Two years earlier, when Emrick had been working on the properties of fyrite and ellinite with Turian, Harudan and Nerin had come to stay. It was the same as every other summer before that, Emrick worked away while his master got the laboratory ready for his spoiled nephews.

Everything had to be clean and ready in their rooms, which were mostly used as storage when they weren't there. If it wasn't, one or both of them would yell until someone cleaned it up. They were too used to servants, Harudan especially, who liked to treat him like he was one.

He wasn't. That was something he never wanted to be. Once, when he was first learning to fight, his mother caught him and told him he should work as a servant for a noble in Minisia. He could watch the Warriors of Ziya easily from there, but he hadn't wanted to obey the whims of a person who sent soldiers to ravage his home every few months.

That belief was something that had stuck with him for years, through meeting Turian and beyond. So whenever Harudan demanded something from him like a child, he would tell him to do it himself and leave. The King, or Prince as he had been at the time, had to learn how to do things by himself.

Nerin had been better at it. After the first year or two of Emrick ignoring his demands, he got wise to it and no longer asked. He, at least, had the excuse of actually being a child. But Harudan was two years older than Emrick, he should have known better. But the Crown Prince was a spoiled child and it hadn't surprised him in the slightest.

The first year he had met them had been strange. Turian hadn't told him that he was the brother of the King until after he'd taken Emrick on as his apprentice. In all his years, Emrick had never expected to be able to leave the border towns, let alone find somewhere to work and live. To be working under a Prince had been the last thing he expected or wanted.

Of course, he stayed anyway. Turian was nothing like the nobles he had seen. He had no servants, he did everything on his own and he cared. He looked after him during the months it took him to get used to the fact that he wasn't fighting for his life on a daily basis. Then came Nerin and Harudan.

They were exactly as he expected royalty to be. Nerin wouldn't leave him alone until he snapped at him and from then on, all they did was argue. But their fights were never as bad as the ones he had with Harudan. Those fights were the ones that started out civil but escalated into something far worse.

One of the most memorable was regarding the Askari. Thinking back, it made so much more sense to him why Harudan said the things he did. At the time, Emrick had chalked it down the way he'd been raised and the person he had for a father, but it was so much worse.

That day two years ago, Emrick had been on the top floor of the laboratory, as far from Turian's family as he could get. The King never came with them and when Emrick had asked, all he'd been told was that they didn't get along. He could understand it, but he'd always wished that it meant that Nerin and Harudan didn't need to come in the summer.

The elder brother had interrupted him by pushing the door open with a loud bang. Emrick had sighed and pushed away from the little desk he'd been working at, the lumps of fyrite rattling as he did. "Your Highness, are you alright?" he'd asked.

Harudan had shrugged. "I am quite bored," he'd said, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Where is your brother? Or your friend, the guard?" he'd asked. Usually when he saw Harudan, Jonin was with him. The two of them were never apart, so it was strange to be in a room alone with one of them.

"Nerin is with Turian," Harudan answered, scuffing his foot against the floor. "Jonin is with my father's Captain, training in the border towns."

Something about it made him feel sick to his stomach. No one had any reason to be in the border towns, especially not for training. "Why are they there?" he asked even though he knew he had no right to.

Harudan seemed to take happiness in Emrick's worry, something that had angered him for years after. "There's Askari sneaking in through the border towns. One of the Lady's has been killed. Jonin is being trained in how to deal with them," he'd answered. There were words hidden, words that had enraged Emrick more than the ones that had been said.

Jonin was also there to learn how to deal with the rebellious citizens in the border towns. After what the Askari called the Frost, they had rebelled harder than ever before. Neither nation was allowed to step foot in the towns without getting caught up in trouble. The decision to train there meant that the Ishini didn't care.

"Right, of course," he'd muttered and turned back to his work. He'd thought at the time that if he stopped paying attention to Harudan, he would go away. He'd never been so wrong.

"You're half Askari, aren't you?" he'd asked and sat down at the other side of the table. Emrick gave him a droll look and gestured to the white of his skin. "What's it like, being born of both while all of this is happening?"

