2410 Strilaxis 07, Velpa

An unfamiliar ceiling slowly took shape as Nyxis's vision blurred and sharpened in dizzying patterns when he opened his eyes. Where...?

"Oh, good. I was beginning to think you were not going to wake up," a deep voice gurgled somewhere to his left. By the sound of it, it came from a big man.

Nyxis attempted to sit up. Instead, a sharp pain greeted his gut and his arms, forcing him to plop back into the soft pillow behind his head. "Careful. You were pretty banged up when I found you," the masculine voice said again.

He racked his head as to who that voice might belong to. His mind came up empty. What had even happened before he ended up here? Where was here in the first place? He moved his hands, feeling tight bonds wrapped around his palms spreading up to his wrists. Tiny prickles pinched his skin, urging him to remember what happened last night.

Or was it even last night?

There were a thousand questions in his head but the first one out of his mouth was, "How long was I out?"

His vision cleared enough to make out a bright window a few paces away. So it's not that big of a room. He turned his head, willing the pain pounding in his head to subside. It did nothing but, at least, he was able to see the rest of his surroundings. Apparently, he lay on a hard bench pushed against the wall. Sacks of grains, flour, and other things he wasn't familiar sat in tall stacks in one corner. Two doors stood at opposite sides to Nyxis's left and right.

Plastered in the adjacent wall, a huge furnace burned. Looking at how fresh the firewood was and at the tongues of fire licking their tips, it brought an unpleasant flood of memories he didn't want to remember. The halls of the palace whizzing by him. A woman bearing his mother's face chasing him. Him jumping out of a window just to escape.

The rest after that was nothing but a black wall. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in this room.

It took a while, but after a clatter of utensils and a grunt, the man replied, "A few hours," he said. His back was to Nyxis as he began heaving a sack off the top of the stack. He flopped to the ground, and upon placing the sack between his legs, began undoing the stitches sealing it close. "Thank the gods I found you in whatever dark alley you dropped in," he was saying.

Nyxis gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit upright. A groan escaped his lips without his permission. His hands flailed for a handhold when his world began spinning. Oh, he shouldn't have done that. Strong arms gripped his shoulders and set him against the wall. The heat seeping through his back jolted him awake.

Furloth's friendly face snapped into view.

"Did you..." Nyxis breathed, keeping his attention on the man's dark moustache to avoid falling unconscious. "Did you save me? Why?"

"For Xalim's sake," the man answered. Hearing the name drove a different kind of pain in Nyxis's gut. "I could not leave her friend to die. What happened?"

Nyxis clutched his head with his bandaged hand as the memories finished swirling in his head. He stared at the banadages wrapped around his wrist. Furloth cleared his throat, getting Nyxis's attention. "Broken wrist. Bruised palms. Cuts on the knuckles," the man explained, as if reading Nyxis's questions in his head. "When I found you, you have almost bled to death due to a deep wound on your side. Whatever happened in that castle, it cannot be good."

Mostly because nothing went well for any of them for the last few hours. Rather, make that a few years.

Nyxis blinked, looking down at his body. Two legs. Two arms. Good. The tunic he wore was several sizes too big and was quite itchy. The smell of coal and rancid butter clung into the cloth. Then, he noticed a bright red stain curling from his side. He touched it, stirring a potload of pain in his gut. Was that the cut Furloth was talking about?

He looked at the baker, noting the bigger man's expectant gaze. Nyxis sighed. "I was looking for a way to save Xalim," he started. "So I visited the archives and...well, found out I was not the rightful heir for Cardina. I aimed to tell my mother first before looking for the true heir myself. What I stumbled into the room...told a different story."

"How was it different?" Furloth asked. It wasn't about the Helgase being false rulers. It wasn't even about his daughter.

Nyxis blew a breath. It shocked him when it came out shaky. "My mother has summoned an abominable thing with insane magic. She...she madea deal with it in exchange for more," he paused, deciding to keep several intimate details to himself. Furloth didn't need to know most of the exchange. If others could withhold things from him, he could also do it to them. "Power, I guess. She wanted to have more of it."

"And whatever it was," he continued. "It consumed her. Then, it attacked me. I was supposed to be killed that night. But I did not. Instead, I woke up here."

He met Furloth's dark eyes. Unlike the voice which possessed his mother, his were soft and kind. "I have to save Xalim," he said, edging off the wooden bench despite the pain rigging his mucles. "I know of a way now. I just need to be there."

Furloth wrestled him back to resting against the wall. "Xalim is gone," he said.

Nyxis knitted his eyebrows and shook his head. Tears brimmed from the side of his eyes. "That is not..." he blubbered. "She has to be alive! She could not..."

"I have already accepted her fate," Furloth sighed, letting go of Nyxis's shoulders and stepping away from him. "I have been talking to people who can bring her back. You do not need to do anything, Nyxis. I mean...Your Majesty."

Nyxis froze at the mention of his title. He wasn't even sure if it was his. "H-how long have you known?"

"A long time," the baker answered, mussing his already-messy auburn hair. "I just did not say anything."

"You could have stopped her from associating with me," Nyxis said. "She could have been in more trouble because of me. Why did you not?"

Furloth sighed, running a hand against the back of his neck. "It was because she was a half-blood that she was in danger," he said. "Stop thinking everything was your fault."

But it was. Xalim made it a point to tell him exactly that.

"Who..." Nyxis started. "Who are these people that you are talking to?"

