Seravel dragged his feet going to the fire sprite assembly who arrived shortly after the war was declared over. The fire potentate and his delegates rode down from Calca to meet with the Seelie Court to talk about things Seravel didn't care about. He was probably going back to Lanbridhr the second his father saw him. Then, he's going to spend the rest of his life stuck inside the Palace unless Xanthy thinks of an excuse for him. Not that he was hoping for that. Xanthy was busy enough already.

He reached the wide door leading to the set of rooms where the Seelie Court stashed the fire sprite nobles. A lump formed at his throat as he stepped forward, locating a common room where the nobles lounged on deformed chairs pulled from somewhere in the wreckage on the eastern flank of the Imperial Palace.

His father turned away from a set of maps scattered on a wooden table whose contents now littered the carpeted floor. Seravel studied the swirls embroidered on the rugs. Should he have taken needlework as an elective back at the Academy?

He could feel his father's burning gaze on his scalp.

"Seravel," Magren, the Potentate started. "What are you thinking?"

Seravel held his tongue as he was trained to do so since birth. If holding tongues were a sport, he would probably be the undefeated champion. He waited for his father to finish his statement with his signature line, you can speak. It didn't come. Father and son stared at each other, the latter patiently waiting, the former wondering what in Umazure was wrong with his son.

The Potentate sighed, bracing the table with both hands. The other nobles stared at Seravel like he's the cause of every hardship their leader has been through. "Going to war by yourself, sneaking under my nose, and actually going to Parkane," his father rasped. He seemed to think the table was his son. "Are you out of your damned mind?!"

Seravel flinched. There still wasn't the line so he couldn't defend himself. The best he could do was to step back. He angled his body towards the door so he could run if needed to.

"Sire," Ardi said after a while. "You have to say the line."

Ardi was probably the only one who could speak out of turn without losing his head on the process. The Potentate sighed and waved his hand. "You may speak."

As if by magic, Seravel's tongue unlatched from the roof of his mouth. "I did it to save our people," his tone came out defiant. Oh no. That's wrong. "You wouldn't have listened even if I told you because you're busy aiding the Heiress with our own soldiers."

His father's face reddened. Holy gods of Calaris. An image of a corpse-blessing ceremony flashed into Seravel's mind. It wouldn't be too long. "Don't think I have no idea what you're doing behind my back for years now," his father said in a grave tone. "I know it's you behind those cursed prints."

Seravel completed his step back, this time. The things he said on the weekly paper criticizing his own father's regiment would warrant him sure death in the courts. Oh, gods.

"After you left, I thought about those words," the Potentate's tone softened. "And I realized...they were right."

Seravel froze. What? Was this a dream? Had Parkane not spat him out after all? His reply died down at the back of his throat. His father drew away from the table and came to him.

His father clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to jostle his brain. "I'm proud of you, son."

Okay, Seravel was definitely dreaming. Or dead.

"I saw you fight on the battlefield, son," his father continued. "I never thought I'd raised you to be like your mother."

Seravel stared at the cracked walls and did his best to hold tears back. Those words alone sent a thousand embers dancing in his gut.

"Now, we will plan our journey back to Calca..." the Potentate trailed off as he turned to the table with the maps again.

"I'm not going back," Seravel blurted. His eyes widened. He didn't mean to say that. His words hung idly on the air until his father took it all in.

The Potentate slowly whirled to him. "What?"

Seravel clenched his fists and steeled his nerves. "I'm not going back," he said, this time, stronger. "I have a duty here."

"And what would that duty be?"

Seravel gulped. "I'll be ruling over the island with...the High Queen."

He expected his father to laugh or to call him crazy after years of doing it. Instead, his father smiled tightly. "When will the coronation be?"

Seravel bit his lip. "Tomorrow."

"Good," the Potentate straightened. "It's right that we brought formal attire."

Seravel raised his eyebrow and decided to push it. "I thought you're planning on leaving?"

The Potentate didn't look like he was about to hang Seravel to the gallows with that question. "Why, it's my son's ascent to a rank higher than me. I would like to relish the remaining days when I have authority over you."

Seravel could only shake his head and sigh. As condescending as it sounded to others, he knew that his father only meant well. His father being proud of him? This was surely a day Seravel would remember for the rest of his life.

Ariden exhaled as he inclined his head at the descending night sky. He sat on the stairs leading to the courtyard. The breeze nipped at his skin. Crozal was absent tonight which eased something inside him. He hated that moon. Instead, Murco, Samiri, and Kamara were present tonight. Perhaps, this was going to be a pleasant evening.

Something shuffled behind him. He whipped around and his arm caught a jaw. Ralei stood still as Ariden's attack barely razed him. Ariden hummed. As expected from his big friend. He relaxed as his friends slowly emerged from the shadows like the perfect thieves they were. There was Faw with already a dozen stadian candelabras on her arms.

"Hey, guys," Ariden waved as he leaned over, searching for another person. "What brings you here?"

