Sorein had been pacing for hours. He couldn't calm his nerves long enough to sit.

Let alone sleep.

A track was beginning to wear into the carpet beneath him, his paranoia worsened by the occasional voices in the hall.

Reading hadn't helped, nothing had.

This trial ate away at his sanity, nestling into his mind. He thought back to the night of his Sealing, the night Iliya knew in her bones something would go wrong but couldn't place it.

He regretted disregarding those feelings so easily, assuming her instincts were scrambled from being alone.

No, Sorein knew this sensation was very real.

A knock at the door locked his spine, a wave of ice running through his veins.

He loathed the fear creeping into him.

"Yes?"

He prayed one of his friends would answer, but his lungs deflated when Ezre opened the door.

The King stood before him with red rimmed eyes, dark circles emphasizing his exhaustion. He'd never seen the man look so disheveled, certainly not with locks of brown hair fraying outward and the buttons undone on his shirt.

Ezre's winded frame blocked the exit, shutting the door behind him as he faced Sorein.

"What do you know of Damien Ravellier?"

Sorein wondered how much coin he could collect from hearing that phrase, but he kept the musing locked up tight.

"You mean the King of Toskapel?"

"Yes."

"As much as anyone else, I suppose. He is a King in title alone who cares about protecting the welfare of his country. Files mention how he raised an army simply to ensure the rest of the world left them alone."

Carefully toeing the line of knowledge, Sorein avoided mentioning how said King might've also written an entire journal to Ezre's granddaughter.

"What else?" he asked.

Sorein furrowed his brows. "What do you mean, what else?"

Ezre raked his hands over his face and into his hair. "We have five minutes, at best. What else do you know, Sorein?"

His golden eyes penetrated the false calm within Sorein.

"She'll kill me," he answered, frowning.

"Half the world is attempting to kill you. It's time to pick a side."

He didn't know it would come to this. His mouth went dry at the mention of it. Someone had demanded a Ritual and put Ezre into a very difficult position.

Sorein swallowed roughly, his throat like sandpaper. "Damien wrote Iliya a letter," he whispered. "It was attached to a journal. And all I know is that after she read it, we went into Nioreir."

Ezre swore. "She opened the vault beneath the Aphyre, didn't she?"

Sorein nodded.

The King's growl was frightening and almost feral. He paced back and forth, stopping a foot from him.

"He's going to ruin everything," Ezre muttered. "He's going to ruin everything and there is nothing I can do–"

"Hang on," Sorein interrupted. "What do you mean he'll ruin everything?"

"My father is chaos incarnate," he hissed.

Sorein froze, blinking. "The King of Toskapel is your father?"

"We have five minutes, don't ask stupid questions."

Suddenly the time Ezre spent around Andrin and Elive made even more sense, not to mention ruling in Seinen's absence. Sorein had never once considered who'd sired the male, only certain his bloodline was also pure.

He couldn't help but admit it explained some things about Ezre's eccentricities.

"He gave her access to everything," Ezre continued, glaring around the room as if he was looking for a place to stick his fist. "Damien told Iliya where to find all of the information about her condition, which means she knew when we went to Azuris."

"Her condition?"

"Again, with the idiocy?" The King snapped. "You witnessed what happened at Solstice, you're observant, well researched. I know for a fact you've asked her about those rings at least once."

Sorein leveled him with a look of lethal calm and sighed. "Explain."

"As I'm sure you're aware, Fae are often born in sets of twins, just like Andrin and Allette. So far as anyone knows, this is because when powerful bloodlines breed, the Mana stored from the event is too much for one entity. However, in this case, due to unknown complications, Iliya absorbed her twin in the womb including her power."

Sorein wasn't certain if he was more concerned than shocked, but he couldn't argue how powerful Iliya was becoming.

"We assumed it was a strange phenomena but none of us expected Iliya to continue absorbing Mana."

"So the other night, at Solstice?"

"Yes," Ezre said. "Her emotions are stronger than the wards and the outbursts have become more frequent, especially since, well..."

