“…Are you sure you won’t come to Trazad?” Seth asked, standing at the base of a landing-spire. He looked up at his father’s tired face, “Prince Iresha’s even offered to bring you there on the Sargonian flagship.”

  “There’s a lot of work to be done here, kiddo.” Lequerion answered, and pulled his boy into a hug, “But have fun for me while you’re there. It’ll be the first time the Dawn of Ages has been hosted in Sargon. I’m sure it’ll be quite the party.”

  “…Is it weird that I wish you guys weren’t trying so hard to reform the team already?” The teen said, and held a little while longer before he finally let go. Lequerion kept his hands on Seth’s shoulders, and Seth looked up with a worried glance, “The memorial literally just happened…let them rest a minute before you replace them…”

  “It’ll take weeks to put a group together.” The elder Rydell explained, and pat one arm before releasing, “Every squad will find itself replaced over time. Of all the people who flew with me while I was Captain, only Jense and Corbin are still here.”

  Seth just pointed at his own face, “Dad, my eyes are still swollen from how upset I’ve been that anything happened in the first place. Taking Iresha to the V.R. café was the first time I felt somewhat normal in days.”

  “That’s great. You should do more of that, then.”

  “Dad! I don’t want to get over them so fast!” The teen protested, only for Lequerion to clasp him by his head and turn him around to face the spire, “Dad!”

  “You’re too young to grieve so much.” The elder countered, “I know you spent a chunk of time aboard the Aegis, but the Fafnir were still soldiers, and they died doing their duty. If you want to feel any kind of way about them, then have pride for their skills and accomplishments. In spite of how bad this loss was, it was the first loss the Fafnir have experienced in an extremely long time. It’s a testament to their training and dedication. There was no dishonor in falling to something as powerful as that Warp Magi turned out to be…and in the end, the Fafnir still won the day. We still have a nearly-full Wing Team altogether, so it wasn’t a complete wash.”

  Seth could only feel guilty, “Soldiers or not, they were still people with families… We were family…”

  “Then hold your head high and prove how strong we are. We will rebuild. Don’t wallow; the others aren’t.” Lequerion advised, and glanced over to the young Prince. He gave a subtle head-bow, “If he mopes too much, smack him. You have my consent.”

  “Dad!”

  The older teen returned the head-bob with one of his own, “With pleasure.”

  “Iresha!”

  “What? He said to.”

  “I’m a Knight of the First Wing of the Luminary Council! You can’t smack me!”

  And yet, he did, right across the top of that pale-blonde head. Iresha smirked, “Being a Prince never stopped anyone from walloping me. You can always ask Ren how she managed.”

  Lequerion huffed a laugh as he went to give some parting words to J’ard, and Iresha led Seth over to the spire’s entry-hall.

  “Your dad’s probably right.” The Prince continued as they went through those gilded doors.

  “…I’d feel like I’m disrespecting them by moving on so fast though.” Seth complained, “It’s not like it was some war of attrition that they lost after a long and arduous campaign. They were wiped out like they were nothing. Half of them never even had a chance to fight before they were taken out, and I…I’ve got a short list people I’m even allowed to talk to about it.”

  “I’m not on that list, am I?”

  “Probably not…”

  “Well, then don’t get yourself into trouble on my account. I get what you’re saying.” Iresha noted, and let go of his friend’s shoulders to walk alongside him instead, “When my mom died, the fact of it was hard enough, but knowing I was the one who made it happen made me feel like I had no right to mourn her. You’re not responsible for what happened to the Fafnir though…so just be grateful for those who came back, and give yourself permission to go back to your life. Feeling bad forever won’t lift anyone up…and it won’t do anything but drag you down.”

  “…I hate it when people make sense while I’m in my feelings.”

  .

