Aldeheid awoke to a stream of sunlight warming his face. His head was swimming, like someone had reduced his brain to liquid, ad he was struggling to remember the events that had brought him to this point. The last thing he remembered was going somewhere with Kitaya. He was clean, so he must have at least had a bath. But he was on the floor, with sheets tangled around him and pillows scattered about.

He rolled over and rubbed his face, brows scrunching at the bandages on his dominant hand. A dull throb radiated through his skull, and stars spotted his vision. Wit slow, careful movements, he got his feet under him and rose, swaying to one side when his head spun. Dear gods. He hadn't felt this horrid since he'd had one drink too many after a training session with Leandyr.

"Good morning."

Aldeheid startled, and would've fallen over if his bedpost wasn't behind him. He looked over at the small seating arrangement on the other side of the room.

Kemah was lounging on the settee, a cup of tea in one hand and a sheet of parchment in the other. Before him a platter of meats, jams and bread sat on the small table, along with a steaming teapot and extra cups.

"Come, have some breakfast," he said.

Aldeheid pressed a hand over his racing heart. One of these days, these people were going to kill him. "How did you get in my room and why are you here?"

"The door was wide open, and I'm here to talk." He nodded to the food. "You should eat. It will make you feel better."

Aldeheid looked towards the door that was indeed opened as far as possible. Strange, he'd made it a habit to lock all the doors and windows before settling in for the night. But he didn't even remember settling in for the night. It was a dark spot eclipsing his memory and blocking its view.

He conceded to Kemah's request and took the single chair and poured himself a cup of tea. The herbal smell alone was enough to relax him. His stomach growled at the sight of the food, and he tried to remember if he'd eaten anything before passing out.

Kemah set aside the parchment and topped off his cup of tea. "Allow me to apologize for what happened with Nylarah yesterday. I promise you she means well, but not everyone is equipped to handle her methods."

Aldeheid's body went cold as it all came crashing down on him like a frigid wave. The endless staircase, the meditation chamber, being in his own head, the memories, the mocking. It was all flashing before his eyes. His tumble down the steps had broken his fingers, and Kitaya had given Nylarah a vicious tongue lashing.

The crash of breaking glass rang through his head and his feet suddenly felt warm.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have brought it up," Kemah said with a frown.

Aldeheid looked down at the broken glass lying in the pool of tea at his feet. "My apologies." He lifted a foot, the warm liquid rolling down his heel and dripping into the puddle.

"Don't worry about it." Kemah poured a fresh cup and handed it to him. The pity in his eyes stung, and Aldeheid had to look away. "Seems as though you had a rough time."

He took a sip of the tea to stall. The burning on his tongue chased away the thoughts that threatened to resurface. "I'd rather not speak of it."

"I understand. How's your head? Sometimes Nylarah's mind tricks can have residual effects."

"It hurts a little, but I believe I'm okay. You're telling me she played tricks on my mind?"

Kemah frowned. "Perhaps 'tricks' was the wrong word to use. She facilitates the deep meditation, but she can't put anything into your mind that wasn't already there. I'll ask kindly, and with no expectation of agreement, that you do not hold this against her. She's... quite upset with herself, and Kitaya is angry enough for the both of you."

So everything Aldeheid seen was in his own head, not something Nylarah had made up to torture him. You don't have to say anything, she'd said. Because it was all in his head, laid bare before him. All the thoughts he'd been running from. All the things he'd wanted to forget.

"I hold no malice," he finally said. "Is that why you came?"

"There's also another matter I want to discuss, concerning your bonding ceremony. Eat your fill first. Then we'll walk the outer wall." He leaned back in his seat and picked up the parchment he'd been reading.

Moments later, with a full stomach and clean clothes, Aldeheid was following Kemah to the southern part of the castle. After walking the maze like halls for half an hour, they reached a wide balcony on the top floor. It ran along the entire southern side and provided a view Aldeheid couldn't tear his eyes away from.

"How are you liking Kon so far?" Kemah asked as they strolled along.

"It's beautiful." If there was one thing he learned from Kitaya, it was that he needed to travel more. He couldn't believe he'd been missing out on places like Kon and Aiisha for so long. It almost felt like a disservice unto himself. "But I thought we were going to the outer wall."

"This is the outer wall."

Aldeheid opened his mouth, then closed it again, then gazed beyond the city to where the outer wall he knew of was.

"I'll explain." He tucked his hands behind his back, continuing towards the eastern side of the castle. "When the first ruler of Kon wanted to discuss important matters, he'd walk with the relevant parties along the outer wall of the castle. It's become somewhat of a tradition."

"I see..." Aldeheid toyed with his bandages. "So when someone wants to walk the outer wall, they're referring to this balcony and not the actual outer wall? That makes no sense."

