Hi APK Team!

There are two more Chapters left after this - I split this one into two because I'm not quite finished with the ending and I think it might take me another day. 
I hope you enjoy this Chapter - I certainly enjoyed writing it after waiting for so freaking long to get here!! 
Thank-you for all of your votes and lovely comments on the previous Chapter, 

Much Love,
Daisy

_____________________________

Chapter 50 | The Final Truth

*

'Unable
are the loved
to die, 
for 
l o v e 
is 
immortality.'

- Emily Dickinson

*

LEONARDO

"Obsidian was right, I should have gone after her on my own."

Leonardo looked sideways at the curly haired man standing at the helm of the ship. Nathaniel's blue eyes were turbulent as the other man gazed out across the ocean.

"There is no point in thinking about it now," Leonardo consoled him, "and although he had a point, I think Captain Bones was being too harsh on you. He's biased, remember? Circe can handle herself."

"No more biased than I am," Nathaniel muttered quietly, his brows furrowing.

Leonardo turned, leaning his back against the upper railing and tilting his face to the sky. They had a strong tailwind today and the clouds raced across the sky high above, as though chasing them on. Tactfully changing the subject, he shifted the conversation to focus on their destination instead.

"It shouldn't take us too long to get there at this rate," he remarked.

Nathaniel looked ahead to the full sails and nodded, "You're right," he agreed. "We are making good time. Although we will have to be careful about where we weigh anchor. If we stop too close to the territory, we might have to speak with that massive water dragon," the blonde man shuddered impulsively, "I didn't even talk to it last time and it gave me the chills."

Leonardo couldn't help but laugh, "After everything you have experienced recently, and that's what you're afraid of? I would have thought coming face to face with Zeus Gold to be far more terrifying."

Nathaniel groaned, "Don't remind me," he laughed half-heartedly, "but yes, I suppose when you put it like that. However, lets avoid giant water dragons if possible, alright?"

"Alright," Leonardo smiled, "the Captain won't have a problem finding us either way."

The two men stood in amicable silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of the crew on the deck below. Leonardo could see Cobalt's ship off to port, and he could just make out the black-haired Pirate standing in the same position as Nathaniel on the top deck.

"What do you think you'll do, once this is all over?" Leonardo mused suddenly. It was a question that had been on his mind for some time – when he thought about it, he didn't actually know much about Nathaniel's previous life. He was aware that the other had been a solider of some sort and had left to find Circe when she had first disappeared. But as for his dreams, and aspirations, Leonardo had no clue.

Nathaniel hefted out a long sigh, "When this is over?" he gave a rueful laugh, "I don't know if I dare to think that far ahead yet."

"There's nothing wrong with dreaming," Leonardo responded leisurely, "Me, I've lived my entire life at sea, I don't think I could imagine any other way of being. But you, you weren't originally a sailor." Leonardo remembered the look on Nathaniel's face when the man had returned to the ship after that godforsaken visit to his hometown. He had – understandably – been distraught. But there had been anger as well, and Leonardo recognised that look all to well, it was the spark of revenge. He had wondered for a long time if Nate had planned to act upon it. "Do you think you would ever return home again?" His tone was casual, but it was a loaded question.

Nathaniel was silent for a long moment, and Leo was concerned he had pushed too far. Upon glancing at the other man, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Nate merely looked pensive, and so he gave him a little more time.

"I would like to, but I think that town is beyond salvaging," Nathaniel said finally. "I'm not stupid enough to believe that one person alone would be enough to resurrect a place, after such a thing has occurred."

Leonardo nodded slowly, "You never know," he said, "but I am sure that you would not return alone."

"I think Circe wouldn't mind retrieving some more of her things," Nathaniel agreed, "but I'm not sure she would be comfortable enough to go ashore, especially after what I witnessed last time."

Leonardo hummed in reply thinking privately that it wouldn't just be Circe that would be willing to assist Nate if he decided to retake his hometown. Nathaniel might be oblivious to it, but Leo knew that he had create many strong relationships during his travels. Those kinds of bonds were not so easily cast aside, Leo was sure.

After another moment, Nathaniel spoke again.

"I did wonder though, that if perhaps, somehow, the place could be salvaged, whether or not those who had left would come back."

"You mean your Father?" Leonardo asked, catching on quickly to what the other man was saying.

"If he's still alive," Nathaniel added nonchalantly, but Leo could tell by the way the other man's knuckles had clenched white on the wheel, that inside he did not feel so at ease.

