feeling more optimistic by the day. He'd yet to venture so far personally, and had not taken his men's reports of reviving prosperity to heart. The lands were peaceful, the towns and cities being rebuilt, the fields in full growth. It was enough to make him almost indolent. He should not have been surprised that their camp was assailed one evening mere days from the lift of Dectus.

Owain was up and out of his tent by the time of the second warning horn, a group of ten sentinels moving quickly to all sides of the large canopy. He could hear his wife calling out to him sleepily. "Sentinels!" He bellowed, "We are assailed, protect the royals!"

Mother Rennala poked her head out of her own tent, swamped by sentinels and Carian knights both, as he sprinted by. "Wain! Stay!" He skidded to a halt in confusion. A massive spell of light lit the camp entire, blinding he and their foes both. After a moment's recovery, he could see it was a large company of reformed Cuckoos. Foul traitors! Could they not stay dead?

He raised his spear, sheathing it in golden light, "Sent-" An array of hundreds of spectral glintblades appeared in a blue flash above the heads of the cuckoos. Ah, he almost forgotten, the queen Rennala hated being woken from sleep. He and his sentinels stood in slack jawed awe as the scores of cuckoos were mercilessly cut to ribbons, the ghastly screams echoed out into the night for only a few moments before all was deathly quiet. He turned to Rennala in amazement.

"Good night, child." She groused, before closing the flap of her tent.

Owain was extra quiet as he issued orders to ensure there were no survivors. Ranni did not even open her eyes at his entrance later, only raising the thick blanket they shared and flinging a leg over him as he settled beside her. Her hand slapped lightly over his mouth as he chuckled.

It was a few days travel more when at last they had reached Dectus! The garrison at the gate clambered over themselves to form up for inspection, but Owain had not the mind for it, so he sent Oswald in his place. No, he was too overwhelmed by the many memories that robbed his senses. "Wain?" Came Ranni's soft voice at his side, he shook his head, unable to speak. He focused on his breathing, eyes trying to find the horizon but instead finding the grand statues that guarded the titanic causeway. He gazed up at the sculptures mournfully, unsurprised when a memory took him.

"Really Wain, thou must stop fidgeting. Thou'rt making the sculptor nervous!" Godwyn taunted at him from his place reclined on a low stone. The demi-god threw another pebble at his helm, laughing uproariously at the pinging noise.

Owain tried his best to remain in the position the portly artist had requested, but Osgalath was being exceptionally surly that day. " Why don't you take my place then, heckler. If you are so learned in the ways of posing."

"Oh no, Wain, thou'rt much prettier than I. I couldst never rob the future generations of the chance to gaze upon thy beauty."

The sentinel rolled his eyes. "I am entirely hidden by my armor, I am sure they will not even know it is me."

Godwyn's eyes glittered mischievously. "Ah, but I will spread the tale, worry not. Our people will journey from far and wide to see this new gate and the statues of the mighty burnished one that yet guard it! So sit still, brute!" He threw another pebble. Owain sighed, he should have made Reginald do this.

He greeted the present day with silence. This grief only seemed to worsen the more he recollected of himself. "Good," he said gently to Ranni's worried expression.

He'd had the original medallion of Dectus returned to the lift some months ago, and trade between the two conjoined regions had steadily returned with it. Owain himself did not need the medallion to operate the lift, his spear served the same purpose, but he was happy to not have to be a ferryman. It took their procession most of the day to reconvene in Altus due to their number. Owain spent most of the time waiting in the company of Carian Royals, with Melina joining them as well. The princess had gained much cheer during her sojourn with her elder sister Nephelli.

She called him for a walk as the last of his sentinels journeyed up the lift. "How might I be of service, my lady?"

Melina pursed her lips, golden eyes cast down. "Have you given any thought to bringing Messmer home, Wain? He yet lingers in the shadow cursed lands."

Owain frowned, that was matter he had been considering. Only, he was unsure of how to reach his prince without his queen's magic. "Yes, my lady. I-" He gasped, once more being torn to the past.

"You wished to see me, my lady?" His queen glanced up from her desk; which was, as usual, piled high with documents.

"Yes, Wain. How goest the preparations?"

Owain smiled, this coming campaign of freely offered aid was one he could readily get behind. He was happy to see the queen was again her altruistic self, giving forth the grace of their order so freely. "Many of my best knights of the high houses have already committed themselves to my lord Messmer's righteous cause. I've set Wolfram on forming them into their own knightage."

"And the hornsent?" Her voice was edged with a steel he did not understand. Perhaps whatever paperwork she was mulling over was irritating her.

