"My answer is firm: No."

The words were controlled, and powerful, and sang through the sunlight room with a dark tune. They had come from the behind the Elysian Hoplite helm of a great giant of a man in silver armor. All others around him, in their various robes of state or bejeweled armors looked all too small by comparison. One of their number, the man who had been the subject of the hard no, shifted in his seat.

"Please Marshal Abram, if you deny my request: the people of my county will starve."

"I said no to providing aid to you Count Marquet, not to aiding your people."

Marquet, as well most of the assembly in the council chamber, were stunned.

"What does that even mean my lord?"

"A simple truth actually: You have failed in your duties as Count of Lotus Stand, and thus you are being removed."

The dames and lords around the circular table muttered among each other. This was a bold move, to strip a noble of their title and lands. But none of the council said a word in audible tone, or at least they tried to. But very little escaped Marshal Abram Xian, The Silvered Fiend. And he heard every word of horror, approval, and intrigue directed towards his decision. His eyes though, those strange catlike eyes that were clear signs of the demonic heritage he proudly wore, did not waver from Count Marquet's trembling form.

"You are by no means a cruel man, nor an idiot. But ruling is not for you, as was the intention of your predecessor."

"My uncle? What do you mean? You dare slan-"

"Your Uncle was one of those peers executed for treason against The Crown in the service of Taiyang. It is only by the graceful spirit Leo's people and loyal peers that any member of his family succeeded him."

Abram took a book from his side of the table and handed it to a small gryphon, about the size of a cat, which was perched on his chair. The young bird was of white tiger fur with a black beak with dark wings, and though he was but recently charged from the nest, this little creature was strong enough to fly and carry the sizable tome to Marquet. The magic creature then flew back to his guardian, and received a gift of cured meat from Abram hand. As the gryphon happily ate its reward, Marquet opened the book to a where it was marked and read it. As he did so, the young count's face became sad, and then despairing.

"He thought I was a fool...he left me his lands because...because he knew I'd ruin them...by Ra I'd ask how I could have been such a fool but I'm holding the answer at this moment."

Abram lifted his pet gryphon back to his perch and then took stock of the former count Marquet. The poor man was despondent, perhaps even broken. But Abram had prepared for this.

"I realize the hardship you are enduring at this moment. But I have talked with Her Majesty, and she has agreed with this proposal: In return for surrendering your holdings without resistance, we are willing to finance the remainder of your education in medicine."

"Truly?"

"Of course. You might not have been the best administrator but you are a good man, and Her Majesty does not wish you to be put on the streets without means."

Marquet was overjoyed.

"I've longed to resume my studies again...very well. I humbly forfeit my lands to the care of the Queen and her Marshals."

Abram nodded.

"You have made a good choice master Maquet, your orders as well as the school you're transferring into are awaiting you at the door."

"You chose a school for me?"

"Yes: Kinfield University."

"But that's...that's the most prestigious school in Eastern Leo...I don't know what to say except thank you my lord."

"Thank me by doing as we've agreed to. Go on my friend."

Marquet bowed and smiled, rushing out of the room and picking up his orders in only a few motions. Once the door closed back on him, the council went to other business. It had only been two months since the attack on Ulq by Taiyang, and the violence had not stopped. Though their vanguard force had been repealed, and the power of the Emperor himself thwarted, the Imperial war machine was not stalled. Skirmishes along the border were increasingly common, and there were already sightings of Imperial naval scouts at the seas.

Yet thanks to intelligence that Abram had brought to the Queen herself, those traitorous who had thought to sell out to Taiyang had been swiftly isolated and put down by the Royal Mobile Corps. Thus preventing a civil war from erupting in the middle of a full one. In the time after this pruge, Abram had been serving with distinction as the Queen's new Marshal Adjudicus. A Marshal assigned to any particular sector but going to and from where he was needed. Most of the court was happy to have him, including those in this very council room.

But as the meeting came to a close, one individual who defied the trend stuck around...another the Marshal of the East: Earl Wellesley. A biracial man of elven and human descent with the straightforward and uncompromising bearing of a career soldier: Earl Wellesley was something of a legend for his skill at warfare both martial and political, and Abram had learned very quickly that these rumors were not exaggerations.

