It wasn't supposed to be possible to find an absconditus who is surely looking for them, but there is a "human" shadow leaning against one of the tent walls. This "man's" wavy brown hair is long, but not long enough for the ends to reach his trousers, which are the same colour, and it falls a little over his face, which has serene features. His skin is as pale as if he had never seen the sun, as light as his shirt, which is covered by a cloak with a dark greenish tint. From his clothes, it's easy to deduce that this absconditus is a member of House Eyrwisdom.

As soon as he sees him, Arthur's eyes light up. He gets up and runs over to Aedan, who greets him with a caress of his hair.

— How is your adventure going, my son? — his voice is gentle and deep, as cosy as a tender fireplace that brings warmth to the relentless winter.

— It's going well, Adriel has taken good care of me.

— Thank you — his gaze shifts to Adriel, who approaches him.

— I wouldn't do anything less for my little child – he smiles — And my kingdom, is it doing well?

— The new king is authoritarian, but he's not critical of our situation.

— I see — he tilts his face slightly downwards, his features more hostile than before, and a red liquid drips from his clenched hands.

— Arthur, why are you hurt? — he says when he notices bandages around his neck.

— Oh, it's nothing — he smiles innocently.

— Did you fall?

Arthur shakes his head in confirmation, but Adriel realises the lie.

— You told me you didn't know how you got hurt — he raises his head, but still looks furious.

— Did I? Didn't I? You know exactly what I said? — and laughs, playing with them both.

— Who... who did this to you? Tell me! I'll kill him!

— Haha — he touches his chin, thinking — It was a ghost! — and gesticulates exaggeratedly, but stops when he looks at his father.

It's as if the darkness of the abyss has enveloped Aedan, he crosses his arms, his eyebrows are furrowed and there is no kindness in his gaze, it has given way to the deepest rage that glows from the soul. His head is tilted slightly so that she can make eye contact with Arthur, who immediately changes his relaxed posture to a serious one.

He had never witnessed his father's fading serenity. His eyes are more open and he tries to breathe properly, but it's as if he's being submerged in the depths of the sea. Arthur fears that his secret has been discovered, in fact, he's already sure that his father has.

– Don't be reckless, we need you. Listen carefully to what I'm about to say and don't forget it. You may be the only one capable of preventing a bloody fate for the Absconditus.

— What's going on? — Adriel asks, while Arthur remains quiet.

— If Arthur prefers, he'll tell you later — he says, gently bringing his son into an embrace.

Adriel, despite his concern and curiosity, doesn't want to continue questioning because he realises that Arthur doesn't want to answer. No Eyrwisdom is used to lying and many of them would rather die than save themselves by deception, and for that to happen, the circumstances have to be extreme. Adriel blames himself for what happened and swears to himself that he will never leave his child alone again.

— Your Majesty — Adriel's attention turns to Aedan, who uttered these words — You've been through a lot, but don't let your guard down. The times ahead will be the most extreme tests, they will prove your character, so be resilient and you will become a great hero. However, don't be careless, any mistake is enough to throw you into the abyss and trap you in the chains of darkness. If you fail to become the hero, you will become the villain before you even realise it.

— Thank you — he says quietly, thoughtful.

— I have to get back to court, I can't let them miss me — before disappearing, he looks at his son — And Arthur, you're a terrible judge, there's no problem judging yourself in the same way you judge others, after all, you deserve another chance too — there's no time for answers because his presence is no longer in the human world.

Immediately, Aedan, the royal chancellor, materialises in a room in a building close to the palace, where he does most of his work. A quiet place with only a desk surrounded by shelves of books and documents that he cherishes and uses to create solutions to the nobility's problems. At the very moment he returns to the absconditus world, Aedan realises that there are two dukes at his door and gives them permission to enter.

— Excuse me, we need your help — Ulloriak is holding up the initiative, because he knows that if he doesn't speak, Diarmuid won't either.

— What's the problem?

— The new king wants us to apologise for our attempt to prevent him from usurping the throne.

— Order letters of apology from each of the houses involved.

— Aedan — says Diarmuid — The king wants us to apologise in person, he demands our presence at the palace within the hour. So... letters won't work. What if he wants to... arrest Ulloriak and kill me? We don't have the option of refusing to go, because that would be like declaring that we're enemies, and if we go, what then? We don't know what to do.

— He's in no position to do anything on that level against you because it will only inspire fear in the hearts of the other dukes and citizens, and such fear will generate an aggressive stance in them, who, feeling threatened, will start a rebellion that will threaten his throne — Ulloriak smiles when he hears it, satisfied, however, it's not satisfaction for his safety because he always rises stronger when he dies.

— Do you have a plan for us?

— Just go and be polite, always maintaining respect and behaving like good subjects.

— Thank you — says Diarmuid, taking Ulloriak's hand to leave.

They bid a polite farewell. And hastily, Diarmuid takes Ulloriak to a secluded spot in the alleys between the capital's countless white skyscrapers.

— Are you ready to go? — he asks, smoothing the strands of his hair that have curled around his horns.

— Yes.

— You seem confident, how can I be confident too?

— Just follow Aedan's advice and I'll do the rest.

— What do you mean the rest?

— The boring bureaucracy and blah blah blah of nobility, complicated things in general.