"Samson said that there were signs that some of the population escaped safely," Leonardo dismissed the worry quietly, "if Samson says it, then it is so. That man is a dangerous mixture of skilled and intuitive when it comes to such things. If you saw your Father again, do you think you would tell him? That you're his son, I mean. He doesn't know, right?"

Nathaniel shook his head, "He doesn't know, but I don't think I would."

Leonardo was slightly astonished, "Why not?"

Nathaniel shrugged and sent him a small, half smile, "I'm not sure," he said, his voice a little nostalgic, "we had a pretty good relationship before – it wasn't as though he didn't even know my name. And I think he would be heart-broken if he found out that Circe wasn't related to him by blood, which would inevitably also happen. And also, I guess I was happy with my life beforehand too. I had a family, and friends. And after everything that has happened, and all the gains and losses, I guess I would just count myself fortunate if I could regain some semblance of normalcy," Nathaniel's smiled became rueful, "although I doubt that will happen any time soon."

Leonardo laughed, turning back around to fold his elbows across the railing, his chin resting on his arms as he looked out over the deck of the ship, "You never know, a person is nothing without their dreams after all."

*

CIRCE

It was the middle of the night and Circe couldn't sleep. She lay amongst the tousled bedsheets, staring at the ornate roof with her thoughts swarming wildly inside her head. And even though she had so many other things to be concerned over, for some reason she couldn't stop thinking about the scene depicted on that stained glass window.

After ten more minutes of restless tossing and turning, she threw off her blankets decisively and padded to the door to see if it had been left unlocked.

She grasped the doorknob, twisting it lightly. The motion was smooth and unobstructed. Unlocked. Wary of potential guards stationed outside, she eased the door open and peeked out into the hall cautiously.

There appeared to be no-one in the hallway either.

Dressed in a light white nightgown, Circe drifted out of her room and down the hall like a small ghost, her bare feet silent on the cool stone floor. The stained-glass panels she sought were not far, just down the other end of the long straight hallway.

When she reached the place where bright moonlight cascaded through the coloured glass, spilling wantonly onto the floor, Circe paused. She hovered along the edge of darkness and light, as though by stepping into is she would suddenly be revealed, although to whom, she was unsure.

She could not see the glass panels that she wanted to see from this angle however, so after a moment she glided forwards, the colours jumping from the floor to dance across her nightgown instead.

Circe barely noticed as she reached the middle of the hall and her vision was filled with the scene from before.

Gisir Ilyrana, the Great Water Dragon, Guardian of the Water Kingdom, waited for her, coiled like a serpent, his emerald glass eyes glowing hauntingly in the white light of the moon.

Circe breathed out, swaying forward to brush her fingers over the dragon's iridescent glass scales, her fingertips dancing lightly over each one. She walked alongside the panels, her hands smoothing out to trace the flow of the dragon's body which seemed to travel on forever, winding and twisting. Eventually she followed the path of his body back to the centre and found herself standing, yet again, in front of the unknown Water Sprite.

She took a single step backwards and silently absorbed the scene. The Water Sprite was defenceless, their hands at their sides, empty of weapons. Circe looked at the blue hair that billowed about the shoulders of the person and wondered if they were male or female.

If she remembered correctly, her Mother had stated that the Rulers of the Water Kingdom had always been female.

A thought occurred to her and she turned, curious about the contents of the panels on the opposing side. Similar to the other one, the middle scene on the other side also took up three glass panels. Not only that, but the location of the scene was as familiar as the other – in fact, Circe had been there just yesterday.

The throne room of the Palace was exactly the same as it was depicted here in the stained glass – Circe had only stood in it twice before, but the interactions she had had in that room would forever be ingrained in her memory.

In this scene, the Water Sprite was present yet again, but this time he was kneeling on the plush blue carpet as he faced an empty throne, his back once again, turned towards Circe and therefore obscuring his face from view.

There were other people present too, lined up on either side of the kneeling figure, their heads turned towards him. And although the stained glass did not allow for heavy detail to be wrought into the faces, Circe could not help but feel that their expressions were ones of disgust and disappointment.

Absentmindedly, Circe searched for her Mother amongst the standing figures, but she could not find her present. Intuition told her that this scene had occurred before her Mothers time.

Standing between the two glass windows, Circe looked between them both and wondered how the story was meant to be interpreted. No, Ambrose had made it clear that it was not a story. 'A reminder', he had said. Still, she wondered if there was an order to the panels. Which one came first? The meaning changed somewhat, depending on the order, Circe thought.

