"I've asked Andrin and Destry to join us," Ezre said, having dismissed Siofra shortly after Iliya. "I have something we need to discuss."

Sorein's eyes tracked the chaotic movements of the King, noting the way his eyes shifted back and forth before truly focusing. He wasn't certain this was so important he'd have to do it with blood drying on his sweater, nor that it was worth traumatizing the Princess to do it, but he kept his mouth shut.

He reminded himself of the strength Iliya was gaining, enough to go out on the whims he'd known she always had. The dim impulsive spark dancing within her veins finally seeking an outlet.

Yet watching the young RIM officer follow his friend through the doors was curious enough. Iliya hadn't mentioned seeing Siofra that night, but he was certain she'd done something wrong.

Being on the receiving end of the Princess' wrath was never fun.

Still, Sorein reeled in his wandering mind in an attempt to stop antagonizing Ezre. He was worried and rightfully so. His temper had always been a wildcard.

"You asked them to join us in the middle of the night?" Sorein asked, raising a brow.

Ezre grunted at him, shaking his head. Not in denial but frustration, it seemed.

He supposed his comment might be antagonizing until his father walked in still wearing his usual – the slacks and jacket of a royal paired with a stretched undershirt. A lazy royal at that. Destry followed behind the picture of a wraith, her stare tired and haunted.

She wore a simple gown and corset with a flowing shawl draped around her shoulders.

"This doesn't seem like a court meeting," he mused under his breath.

Andrin shot him a look, taking in the sludge soaked clothes before bristling further. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"It's a long story," Sorein replied, lowering his head partially.

Each of them took a seat at a small square table, far short of any gathering he'd ever been a part of. No one bore papers, yet all attention was on him as they took their seats.

Destry took a deep breath, clasping her hands on the table in front of them. "Sorein," she began softly, the voice of a mother equipped with information. "There are concerns within the city about your involvement with the attack."

He frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"Several parties are concerned that you knew the attack was going to take place..." Destry explained, looking at her hands as they wrung one another. "When Ezre found you both beneath the Aphyre..."

Heat raced through Sorein's body. "You think I would try to kill these people? Your people?" he snapped.

Ezre glared at him. "You've been absent from several Gatherings including Court, you disappeared after the attack, and now–"

"I was ordered," Sorein interjected coldly, shooting a look at his father. Waiting for him to say something. Anything.

So many orders to aid Andrin's research in the Library, reading through every book they could get their hands on. Each hour leading to the absence of an alibi.

The disappointment burning through him had morphed into an entirely new sensation.

Nixian's words rang out in his head.

Don't let his downfall be your own.

Andrin said nothing, his stoic features locking Sorein out completely as accusations were slung in his face. He'd do anything for his mother, for his kingdom. Including hanging his son out to dry, allowing him to take the fall for everything.

"I stand by Azuris law," Sorein found himself saying, addressing the entire table. "All people are my people, as it has always been and as Aida has blessed it to be."

"This isn't easy for us Sorein–" Destry managed to say, though unconvincingly. "Why were you showing Iliya the tunnels beneath the Estate?"

"I wasn't," he muttered, his voice straining. "Your daughter found them on her own and didn't want to go alone."

Destry and Ezre exchanged a weary glance.

Andrin sat up in his chair, growing carefully alert.

"We never told Iliya about Niorier," Ezre replied cautiously. "There is no way for her to know where to look."

For a long moment, Sorein considered if he was going to mention the book Iliya hadn't even allowed him to see. Their relationship was only just beginning to head in the right direction.

"I don't know if you've noticed, your highness, but she's been engaging with many people as of late," Sorein offered loosely, skating away from the journal. "She told me Rhydian used to tease her about Nioreir and she's not an idiot."

The King hummed, but it was Destry who was paling at the thought.

"She's certainly not..." he muttered, as if it upset him. "You only intended to protect her?"

Sorein nodded once, the anger rippling off him easing slightly. He understood Ezre's protection, his nature always to shoot from the blinds and investigate later.

"You know I have to investigate these matters," Ezre explained, his voice trailing off absently. "The attack has rattled the city and there are no answers."

His body slackened more, relaxing as the edge drained from the King's voice.

"We still have no explanation for where you've been though," Destry added hesitantly.

Sorein leveled his gaze with his father this time, only the King of Azuris appeared to struggle maintaining his mask. His father looked at him in warning, as if the threat could dissuade Sorein now.

