Planning funerals was never fun. With the guard who had died in the infirmary that morning to the Necromancer's Curse and the other guards who had followed suit protecting her when Silas' lackeys attacked, there were a lot of people who had lost their lives in only one day. They deserved to be respected and cherished, not just by their grieving families, but by everyone in the kingdom.

Ilyana had brought it upon herself to help arrange something worthy of their lives — she was the one that caused them, one way or another — yet she had no idea where to begin. What did they enjoy? What sort of funeral would they have wanted? The type of music, flower arrangements, and a place of burial all needed to be decided and she couldn't find anything to present their families with.

Scribbling out her ideas, the princess threw her pencil down on top of her notes.

After washing and changing into a more comfortable gown, Ilyana had wasted no time in heading to the High Table's meeting room, asking a servant to let her father know where she would meet him. The silence that swallowed her in the emptiness of the room made her count the seconds to his arrival. An army was not a quick matter to deal with, but she needed to tell him her sister was alive.

Viviana was alive.

King Mortas walked through the doors and headed straight for his daughter. Instead of taking his seat at the head of the table, he wrapped his arms around Ilyana and pulled her close once more. "I'm going to be completely grey by the end of the year if you keep pulling stunts like this."

She hugged him back, a grin playing tugging on her lips. "Are you not completely grey already?"

"Shut it, you." After messing Ilyana's hair with the top of his hand, he sat down and glanced at her scratched-out notes with a sad smile. "We don't have long before the High Table arrive. I've called another meeting as they've discovered a few things themselves which might be useful to us."

Ilyana turned her notes over so only a fresh plain of white could be seen. "The sorcerer had information for us about the Necromancer's Curse."

"Did he tell you how to break it?"

"Yes, but..." The King waited for her to continue with an encouraging nod. "I don't know if it's something we can follow through with. The curse is only active because there are twin queens of age. That means Viviana has to be alive!"

She watched as her father's expression rose into surprise, a storm-fuelled wave rising before it crashed back down and his features returned to a still calm. Disbelief lingered after the ripples of emotion had passed. "Ilyana, we both saw the aftermath of that assassin's break-in. There's no way your sister could be alive." He squeezed her hand tight. "I knew that sorcerer would only spill more nonsense and lies. I assume he told you to break the curse, one of the twins needs to die?"

The princess nodded, a sole tear slipping down her cheek.

"He told me the same thing when I first discovered he was researching the necromancers in their ruins. Decades alone with nothing but dark magic surrounding him has corrupted his mind. I should have banished him to the Lost Abyss like I had originally planned."

"I don't think he was lying, though. He mentioned Vivi had also visited him today, right before me and Clove turned up. And, in the entrance, we found a bone shard that Morana The Cursed uses as her weapons. I think Morana and Silas have her." It had to be true. They might have been off with some of the smaller details, but there was no other explanation she could think of.

"That's impossible. Your sister is dead. We saw her body, we sent it out on a barge into the Molten Sea." Mortas straightened his posture. "Don't let the sorcerer's lies convince you otherwise."

"But what if she is alive? Somehow. The assassin working for Silas is a necromancer, so she might have something to do with it. Do you not even want to try and find out if she is still alive?" Ilyana's voice wobbled.

The king slammed his fist on the table, rattling everything that rested on its surface. "Silas does not have Viviana in his clutches."

"You talk as if you know something that I don't." The princess scoffed with doubt reverberating in the sound. However, when her father only closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting silence fill the space between them, her confusion grew. "Do you?"

The creak of the meeting room doors interrupted their argument, the members of the High Table flooding in. Each one took their respective seats, yet their presence didn't do anything to extinguish the distrust that had grown between Ilyana and her father.

"What do you know about my twin that I do not?" She stood from her seat, the chair falling to the ground behind her. He couldn't have been keeping information from her, not when it involved the other half of her.

"Ilyana." His voice was stern with an icy harshness frozen around its edge — a tone saved only for the most serious situations. "Either you can sit down and drop this nonsense, or you can leave."

The princess looked around and saw the High Table watching them with surprise and curiosity. Everyone was present and ready except for one person — the man bursting with endless anger which always gifted them with headaches.

After taking a deep breath, Ilyana picked up her chair and sat down. "This conversation isn't over."

It pained her to argue with her father but, lies or not, they couldn't just sit around while Vivi could still be out there. If he wasn't going to search for her sister, she would. She may not have had the army behind her as they followed the king's orders, but she did have something just as powerful. If they would trust her, she would have the eyes and ears of the people of Wyrith. The beginnings of a plan formed in her mind. How could she quickly inform everyone to look out for a woman who looked exactly like her without instilling panic?