Still though, Abram was the Silvered Fiend, and hero of the first battle against the Taiyang offensive. He had no obligation to Wellesley. So he made a show of packing up his materials and tending to his pet gryphon while Wellesley stared at him with blue, jewel like eyes. Not a word was spoken, until finally, Abram made ready to leave and Wellesley called out to him.

"A grand choice. Sending the boy to Kinsfield I mean."

"I've seen Marquet's old school records, he certainly qualifies for the the university."

Wellesley's face retained a friendly quality, though his eyes also kept a very intense anger.

"Indeed. I can't think of anyone who would fault your for your patronage."

"The Queen's patronage."

"Of course. The fact that Kinsfield is one of the few universities that hasn't employed the new Demonic Arts exams and regulations that you've championed is sheer coincidence I'm sure."

Abram finally turned back, while his gryphon had a big frown on its face.

"You know, gryphons are actually rivals to dragons in intellect. This one is a bit of a late bloomer though. That's what the keepers at the aviary told me."

"Are you trying to make a point?"

"Marshal Wellesley, an Albino Gryphon only comes into its own when its life is in danger. But this one is still just a child, much like Marquet. There is no need to break its innocence, just so I can gain some advantage."

"Is that so? I had no idea you were such a humanist, Silvered Fiend."

"I've do not abuse children and innocents Wellesley. So why do you dog me about this?"

Wellesley walked forward, not coming even close to Abram's height but still managing to seem equal in measure, if only just.

"I do not know what honey words or hellish sorcery you used to worm your way into the Royal Court, but I know you for what you are: poison. Every turn you take within Leo is a killing blow on its dignity and sacred nature."

"Not very tactful words your grace."

"I save tact for people. Not monsters."

Abram simply smiled behind his helm.

"So fanaticism with some touch of bigotry. But then again it might be deserved. I've done very little to break demonic stereotypes, heh."

"I have your meaning Marshal Wellesley."

"I'm sure you do."

Confident that he had made his point, Wellesley walked out of the council room, and straight into his son: Connor.

"Connor? I'm so glad to see you but...What are you doing here son?"

"It's good to see you too father. I'm here for my job."

"Job?"

"Well, I'm a squire in the Knights of the Imperial Flame, Marshal Abram's order."

"What?"

Abram walked up to the father and son, keeping his tone friendly and warm.

"Indeed, one of my best students recruited him."

Connor, a lean boy with more elven features then his father, couldn't help but blush a little.

"Yes. Dame Aurora saw me in the recent tournament while I was helping the other squires and thought I could make something of myself."

Earl Wellesley's eyes were like stone, and his face kept a rigid and unnatural smile.

"That's wonderful news son. It does me proud to know that I raised such a self-starter. Perhaps though, you might wish-"

"Oh no father. I've already sworn an oath to serve at her side, she's even training me to fight."

Earl Wellesley nodded.

"I see. Excellent. Well, I shall keep you no longer...well done, Marshal Abram."

With that, Wellesley marched off with barely controlled rage in his steps. Connor himself looked after his father, until the older man disappeared through the winding hallways of demon steel. The boy then turned towards Abram.

"Do you and my father not get along? Um...Marshal?"

"Authority is a difficult thing, especially when you share it with others. You father and I are just having trouble figuring out how to do that."

"You're always so diplomatic my lord. How do you manage it?"

Abram himself had wondered about this many times. He was a hulking brute in combat so why did he "play the game" when it came to politics? And why did he play it so casually? No matter the time or place, Abram always came up with the same answer.

"I cheat you see. Being a demon grants one a few benefits, such as natural power and life...and that renders danger somewhat moot. I am diplomatic because I have no reason not to be. There is not much that actually threatens me, nor is there much that beckons me to take it. I have what I want, so I need not beg, kill, or crave for more."

"Was it always that way?"

Abram shook his head.

"Oh no. I've grown a bit in the past few months, and perhaps there's still more to do. At any rate, what brings you here Connor?"

Connor stood at attention.

"Dame Aurora ordered me to present you with a request...we'd like to accompany you on your next mission, should you receive one. My mistress believes it would be a good experience for me, as well as a chance for her to-"

"Earn prestige, yes...Well, I will think on this request. You may go now."

Connor saluted and then walked off in a crisp military fashion, it was reminiscent of the same walk his father favored on the old man's better days. Abram smiled at that and then walked back to his personal office, and marveling at the fortress that he had created.