"We heard you're gonna be a king or something," Lufi approached him and punched him lightly in the shoulder. Blood rushed to his face. Ha, it must be because he's happy to see his friends after so long.

Ariden snorted. "Not a king," he scratched the back of his neck. "I would explain it to you but you're probably not gonna listen anyway."

"Of course," Tria stepped forward and tackled Ariden in a hug. If anything, the gesture was more of a sisterly act rather than a romantic one. "you pulled through, Ari. Congratulations. Cohnal owes me a freshly cut ruby because of that."

"What, to decorate your rings again?" Ariden pulled himself out of Tria's arms. "Really, with me in power, I'd have no choice but to catch you."

"Don't count on it, silky," Lufi reached out and tousled Ariden's uncombed hair. Silky. She's the only person who could get away with calling him that name after the color of his hair. "We're thieves. We're not gonna be under some stuffy imperials."

"Xanthy's awesome," Ariden slapped Lufi's hand away and messed his hair on his own. "You'll love her."

Lufi raised an eyebrow. "Xanthy, huh? That girl, really?"

"Yeah," Ariden crossed his arms. "You should have seen her on the battlefield. Damn, you wouldn't want her as an enemy. I suggest you live righteous lives starting now."

"Let's not forget the fact that you're the one who set us on this path in the first place," Aeril cocked his head at Ariden. His eyes were glued to a path from behind Ariden, no doubt picturing the perfect escape plan before any of the guards caught them. If there's any left, that was.

"I was bored, honestly!" Ariden threw his arms up. "Now you're all free to do what you want and stuff. I'll probably be very busy in the coming days."

"Once a thief, always a thief," Lufi sidled close to Ariden. Why was it suddenly so hot? Were his cheeks burning? "You're never gonna get rid of us that easily, Ari."

"Yeah, I love you too, Lufi," Ariden rolled his eyes. His heart pounded on his chest like it had gone crazy. After a few beats and Lufi's bewildered stare, he snickered. "Nah, kidding. You looked like you are about to murder me."

Lufi unfroze from her stance and shook her head. She grinned and flashed Ariden's dagger on her hand. When had she pilfered that? Oh, when she got close to him. "I'll be wanted on Avalora with more than just stealing charges if I kill the king's heir," she winked.

"Once a thief, always a thief," Ariden grinned and swiped Lufi's prized necklace around her neck as he moved to clap her on the shoulder. Before she could notice, he addressed his friends. "Here's to us and to more adventures ahead."

He raised his fist bearing Lufi's chain necklace, the one featuring the names of her siblings. Lufi reddened, punching Ariden on the arm—harder, this time—and swiping her jewelry out of his hand. He laughed. Ralei, Tria, Cohnal and his twin, Aeril, knocked fists with him. Of course, Faw was nowhere to be found again. Hmm. She'd know when it's time to go.

Ariden smiled with his friends as they joked around for a few minutes. Crozal's absence was forgotten. It couldn't get better than this.

Elred found her father standing by an arch. He had his hands clasped behind his back as he looked at something beyond him. Cirasa was just coming from the opposite hallway. The siblings froze in their tracks when they saw each other.

Cirasa still had a huge bruise at his neck from where the soldiers hit him. The events at Parkane still haunted Elred's dreams. Did Cirasa have the visions too? Elred bit her lip. Together, they approached their father. Zeral must have noticed the tension in the air as he turned to them both without as much of a flinch.

"Hey, Dad," Elred took a place beside her father and followed his gaze to a tree in the middle of the courtyard. It's the same tree which witnessed them bless the dead earlier. The night sky glared from the tree's dappled canopy. Elred didn't know which moon was out tonight, though. She didn't pay enough attention to sighting lessons enough to memorize the star calendars. What day was it, even?

Cirasa cleared his throat having stood at their father's opposite side. "Thinking about Mom?"

Zeral raised an eyebrow at his son. "Your oracle senses told you that?"

Cirasa winced. Their father can be quite cutting when disturbed from what he's currently doing, regardless of who's doing the disturbing. Elred could understand his behavior, especially now.

"My 'oracle senses' don't work this time of the day," Cirasa quipped. Elred pursed her lips. That was a good comeback she hadn't expected from her softhearted brother. Usually, he would just curl in shame under their father's gaze.

Elred laughed to herself. Zeral never cared about her as a child as he seemed to always care about Cirasa because of his biology. She never got the end of her father's temper. All she got were cold stares and passive sighs. Seeing Cirasa standing up to their father like this blasted a flare of pride for her little brother. War could change people. How in Umazure had it changed her?

"Congratulations on being the oracle, by the way," Elred turned her attention back to the tree. She had never noticed how its uppermost leaves turned yellow like a cap atop a green head.

Her brother shrugged. Their father had become characteristically silent once again. "It's not as fun as you think," Cirasa wrinkled his nose and sighed. "I mean, I spent all my life not knowing what's wrong with me."