He made a decision, one he was certain would have consequences.

"My mother has fallen ill," Sorein said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Due to the sensitive nature of her condition, I haven't been allowed to seek aid or attention, so my father and I have been using our free time here. In the Library."

Andrin's knuckles turned white as he glared daggers into Sorein.

Ezre's stare had warmed, flashing with surprise as he turned to Andrin. "Is that true, is Elsie ill?"

The King of Azuris growled at his son before nodding. "She has been for a few years now."

"What have you found?" Destry asked.

"Nothi–"

"I have been made aware of an illness..." Sorein interrupted his father softly, unable to harbor these secrets anymore. They suffocated like leviathans wrapped around his chest. "Something I believe might be connected to the attack."'

All eyes were on him now.

Tension thickened the space.

Taking a deep breath, Sorein braced himself. "Pestis Ceigair is a plague that has been spreading into the Aelusian waters east of our borders, with symptoms that match everything my mother is experiencing..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Andrin argued, pivoting in his chair.

"Because Pestis Ceigair translates to The Summoner's plague," Sorein snapped back, his heart thundering in his ears. "There is no cure."

"That's impossible..." Destry whispered, her hand reaching to cover her mouth.

Ezre's face had shifted as well, a haunted realization spreading inside his mind.

"You've been working on this with Yvers on this, haven't you?" Andrin yelled, pointing at the Estate beyond them. "You know how meddlesome he can–"

"Enough," Sorein bit out. "We have done this your way for nearly a decade, father."

Andrin froze in place, reality hitting him.

"There's more, isn't there?" Ezre asked. "I've known Nixian since he was a boy, he's done his research."

Sorein nodded. "The Summoner's Plague can only be contracted through opening the portals underneath the Temples and beneath the City of the Lost..." he answered, frowning at his own line of thought. "Nixian doesn't believe Elsie was the one who opened the portal. Only that she unwittingly helped someone else..."

Ezre's eyes widened, gaze flickering back and forth. "You're considering that anyone who might've tampered with the portal, might've disrupted the runes sealing the Aphyre?"

Again he nodded, unsure of what else he could offer.

"I'll need to speak with Nixian," Ezre said, abruptly standing from his chair. "In the meantime, I want a crew assembled for a trip. We're going to investigate Heilos Temple."

Andrin balked, standing. "What are you talking about, you can't just–"

"I can and I will," Ezre said, cutting Andrin down yet again. "Every country is experiencing a phenomenon they have not seen before. If the answers are beneath the City, then the City is where we will go."

Sorein admired Ezre's fast action, weary as he might be of the consequences. He wanted answers and he would help any way he could.

"Will you show me to the Temple?" Ezre asked, turning to Sorein.

"Yes, of course."

Andrin's head whipped back to Sorein. "Are you mad?"

Sorein shrugged, ignoring the offhanded rage. Maybe he was delusional, but he was tired of being stuck in the mud.

Instead, he looked at Destry and offered a sad smile. "Do you mind if I go change now? I'd really appreciate a bath."

Flustered, she smiled and waved awkwardly, dismissing him.

Sorein turned and headed out of the Archives, his pace steady as tried and failed to dodge more onlookers.

What he wasn't expecting however, was coming up to an irritated looking Noah.

"Please don't tell me you have a bone to pick with me too," Sorein sighed. "I don't know if I can take it."

Noah shook his head. "I'll leave you be," he said, despite appearing weary.

"What is it?"

"If I were going to have a bone to pick, I'd go off about how you never told anyone your mother was ill, but I don't," he started, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning on. "Though, if I had a bone to pick, I might just go tell Iliya – who's worried sick about you by the way – that you've been hiding quite a bit from us."

"Good thing you don't have a bone to pick," Sorein muttered. "Leave her out of this."

"Of course," Noah said, nodding. "I won't say a word."

His friend held his hands up in mock surrender, but mischief and annoyance still lurked under the surface of those brown eyes.

"I need to shower," he told Noah, groaning to himself. "Please, just stay out of it."

"Don't worry," Noah replied, turning as if he were going to slink down into the Infirmary. "I'll let you dig this grave all on your own."

"Thanks," he retorted, rolling his eyes.

He couldn't handle one more thing to consider now, only showering and preparing for the road ahead.