"They were quite reluctant at first to welcome us, though I am unsure why. Godwyn aided greatly in the negotiations. They will now accept our aid and support wholeheartedly. I am told there are already plans to erect many statues in your honor." He chuckled. His correspondence with Godwyn had left both of them feeling rather confused as to the guardedness of these hornsent. They were a people blessed by the crucible, surely they would see Marika, one who had wedded a lord of such ancient magic, and mothered two powerful sons possessed of it, as an easy ally. The queen regarded him oddly for a moment before nodding; signing off on some new request.

"What of Messmer?"

Owain smiled once more, he was quite proud of his young lord. "He stands resolved to offer cooperation with the kindness and compassion you have taught him, my lady. This will be a wonderful first outing as prince for him." The queen would not meet his eyes for some reason.

"What of his training? Thou wilt not…he will not have thy protection, Wain. Hast thou prepared him properly?" He held back the downturning of his lips as his queen accidentally snapped the quill she'd been using.

"I have nothing left to teach him, my queen. He has proven himself a fierce warrior." Owain shrugged out the stiffness of his shoulders, what was this odd tension? "Besides, I send with him Adelhelm and Otmar, along with their two companies. Even if I am not there, my sentinels shall offer him the protection I can not."

"Then he shalt be safe." His queen murmured. She finally regarded him in full, laying her hands flat upon her great desk. "Mine thanks, commander. Thy preparations are appreciated. Thou canst leave the rest to Ofnir, trouble not thy mind with such minutiae." The muscles of her lithe neck twitched as if in anger.

There was something here he was not seeing, but he could divine what it was. "Do you suspect foul play from the hornsent, my queen? If they hold some ill will towards you, I would send forth many more sentinels. Just as with the twins, we could easily spare some fifty thousand-"

"No!" She paused. "No, Wain. What thou hast committed is force enough already. It would be folly to send so many sentinels on this errand of…peace." Once more, she would not meet his eyes. "Messmer will be safe, I need not worry."

Owain paused, why did this conversation feel so strange? "Yes, my lady. It is as you say." He settled on, tone gentle. Perhaps she was only nervous to send out her son on his first real mission as prince. It reminded him of how fretful she would become when the eldest twins had first begun regularly mingling with the public. He smiled, Messmer would be fine, just as the princes had been.

Melina had lain a small hand upon his arm. "Ah, forgive me, little one. I- ever do my memories besiege me." He smiled.

"I had hoped it would ease with time." She said softly.

"As had I." he chuckled. "By the by, we will bring your lord brother home, princess, be not afeard. I need only-" he knee buckled. No, please, not again.

The many watching nobles gasped in unison, exclaiming in shock as Owain slammed to his knees. His brow thudded into the stone of the throne pavilion with a sharp crack, his fingers splayed wide upon the carved stone floor. "Great queen, I beg you! Pray, let not your son stay set upon this crusade of death. I would go forth to collect him home, I would take up this…cause in his stead; that he might be spared such horror, that he might be guided once more into the light of your grace!" Owain's voice was hoarse with passion, but this was not a matter he could remain silent on. Young Lord Messmer was too pure of heart and purpose. Owain had no idea why the prince had suddenly decided to wage this senseless slaughter against the hornsent; why he had decided to purge them all so very cruelly.

He blacked out for a moment at the wave of horrifying mana that blew forth from the silent queen's throne, steadying himself with shaking arms. "Leave us." She spoke it quietly, but with such venom that he could hear the watching nobles scattering faster than they ever would otherwise. "Look upon me, Lord Commander."

Owain did as he was bid, wiping away the blood that flowed into his eyes from the wound he'd inadvertently given himself in his frantic bow. Her eyes were…manic. Her face held a rising, creeping, frenzy. His throat dried. "My queen."

"Thy place is at my side, Owain. Always. This is immutable fact. Thou'rt shield of the crown, not sword. Mine protector, not the instrument of my wrath. And that is what the war shalt be, Owain, my wrath. Mine vengeance, my fury! There is no place for thee in so dark a deed. Not thee, not mine burnished one."

"Prince Messmer is–"

"Doing as he is bid, Owain, as shouldst thou. I'll hearest no more of thee going forth in his place."

"I do not understand, my lady! I thought this to be a task of aid! I thought we brought prosperity unto the hornsent, not…not this ceaseless fire!" Owain could not understand why things had turned so very dark! Adelhelm's last report, finally delivered to him after too long a silence, was truly horrific, steadfast Otmar had even requested urgent reassignment! He did not lower his gaze, so earnest was his plea.

She did not speak for a long while, only the whispers of falling leaves stirred the air. "It seems I am always begging thy forgiveness, Wain." Queen Marika's voice was suddenly much softened.

"Please, my queen, why must the prince put them to the flame?" He asked, voice scratchy. His lady rose from her throne, walking to him, crouching to offer him a hand up. His hand trembled in her gentle grasp.

