Nikoletta sat by her father’s bedside, staring down at his chest as it rose and fell. His injuries were healed, leaving not even a scar, and his breathing was steady and unlabored. Still, he refused to awaken.

“It’s been two days, Master Castro. Can you not awaken him yet?” Nikoletta said, trying to keep her tone polite, but finding it difficult to do so in light of her worry.

The old tower master stood beside her, watching the Duke Enrico. “As I told you, the spell to do so would be very costly. I would not leave myself fully drained of magic with the possibility of a recurring attack. I understand your concern, young lady Monticci, but your father is in no immediate danger.”

“Hooh…” Nikoletta sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against her knees. “People in comas get brain damage sometimes, right? What if that happens?”

“What did I say?” Castro asked, then repeated, “Your father is in no immediate danger.”

“You’re right,” she said, lifting her head up. “You’re right. You would know best. I don’t… even know how to begin to thank you, Tower Master. How did you even find out about the invasion?”

Castro shook his head. “It was happenstance I came here. I was looking for a promising Acolyte.”

“Your wyvern… I never intended to…” she muttered. “You sacrificed much for Mateth.”

“I helped of my own accord. If one places their hand in troubled waters, should they rage when their hand is bit? Such is the action of a child, not a man as old as me.” The tower master smiled. “My Gray Owl… I cannot say I am unbothered by the loss, but when you lend something to someone unversed in how to use it properly, you cannot expect them to be a master. He had been by my side for seventy years. Everything dies, eventually.”

“House Monticci’s honor demands we repay this debt,” Nikoletta answered firmly.

“I know, and I do not doubt your house’s honor. Someday, that debt will be collected. I would prefer it to be at a time when neither will suffer further. Should I extort you while your seat of power lies in ruin, your father in a coma? One does not save a life expecting repayment—or at least, not a true savior,” Castro dismissed with a shake of his head. “Take your time, rebuild yourself and your city. Despite my sagging skin, I plan to live for a while yet.” The Tower Master smiled warmly.

“And besides, that squadron of archers you called for helped greatly when they arrived. I had heard of this ‘Ebonice’ through rumor alone, but it is indeed a great enemy to spellcasters.” He retrieved an arrow of the black substance and held it to the light. It resembled obsidian somewhat but was much more translucent.

“You are… a very good man, Master Castro,” Nikoletta said, a great deal of tension draining from her shoulders.

Nikoletta’s mind had grown numb from the constant anxiety the past few days. These events helped her realize how powerless she truly was. With her father incapacitated, she was the regent of the Duchy of Monticci. There was great unrest within the capital Mateth—refugees from the coastal villages swamped the city’s gates, causing great disorder outside.

Inside was little different. There were a few snow elves living within the city, and mobs formed, lynching several of them without provocation. It was a terrible thing, but the military force they had was too small to punish the people that carried out those acts. The guilt weighed at Nikoletta’s mind daily. She lowered her head into her hands, rubbing her tired eyes.

And atop all of that, Argrave was still absent. He could be dead. He could be a captive, tortured and starving. He could… Nikoletta frowned, recalling something the Tower Master had said.

“Master Castro,” she said, straightening her back. “That Acolyte you were looking for… was his name Argrave?”

Castro was taken aback. “Yes, it was. You know of him?”

“Are you serious?” she stood. “But then he…” Her mind fell into disarray.

Did he plan this all along? To have Master Castro come to help at the last minute?

“No… no, that’s ridiculous.” She shook her head.

“You know this boy, young lady Monticci?” the Tower Master questioned.

my cousin. He went to Veiden

say?” Castro asked with a strong hint of disbelief flavoring

snapped to attention. “That’s the watchman’s bell,” she said, the end of her sentence cut off with another ring. She stepped past the chair and quickly

ships. The flag bore atop the ship was white in way of the red flag with the black wheel in the center. She saw a lone figure on the figurehead of the

#####

arms crossed as she stood behind Argrave within the ship’s railings. She had donned a set of thick black leather robes lined with white fur more suitable for

the figurehead of the ship. He, too, wore a set of black leather robes, though with a cloak of white fur over his shoulders in way of lining. “Please. I saw you riding in this same spot when

the ship and Argrave jerked about, one foot slipping off the side. He barely managed to regain his balance, and then he made a speedy retreat back onto the safety of the boat’s railings. Anneliese stared at him. She didn’t smile much, but he had been around her long enough to recognize

it isn’t as dreamy as I thought it might be.” Argrave sat against one of the railings, peering out to the coastline ahead. “At least I don’t get seasick. Always wondered if I would, but never really

Is it because you’re heading home?” She sat on a chest tied to the ship’s

sold my home, became a nomad.” Argrave pointed at the chest Anneliese sat atop of. “I’m in good spirits because of those books in there. Good harvest, all things considered. Plus these Ebonice daggers…” Argrave tapped the three on his leg. “Dras is

that you’re happy because Mateth did not fall.

would not return to see the people he’d become intimately acquainted with over the past months dead. The other half was a deep anxiety that the opposite might be

his tongue. “Alright, so maybe I am. It’s a double-edged sword, though. Mateth is still standing, but it’ll be harder for Veiden to lend

want to prepare the world for Gerechtigkeit, but how?” She

like repeating myself especially, so

to

great number of knights moving across the coast towards their boat on foot. “Look at that,” Argrave said. “Another welcoming party for my landing. I

pigeon to himself and left it resting on the ship’s sail. He commanded the pigeon he was seeing through to move and watched as it flew out across the ocean towards the host of knights. In

once more. “Druidic magic will take

grew close enough, the ship turned on its side, and a great deal of Veidimen pushed out a plank that landed on the beach. They stayed aboard, but Argrave

Wind, untainted by snow or dread cold.

veritable parade of steel-armored knights approached them. One person broke free of the crowd and rushed forward, spurring a horse onward. Argrave suppressed a small little

overwrote whatever it was that spurred

in one piece,” Argrave

and veritably tackled Argrave, hands wrapped around his back. Argrave staggered a little but managed to keep his footing. His hands hovered awkwardly above

hugging? Well, I certainly didn’t…” Argrave trailed off. He heard some sobbing noises, muffled beneath his

crying?” Argrave turned his head to Anneliese

chest lightly. “Shut up, you

awkward considering the height difference. He didn’t want to get his clothes soaked

doing? Why do you go off on your own like that? You just leave

while, he opened his mouth and slowly said, “I mean… you’ve still got my clothes in that guest bedroom. Didn’t I say you could take them out

him a few seconds, but he recognized that she was laughing. She pushed away, looking up

began, wiping her face off. “The past few days… they’ve been unimaginably stressful. It all just exploded on you.” She took a deep breath, regaining her composure. “I thought I might never see you again. Spent the whole time steeling myself for that. Maybe they’d find

you, Argrave

for the wicked. That includes the long sleep.” He surveyed his clothes where she’d wept, cleaning them off with water magic briefly. “It appears

father… is in a coma, at least for another couple days.” She took

paper from his pocket. “Here. A contract. Peace treaty, I guess, but they

on the steadily approaching knights, marching on foot. He turned his head back to the longship. All those that had been rowing the longship stood at the edge, shields arrayed in a perfect line

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