Furloth bobbed his head, turning his attention to the sack of flour propped open against the door. He must have left it there to catch Nyxis earlier. "They call themselves a resistance of some sort," he said. "Most of their operatives are half-blood renegades who were fed up with the purges. They wanted to fight. They want to end the King's reign."

It wouldn't be too long, then. "Do you know a name?" Nyxis asked.

"I have been receiving correspondence from their leader," Furloth said. "She calls herself Vikara Sandiega."

Sandiega? The biggest textile business in the Commons? Was she a half-blood symphatizer? From what Nyxis heard of the sly businesswoman, she didn't look like the type to do that. So what brought forth the change?

"So you do not have to get yourself killed just to save my daughter," Furloth's kind tone made Nyxis look up to the baker. "You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like if you feel like the Palace is not the best home to live at the moment. But I require a price."

Nyxis arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Furloth smiled. "You have to help me sell these pastries."

That seemed easy enough. Nyxis returned the baker's gesture. "That is a deal."

Then, Nyxis killed his amusement and every drop of joy and peace in his system. He switched to a more serious tone. "But first, I have some things to settle."

2410 Strilaxis 09, Briss

Nyxis touched down on the grass covering the Palace grounds. Being back here brought more unpleasant feelings in his gut. Furloth had forced him to stay for the whole day yesterday, flushing down potion after potion down his throat in an attempt to heal his wound.

"It will be a whole week before you can stand upright with that wound," the baker snapped.

Nyxis whipped his potion-brewing knowledge and told the baker to fetch some ingredients. Two vials of some goop he mixed in the back of Furloth's shop later, he was on his way back to the Palace.

He blew a breath and made his way towards the dungeon. This time, he took his sweet time, even startling a few Civil Knights loitering near the shed. There was something off in the air. From his observations, he saw several quivering lips, twiddling fingers, and butts of spears tapping against the grass in off-beat rhythms. What happened?

When he got to Xalim's cell, his heart sank. It was empty. Not a trace of a fierce girl with dark hair to be seen anywhere. He looked around him, at the other cells surrounding him. All of them were empty when they should have been full of purged individuals. Then, his throat constricted as he rushed back up the stairs and grabbed a hold of the nearest Civil Knight he could.

"Where are the prisoners?" he demanded.

The poor man stuttered. "T-they were taken—"

"Taken, not killed?" Nyxis's eyes narrowed.

"Y-yes, Your Majesty," the Civil Knight said.

Nyxis pushed the man away. Taken. Not killed. But taken to where? Why was there suddenly a demand for purged half-bloods? What was going on? Still, relief flooded in his veins. It meant Xalim was alive. Somewhere. Somehow.

What in the stars' names was he supposed to do now?

"You have got some nerve sohwing up here," a familiar voice dripping with acid came from somewhere behind him. The Civil Knights squeaked and edged away. Nyxis turned just in time to catch a fist into his jaw. He stumbled back, his vision blurring. Even through that, Adresin's face was unmistakable.

"Brother," Nyxis breathed. "What was that for?"

"You should have not come back," Adresin seethed. It took Nyxis a while to see that his brother wore a full armor plated with gold. Like how the Civil Knights wore it. When had he gotten drafted. "You should have not come back if you were going to leave me alone!"

Nyxis snapped to attention. "What do you mean? When did I leave you alone?"

"Where were you two days ago?" Adresin said.

Nyxis didn't speak. He was probably bleeding to death in Furloth's house. Something streaked in his periphery and a fist slammed into his other jaw. He took it, forcing his magic to grow cold in his veins.

"Where were you when Mother slitted Father's throat in his sleep?" Adresin drove another blow into Nyxis's arm. "Where were you when she started saying half the trash Father spits?"

"Where were you when my life is over before I know it?!" Adresin finished his tirade by swinging his leg in Nyxis's direction, landing a kick to his wound.

Nyxis doubled over as pain shot to his gut. He staggered away from his brother, clutching his side. His fingers came away red. The sound of a sword being unsheathed rang in the air between him and his brother. He turned to find Adresin heaving huge breaths as he lowered his sword in a stance.

"If you are going to be as useless as you are now," Adresin hissed. "You are better off dead."

Nyxis stared at his brother, at the husk of him left. Of all the things he failed to save, his brother was at the top of the list of what he regretted most. He had been too absorbed about his own worries that he forgot he had a brother who needed saving as much as he did. With everything that happened within their family and between them, was there anything left to be salvaged?

"You are better off dead, you hear me?!" Adresin screamed. Then, he lunged at Nyxis. It was too late now. There was no saving any of them. Everyone was lost in their own goals, their own fears, and their own lives. No amount of Nyxis throwing away himself would change them.

They made their choice so now, Nyxis was going to make his.

His magic flared to the surface, his lips forming the words to a spell he knew to distract but never kill. Light flashed between them. Nyxis casted the same teleportation spell he used to escape his mother, and as he crashed into it, he whispered into the wind, "Goodbye, brother", hoping the wind could take his words to Adresin.

Then, the sword pierced the air where Nyxis had just been.

He dropped into the alley behind Furloth's bakery, startling a colony of cleretis gathered in a mound of discarded food. He turned to the vague direction of the Palace and dared shed a tear or two. Then, he wiped the corners of his eyes and entered the bakery where Furloth was waiting.

Here's to a new life for Nyxis Helgase.