"All of this?" he'd questioned instead of answering. The truth was, he didn't feel like he was a part of either race. Both were bloodthirsty and didn't care about people like him. He was his own race.

Harudan eyed him in irritation. "The threats, the assassinations. It's almost war," he'd said, sounding far too cheerful for the situation.

"You would be happy if it was, wouldn't you?"

"You should have a little more respect," Harudan had said with a scoff, giving Emrick all the answer he needed. At first, he'd thought the Prince had wanted his father to go to war, not that he wanted to do it himself. "The Askari are too active, considering how much they struggle in the winter. It needs to be fixed."

The worst part about it was that Emrick agreed. The Askari were too active along the border, but so were the Ishini. They both did the same thing, attacking the border towns as if it would do anything to solve the tensions. All it did was injure and kill people who weren't involved in the mess the royals and the army created. He was sick of it, even if he didn't live there anymore. He'd been lucky to escape.

"And you're going to fix that are you? Or your father?" he'd said with a shake of his head. "Because it's been eight years and nothing has changed."

Harudan rolled his eyes and stood. "Not today. Today, Jonin will fix something, even if it is just a few rogue Askari and some rebellious halflings," he said and sneered down at him.

Emrick had bared his teeth, thoughts running through his head. There were so many things he should have done, yelled at him, hit him, beat his head in with the massive chunk of fyrite on the table, but he'd done none of it. "I would appreciate it if you left, Your Highness," he'd said instead, the title like poison on his tongue. "I have a lot of work to do."

There'd been a couple more irritated remarks before Harudan finally left the room, but Emrick no longer remembered what they were. What he did remember was his surprise later that night when he realised that Turian was nothing like his brother or his nephews. He cared about everyone, the Ishini, the Askari, the halflings in the border towns. He never had been a good Oshana, but he would have been a good king.

As it turned out, he'd been wrong about Nerin too. The boy that walked next to him was as kind as his uncle and nowhere near as spoiled as he had once been. He should have opened his eyes to the fact that not all of the Oshana children were bloodthirsty, but from what Turian had told him of the last King and his experience with Harudan, he hadn't been willing to do so.

In the day or so since they left Reed, Nerin hadn't spoken much. None of them had, to be honest, but Nerin less so. Seeing Harudan had rendered him to silence, which was strange, seeing as the boy usually couldn't keep his mouth shut. At least he was still moving, he could have given up ages ago.

The four of them were walking through what would be farmland in the spring. The open fields were covered in a thick blanket of snow, the occasional farmhouse dotted along the horizon. There was no one in the fields, luckily for them, but it left the landscape in an eerie silence.

Emrick placed a hand on his shoulder and the boy looked up at him. There was nothing he could think of to say and instead, he squeezed the boy's shoulder tightly in an attempt to comfort him. Nerin didn't give him any sort of reaction, just looked down at the ground, but it was better than shrugging him off.

Rina and Isiah walked ahead of him, their whispers muffled by the wind. In his hand was the stone, its glow bright in the drab grey of their surroundings. Smoke drifted from the tips of his fingers. How it didn't hurt, Emrick wasn't sure, but it was safe to assume that the stone stopped him from getting burned. If only it worked for the rest of them.

He dropped his hand from Nerin's shoulder and adjusted the bag on his back. He carried the food, which he had resupplied while they had been in Reed. People had stared at him while he was there, but he was used to it. He'd been the one to go shopping when he'd lived with Turian, looks and slurs were something he had quickly gotten used to.

Ahead of him, Rina gasped. Light dancing before him caught his attention and he hurried to catch up with her and Isiah. Nerin stayed back, but as long as he kept up with them, he would be fine.

"I didn't know you could do that," Rina said as he caught up to them.

"Neither did I!" Isiah replied, a grin on his face. A small fireball jumped between his hands as if he were trying to juggle it.

She smiled back at him. "See? I told you that practice would help," she said as the three of them stumbled through a particularly deep snowdrift. No one had shovelled the thin road they walked in a long time, the farms around them practically abandoned and it was starting to become a struggle to walk.

