Argrave planted his foot down and crested over the top of a hill he’d travelled once before. The snow had melted a little more on their return, and the pine trees seemed a little more robust. Another detail was far more striking—namely, the moving hands of the clocktower overlooking the palace in Quadreign.

Vasilisa caught up with Argrave. The moment her eyes fell where his did, her brain worked to compute the implications. To cement her realization, Argrave commented, “Seems the flame is already doing its work. The people must be pleased.”

The Magister muttered something incomprehensible, words mashed together in her excitement, and then she took off towards the city isolated in the valley.

As Anneliese crested the hill next, she called out to Vasilisa in concern, “Watch your footing.”

Svetlana was the next to come, then Ganbaatar. Svetlana, another member of House Quadreign, had much the same reaction as her aunt, and set off back towards the city with the same disbelieving haste. They were both like treasure hunters that had finally found what they’d been hunting for all these years.

Galamon was the last to come—not because he was the slowest, but because he generally held the back of the line. Argrave stared at him as he came to stand. He was no expert on emotions as Anneliese was, but the man seemed to be in a strange state. Forget jubilation, relief—Galamon appeared to be in a state of frozen grief, of emptiness. It deeply worried Argrave.

“Anne,” Argrave called out, turning his head back to the city. “Diana of Quadreign is going to be cured. Unlike her sister… I think she’ll want more concrete terms of vassalage. We ought to talk about that, among other important things. I learned a lot from the Magister… I hope you did, too. We ought to discuss our findings.”

Anneliese glanced at Argrave as he looked over the valley city, then gave a knowing nod. “That is prudent.”

“Good. Let’s head down, get settled.” Argrave looked at Ganbaatar and inquired, “What’s your plan?”

“To remain with the…” Ganbaatar trailed off, realizing he couldn’t call him a vampire anymore. “To observe Galamon a while longer. I think Svetlana will accommodate me.”

“I hope so,” Argrave nodded, then set off down into the valley. “Even if she doesn’t… sleeping on the streets might not be so bad anymore. The heat’s back on.”

#####

Vasilisa tossed open the poorly maintained iron gates of the palace of Quadreign and stormed inside. The steward Ferrel stood in the courtyard as he did last time, but stepped towards the returning Magister with an urgency to him.

“The flame,” Vasilisa called out. “Is it there?”

The old Ferrel nodded intently to his words as he said, “Yes it is, lady Vasilisa. It reappeared one morning, like a trail of fire across the sky… I thought it was some sort of rift in the world itself, yet it flowed back into the old fire basin! Does this mean…?” he looked nervous and excited in equal measure. “I… everyone was cheering, but I feared to act… I feared…” his words faltered as though he had so many fears he did not know where to begin.

Vasilisa took a deep breath of exuberant triumph and exhaled. “Fear no longer. Get Diana at once, lead her down. I will go ahead and confirm things… and then… Ferrel…” she closed her eyes. “And then, House Quadreign can repay everyone’s steadfastness.”

The old steward’s eyes lit up with a fire of his own, and he gave a steady, certain nod. “I will speak to the baroness.”

within. As he walked into the confines of the tunnel heading deep within the earth, she slowed her pace slightly to breathe through her

The flame, more vibrant than she could ever remember it being, persisted defiantly deep in this chamber. All of the runes inscribed in the stone worked to sustain it, worked to grow it, and worked to fuel the

heart was beating quickly as she recognized it remained exactly as it had. Something scraped behind her, and she looked back to see Ferrel escorting Diana down. She leaned upon him heavily, yet

lit up like the midday sky and she tried to step away from Ferrel’s aid. Vasilisa stepped out

this looked like,” Diana said

Ferrel’s assistance, she stumbled—by then, Vasilisa was nearby to catch her. “Easy,” the Magister cautioned her, holding her by her arms. “Ferrel… I can handle things from here. There are guests you might have

“You catch me… at a bad

time,” Vasilisa said, helping her older sister

younger supporting the older. Though the flame seemed to do nothing… after a time, it was as though the black flame had found both kindling and fuel within their bodies. The flame

into a wince as the fire burning within her rose ever higher. Her fingers clenched tightly around Vasilisa’s arms as she put more and more of her weight upon her. She seemed to become a bright ball of the black flame far exceeding her sister’s. At its apex, Diana’s fingers clenched tightly… then relaxed all at once. Diana

sister, and the two of them slowly lowered to the floor. Despite the sudden event, the Magister merely held Diana, a relaxed and eased smile on her face. Though the flame was said to burn through stress and anxiety, Vasilisa questioned if that could truly be the sole source

fire basin. Vasilisa looked up for

the young mage

“I’m afraid I cannot carry your mother

#####

the accommodations… I would most like to return

waved his hand. “Do so at once. We can settle in

to leave. Once he did, Argrave looked around at the familiar guest house they’d stayed in when they first arrived at this city of Quadreign. Someone new was

and gently moved her deeper in the room. “Let’s take the chance to talk. I imagine it’ll be

at the wall, Argrave inquired, “Am I out

steadily. “You say that like

really changed for him.” Argrave rubbed his chin. “I wanted to help him while keeping his edge over

when the time comes—and it will, considering we need to enlist Veiden’s aid eventually. Galamon

bend are often brittle,” Argrave

one hand on her hip. “Should we make him a vampire again, try another method?” Her snide comment broke the tension and Argrave chuckled. As he did, Anneliese continued, “We

point about the futility of his train of thought. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted, taking a moment to recompose himself. “But on another

the vassalage?”

she doesn’t know us as Vasilisa does, and she’ll be able to think

healed her,”

house. “She’s fiercely shrewd, and she’ll definitely want the best for the people of the north. She’ll know that Vasilisa

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