His queen removed her ever present armlets from her wrists. Owain stared in horrified surprise. How had he never seen these marks? An illusory spell? "These wounds art the gift of a foul whip. One heldest in the hand of a hornsent. A hornsent who's people applauded his actions to a one."

Owain scowled down at the ghastly marks, he traced the scars with hesitant fingers. Why did they look like teeth marks? "How could they-" his voice broke with his emotion, sudden tears sprang forth to fall upon the mangled scars. "You were wh-whipped, my lady?"

"They believed my people to have special properties, a cohesion well suited for their twisted sainthood. They forced us into-" Her voice hitched. "Into jars, Wain. They sought the spiraled sky, they craved divinity." The queen's expression darkened. "They forgot my face."

This news was most revolting. Owain would go forth with his host entire. He would see these horrid people smote low, that his queen need never think of them again! "Jars?" He growled out a sigh. "I will rally the sentinels, let me-" Her hand braced against his chest as she leaned forward, face marred by wild anger.

"I didst not forget them, Owain; nor forgive. Never I! This culling, this holocaust, it is my satisfaction. It is mine retribution, the deliverance of vengeance for my tortured people."

A holocaust? Surely not all of them needed to die. Surely- he beheld the heartbreak on his queen's face. No; no he was a fool, he could see that now. If they had subjected his queen and her people to such horrific agony, if they had tortured her and her people thusly; the hornsent needed to be granted swift and total defeat. Only, why must it be his sweet prince to hold the spear? Owain would see these hornsent torturers punished, any that partook in this terrible crime against his queen and her people. The innocent, he would see protected. Though they would learn well, their folly. "Why send my lord Messmer? Let me bring the prince home, let me see to this punishment. Why-"

"Because they must burn, Wain! They must suffer! To face thee, to face the sentinels, they wouldst be granted chivalric demise, quick ends. Deaths that couldst be seen as glorious, I do not wish them any glory! No martyrs wilt they find among the slain. I wish unto them only suffering and disgrace! Only heartbreak at this supposed betrayal!" She laughed bitterly. "True and terrible humiliation at the hands of the son of their former slave! To gaze upon the might and warmth of gold in their last moments is still too gentle. Thou wouldst not eradicate them, Owain. No; no my son wilt do as he is bid. He possesses his mother's ruthlessness, even if thou dost not see it."

He bowed his head, this sorrow was such an awful weight. Blood dripped from his clenched fist, what could he say? "Marika…" In his anguish, he'd slipped. He scolded himself for naming her without proper honorifics.

"Dost thou think me callous, Wain?" Her hand fell away.

His eyes found hers, he was unable to tear himself from the frantic misery he found there. "My queen, I only…I still do not understand."

"Thou dost not understand vengeance? Hatred?" The fury of a few moments before had fallen away to reveal vulnerable frailty, a woman that yearned for understanding.

"You are kind, my lady."

She frowned. "I am not. I am callus, I am cruel. Fearful, controlling, bitter, and violent." The queen finally looked away.

Owain shook his head, sight blurry. "Pray, my queen, do not speak thusly. I have seen your kindness, your generosity! I have seen your forgiveness, your bravery and your love! My eyes have born witness, that my heart might know truth!"

"Thou hast seen small facets of a larger gem, one soaked in the blood of countless thousands. Innocents and guilty alike have borne the full yoke of mine ambitions."

He knew he was scowling but he could not keep the tumult of his heart from his face. "Ruling is…difficult choices must be made, but I know you ever pursue righteous ends and merciful means, my lady." His voice was a hoarse cry, strained in its passion.

Her face contorted in anguish, mouth opened to speak but no words came forth. Her armlets floated once more to her wrists, and slender fingers squeezed his shoulder. "It is by mine own design that thou seest me thusly." She sighed quietly, wiping his tears with a curled knuckle. "I am honored by thine faith in me, my shield, despite my wicked heart.

"I know these hornsent wronged you greatly, my queen. Still, I beg you reconsider. Such wholesale death is…it is ignoble."

"The way has just been shut, Owain. The realm sealed that those...that the hornsent have no chance of escape." The queen hesitated, breathing calmly now. "I should have taken counsel with thee, mine compass, before my wrath overtook me. I will think upon this matter, Wain. Go, I need…I must think."

He returned with a rasping breath. His memories were growing more potent, this was most disconcerting. "-band?" Ranni's face swam into view. He was still on a knee, had Melina called to her sister?

"Re-respite, wife. We will repose at the upper garrison tonight." This day had brought too much pain. Melina watched him knowingly, face shadowed. Alas, she'd only wished a simple answer from him and he'd nigh collapsed. These new memories refocused his need to bring the prince home. He hoped that Rykard would not be too difficult to see to, he could not dawdle.