  The sun dipped low on the horizon as two Fafnir crossed through the widest section of the mountain range between Sargon and Kitez, leading into the far northeastern part of the Exclusion Zone. They’d turned off their nanotech a while ago already, and they flew without the illumination of their characteristic wings, making it easier to both ‘sneak into’ Kitez without their notice, and also avoid being traced by anyone while they were there.

  There were three known encampments in the area, and the pair surveyed two before Ren landed on a high tree and pulled her helmet off. Furion noticed and went back, “What’s the matter?” He asked; they were far enough away from any living thing that only the woods knew they were speaking.

  “We’re not just going to be able to find a wanted criminal because it would be convenient for us. They’re on a bounty list because no one can find them.” She argued, white hair exposed to the cold, waning light, “The Exclusion Zone is bigger than some countries, all on its own. We’ll be lucky to find any afflicted people, never mind a specific one.”

  “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.” Furion countered, “Anyone we do find is bound to know where they’re congregating.”

  “We can’t just snatch-up a random person because they’re afflicted!” Ren argued, and gestured back the way they’d come, “And just because they’re here doesn’t mean they deserve to have us fuck up their night, either.”

  “What, so you just want to go back, after spending hours getting here?”

  “Yes! This is insane!” She threw her arms out to the side and yelled as loud as she could, “We’re so far away from the nearest living human being that I can scream and no one will ever hear me!”

  Furion could only look on at her and shake his head, “I’m not just going to quit because you think it’s hopeless. Besides, as I’ve said before, I have to consider that every doubt isn’t actually yours. I just hear Scyrexian’s words in your voice. The Ren I know would never throw in the towel like th-”

  “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Furion Rydell.”

  He glowered slightly, “Why not?”

  “Because I can, in fact, still have my own thoughts and opinions. It’s not like Scyrexian is whispering in my ear or anything.” She argued, and held her helmet in front of herself, “And even if it did, I’ve told it to screw-off before! And I’m telling you right now that this hunt is pointless! We’re never going to find one specific criminal out here.”

  “Okay, so you’re saying everything that’s happened since the massacre was completely you.”

  “I’m saying I’m completely in control of my faculties; you said it yourself that my eyes went black when that changed. If I’m saying this mission is doomed from the start, then it’s because I actually think so.”

  Furion narrowed his gaze, “Then having sex with Lugios for a whole day was your idea.”

  Ren’s eyes widened briefly, “…You’ve got a lot of nerve drawing that comparison. I’ve been saying this whole time that Scyrexian amplifies beliefs that are already there…it doesn’t construct new ideas in my head from whole-cloth. I joined the Fafnir Knights because of Gabriel; I had a little fangirl crush on him before I ever even met you! After spending all that time in the get-away car with us, Scyrexian could probably tell I had some kind of connection to him, which would explain the whole reason it wanted me and not Seth.”

  “Do you want to get the damn thing out or not?”

  “Of course I do!”

  “Then we’re wasting time standing here arguing about it.” The Captain countered, and put his helmet back on as he stepped off the high branch.

  Ren could feel the anger building in her gut. She took a moment and closed her eyes, taking in a few calming breaths, “…It’s amplifying…it’s amplifying… I’m not going to let myself get goaded into a fight… I know he’s trying to help… He has every right to be upset at what I did…” She chanted to herself, and finally put her own helmet back on as well.

  .

  The Sargonian flagship was not a speedy vessel, so leaving Agartha in late afternoon meant it would be arriving in Trazad just after breakfast the following morning. With such a royal spread on-hand, Seth could hardly resist playing into it, and made a caricature of himself as a Prince in his own right as Iresha watched him with morbid amusement.

  “That’s absolutely not what I sound like.”

  “Hum hum, I’m the Prince.” Seth taunted, pinky-finger stretched far where he held the dainty little coffee-cup – and the saucer beneath it, “Fetch me some gold-leaf to sprinkle on top of this cappuccino.”

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  Sip.

  “Unbelievable.” Iresha shook his head and slouched in his seat, “You don’t actually think I’m like that, do you?”