"Not to you, but you should commit these things to memory. Because once you become Kitaya's magician, this..." He gestured towards the city. "...will become your home. On one condition."

Aldeheid, stopped and wrinkled his brow. Kitaya had told him nothing of any conditions. And with everything he knew about Kon so far, it could be something insane, like a freefall from the highest point in the city or running through fire. "What condition?"

Kemah stopped and turned to face him. "You must renounce all ties to your home nation. You're still allowed to visit, but your alliance lies with Kon, and Kon only."

Aldeheid couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "Is that it? I've been stateless for over three hundred years."

Kemah chuckled and turned to face the city. "Well, you'll only have to be stateless for one day more. Are you nervous for the ceremony?"

Nervous didn't even begin to cover his feelings. "I'm still in disbelief it's happening." He leaned against the stone, its warmth seeping into his skin.

"And why is that? Kitaya seems especially adamant about having you as her magician."

"But why?" Aldeheid wasn't sure if that question was directed at himself or Kemah. "She doesn't even need a magician. Much less me."

Kemah rolled his eyes in a very Kitaya-like fashion. "I can see why she calls you an idiot half the time. Listen. Kitaya wouldn't have chosen you to be her magician if she didn't believe, by some measure, that she'll be better because of you."

That made even less sense to him. "She'll be better. But it will be in spite of me."

"Dear gods, you're exhausting." Kemah turned away and began walking again. "We shouldn't dally any longer. Kitaya is waiting."

Aldeheid jogged to catch up. "Waiting for us? Where?"

"Not us. Just you." He stopped in front of a long hall and nodded for him to proceed. "Walk to the end of that hall, you'll find a set of doors. Kitaya is waiting for you inside." Then he clapped Aldeheid on the shoulder ad turned away. "Until tomorrow."

For a while, Aldeheid stood there, staring down the hall, wondering what Kitaya wanted with him. To apologise for what Nylarah did, perhaps. Or maybe after his theatrics she wanted to cancel their bonding ceremony. Find another magician.

Those thoughts weighed heavily on his mind as he wondered as he walked the wide hall. The arched double doors at its end were twice his height and made of silvery metal polished to a shine. The molding all around its perimeter depicted various scenes – me and women sitting around fires, magicians with flowing capes on their shoulders, shooting spells from their fingers.

Aldeheid pressed it hands against the metal and a ticklish sensation ran up his arm, like the light brush of a feather. The doors swung inward without a sound and without any effort from him. The chamber beyond was covered I a mixture of art and magic. The floor was littered with runes that radiated from the center in a abstract pattern. They seemed to have been burnt onto the stone. The walls on the other had hundreds and hundreds of pictures and landscapes and people carved into them from floor to ceiling. Some were accented with paint or small gems.

Kitaya sat in the center of the chamber, where a circular section of the floor was sunken in. Before her was a glass orb sitting on a carved hand. The morning sun, streaming in from the skylight bathed her in its golden glow.

"Are you going to just stand there and stare? Or you going to come in?" she asked.

Heat crept into Aldeheid's cheeks as he stepped into the chamber. He joined Kitaya by the orb, and only then did he notice the glowing white wisp swirling at its core.

"How are you feeling?" She finally looked at him, her eyes searching his face.

"I'm... alright." A little tired, a little shaken up, but he kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry her further.

"I told Nylarah to take small steps with you." Kitaya rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"I'm sure she meant well, Kitaya. What happened yesterday? The last thing I remember is you two arguing." He needed to veer the conversation away from his session with Nylarah, lest Kitaya ask him to recount the events.

"I let the medics tend to you. Then took you up to your room, washed you and put you to bed."

His cheeks burned. "You... didn't have to do that."

"Hm? It's a cape's job to protect their magician, is it not?"

"I suppose. . ." They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, and Aldeheid continued to study the walls. "What is this room?"

"The Origin Chamber. It tells the story of how Kon came to be – a tale that every Konian knows by heart. It's the cornerstone of our nation."

Aldeheid remembered Kemah's words in that moment. That he'd be one of them when he was bonded to Kitaya. That meant it was a story he should know as well. 

"I like to come here whenever I'm... fretting about something," Kitaya added.

He gave her a sidelong stare, his brown drawn together. Kitaya? Fretting? He didn't think her capable of such a thing. She always seemed so sure about everything. "What are you fretting about?"

"You angel eyes, and this perpetual downward spiral you're on. I worry that you're beyond any help I can give you or that I can find. And I just... I don't know what to do. And I hate not knowing what to do." There was no anger in her tone, instead there was helplessness, with a dash of anxiety. It sounded wrong coming from her mouth.