"Perhaps I was being a bit ostentatious..."

The Citadel of Jadefall was Abrams' personal castle, and possibly his greatest achievement. He had planned it's construction far in advance. For after the battle of Ulq, Abram had his knights gather all the armor, weapons and cannons of the Taiyang soldiers that were defeated during the battle. He then used his powers as a Demon of the Forge to absorb the materials into his mystic forge, where dwelled all his materials and weapons and designs. When he was being dubbed a Marshal of the crown, he was given the chance to choose a castle of his residence. Fo it was from there that he would execute his duties. Amidst the anticipation and scorn of his fellows, Abram pointed towards the skies above the royal palace itself and said:

"I need not take anything from the people or the peerage. For I have made something of my own."

Emerging from the clouds was a massive floating pyramid of silver and blackened steel. Not quite as large as the royal palace of course but certainly greater than any mere frontier castle. Queen Isabella herself knew Abram's exact intent and had taken great pains not to laugh at the disgrace of her many rivals and some incompetent vassals.

Abram now commanded the skies itself, that would be his holding. And in his role as Marshal Adjudicus, he could move about easily without having to bother with road tolls or even deference to the many barons and counts that any other noble of Leo had to bow to. He was an independent knight with no master but the Queen. The fact that the fortress was made from the steel of fallen enemy soldiers was just icing on the cake.

Jadefall would be a constant reminder of Leo's ability to win, and the man who could deliver such a win. The interior was far more regal than Abram was comfortable with though, but he knew its necessity. He hosted duchesses, foreign delegates, and all manner of military brass...so that required making an impression. Violet carpets, magical torchlight, and even temperature regulation within the walls of the citadel were all present.

Arcane powered farms and food production facilities that provided fresh food and drink. Originally, Abram had used the souls of defeated Taiyang mages to power such things. But when he had the clout and staff, he employed (fairly and legally employed) several mages, warlocks and even two wizards to operate the facilities.

"It wouldn't do for one of her Majesty's favored to use the unwilling souls of the defeated to power his own ambitions...people might get offended, heh."

When he finally reached his quarters, a simple room with a brown carpet, a pristine office space at its front and a terminally messy bedroom and well-kept bathroom behind a single door, Abram sent his gryphon to it's little nest on the shelves. The Silvered Fiend then promptly collapsed into the chair on his desk and let out a sigh.

"Politics..."

Abram had always enjoyed outwitting his opponents, and humiliating them. But ever since it have become a career for him, the exercise had become tedious. He had always been able to kill his enemies after humiliating them. Now that he was a "hero", such actions weren't really an option...not for all of them anyway.

"And it would have made Atma unhappy..."

He still thought about her at times. That morning in the ruins of Ulq, holding his dying sister Atma in his arms, just barely reconciling, and then watching her evaporate into eternity. He had promised her that he would become better, so he would be. It wasn't easy, but Abram had ways to deal with that. He looked at the mirror that was stacked above his desk on the wall to his left, whispered a few words, and then the glass of the mirror began to distort.

"I wish I could see Evangeline up close, and soon."

The mirror then righted itself, showing a clear image of Evangeline. Her bright blonde hair caressed over lovely featured face and added further shadow to her black eyes. Some people were scared of such a gaze, but Abram always found it comforting.

"Hello my love."

"Hey Abram. I'm surprised you had any time to talk today. How was the meeting?"

"I'll talk about what happened soon, but how is your day so far?"

Evangeline shrugged her shoulders.

"Still sifting through students the academy. We've got lots of veteran magicians who know what they're doing when it comes to being a warlock. But unfortunately we also have a lot of pissed off teenagers who just want mess with their parents and exes."

"Sounds frustrating. If you'd like me to get you another assignment-"

"Don't you dare. You have more important things to do. Besides, I volunteered for this."

Abram nodded, but was still a little sad about the situation.

"I'd like to see you though. I'd like to have you here."

Evangeline smiled.

"I'll be back, don't worry. Besides, I would only trust our own doctors to help with this anyway."

"Help with wha-...Wait, are saying-"

Evangeline stood up a little and showed the first signs of her belly starting to swell.

"Yep, looks like you're going to be a dad and I'm going to be a mom...holy crap, I'm going to be a mom...."