  “Oh, at first you absolutely were.” Seth tormented, and finally went back to his normal affect, “You’ve mellowed-out a lot since then though.”

  “Hmph…another Gabriel Lugios Special, I guess.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far.” Seth set the cup down to go back to the egg-toast he’d half-eaten, “Mr. Gabriel wanted there to be a bridge between Sargon and the Council. His intent wasn’t to change you. At least, that’s not how he phrased it when he posed the idea to me, at any rate.”

  Iresha looked off at nothing in particular, “…Do you think I’ll even be Emperor if my father joins the Accord?”

  “What do you mean?” Seth wondered, and wiped the crumbs off his face with a cloth napkin, “Why wouldn’t you be?”

  “Every country that joins the Accord becomes part of a union…individual leadership is exchanged for the collective. Everyone seems to have a say in what everyone else does, with the Eidolon pulling the strings from the very top. The concept of Empire goes out the window there.”

  “I mean…there may be some truth to that, but everyone seems to be pretty content with the way things are.” The younger teen noted, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a country being forced to change how it operates though. There’s just an agreement that they won’t make unilateral decisions.”

  “But if my father joined the Accord, then in all likelihood, he’d be the last Emperor of Sargon. We’d be expected to have elections after that or something.”

  “Do you want to be Emperor?”

  Iresha looked at his upside-down reflection in a spoon, “…I guess so. I wouldn’t know what I’d do otherwise. I’ve been preparing for it my whole life. Who am I, if I don’t play that role?”

  “I doubt Mr. Gabriel or Lord Xanarken would ask that you give that up.” Seth shrugged, and took another bite, “Maybe they’d ask that when you have kids, you raise them up on the expectation that they wouldn’t automatically be the next in line to lead…but the Fourth wouldn’t steal your birthright straight out of your hands.”

  “I think the worry about it is a big part of why my father won’t pull that trigger.” The Prince continued, and pushed his chair back from the table so he could cross his right leg over the opposite knee, and idly played with the spoon between his fingers, “Maybe he plans on leaving the decision to me, after I succeed him.”

  “Is he going to step down or something?”

  “I don’t know about that, but…I get the distinct impression he’s starting to feel the pressure.”

  “Why’s that?”

  The ship parked alongside the palace’ private dock, and as the two stepped out onto that long connecting pathway, they saw 1.5 Eidolon standing on the veranda waiting for them, alongside the usual contingent of Sargonian guards and attendants, “…Cuz of that.”

  “Oh.”

  Iresha gave a quiet sigh, “They definitely aren’t subtle. My father opened that door and it’s just been a deluge ever since.”

  “How come he had to call the Council though? Doesn’t Sargon have its own afflicted specialists?”

  “I could never hope to explain why, but…Sargon has a surprising lack of Limitless users.” The Prince explained, and started that long walk across the bridge, “So few, in fact, that if there are any specialists here…my father didn’t know who any of them were, so in a pinch, he had no one else to reach out to. Kitez seems to have the lion’s share of such things, but they have a dramatically different way of handling them.”

  “…Dare I ask?”

  “Camps.”

  “Camps!?”

  “More like summer camps than internment camps… Maybe I used the wrong word. Retreats? Communes…?”

  “If camp was the first thing you thought of then they’re definitely the kind of places that have walls built to keep people in.”

  “They’re not bad camps, per se, but like… If hospitals are for the sick and injured, and prisons are for violent criminals…then these secured compounds are for the afflicted, to let them live their lives safely, but…apart from the rest of the population. They can still get on Kitez’s net-service; it’s always just sounded like they’re treated like a mini-nation unto themselves. Granted, I’ve only heard about them, but I’m told they’re nice.”

  “…But the people can’t leave.” Seth grumbled, “I wonder if the Council knows?”

  “I’d be surprised if they didn’t.”

  “I think it’s barbaric.” Seth crossed his arms, looking rather sour all of a sudden.

