Though Argrave had wished to inform Brium of what Crislia had said immediately, the Lord of Copper had been preoccupied with something. Anneliese and Argrave spent that time planning for how to handle the changing situation. Ridden with anxiety, he had returned the next day, catching the Vessel early in the morning.

“She told me to ‘know my place?’” Brium questioned, one hand placed atop the other on the table as he stared at Argrave.

“Well…” Argrave trailed off, acting hesitant to repeat it.

Brium sat there for a while in the silence. He tapped one finger against the back of his hand, gaze distant. Eventually, he stood up, pacing about the room.

“…I’ll give her an answer. Tomorrow.” He turned his head to Argrave. “And things will be expedited because of it. When one is spurned, love can turn to hatred overnight. She must have something prepared for both answers—Crislia plays both sides against each other, she always has. Immediately after my refusal, there will be retaliation.”

Argrave took a deep breath and gaze a steady nod, resolving himself. On this front, he and Anneliese had been correct. He had done everything he could. He could only hope Durran moved as quickly as he did and did not lose himself in indecision.

“Indeed, we might expect their attack tomorrow, as soon as my answer is given,” Brium placed his hand to his chin. “This suits me fine; I have everything in place. But you… you will head to the southron elves. You will prepare them, and then I will expect to see them coming to Cyprus tomorrow morning. Yarra will accompany you to gather them—no exceptions,” he pointed his finger. “I will stall for your arrival.”

Though hesitant, Argrave did eventually give a nod of agreement. “She’ll have to wear a veil, but I can certainly make this happen.”

“Then make it so,” the Lord of Copper snapped. “Rushing water is always cleaner than stagnant water. And Sethia will soon become as clean as ever.”

#####

“Why did you lie to me?” Durran demanded, holding his glaive to Titus’ neck. The blade was made of a black bone, and sharpened enough to rival any blade. The merchant wearing red and gold sat across from him with hands still, maintaining complete ambivalence to the situation.

“Because it was easier,” said Titus.

“Easier?” Durran repeated. “No—I know that’s not true. Even if you’d been honest that Brium intended to betray us, I would have gone along with it. You’re one of us—you used to be. You know we would take this chance to liberate Sethia. You just wanted us to be unaware. Wanted us to die.”

Titus pressed his finger to the glaive, pushing it away. “I won’t answer,” Titus said boldly. “Go. Do your duty. After Crislia’s intervention, the battle will come all the sooner.”

Durran stood. “Answer me, damnit, or I’ll cut your head clean off.”

Titus’ golden eyes remained firm. “You would lose the battle without the men under my control to help you.”

“I don’t care. We haven’t attacked yet. I can call this thing off—I still have that luxury. If you won’t explain yourself, I’ll ruin whatever you had planned.” Durran readied his glaive.

voice cold and

won’t answer,” Titus shook his

Titus remained still, yet closed his eyes. Yet a ringing sounded out as metal met metal.

the glaive. Sweat dripped down his brow, but he

lives, and he was ready to throw them away. He would see them battered and broken

is not the answer,” Boarmask shook his

an answer. Even if it’s wrong, it’s an answer. I don’t like leaving questions unanswered, you see,” Durran pulled his glaive

in between Titus and Durran. He drew the mace at his side, holding it in his

won’t allow things to fall apart. Sethia must be

glaive before him. “Tolerate one injustice to end another. Whatever

apart. After things have settled, I will help you bring

him!” Durran yelled. “Not until I get answers. So step aside, or I’ll finally answer

I hoped your people would die,” Titus said bitterly. “Fine. I

The armored knight dropped his mace, raising his

gestured,

Vessels, the southern tribals—there is no future in either,” Titus

you talking about?”

of the Vessels, establish another foothold for your people to fight back against the unending rain of Fellhorn.” Titus waved between the two of them. “I have no love for the Vessels. They stole my baby from me, claiming it as a Vessel. They Drained my wife, Drained my twelve-year-old child… all because he was ignorant

vague semblance of sympathy weakening his

butchered their people, destroyed their knowledge.” Titus crossed his arms. “And after? The tribals turned their gaze to the north—Vasquer. They threw themselves against the Lionsun Castle, hordes

their people to death. A tyranny of a different type—a human tyranny. I would not suffer your people’s control over Sethia. I wished to build something different. Something better. And I won’t apologize for

in the way, is that it?” Durran

his arms out. “There’s your answer. I kept you ignorant because

in silence, hand clenched tightly against

will work together to remove the Vessels. With Crislia’s intervention, the battle will come soon. But as far as I am concerned, your people are yet another blight

the chair. The

said coldly. “And then we’ll settle

to his feet amidst the shattered chair. Boarmask’s gaze lingered on Titus for a long while, and then he

#####

Sethia immediately, still sore and unrested from the wearying journey to the elves. Things had mostly aligned with their expectations, barring Yarra’s

enough to migrate, but the sword stabbed into the sand was broken—their magic would no longer function, even if Yarra did the correct

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