"When did you find this out? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Hey I've never been pregnant before, I don't know...but I just found it out a while ago. I'd been having these weird cravings and my moods been off a little so I asked one of the healing clerics to check me out. And he found two little ones in my belly. One boy and one girl."

Abram could hardly stay in his seat.

"I'm flying there right now."

"Abram..."

"I want to see you. I want to see them!"

"They're still cooking Abram, be patient."

"I'm coming to see you, I coming to see the children and that's final...the Marshal of the crown commands it."

Evangeline laughed.

"Alright then my lord. I await your gallant arrival."

"This is wonderful, I'm so-"

The mirror began to distort again, and Evangeline's voice started to crackle out.

"Abram? Are you alright?"

"Someone else is trying to hail me. It's most likely the queen."

"You better get on that."

"I will call you back promptly, I promise."

Evangeline blew a kiss, waved goodbye, and then disappeared from view. The mirror distorted even further, and then refocused.

"Good afternoon Abram."

"Afternoon your Majesty."

Reflected in the mirror was Queen Isabella Caspianus. She looked every inch the royal presence and beheld Abram with intelligent and draconic blue eyes.

"You've been busy with Earl Wellesley."

"We've had a few conflicts. But I think the situation has been resolved."

"He actually hailed me a few moments ago. He said that you were holding his son hostage."

"I'm afraid young Connor is a hostage of a different kind. He's fallen victim my old student, Dame Aurora. In the way that impressionable young men do when they meet forceful women."

That got a small chuckle from Isabella.

"I see. But have they-"

"I'm certain they haven't yet. Connor is very much the young chivalric gentleman. And Aurora, though young by elven standards, is still very much focused on the passions of war rather than those of the heart. I doubt she'll be interested in anything of "that" sort for some time."

"You have a grip on the situation then?"

"I've done my best."

Isabella smiled, it was strange. The way she looked at Abram. He had promised to be the one thing she wanted in life, a subordinate who would be unafraid, and perhaps even an equal. Thus far he hadn't disappointed, but the growing favor she showed him was...worrisome, to the Silvered Fiend. Not because it was unwelcome, but because he was beginning to like it. The Queen was of prodigious mind, an acute charm, and was certainly beautiful in the more conventional sense. Who could possibly resist such person? Well, being devoted to someone just as unique was certainly a benefit. And the knowledge that Isabella was devoted to the state and the game of ruling more than anything else was a big bucket of Ice Water. Most importantly of all though was Abram's own past experiences.

"I will never let infatuation enslave me again."

He kept his tone respectful, and friendly.

"Do what do I truly owe the honor Your Majesty? You've always called with a task."

Isabella's gave a half smile, perhaps out of some disappointment, and then grew serious.

"I need you to take that pyramid of yours and strike out at Taiyang."

"So soon? I haven't seen any troop movements, and our lines are spread thin at the moment."

"Which is why a mobile and heavily armed task force is needed. The Empire of Taiyang is vast and the recent internal troubles we've had, though mitigated, are keeping us from mobilizing a strong counter attack."

Abram's fingers wrapped on the chair, and he took her full meaning.

"You want this to be the prelude for a counter attack."

"No, a full invasion."

That surprised Abram, and his demonic eyes widened.

"That's very ambitious."

"We're not prepared yet of course, but we will be in the coming months. In the meantime we need someone to ravage the Taiyang infrastructure to keep them off balance and thinned. We've already contracted several privateers to raid their shipping."

"I see. What about our own shores? I've heard reports of bandits attacking the countryside, some of them lead by vampires."

"I'm seeing to that right now. Many factions believe that we are weakened, The Crown needs you to prove them wrong."

Abram nodded.

"As you wish your Majesty. Do I have a target?"

"The coast of Fuji. We've received intelligence from our allies in the Dantean Republic that there is a massive shipment of Tengu Meteor Steel being sent out."

"Intel from the Dantean Republic? Can we trust the source?"

"The Dantean's thrive off of free trade. The last thing they want is for Taiyang to steam roll over the other nations and set up their traditional regulations."

Abram became concerned.

"They still trade with the empire though, why put that at risk?"

"You suspect a trap?"

"I do. I'll of course follow you command happily, but going behind enemy lines with only a small force on the intelligence of profiteers has me...concerned."

"That's why it has to be you. You and your knights are the only force that could succeed in such a mission."

Abram chuckled at that.