  Rylen held his head high as he watched his prized pupil get closer along the catwalk, but before the two teenagers could get into ear-shot, he turned to where he knew Gabriel was approaching, “So the Duchess agreed to that talk with the Emperor.”

  The Vice Eidolon nodded, and paused at the First’s side, “Seems so.”

  “Has she made her demands known yet? Surely she won’t send the Duke here for free.”

  Gabriel shook his head, “If she has, no one’s told me what they are. As far as I’m aware, that’s still to be discussed. Iresha was just glad for the fact that Far’nah was willing to talk to him at all.”

  Rylen turned slightly to look at the man, “These negotiations are happening behind our back, and we can’t get a word in edgewise about the Tuonela.”

  “…Having Mardu in Sargon will make dealing with the Duchess much easier.” Gabriel surmised, “But I’m worried that Far’nah is only agreeing to this meeting as a taunt. Suggesting she send her husband away is a massive ask, and Sargon has very little to offer in return. She’d be a fool to send him here without some kind of truly equal exchange. This may be a ploy to make Iresha look stupid or na?ve…or unreasonable.”

  “And suppose she gets her unreasonably equal exchange. What then? How does that get us any closer to solving the Kitez problem?” Rylen asked impatiently, “You and Xanarken are letting this thing get beyond control.”

  “…You told me once how you would’ve dealt with the Duchess if you were there when I tried to deal with her myself. What would you do in this situation?”

  Rylen was a bit taken aback, “…You actually want to know?”

  “No sass, no sarcasm…just straight-talk. What would you do?”

  The First looked around, checking for how close every set of ears was. Iresha and Seth were barely halfway up the ramp, and hadn’t even arrived at the edge of the cliff yet. He turned those blazing orange eyes back to the Vice, and spoke quietly, “I would send a small team of Inquisitors to Oceanside, probably by way of the water. The Inquisitors know how to board and operate colony-ships, so their primary directive would be to commandeer the Tuonela and pilot it away from the city. The Fafnir, meanwhile, would secure a route for special ground-forces to infiltrate the palace, take the Duchess and Conclave into custody, and bring them out of Kitez. I’d then install a Luminary governor, bring Kitez immediately into the Hadiran Accord, use that as leverage to bring Sargon in at the end. World peace, achieved, at long last.”

  Gabriel could only stare, brows raised, “…We can’t just depose governments and kidnap world-leaders because we disagree with them.”

  “And that’s why this is taking so long, because we absolutely could, and you know it.”

  Iresha and Seth were cresting over the terrace walls by that point, and Gabriel could only shake his head, “…Maybe you’re right about the Tuonela at least. We should talk later about it. That’s our ship.”

  Rylen was flummoxed, and reached to grab Gabriel’s face, using his thumbs to open the man’s eyes wider and check for a fever, “…Are you okay? Are you…actually willing to go through with my plan?”

  The Vice swatted him away, “It’s not a bad idea. You could do it without bloodshed, right?”

  The First smiled awkwardly, “Mmmmmaybe.”

  “…I guess that’s good enough.”

  “I would support your position as Vice Eidolon with my whole chest if you agree to go through with it.”

  “…Talk about a carrot on a stick.”

  “You are surprisingly clear-headed about Kitez, and in the literal days since you got this promotion, you’ve done more to give me hope that the end is in sight than Xanarken has since he brought you here.”

  Gabriel just lifted his hands defensively, “I don’t want to get between you two. If you want to thank me for my approach to Kitez, then by default you would have to thank Xanarken, too, since it was his idea to put me in charge. He did so knowing I’d probably be willing to listen to you.”

  “Lord Rylen! Mr. Gabriel!” Seth came hopping down the rest of the ramp, and gave a quick salute, though Rylen waved him down from it.

  “At ease; you’re my student, not my subordinate.” The First reminded, “The honorific is plenty. How was the trip?”