"Since I returned," Sorein finished for him, frowning. "Okay, so what's wrong? Doesn't she deserve to know?"

"When we received the diagnosis, several Healer's from the High Council attempted to purify her, but were unsuccessful," Ezre replied. "Destry decided we wouldn't tell her until a cure could be found because..."

He drifted off, looking away from Sorein.

"Because what?"

"Because there will come a day where she absorbs too much Mana and the power will consume her."

Sorein didn't want to consider Iliya's death, he couldn't even process his own. Instead he ignored those raging thoughts and crossed his arms.

"What does Damien have to do with any of this?"

A page went off in Ezre's pocket, interrupting him. When he checked it, the mortified expression set Sorein on edge.

"Natural phenomena have begun around the planet. There are corpses crawling out of the ground in Nynoli and Mana outbreaks in Solraidas." Ezre spoke rapidly as he crammed the small device back in his pocket. "I've never understood Damien's motives, we do not see eye to eye on a great many things, however there is a madness within him. If he wants to speak with Iliya, then we must be prepared for the worst."

"The worst?" Sorein asked, horribly confused. "Toskapel is known for peace, not to mention one of the greatest militia's in the world."

"Something isn't right," Ezre said. "Damien's never involved himself in another country's affairs."

"Perhaps he wants to help."

"Or perhaps he wants to destroy the treaties between each country, we don't know."

He couldn't imagine a Kingdom known for peace intentionally dismantling the world as they knew it, but Sorein only grunted in response. Arguing with Ezre in this state was getting him nowhere, even if he knew more than he was letting on.

Ezre blew out a long breath and shook his head. "I have to go prepare the High Court for their depositions."

Sorein nodded absently, struck by the information the King had unloaded. "Okay."

"The High Court will not currently be submitting to the Citizen's request for a Ritual," Ezre revealed at last. "Not when there isn't sufficient evidence linking you directly to these events."

Sorein's shoulders sagged with relief.

"Continue as you have been, I'll see you in Court."

Ezre left the room, silently closing the door behind him. Shortly after, another knock sounded.

Sorein groaned and walked over to the door. He didn't open it, resting his hand on the handle.

"Who is it?"

"Noah," his friend replied.

He'd had enough surprises for the night.

"She wants to see you," Noah went on.

He froze.

"They'll have my head if I go to the Infirmary."

Noah laughed and opened the door, gesturing for him to follow.

Sorein was surprised by how dark the Estate had become. Candles lit the hallways, reminding him of home.

He wondered if the festival coming to an end meant this was the building's natural state.

"Let's go," Noah whispered. "I'll stand guard outside."

They walked quickly, Sorein practically tripping over himself at the opportunity. With no one in sight they entered the Infirmary.

His friend disappeared into the hallway, providing enough cover for Sorein to creep into Iliya's chamber. Carefully stepping up to her bed, he eyed Rhydian with hesitancy before fully looking at the broken girl before him.

Iliya was a shell, with ghostly pale skin and bloodshot eyes the least of her concern. Tears lined her lashes, threatening to slip off the edge as she stared at him. Pain and fear had married within her gaze as she lifted a shaky hand and took his.

Sorein ignored his pounding heart long enough to squeeze back.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered down their connection.

"For what?"

"Everything..."

He frowned, shaking his head.

Sorein's attention flicked to her thumb, tracing over his knuckles then back again.

"You wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me," she murmured, exhaustion drenching her words. "I've ruined everything."

"You haven't, Irie."

He wouldn't accept that.

Not now or ever.

Iliya's eyes drooped closed, her head lolling to the side. "Bad things are coming," she whispered, her speech blurring together. "And for once, I can't seem to predict what happens next."

"We'll make it out the other side," he promised.

Iliya bobbed her head a few times, soft snores escaping her lips.

Sorein's smile was bittersweet as he bent over and gently kissed the top of her brow.

He stood and crept out of the room, careful not to disturb either Dalaminai Heir.

They needed time to heal as much as he needed to prepare.

Trial was waiting for him.