"And we're one of the few orders without an abundance of family and domestic ties. We're the closest thing to politically disposable that you have."

Isabella shrugged.

"That's what comes with being a "new man" Marshal Abram."

"I understand...well, I'll be cautious. And just to be safe, I'll empty Jadefall of all my guests and non-essential colleagues, quietly of course."

"A wise move. Also, the Magis Eques have requested involvement in this mission." Abram's eyes narrowed.

"They've sent Barbara Corsange haven't they?"

"They have, she's one of the few people they know who can beat you, and who's not occupied with other missions."

"Of course there's more like her...Where do I pick her up?"

"She's coming to you."

Abram rolled his eyes.

"Of course she is. Well, I will get right to it then."

"Good, I'm counting on you Abram."

The mirror fizzled after that, and Abram immediately called Evangeline again.

"How did it go Abram?"

"I have a new mission, and It's going to be with "Babs."

Evangeline's eyes sunk.

"Well that sucks...where are you going?"

"On a suicide mission behind enemy lines, you know, the kind of mission that only "the most heroic" go on...I'm sorry but I'll have to delay seeing you, just for a little while."

"It's fine Abram, you've always made your visits count."

Abram raised an eyebrow?

"Have I now?"

Evangeline smiled and rolled her eyes.

"God, just like a man. Not that I mind that...come back to me, alright?"

"I always do. See you soon my love."

"Goodbye Abram, I love you."

The mirror returned to its traditional form after that, and Abram stared into his restless and disappointed eyes. He didn't like this mission. There were too many unaccounted variables. The Danteans were not a warlike people, but they had certainly not survived on charity . What reason did they have to back the weaker power in this war? None...

"And then there's the death knight."

There weren't many people that Abram couldn't overpower, and even less who could actually beat him. The fact that a vengeful knight of death was on this short list did nothing to improve the Silvered Fiend's demeanor. He wondered if perhaps she was here to assassinate him, but remembered the words they exchanged after Ulq. They wouldn't come to blows, not on a whim at any rate.

With that in mind, Abram began to broadcast general orders to the many spirit knights within Jadefall. The Silvered Fiend had contracted with each one of his deceased companions, and his steadily growing psionic potential allowed him to easily communicate with all of them. It barely took an hour for all non-essential personnel, guests of state, and fellow members of Leo's High Command to be teleported from the fortress and to the nearest Wizard families.

Abram had recently entered into an agreement with several of the more powerful wizard families to establish a budding teleportation network, and it was working. Even the troublesome Earl Wellesley had left, though Abram himself had to walk down to the dimly lit teleportation deck, carrying his gryphon with him, and talk to the old bastard.

"This mission, which on Her Majesty's' orders, is too dangerous to risk two marshals. You are needed here at home."

"If something happens to my son-"

"It will not, now leave."

That last line was not delivered with Abram's usual courtesy. But Wellesley took the hint, and teleported away from Jadefall. This was not nearly as much of a relief as Abram had hoped for.

"Now I have to babysit his brat, and tend to the Death-"

"Marshal Abram! There's someone at the front gate. A great and statuesque giant of a woman covered head to toe in-"

Abram held up his hand to silence the enthusiastic messenger.

"I know. Please save the poetics for another time private."

"Of course sir." The private, named Gibbons, brought a salute to his brow and then tried marched off. Abram actually noticed something about him.

"Where were you born Gibbons?"

"Right here in Leo sir. My mother emigrated from Taiyang, to avoid the tyranny of the Gold Dragon Emperors."

"A very well-rehearsed line, you're a new recruit aren't you?"

"Yes my lord, and I hope to serve with distinction."

Abram stood a little straighter, and looked at the young man in front of him.

"Would you mind taking your helmet off?"

"...Of course, if you'd just give me a moment sir."

Abram saw Gibbons reach up and try to take his helm off by putting his hands to the front and back rather than lifting it off at the sides. Strange as that was, it confirmed Abram's suspicions, and he knew that what he had seen had been no mistake.

"Don't bother taking it off anymore."

"Um, why my lord?"

"I don't want you to disturb the hair-needle poking over your brow."