She widened her vision to encompass the other, single windows that she had previously overlooked and realised that each panel held one person. She walked down the hallway, observing each one. The people varied, sometimes they were Sirens, with extravagantly plumed tails, their eyes closed, faces serene and peaceful as they projected a façade of beauty.
Other times they were Water Sprites, depicted half in and half out of, their natural forms. These panels were a myriad of blues – hardly any other colours present, while the Siren panels were a kaleidoscope of colours, all dancing together.

There seemed to be no particular pattern or order to the individual panels, and Circe continued down the hallway until she reached a portrait that held a woman with billowing golden curls and a deep, golden fish tail. The woman was uncannily familiar.

"Mother?" Circe breathed, reaching out to touch the glass, as if by doing so she would receive some kind of confirmation. And although no such affirmation came, Circe was certain her assumption was truth.

In her portrait, Evangeline's expression was unusually fierce, her sea blue eyes staring solemnly down at Circe. It was a stark contrast to the other portraits depicting Sirens, whose alluring faces were tranquil like still water, eyes cast demurely downwards – all of it a deadly façade, Circe knew.

Evangeline's rich, blonde curls spiralled around her heart shaped face, her tail swishing to curl slightly forward, giving her Mother the appearance of someone who had been swimming towards a goal, only to stop at the last second, hanging suspended in the wake of their own advance.

In her left hand, Evangeline clutched a stone that was all too familiar, the sapphire pendant twinkling tantalizingly at Circe through the glass. The chain of the pendant was broken, as though Evangeline had ripped it from around someone's neck.

In her right hand, she held a golden trident, her shoulder pulled back slightly, as though she was poised to hurl the weapon in Circe's direction.

Circe's gaze drifted back to the pendant. A thought occurred to her and she made her way back to the centre of the hallway, observing the other portraits critically. Sure enough, her suspicions proved to be correct as she found the pendant present in each individual glass panel. Although the location varied each time, sometimes hung around a neck, sometimes coiled within thick locks of hair, sometimes floating, suspended in the water, Circe was sure that it was the same pendant in each one.

Which could only mean that each portrait depicted a previous Water Kingdom Ruler, with her Mother's portrait being the most recent addition and the panels closer to the centre showing those further back in history.

Inevitably, Circe found herself back in the middle of the hallway, her heart burning with questions as she gazed up at the proud back of the Water Sprite in the scene before her. The first Ruler to abdicate the throne, Ambrose had said. So then what was the 'reminder' that was shown here, immortalised in such a fragile form? Was the 'first Ruler' also the first in another sense of the word? Was that why they were granted six panels? The idea seemed plausible, based on her assumptions.

Yet somehow the feeling Circe got, was not one of joyous celebration from a recent coronation, but rather that of an Angel who had fallen from Heaven and been struck with the bitterness of mortality.

She sank down to sit on the floor, her nightgown pooling around her as she continued to muse over the meaning behind the panels. Gisir Ilyrana's ferocious eyes stared at her from within the glass, strikingly intimidating. And yet, the back of the Water Sprite remained straight and unafraid.

Circe wondered why that back seemed so hauntingly familiar to her.

"I thought I told you to find me if there was anything else you needed."

Circe almost jumped out of her skin, rising from the floor guiltily to look in the direction of the person who stepped out from the shadows, his blue hair shining white in the cold moonlight.

"I- I couldn't sleep," she said sheepishly, her expression contrite as she realised no excuse other than the truth would be passable.

Ambrose stopped directly in front of her, blocking her view of the stained-glass windows. The moonlight illuminated his back, while his face remained in shadow, creating a halo of light that surrounded his personage, shifting with his movements.

He extended a hand as though to touch her cheek, but his hand halted, mere inches away from her face, his expression unreadable.

She gazed at him questioningly and he dropped his hand, turning his face away.

"Is your curiosity so insatiable?" He asked quietly.

Circe opened her mouth, but suddenly found herself at a loss for words. His tone made her feel awkward, as though she had been caught prying through his own personal possessions. She began again, trying to offer words of denial, attempting to tell him that she would return to her room, but those words wouldn't come out either, her thirst for knowledge creating a lump in her throat. She ended up not speaking at all, looking down at her hands a little shamefacedly.

"I'm ... sorry," she said finally, neither an agreement, nor a refusal. Her earlier anger at him had waned somewhat, now that she had spoken to her Mother and been given a verdict. She realised that she may have been a little harsh towards him. He was only acting as he had been commanded to do so.