  “Relaxing!” The teen answered easily, “Prince Iresha showed me the coolest trick with his affliction; he can make it so his fire doesn’t burn! He thinks there’s a component to the power used by the afflicted that makes it behave based on the expectation of the user, rather than some actual arbitrary definition of their gift. I have so much I want to test now.”

  “That’s great.”

  Seth leaned around the First to gape at the Vice, “It could mean a lot for your abilities, too, Mr. Gabriel! You think you can cut through stuff, but what if you can do so much more?”

  Gabriel just gave a half-assed but well-meant smile, “I’m sure I won’t need to know. After tomorrow night, there won’t be any occasion for using it.”

  “But the possibilities! There’s so much to learn.”

  The Vice continued that smile, but then shook his head, and gestured into the palace, where the Emperor had appeared quite some time ago, “There are other things to think about for now.” How gave a somewhat-respectable head-bow to the Prince, “Your Royal Highness. Welcome home.” Iresha offered a nod in acknowledgement, but then skipped by and rushed towards his father and the entourage. Gabriel held an arm out to prevent Seth from following after, and the teen looked on quizzically. Gabriel looked back at him quietly, “Can I have a minute alone?”

  Seth glanced at the First, but Rylen had no objections, “My business here is done. Enjoy the festivities. I’m sure I’ll see you again before too long.” The Eidolon commented, and took his leave, dissolving to dust.

  Setting a hand behind Seth’s back, Gabriel gently ushered him off towards one of the stairs that led into the palatial gardens. Once they were far enough away from the Emperor’s retinue, he paused, and took a careful breath, “…Do you know why Ren’s not talking to me?”

  Seth blanched, “Uh…what?”

  “After everything happened with the Fafnir…I thought Ren and I were close. But then Lord Rylen spooked her, and she hasn’t talked to me since.” Gabriel explained, “You’ve been her friend for most of your life though. Do you know if I did something wrong…? Or did Lord Rylen tell her I’m off-limits or something?”

  The teen could feel a drop of cold sweat run down the back of his neck, and he frantically waved his hands, “I surely wouldn’t know anything about Miss Ren’s personal dealings with Lord Rylen. She seems completely normal and fine to me, all things considered.” He said, suspiciously quickly.

  Gabriel quirked a brow, “…Did your brother tell her not to talk to me? She took off in a pretty big hurry at the memorial, when Xanarken asked me to come see her, and he did technically go after her on his own…”

  “I don’t…I don’t know what he’s told her to do. I don’t really get brought into those discussions.” Seth answered hastily, “She’s one of the only Fafnir left standing now though, so as her Captain, if he… I mean…he could… They even brought our dad back into semi-active service to help…”

  That just made the knots get tighter in Gabriel’s stomach, “…You’re acting weird. I’m gonna take this as an acknowledgement that you know something but that you can’t tell me.”

  Seth let out a near-explosive exhale, and quickly launched at the man, hands clasped together to beg, “I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t! There’s a really good reason for everything! I promise you’ll know when it’s over! But right now it’s reeeaaaaaaaally important that you don’t know and don’t ask any questions!”

  Bicolored eyes narrowed, “That just makes me want to.”

  “You absolutely cannot!” Seth argued, draping himself across the Vice’s front, arms over his shoulders to cling to that taller frame, “On my life, I swear, you cannot!”

  Gabriel stared ahead in annoyance, “Can you at least tell me if I’m still on her good side? The way she looked at me before, it’s like she was terrified of me. Give me something to chew on…”

  Seth slid back down to his own feet again, and his whole body sagged where he stood, “…It’s…complicated. I can’t say anything else though…it’s not my place…” He explained, quickly put his hands together in front of his face again as he bowed in apology, and took off before anything else could be said about it.

  Unsure if he felt better or worse then, Gabriel just stood without moving, staring into the foliage of the garden with a mind that was simultaneously blank, and noisy with incomprehensible chatter. He just grit his teeth, “Damnit…”