At this, Gibbons slid his hand off said brow and tore the needle from its place. It flew straight towards Abram, who simply conjured a shield and blocked the projectile. The small metallic fiber clattered to the ground and then dissolved into a puddle of corrosive metal, which ate away at the carpet but then fizzled out once it hit the demon steel. Before Gibbons could run away, Abram conjured multiple chains which burst from different rifts and entangled the traitorous private. When this was done, two metal clad knights came in from the hallway and awaited Abram's command.

"Take this man to the dungeon, and make sure he gets there in one piece."

The knights saluted Abram and then took Gibbons from his chains (which disappeared once the Knights had Gibbons in hand) before walking off to execute their commander's orders. Abram took a look at the remaining residue and burn marks on the floor, and identified it as a more domestic brew of alchemical make.

"I've seen this used in construction projects...there's no way this could have killed me, and a Taiyang agent would know this. Was this a personal vendetta then?"

Abram put such thoughts aside for now, and then went towards the front entrance of the pyramid. To his complete lack of surprise, a lone figure stood there, surrounded by his knights and warlocks. It was Babs, and by now the sight of her flawless auburn hair streaming over the shoulders of her black skull mask and plate was an old sight. He never could get used to her height thought. She wasn't as tall as he was, but only by a bit. He called out to his soldiers.

"Enough gawking: get back to your posts."

They didn't need to be told twice, though a few of the assembly kept their eyes on the Angel of Anubis until they left the room. The soldiers and warlocks had all contracted with Abram to avoid Death, so having one of its collectors here was not a comforting thought. The Silvered Fiend walked up to Dame Barbara, who was holding onto a few travel packs, and took her measure.

Nothing visibly different had befallen her since Ulq. That skull mask still starred up at him with no betrayed emotion. But Abram had seen the amethyst eyes that hid behind that mask. He knew the hatred that bore down on him even at this moment. But he had come far since their last encounter, and they both had a job to do.

"Your quarters are in the east wing, my gryphon will guide you. Make what preparations you need and then come to the command deck. We'll begin there."

Babs nodded and then headed towards the direction of her quarters, accompanied by the flying baby gryphon, without saying a word. Abram was perfectly comfortable with that, as he didn't want her to accompany him on this next excursion. Once the Death Knight was was gone, he immediately went to the dungeons.

They were not as stereotypically dark and dingy as the dungeons of any other castle. In fact the dungeon was a sterile and polished environment of that same demon steel that composed the rest of Jadefall. Once there, Abram noted the empty cells, and was proud that his standard protocols had been carried out.

"In the event of an assault mission, all prisoners of value or minor infraction are teleported to the nearest military outpost. All non-valuable prisoners or criminals of a capital infraction are dispatched right here."

Abram had no intention of facing a prison riot in the middle of a full scale battle, but much to his satisfaction, there was one prisoner in a single cell: Gibbons. He hadn't been roughed up at all, and had adopted a more defiant stance and attitude even as he was chained and suspended from the ceiling of his cell.

"So, this is how true nobility treats it's captives. Is that it?"

Abram looked at Gibbons with his demonic and cat like eyes, and after one scan, the Silvered Fiend went into his assessment.

"Are you related to a member of the Imperial Flame?"

Gibbons seemed surprised.

"So, you recognize the blood of those you've killed? Is that it? Is that what demons do?"

"No. You lack the training to be an agent of Taiyang, and your chosen method to kill me was of a domestic mixture. Which means you lack the proficiency and resources for a more professional mixture, yet went forward anyway. Which means not only were you single-minded in your goal of killing me, but wanted to keep it secret from more proficient spell casters who might be in my pocket. You concealed your motives, trusted only in yourself to prepare the murder weapon, and did not deviate from your course. Therefore: this was a personal vendetta."

"Yet you do walk about and behave in a convincing military manner, and the transfer orders I received from your commander were legitimate, and also said that you were a raw recruit. That indicates that you received a posting here either through glowing recommendations from friends or have name that is worth respecting. You are not noble, so that leaves knightly and military orders. Which combined with your proficiency in the military lingo and mannerisms despite your neophyte status leaves little doubt as to your status as an "army brat."

"Given all that and the fact that no Leo recruiter would accept a soldier with blood ties to the Taiyang Military, it is safe to assume that you are here to avenge the death of someone from the Imperial flame. As they are the only military organization to have suffered some injuries at my hands in recent memory."

Gibbons gulped, marveling at the reasoning, but still trying to keep a defiant front.