Aldeheid didn't know what to tell her, or how to appease her. Perhaps he was doomed to be this way, and if that were the case, Kitaya would probably give up on him eventually. Abandon him out in the cold. He didn't want to think of such things, so he did the only thing he could in situations like these. Not talk about it. 

"What's this... thing?" He pointed to the orb.

She made a face at him, but didn't push the issue. "This is the Light of Magika, or a small piece of it rather."

He blinked at her, jaw falling. "Did I just hear you correctly? The is the Light of Magika?" He looked at the little ghost dancing in the orb. There didn't seem to be anything special about it. "I was taught that the Light of Magika was just a myth."

"Ah, right." Kitaya folded one leg over the other, shifting the folds of her black and gold skirt. "You northerners have a different recount of the Days of Black Sun. I hate to be the one to break it to you, angel eyes, but your head has been filled with lies."

Aldeheid grimaced, feeling the sting of having his knowledge questioned. "And what do you know of what northerners believe?"

"In its early days Magika was a barren wasteland – the days of Black Sun – and there were many opposing beliefs for why it was so. You northerners believed that it was a curse that would go away once we denizens of Magika paid our dues to the gods."

"And that's what happened. That's why Temples were established. So we could appease the Gods. And it worked." He'd spent fifty-odd years of his early lifetime learning about the history of Magika, and how it became the realm it was now. But he wasn't opposed to having his knowledge challenged, and talking about something so mundane was better than whimpering about the state of his mind.

Kitaya wagged a finger at him. "Not so, angel eyes. The days of Black Sun ended because Kon's first ruler found the light of Magika in Infinity." She made a grand gesture with her hands. "It's all depicted here in this chamber."

"But how?" Aldeheid looked around at the carvings on the walls. "He would've had to leave his home to find Infinity, and anyone who battled wilderness was overcome with despair and died a slow death. That's why everyone stayed together."

"So little faith you have." She shook her head like a disappointed parent. "He made it to Infinity because he had help." She pointed to the west wall, at a depiction of a man and a woman. The man, he assumed to be Kon's first ruler. The woman floated above the ground and had flames around her feet and hands.

"That's the fire spirit Onyari," Kitaya explained. "She's responsible for guiding Kon's first ruler to Infinity. I'm often compared to her, actually."

"Why is that?"

"Because a few times I've ventured outside of Kon, and I always return with a 'lost soul' as people call it. Siegfried, Lady Hiroh and you amongst others." She gave a wave of dismissal. "But I digress. When Kon's first ruler found the light of Magika, it freed the realm from the days of Black sun. And Infinity became the cornerstone of this nation."

Aldeheid's jaw fell once more. "No, you're not serious. Kon is built on top of Infinity? It's somewhere around here?" He gestured wildly around the room.

"It is, angel eyes, it is." Kitaya pat his shoulder. "I believe it's part of what makes Kon such a prosperous nation. If you want a more detailed account of this story, you can ask Samiel. He was around for the days of Black Sun."

While that offer was enticing, he was more interested in seeing Infinity for himself. "But where exactly is Infinity? Can you show me? Can we go there?"

She shook her head. "No, angel eyes, I cannot. Only natural Konians that are a part of the royal house can know where Infinity lies. That secret is more sacred than anything else in Kon. Eriani would destroy us both if I told you."

"But I'll be Konian once we're bonded so—"

"But still not a natural Konian. As an example, Kemah doesn't know where Infinity is. He's the Queens cape and partner, and she won't even tell him."

Aldeheid wrinkled his brow. "Kemah's not Konian?"

"No, he's from Andedar." Kitaya rose and stretched her arms high over her head, her bones making audible pops. "It's the Nation to the south on the back of the elephant I told you about."

"Oh." Aldeheid scowled. If Kemah didn't know, then his chances of getting that information were non-existent.

"Which reminds me, you'll get to meet his family tomorrow. They're coming to our bonding ceremony." She headed for the door, and he scrambled to follow.

"Are you still sure about this? About being my cape?" Aldeheid asked. He hadn't thought much about the ceremony since coming to Kon, but every time it was brought up, a little dread settled into his stomach and curdled like sour milk.

Kitaya stopped in front of the door and turned to face him fully. "Yes, Aldeheid. I am sure. In fact, I've never been more sure about anything else in my one thousand plus years. Is that good enough for you?"

As he looked at her, he saw nothing but resolution in her eyes. Kitaya was everything he'd ever wanted in a cape, strong, fearless, and capable of handling the insanity of his magic. But his insecurities made him feel guilty and selfish for accepting her offer when he didn't deserve her. When he wasn't worthy of her.

But I could be. Can I? If he continued with his training, if he adopted some of her stubbornness and persevered, perhaps he could become a magician worthy of her. A magician whose shoulders she'd be proud to rest upon.

"Yes, kitten," he finally said. "It's more than enough."