There was a long moment of silence, and when Ambrose finally spoke, his words were not what Circe expected to hear.

"I must apologise also, for my earlier outburst. I did not mean to make you afraid."

Her head shot up and she met his steady gaze. For a moment she could reply, but eventually she shook her head, her eyes flicking away as she cleared her throat.

"No ... no it's fine. I am sorry if my ... I'm sorry for prying."

Ambrose let out a heavy, but quiet sigh. "You were not prying," he said eventually, "it is never prying to want to know the History of your ... of our people."

Circe's heart sped up a little, "So, you do know more about this?" She gestured to the stained-glass windows and looked at him warily.

Ambrose's eyes were piercing as he stared at her and for a moment she felt as though he was looking directly into her mind. She shivered a little and he glanced away.

"Yes," he replied calmly. "I know, because I was there."

Her eyebrows rose, "You were there? But it was so long ago."

The corner of his lip twitched upwards and she swore that there was humour concealed in his tone when he next spoke, "I did tell you I had been alive for a long time."

Circe nodded slowly, swallowing her surprise. There were the beginnings of a thought, whispering through her mind, and like an itch she couldn't scratch, it teased her, dancing around the edges of her understanding. Almost, it sung, you're almost there.

"Then what happened?" She persisted shamelessly, all semblance of embarrassment cast to the wayside, "That's my Mother in the end panel, isn't it? Are they all Rulers? These women? And the Water Sprite? I want to know –

"I know you do," Ambrose said quietly, "but unfortunately I cannot answer your questions fully, nor can I tell you if what you believe is true. I can only guide. It is all I am permitted to do."

Circe frowned. "What do you mean," she faltered, "I don't understand. I thought you said ..."
She trailed off suddenly as she stared up at the Water Sprite in front of her.

Ambrose's gaze was direct. Scarily so. Circe's heart thudded against her ribcage as her thoughts swirled wildly. The theory in her mind was slowly evolving, becoming more and more defined as different truths slotted together, like pieces of a puzzle forming one perfect image. And that image was-

"Turn around," Circe breathed.

Ambrose looked down at her with melancholy eyes and slowly turned to give her his back.

"Walk forward," she commanded, her hands trembling at her sides.

After a moment, Ambrose stepped forward. As though sensing what Circe was about to ask, he did not stop until he was perfectly aligned with the figure that was stained into the glass. He paused for a split second, and then lifted his head, his hands floating out a little to either side.

The last piece fell into place and the image was complete.

A familiar back presented itself to Circe. It was an unbendable back, proud and unafraid. The Water Sprite, with hair like a cloud of blue ink, gazed up at Gisir Ilyrana without fear, prepared to receive his sentence for making the choice to abdicate the throne, to turn his back on the people he was destined to give his life to serve.

Ambrose. His very name meaning 'immortal'. Circe should have known. Her heart thudded against her ribcage, and she felt as though the sound of it filled the quiet space that surrounded the two of them.

She turned her head to gaze upon the throne room scene behind her, and only now did the two images completely link together.

In the throne room scene, Ambrose knelt before the throne. One arm hung at his side, while the other was hidden, presumably crossed over his chest. The carpet leading to the throne was lined with what Circe could now safely assume to be the 'elders' she had never met, as well as the council members Ambrose had abandoned upon his abdication from the throne.

"This is my most trusted advisor," Evangeline's introduction of Ambrose suddenly resounded through Circe's mind and a growing realization sent a deep fear clawing through her heart.

"You have served the throne, this whole time?" She rounded on Ambrose to see him watching her silently. Her eyes flickered across the portraits that lined the halls, her horror increasing, "this entire time?" She repeated, gesturing to the glass panels in an effort to convey her meaning.

"I am charged with ensuring that no one repeats the same mistake," Ambrose replied quietly, his words carefully vague. His luminescent blue eyes haunting in the dimly lit hall, "Ever."

Circe caught the implication. "You're immortal?" She asked sharply.

Ambrose gazed down at her silently. "I must remain, to serve the throne," he said finally. She took that as confirmation.

"You are cursed," Circe spat out, her eyes wide, "this is a curse. You should have had the right to choose. Who did this to you?" Her gaze suddenly fell upon the window behind Ambrose and she pointed, with a shaking hand, to the Dragon within the glass, who still stared coldly down at the Water Sprite standing in front of her, "did he do it? He did, didn't he?"

Ambrose only looked at her silently, but Circe did not need any words of affirmation.

