SORA

We arrive at the train station in Harmony at dark, long after dusk has settled. We agreed that after Harmony we'd head to Rialta to meet up with the others. While it's probably what we were planning regardless, Evory was able to communicate with us on the train that there may be a way we can find help for Reverence in Rialta. Now, we have even more of an incentive to go there.

From what I've seen, Harmony is built with dark grey cobblestone roadways and has many tall and elegant buildings. The buildings mostly have gothic style aspects to them and are black, grey, or white in color. Many of them have beautiful glass windows, and earlier we passed a clocktower with stained glass. In comparison, Ciarran feels like it has a strong sense of home and community built by generations of passion and hard work, while Harmony feels like it's ran by aristocrats and has a much more intimidating feel to the atmosphere.

As we walk through the streets, I notice passersby giving Azuma wary looks and I frown, watching as they leer away from her. Some of them simply give her looks of sympathy and walk faster passed us. Upon passing yet another person who shies away from Azuma as if there's a deadly aura around her, Merrick and I exchange concerned glances, and I don't miss the nervousness swimming in his eyes. I reach out and squeeze his hand reassuringly before I lace our fingers together, the two of us continuing to walk side by side.

"Azuma," I start. "Have you noticed anything...odd?"

"If you mean the way people look at me, I expected it," Azuma says as she continues to walk ahead of us, her chin raised. "I was cast out of the royal family, of course people would avoid associating with me."

"Why exactly were you cast out? If you don't mind me asking," Reverence asks.

"Reverence—" Merrick starts, his eyes growing wide as Azuma stills and stops in her tracks at Reverence's words.

"I found out the truth about my family and I confronted them about it. I didn't approve of what they did. They didn't approve of my criticism," Azuma says, her voice stern. "My sister was the only one who saw my side, but she refused to voice her opinion. She was calculating like that. She knew she'd lose her powers if she spoke out against our parents, and she decided it wasn't worth the potential good she could use with her power later down the road."

"The truth?" Miroslava breathes out quietly, her eyes scanning down Azuma.

"The truth can sometimes be hard to swallow, and the truth was that we had no real right to the throne," Azuma says coldly before she continues to walk away down the street.

We slowly follow after Azuma as her words ring heavy throughout the air, leaving us to question what exactly happened with Azuma and her family. Eventually, reach the set of tall iron gates that guard the entrance to the palace. Upon seeing Azuma, the guards immediately open the gate, despite her being cast out from the palace. Perhaps it's because her sister's the one in control now?

The palace itself has a stone pathway from the front gate with gardens on both sides of the pathway. At the end of the pathway is a set of stone stairs that lead to tall iron double-doors, and the palace building is made of onyx and marble and has many winding pillars around the entrance. Guards lead us to the inside of the palace and directly to the throne room, which has a long black rug that runs up stairs and to a throne that's made of black glass and has iron spears running along the entire back of the throne in a fan formation. On the wall behind the throne, rows of family photos hang surrounded by hanging braziers, showing off all the previous royal families.

On the throne, a man in combat boots, black jeans, a chain belt, and a black hood that connects to black arm sleeves that have diamonds cut out of them sits, a hand on each side of the throne's armrests. Black rune tattoos run up and down his toned chest and his arms.

"Who are you?" Azuma asks, raising her chin defiantly towards the stranger.

"Princess Azuma, yes?" The man raises his cold blue eyes from underneath his hood to meet Azuma's gaze. "Tell me, what do you know of true balance? Is balance keeping the order, or is balance true chaos? Does it mean herding your people like sheep with rules and regulations, or does it mean letting nature take its course? Is life truly balanced if we cheat the system, or was cheating the system meant to happen?"

"What do you mean?" Azuma scowls. "And where is my sister? Who do you think you are?"

"You're as ignorant as they come, aren't you? Just like your sister," A feminine voice rings out, the sound of heels clicking along the floor echoing in the room. "Perhaps you should watch your tone when speaking to your majesty."

A black haired woman dressed in a black keyhole sweater and a dark green pencil skirt that has a slit in the side steps out from the shadows, her black pumps clicking against the floor as she walks. As she crosses her arms against her chest and moves to stand in the light, her golden chain belt glints like diamonds in sunlight. As I meet her emerald green eyes behind her black cat-eye glasses, a chill runs down my spine.

"Emilia," Azuma scowls, clenching her fists at her sides. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Don't you get it yet?" Emilia sneers. "The throne no longer belongs to your family. You're not welcome here. Leave, now."

"My sister would never let--"

"Your sister is dead," Emilia cuts Azuma off sharply. "Your family is dead."

"What?" Azuma's eyes widen and her breath leaves her body in one sharp exhale.

"She was killed when the king seized the palace," Emilia explains coldly. "She was incapable of ruling, incapable of caring for her people, incapable of caring for the regions. Your family should be understanding of seizing the throne, given your family history. Don't look so surprised, it really doesn't suit you. Hold your head up and smile, Princess. It's all you've ever been good for."

"Hey!" I snap angrily, "you're the one who should watch your tone. What right do you have to mock her grief?"

Emilia narrows her eyes and goes to raise out her hand, no doubt summoning magic to attack us with, but the man on the throne holds out his arm and keeps her back. Slowly, the man stands and begins to walk down the stairs, a menacing aura radiating off of him.

"Grief is a child's emotion when they lose their toy. Grief is for the weak, for those who can't be strong enough to carry their pain," the man says, continuing to walk towards us. "If you let it control you, you are nothing but a pawn to your emotions."

The man stops directly in front of me and lowers his hood to reveal dark brown hair that sweeps over his cold blue eyes.

"Who are you?" I ask before clenching my jaw, not entirely expecting an answer.

"King Ajax Aisawa. The pleasure's yours," the man says as he extends a tattooed arm.