King Mortas sighed. "Has anyone seen Arc or know where he might be?"

"From what I can tell, nobody has seen him all evening," Rosil replied as people shook their heads. She adjusted her fighting robes, pulling them closer to fend off the evening chill.

"We'll have to start without him." He cleared his throat, glancing down at some notes he had brought with him. "As you may have become aware, our plans to pursue Morana The Cursed have been delayed due to today's events. There is no need to worry though as the army has been rescheduled to begin their search early tomorrow morning. As well as fortifying the main city, secret patrols will also be heading deep into the Lost Abyss to gain any further intel on the necromancer." The king reached for the pointing stick and tapped the end on the southeast of the island — on the map engraved in the centre of the table.

While they watched Mortas, a few eyes remained on Ilyana. They remained curious about the discussion they had walked in on, desperate to feel the flames of gossip they were missing out on. She met them with a silent, challenging question, asking why they weren't paying attention to their leader.

"Zene, how has the first day of shutting down the docks been?"

"As well as it could be," the sea warrior answered. A new set of armour had been forged and sat upon their shoulders. "There were a few ships that left the port before they could discover the warnings and the sailors onboard lost their lives but, after those incidents, everyone remained docked.

"Leave me the names of those sailors if you have them and I'll see to it that their families are compensated." The king passed them a slip of paper and a feathered quill.

"Of course, Your Highness."

"As Arc isn't here to update us on the front of communications, Cassara mentioned to me earlier that you and your coven have made a discovery about the curse. Is that correct?" Ilyana's father turned to the witch sitting beside her.

"Yes, it is. However, the usefulness of my information may be up for debate." She adjusted the rings on her fingers, making sure they were all straight, before she continued. "You may have heard of a strange sickness travelling around the island and my witches have discovered it's linked to the curse. When one of our own was unfortunately infected with the darkness, we realised that it bore the same essence of magic that the wall is crafted from."

"That is an interesting discovery," Mortas mused. Though, Ilyana knew his fascination was feigned. They already knew that the deaths were linked to the Necromancer's Curse, but they hadn't informed anyone yet. Spreading word that the curse would kill everyone on the island except for Wyrith royalty was something they needed to save as their last resort.

"So all of our problems could be solved if we deal with this curse?" Rosil thought aloud.

"Seems like it," Zene responded, rubbing their hand over their chin.

"That's not all," Cassara interrupted. "Once the curse has killed, the magic it used to disperse the sickness doesn't just disappear. Threads of it remain in the air and they begin to travel."

"To infect more people?" Ilyana questioned. It would make sense. The darkness had killed so many people so far and moving strands could make death quick work. Yet that didn't explain anything about the deaths that she had caused.

The witch shook her head. "Not from what we can tell. The curse steals the life of its victim and takes that energy across the island."

"Do you know a rough location as to where its destination may be?" King Mortas passed her the stick he had used earlier so she could reach the map from where she sat.

"On the west side of the island. Around here." Cassara pointed to the necromancer ruins and drew an illusory circle around them — around the ruins where Ilyana and Clove had been earlier that day. "It all ends up there before the threads of magic fizzle out into nothing. What it's collecting life essence for, none of us are sure. It likely won't be good considering the location.

"I'll have some people investigate," Mortas decided. "Keep your coven and the others researching it too, but don't endanger yourselves. Necromantic magic is not something to trifle with."

"Yes, Your Highness." The witch returned the pointing stick and folded her hands into her lap.

"Does anyone have anything else to add to this meeting? Any information about the curse at this stage is useful." Glances passed between the High Table members, but nothing else was brought up. Without Arc to make remarks about the king's decisions, the meeting could run smoothly. "I won't hold up more of your time then. Thank you for attending again on such short notice."

As people began to filter out, forming an idle line to leave the room, Ilyana met her father's gaze. She knew he meant well. He had grieved the loss of his daughter and his wife, and now she was only opening up those wounds with a freshly sharpened scalpel.

Ilyana stood from her chair and left with the other High Table members, finding Clove waiting outside for her. Her father had his reservations about the sorcerer, but she had no reason not to trust him yet. Turning toward the library with the captain following close behind, a plan turned in her mind.

She was going to search for Viviana and bring her home once and for all.

Chapter Word Count: 2,002
Total Word Count: 45,960