Elred nodded. She knew all about that. She watched him struggle with himself along with the excruciating pain none of the healers could explain. "I'm glad you're here, Rassy," she said. "I wish Mom was too. There's so many things I wanted to tell her."

"Like what, Elred?" Zeral suddenly faced her. Anger scrawled her father's features, reminding Elred of her uncle who did nothing but drink Rosado. "You sure enjoyed your time making her miserable."

Elred grimaced. She hadn't been a good daughter. She wouldn't deny that. However, she had wanted to be better. Everything was too late the moment she realized she needed to make amends with her mother. It's one of the regrets she would forever carry.

"I wish I could apologize for that time, Father," Elred snapped, using the formal word to address him. "I was misguided. Unruly. It's all in the past."

Zeral pursed his lips. His fingers clenched from behind him.

"What we can do is to move forward," Elred crossed her arms. "And what I'm going to say to Mom, I will say to you, instead. Before it's too late again."

Zeral opened his mouth but Elred plunged ahead. "I'm sorry if you're ever hurt about what I did or am doing. I'm sorry if I tarnished the Valkalin name. I'm sorry if you think I'm the one who got Mom killed," she took a deep breath. "I'm willing to atone for these sins. I know Mom already stripped me of being the heir to the throne so tell me what I have to do to make it right with you."

Cirasa blinked. Zeral remained still. A beat passed between them.

Finally, Zeral averted his gaze from the tree and exhaled. "Anahel didn't remove you from being an heir to punish you," he said in a hushed tone. "She did it because she saw the gravity of the situation we were in when the Sovereign charged up at doors demanding your head. She knew she had to use the Glass Mountain's reserves and when she dies, the burden will pass on to you."

Elred didn't dare breathe as Zeral cleared his throat. "She didn't want to pass the burden of being the Monarch to any of you," he glanced at Cirasa. "That's how she loved you two."

Zeral turned to Elred again. "So don't go thinking your mother hadn't a plan to protect Helinfirth," he clenched his jaw. "She just had it the wrong way by thinking she has to do it alone."

A tear slipped out of her father's eyes and dropped silently into the marble steps. "You did good, Elred," his voice cracked. "Even when you made mistakes along the way, you did good."

Wells of emotion exploded over Elred. Even when she's already in her eighties, she still felt like a child. Especially, when her father threw his arms around her in a shaky embrace. Cirasa joined in soon after.

Elred raised her eyes up at the heavens again and wondered if her mother could see this. All their lives as a family, they lived without showing affection for each other. She hated how it would take someone's death before they realized what really mattered and what really was missing from their relationships.

She hated it so much she whispered an oath to the night breeze. A promise telling the stars she would use this second life given to her to cherish everyone who had been with her. To live without regrets and finally, to love her family.

"That reminds me," Elred sniffled as he pulled away from the hug. "Where's Savel and Reza?"

Zeral shrugged. "They're in your bunkers along with the other children and non-warriors," he turned to a random direction then back at Elred. "He should be coming to you any time soon."

"Certainly took his time, though," Elred muttered. Then, she strode towards Cirasa and threw an arm around his shoulders. "I also heard Rassy, here, scored himself a girl."

Cirasa's cheeks flushed and attempted to push Elred off him. "Wha—get off!"

Their father raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"We're still figuring it out," Cirara whispered. His volume decreased at every word.

"Ooooh, what about that brazen confession in the cell, hm?" Elred prodded her brother's side and he flinched.

"Stop it," Cirasa slapped Elred's hand away. "That's...nothing. It's the war jitters. Nothing."

"Tell me what happened," Zeral said.

Cirasa reddened further. "Elred, don't you dare—"

Elred told their father. By the time she finished, Zeral's lip was curling at the sides. It had been so long she had last seen her father smile. "Am I bound to expect grandchildren soon?"

"Dad!" Cirasa's voice echoed against the Imperial Palace's empty corridors. "I don't even know if it's going to work. She's a varichria, for Hexen's sake!"

Zeral blinked. Elred did, too. Now that she thought about it...

Instead, their father turned back to the tree. "A war brought us to a new age. Perhaps, it's high time this changes too."

"You think so?" Elred lowered her arms to her sides. "It wasn't going to be a problem at all for you?"

Zeral snorted. "What use am I going to be if there's already something else inside them?" he said "Xanthy brought forth not just an era of change. She ushered in a time of unity, peace, and most important of all, hope. I think it's time I believe in that child."

Elred hummed. It had been so long she once found Xanthy wandering the Commons in Cardina. Xanthy was no longer a girl who was scared of making choices. That girl was the freaking Virtakios and the only one who didn't rely on prophecies.

Elred admired that about Xanthy. She was so bent on paving her own way to the point where she carved around a prophecy that promised her doom. That's what Elred aspired to become...someday.

She glanced at her father and at Cirasa before raising her eyes to the heavens once again. This world she was now seeing, this ground she was standing on, and this moment she never imagined would happen, she owed it all to Xanthy.

Elred wished this moment lasted forever.