"Why?" She choked out, "You only wanted to be free, right?" Her emotions were swirling.

To abdicate, only to be cursed to serve the very throne he should have been seated upon – forever. It was nothing short of hell.

"If there was someone else, someone better suited then-" her eyes were a little wild, her words pouring out in a garbled mess, "I don't understand why you should be punished like this! I don't understand what is so bad about-"

Her voice cut off, her words getting clogged in her throat as she stared at Ambrose, at a loss. She was distraught for him. For the empty life he had been forced to live. And she was suddenly terrified. Terrified for herself. Would this happen to her as well? Was this the choice she had made? Was this future unavoidable? The sudden realization that she may never see the ones she loved, ever again, hit her like a brick. Or even worse, if she could see them, but could only watch them age with time, while she remained untouched. Forever preserved in Hell.

As though he could read her thoughts, Ambrose suddenly caught her, crushing her into a fierce embrace and interrupting her self-deprecating thoughts.

"Shh," he hushed her quietly, "enough. I will not let this happen to you." His hands ran, firm and strong, up and down her back.

A dry sob caught in her throat and abruptly she was hugging him back, her hands gripping the back of his clothes as though in any moment he would disappear.

"I'm sorry," she was shocked by a mixture of grief and anger at her own incapability, "I am so sorry."

Ambrose shifted, holding her at arm's length so that he could look deep into her eyes. His expression was steady as always, but whether it was because Circe now knew what she did, or because Ambrose had let a little of his emotionless façade drop, or perhaps a mixture of the two – Circe suddenly felt as though this person was not the same as before.

The person in front of her now, was the King depicted in the stained-glass window, and Circe no longer needed to imagine the face of the Water Sprite as he looked unwaveringly up at the Great Dragon, graciously accepting his penance without trepidation – because he was now looking right at her.

The moonlight shone quietly through the window, illuminating the two Royals, the oldest, and the youngest. Both of them connected by a single choice they had made and a burning thirst for freedom – freedom from a throne that sought to suffocate them with choking hands.

"Never apologise," Ambrose told her, azure eyes suddenly terrifying in their intensity, "never apologise for choosing yourself."

*

AMBROSE

The ocean was dark and silent, and it rolled restlessly under the light of the moon, silver dancing off the surface of the water, the weak light not strong enough to illuminate the depths below.

It was through this soundless ocean that Ambrose swam, with a purposeful single mindedness. Half of his thoughts remained back at the castle, where Circe was now shut safely in her room, the other half focused on the conversation he would now need to have.

No one had seen him leave, and so no one was there to bear witness as Ambrose swam to the border of the Water Kingdom and then ventured just slightly beyond. He did not have to go too far before he reached the place that he and Circe had passed through, only earlier that very morning.

The coral reefs here took on a different kind of light at night-time, their luminescent turrets twisting and curling into bizarre shapes, as radiant fish flitted in and out of their luminous homes. It was due of course, to the over-abundance of energy present in the water – as was the case with the coral reef that bordered the Air Kingdom to the West.

And such energy was only present due to the fact that this was his domain.

Ambrose hung, suspended in the water as he looked downward towards the glistening sand that gave off a mysterious shimmer in the cool ocean light.

He did not have to wait long.

The sand shifted, and at first it was just a small segment that collapsed, tricklingly downwards like a miniscule waterfall. But suddenly a larger chunk shifted, and a higher ridge of sand crumpled inwards, creating an avalanche that gradually revealed the form of the Dragon resting below.

One golden eye opened, almost perfectly camouflaged within the sand. The eye blinked, and when it reopened, it was a rich emerald green, and it was focused on Ambrose.

So, you have come.

Ambrose bowed his head slightly, allowing the powerful voice to rumble through his mind. No matter how many times he had heard it, he had never gotten used to the chills it sent shivering down his spine. He doubted he ever would.

Yes, I have come.

The eye blinked lazily and Gisir Ilyrana made no other attempt to move. I knew you would. As soon as saw you with her, I knew you would come back here.

Ambrose remained where he was, the water swirling around him tenderly. Then you also know why I am here.

The pupil in the centre of the great eye widened slowly, and the internal voice became languid.

Naturally. And this Great One answers you this: after the leniency I have granted you, you still dare to appear before this Excellency asking for more?

Ambrose bowed lower, his face remaining passive. You should know that I do not ask this for my own personal gain.

No, the voice held the hint of a sneer. The eye blinked, changing back to gold. But you still come asking. That girl ...