— Ulloriak, are you thinking of doing something other than the plan? Like trying to kill Damon.

— That would be good — he jokes.

—  No, no, no, you'll just… — he interrupts himself, remembering that his friend can be considered an immortal.

— Diarmuid, don't worry, just leave it to me.

— Does that mean you're going to fight him?

— It's not a good time — he puts his hand on Diarmuid's hair, as if the druid were a child — There's no need to worry if this doesn't bring answers, calm down, I promise I won't let anyone die. We'll meet later, at the palace, you already know what you have to do, so there's no need to think any further, just rest for a while — he smiles, comforting him, and remains by his friend's side, without separating from him before the appointment they both share.

Time passes quickly, but it doesn't feel quick for Diarmuid, the inexperienced duke who inherited his uncle's position almost by accident. It wasn't anyone's plan for him to be a leader because he's not even his father's eldest son or part of the duke's descendants, Aedan's father, however, his cousin just threw the job to him, who received it back from Diarmuid numerous times until they both came to an agreement. It wasn't his intention, but the unfortunate events of life made it so. And to make matters worse, he has to face the problems caused by the fact that an enemy occupies the throne. He sighs, sighs, sighs, looking like a strange being at the palace gate, and only then, after sighing again, does he enter.

The grandiose throne room is intact, its strategic position has allowed it to enjoy such a privilege. Its red carpet is vivid, so vivid that it seems to harbour life, as well as blood, perhaps because the path to the throne always carries blood, or at least Damon's does.

The two friends walk towards the king, without having an upright posture, looking more humble and fragile only because they were forced to. When they approach the throne, they both bow to Okeanós and kneel. Diarmuid is indifferent to this, but Ulloriak hides a fury behind his sweet gaze, preventing it from spilling over.

— Just say what you're here to say — he's relaxed on the throne, without any formality. His voice is lazy and slurred, as if he just wanted to sleep and had no interest in the subject at hand.

— I, the Duke of Eyrwisdom, have come to beg Your Majesty's forgiveness for what my house has done in the past.

— Do you admit guilt?

— Why would he admit guilt for a just act? — asks Ulloriak, standing up and making eye contact with the king.

— How much courage comes only from being an immortal.

— If you want to stop me, go! Do what you like! After all, what could you do against me? Kill me? Imprison me? Torture me? Exile me? Because of my long years of existence, I've been through all this countless times and I wouldn't mind going through it again.

— I realise that there's nothing I can do against you, but the other absconditus don't enjoy the same privilege. I know you don't care about any of this, but I know they would. So... what would you think if your punishment fell on them?

— You'd lose your authority for acting like a tyrant.

— Would I? Everyone already knows I'm a tyrant. Look what I've done to House Hazael, it's in ruins, every member is either dead or on the run, and yet no one has opposed me – he pauses, bored, but calmly continues — Would you rather I started with your friend Diarmuid?

— What do you want from me? — his breathing fails and he falls to his knees, making Damon smile.

— Be my servant and obey me in everything I say, be by my side here in the palace and don't leave without my orders.

— Yes.

— Diarmuid, I accept your request for forgiveness, you may leave my presence — the gentle druid is a little hesitant to leave without his friend — Ulloriak will stay.

The young druid has a worried look directed at his friend, who has his head lowered and his face partially covered by the long brown hair that falls over it. Behind this performance of someone in deep despair, being so bent over that he almost touches the ground, the duke smiles, signalling to Diarmuid that everything is according to his plans.

When Aedan said that any disproportionate punishment of the two dukes could topple Damon's throne, Ulloriak had already planned to irritate the king so that this scenario would come to pass, and the counsellor's speech confirmed his deduction. Despite being wise, the bear duke values the vision of others, perhaps this is his wisdom.

Diarmuid returns to the presence of his cousin, Aedan. He enters the room, compliments him courteously and keeps pacing back and forth, as if he wanted to dig the wood out of the floor with his repetitive footsteps.

— So... — he sighs, as if he's already tired of talking — I followed your instructions, but Ulloriak didn't and he was arrested. Or rather, to be more precise, the king prevented him from leaving the palace without permission, which in practice is the same situation. He also made him his servant, but don't worry, this was Ulloriak's plan. I imagine that he wanted to annoy the king in order to induce an overreaction from him that would result in the displeasure of the population who would start a rebellion, however... in theory, you already knew that this would work, however, why didn't you advise him to follow this idea? Will it go wrong?

— No, I just didn't advise him because I wanted to avoid great sacrifices without first knowing that we'd fail with all the other options, but the duke has no sense of self-preservation.

— And why does it have to be a rebellion? Damon has committed countless crimes and not even a king can get away with it, according to our constitution he's already lost the throne and is condemned to death... House Nanook is military, they have the legal right to remove him from the throne... Why don't they do it? Is Damon that powerful? Can he escape the law?

— I don't know.

— Thank you, now I'll go back to my work — they say goodbye and he walks towards the door, but stops — Do you think Ulloriak's plans are any good?

— He's much cleverer than he looks, even I don't fully understand his ideas.

— Really?

— He holds an unimaginable amount of experience, and naturally, wisdom will be born from it. Although not everyone gains understanding with age, and it is possible to find children who are wiser than the elderly, I know that this is not the case with the duke.

— Thank you, then I needn't worry — and they say goodbye again.