"Good to know that our Marshal has the time to jumble a bunch of esoteric jargon into some bull crap-"

"Tell me who I killed."

"My brother. You killed my brother: Harold."

Abram thought on this, for her knew the knight in question. Harold was from Strumhanden, and had been a strange sort. He was shorter human man with red hair and light skin tone and had sported a friendly if quirky demeanor. Abram distinctly remembered that Harold liked to sew clothes out of spider silk, and had even kept a large (albeit contained) nest of the creatures that he tended to and cultivated. But there was another issue. And in answer to it, Abram raised a gauntleted hand.

"Harold! I know you're watching, come in and talk to your brother."

From the walls emerged a humanoid construct of liquid metal. It twisted about and then solidified into a unique form as it walked forward: that of Harold in his plate armor. His basso voice came out from beneath the great helm.

"Gibbons..."

Gibbons, who was now fuming from his suspended position, now shouted in anger and some terror.

"That thing is not my brother! It is an abomination."

Harold looked to the ground, obviously hurt by his brother's words, and obviously familiar with them. Abram turned to his knight.

"Explain."

Harold stood at attention, and the relayed his tale.

"After you gave your loyal knights new metallic bodies, I was...still afraid. Many people in Leo would view what you did as dark magic."

"Which it is."

"Yes...but I was just happy to be alive, and in a body that could still feel sensation. But I knew my family would be harder to convince so I...I just wrote to them. Finally, at mistress Evangeline's recommendation, I went to see my family. And to my surprise they were very accepting and even happy to see me alive. My mother, my father, my sister...they were all happy...all except Gibbons, my little brother."

Gibbons screamed out again.

"Mother didn't run from Taiyang just so she could breed cowards. You should have been brave enough to move on. Instead, you did this to yourself. You're just a ghost in a tin can."

"I did it so I could see you all again. You're my family, I love you all."

"You are a coward, and the puppet of a demon. If I had the power, I'd kill you right now."

Harold looked grim at this point. He was clearly hurt by his brother's rage, but he also knew what would come if it. Because Abram's gaze had not shifted from the Harold this entire time.

"Why did you not tell me that your brother had joined my staff?"

"I-I was hoping to reason with him. And you have to believe me, I had no idea that he'd go so far."

"I believe you Harold, but that doesn't change the fact that he tried to kill me and by extension all the rest of your sisters and brothers in arms."

Harold hung his head.

"I know my lord, and I know what will come of it."

"Good, then take care of it."

Harold's glowing eyes shot up to Abram and were filled with horror.

"No, please don't-"

"You let him on the ship, he is your brother, and your office is the execution of the law. His sentence is your responsibility."

Harold looked up at Abram with still pleading eyes, and received only coldness in return. There would be no argument. So Harold took his halberd from his back, and opened the cell door. Gibbons was cocky as ever.

"So, the puppet wants justice? Maybe revenge? Well guess what, I'm going to the gods now, where I'm meant to be. And you? You'll just be a hollow nothing for the rest of time."

Harold said nothing after that, and after a few silent seconds, he made a cutting motion with his halberd, and beheaded his brother. The head clattered to the floor with a single thump, and was followed by quite a bit of blood. Abram saw the sorrow that was enveloping Harold, even from outside the cell. So he did his best to mitigate the damage.

"I am sorry for your loss."

"I know my lord, and I know it had to be done."

Abram took a few moments to regard Harold. The ghostly knight was in a tenuous state right now, and would need to be carefully tended to.

"Harold, you've been through a gruesome trial. And I wouldn't begrudge you the chance to rest from it. So you are relieved from your duties as sentry until you feel fit to return to your post."

Harold nodded.

"Thank you my lord. May I...may I be alone with my brother for a moment?" "

You may give him a funeral and cremation during our journey, should you desire to do so."

"Thank you my lord, I will...I will not waste your generosity."

"I have taken much from you already, this is all I can give back. Go about your work then."

The Silvered Fiend left the dungeons after that, and could hear fair cries of sorrow from behind him as he turned the corner away from the dreary place.

"Justice...was what I did justice? It certainly saved my crew, my knights. And I had to make Harold do it, it was his naiveté that allowed Gibbons to make it as far as he did. To hell with all this moralizing, I have a job to do."

So off the Silvered Fiend marched towards the command deck, and towards his next mission.