Yes?

She wishes to abdicate. Truly, she is your descendant, is she not?

Ambrose paused for a long moment. And then: Yes.

And I suppose you are concerned that this Great One will punish her in the way I punished you?

Ambrose did not speak.

The dragon snorted disdainfully, and more sand was dislodged from around his face as a cloud of bubbles streamed from his nose. You do not need to concern yourself; she is destined to walk a different path to you, came the surprisingly straightforward answer.

Ambrose lifted his head in astonished disbelief. You mean that she will be granted clemency?

It appeared he had regrettably said the wrong thing however, for Gisir Ilyrana became abruptly enraged and the dragon swelled from the sea floor like a boundless river, his jade eyes burning with an emerald flame. Sand poured off him in a cloud of golden dust that hung, glittering and suspended in the still water.

The surrounding fish scattered back into their coral homes and the dragons voice thundered into Ambrose's mind, his colossal, scaled head turning to face Ambrose directly.

Ignorant child, are you so blinded by your past grievances that you imagine the same fate must befall any who step out of line? You have said before that your fate is yours alone, have you not?
You – you were born to sit upon the throne, the dragon's eyes were narrow with displeasure.
This Excellency created you, a human image of my own self, to rule over the Water Kingdom, to maintain order for an eternity. But you deviated from the path I had paved for you. You chose to love. And that was your undoing, was it not?

Ambrose's eyes were cold, I will not apologise for what is past.

You do not need to. The dragon huffed irately, some of his anger waning. The children of you and your Siren lover have apologised on your behalf by committing their lives, many generations over. And you have apologised by serving them, kneeling one step below the throne that was meant to be yours. All of it to save the one who inevitably betrayed you.

She did not betray me.

The green eyes narrowed. She died.

To grow old and pass on into the next life is not betrayal, Ambrose thought softly.

Call it what you will, the dragon huffed coldly, you were left alone in the end. Gisir Ilyrana adjusted his position in the water. I even created another for you, in her image, but you did not want her.

The only similarities they shared was their appearance, Ambrose said regaining some of his calm, Katarina had none of her empathy.

The great dragon snapped his teeth together irately. She was still your responsibility. You let her out of sight and look at all of the trouble she caused. Her death was the only fortunate event to come of that whole disaster.

I would agree. But I still did not wish for her creation, and I certainly never remembered accepting responsibility for her actions.

The dragon's long tongue flickered out of his mouth. I will choose to ignore your pHis eyes blinked, changing from green to gold. But that girl of yours, she was never fated to sit upon one throne. Her destiny lies elsewhere.

For a moment, Ambrose was shocked into quiet. These words were ones he had never imagined he would hear. It was true – he had only ever imagined one outcome. And that outcome was that Circe would be forced to share the same fate as he.

But now it appeared that that had never been the case. Still, he did not regret his actions. And after he had thought about it for a moment, he realised that this sentence only raised more questions. A destiny that lay else-where? He was sure that it would be no normal path Circe was fated to walk down, otherwise the Great Dragon would not have shown such interest in her.

And I don't suppose you will tell me where. His internal voice was nonchalant, but his heart burned with curiosity.

The dragon blinked leisurely at him. Her destiny is not for you to know, but for you to watch as it unfolds.

Ambrose's heart skipped a beat. He didn't dare to hope, but ...

Meaning? He queried.

Meaning that you may go with her and serve under her if she wishes. I will allow for you to remain by her side until another is born to take over the Water Kingdom throne, upon which time you must return to serve the new ruler.

An emotion Ambrose did not feel often, freed the weight that had been sitting on his chest. He felt his lips curl unconsciously and he bowed low to hide his smile. I understand. Thank-you for your generosity, Father. I had been centuries since he had last used this term of address. He did not speak it lightly.

Gisir Ilyrana snorted disdainfully, but Ambrose could hear the underlying smugness in the dragon's tone when his next words rumbled into Ambrose's mind. This Excellency shows you such generosity, yet you offer nothing in return.

That is not true, naturally I brought you an offering.

The green eyes blinked, morphing into gold. What treasure did you bring?

It is information.

What information do you have that can't already be known by this Great One?

The kind that has been carefully guarded.

Well? The dragon's coils contracted and retracted impatiently.

I have recently spoken with Darius.

And what information could the Lycanthrope have that this Excellency could possibly find interesting?

He believes that he has found the one you have been waiting for.

The Dragon's pupils contracted into vertical slits.

Oh, has he now?

*