"You were right," Isiah mumbled distractedly as the small ball danced around his fingers. He was getting so much better at using the stone, but Emrick didn't know quite what that meant for them.

He nudged the other man with his shoulder as gently as he could, but the state of the fireball didn't change. "It's good to see you smiling," he said, eyes fixed ahead of them. "You didn't do that much when we first met." He'd been so quiet when Nerin had first arrived at the laboratory with him, barely saying a word. It was good to see him talking more, considering the pressure he was under.

But then the smile dropped from his face, replaced with furrowed brows a lip between his teeth. "Sorry," he muttered. He wouldn't meet Emrick's eyes and instead watched his feet as they trekked through the snow.

"No, you don't need to apologise. You don't need to feel guilty for the lab either. I know that's what you're thinking," he said and ran a hand down his arm. Part of him was tempted to stop and turn the younger man towards him, but he resisted. "Smile. If there's something in the world you're happy about, smile. I'm not going to shame you for it. In fact, I'll probably smile with you."

Isiah looked almost shocked by his words and for a second Emrick wanted to take it all back. He shouldn't have said anything, just walked with him in silence. "Are you sure?" Isiah asked, pulling him back to reality.

"Aye," he replied without taking a second to think about it. "I'm sure."

"But I've killed-"

"And your Gods will forgive you for it. As long as being happy doesn't take away from your guilt, smile."

Isiah stared at him with wide eyes and mouth agape. "You forgive me and want me to smile, but you also want me to feel guilty?" he asked, confusion lacing his voice. Rina was gone from his side, walking behind with Nerin. How long ago she had left, Emrick did not know.

"Aye, I do. Because even with forgiveness, if you don't feel guilty, then there is something terribly wrong with you," Emrick explained, eyes on Isiah as they walked.

He was still frowning at the crisp snow but finally looked up at him with his big yellow eyes. His smile was mostly hidden in his copper beard, but Emrick could still find it if he looked hard enough. It was so small, so shy, but it was there. The flames erupted in his hands again and for the first time, Emrick noticed that they had disappeared during their conversation.

"Thank you," Isiah said as the flames danced between his fingers.

Emrick scowled. "For what?"

"I don't know... I just- It felt like the right thing to say," he replied and shrugged. "You've been so kind to me and I don't know why, but I'm not going to complain."

"Because you don't deserve cruelty," Emrick said as seriously as he could. It was the truth. Ever since they met, Isiah had been nothing but polite, kind and peaceful. He was far too sweet for the role he had been given. "Besides, I'd rather not anger the Beast that was Promised, even if he doesn't want to hurt people."

His laugh was quiet, soft gasps that sounded as though he was struggling to breathe, but it was nice to hear. There was something in his eyes, something akin to disbelief. He probably didn't agree with half the things Emrick said, but he would say them anyway; he deserved to hear them.

The same probably went for Nerin, as much as he hated to admit it. They'd been at odds with each other for years, but things had changed since they arrived at the laboratory. There was no need to treat him as he used to, like a brat. If they were able to remove Harudan from the throne, Nerin would make a good King.

"I'm not sure how I'm going to do this without violence. Everything so far has lead up to it," Isiah said, any hint of laughter gone. His brows were furrowed again and all Emrick wanted was to wipe the worry from his face. "I don't know if I can do it, to be honest."

"You can and you will," he told him. "Don't throw away your beliefs. If you want to do this without violence, then do so. Just don't expect it to be all sugar and cream."

Isiah scoffed. "I don't. I want to say that I've seen enough bloodshed, but I know that there is more to come. I just hope that it isn't any of ours." He looked over his shoulder at their silent companions, his friends.

Emrick bumped his shoulder with his own. "It won't be, I'll make sure of that. They will too," he said and gave him a small smile. "Even the protector of the realm needs his own protectors." He would do that for him, without a second to think, even though Isiah had no idea how he was going to save everyone. He would do it for all three of them, even if it meant laying down his life.