She didn't fight when the renegades grabbed her arms and hauled her out of the space she shared with her family. Savel dragged a half-asleep Reza off the mattress and sputtered all the way, demanding a ton of things a mere soldier wouldn't be able to answer.

Elred flashed him a look—one saying he should shut up and tether his emotions. It went over his head, showing her how worked up he was. Understandable. He just saw his wife who had been missing and was presumed dead a few hours ago. He spent a while tending to her shattered wings. Of course, he'd start demanding why she was suddenly being arrested. By this elder he thought he served, nonetheless.

She kept her head straight, even as they led her to a dagrine. With such a short snout and stout legs, she doubted it could carry her weight, much less two people. A butt of a spear prodded her shoulders, and some sort of scuffle blustered behind her. She turned to find Savel being wrestled back by two renegades while he screamed curses at the soldier who "hurt" her. At the side, Reza started crying.

Oh, dear Calaris.

A hand clamped down on her arm as she moved towards her son. She couldn't have whipped towards the renegade who did that fast enough. "Let go," she snarled. "My son needs me. I won't run."

It must have been the acid in her glare or some sliver of authority she retained from her time as a princess of Helinfirth and a general in the Synketrian army, but the renegade backed off, leaving her to stride towards Reza. "It's alright," Elred muttered under her breath as she cradled the boy in her arms and he wrapped his short arms around her neck. "Mom's just going away. Again. Be good to Dad, alright?"

Reza tore away from her and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. "I miss you, Mom," he said. "When will you play with me?"

Something twinged in Elred's gut. It was easy to forget her son was barely starting his life in this world, and now more than ever, he needed his mother. And it shredded her stone heart to ash when she realized she couldn't be with them. Not while the Virtakios War raged on and she's caught in the trenches because of her foolish promises, her unwanted obligations, and her connection to the Helinfirthian throne. If she couldn't get back to the upper cities and retrieve it, she might as well have doomed her family to survive in a world where only slavery and destruction were the only choices as to how to live their lives.

"Soon," she answered. To a child, it's enough to keep them hoping, and enough to break their hearts doing so. "Mom just needs to do something. Save the world. You know, all those things."

Reza nodded. Sometimes Elred wondered why she was blessed with not one but two understanding and patient fairies. "Go to your father," she said gently. "Make sure he doesn't get hurt on the way."

The boy nodded and stepped behind the two renegades holding Savel back. In the presence of a child's innocence, even the most hardened soldier in a place void of sunlight shirked back a bit. Elred didn't stay to watch what happened after, turning back to her escorts and the saddled dagrine waiting for her. "Let's go," was all she said before she swung a leg over the beast's flank and propped herself atop it in record speed.

Much to Savel's consternation, Elred spent the rest of the journey with a renegade escort. She didn't even know what they looked like with all of the fabric covering their whole body, save for a small slit for the eyes. Weren't they feeling suffocated? She knew a lot about disguises and wanting to hide one's face, but this was taking it to the extreme.

What seemed like hours passed in silence. The renegade behind her didn't urge the dagrine to gallop faster. It could have cut the travel time to about half. In the false peace, Elred found herself glancing at Savel at odd moments, noting how his exhaustion manifested itself through the dark circles under his eyes and how his once-luscious blond hair now hung in a limp mop atop his head. Elred couldn't have looked any better, the stumps of her wings still wrapped in bandages to further aid in the healing. She couldn't remember the last time she bathed, or even saw a body of water larger than a puddle of groundwater. As a shard fairy, it was supposed to be shameful, but it's the least of her concern now. She couldn't even access her synnavaim.

To further prove her point, she closed her eyes and turned her attention inward. Being cut from magic had left a foreign void in her chest, as cold and dark as the prison she spent a long while in. She sighed and lowered her senses further, straight into her soul. She wasn't a banshee who could see souls like looking at a complex painting, but she was herself, and that's enough.

As the dagrine huffed and lumbered along, as the entire platoon of renegades sent by the Elder trudged through decrepit ruins and forgotten roads of an ancient civilization, she exhaled and felt around for any spark of magic left in her system, and on the world around her. The first few minutes, nothing happened. But when she stayed in her induced focus longer, she felt a spark. Then, another.

Warmth.

She opened her eyes and the trail dimension bled out before her. Magic. It's everywhere.

And it's stronger than the forces aboveground.

How come she hasn't noticed this before? The buried civilization was practically a well of ancient magic, so much that the spark in her system transformed into a rush of trails and heat in a matter of seconds. Was this why the renegades preferred to stay here, instead of joining the Peltran army? This...

If the Sovereign and Heiress got their hands on this city, it'd be over. That was, if they weren't already here now. Savel mentioned plague. Was that somehow connected to whatever nefarious thing Synketros and Cardovia had been doing?

Even having spent a long time in the Sovereign's ranks, Elred still had no idea. And she hated herself for that.

But she could cast magic now—that much she was certain of. Savel had assured her her access to her synnavaim would come back, and it did. Why hadn't she seen Cirasa use his after his wings shattered? Was it connected to his visions—the reason he chose to exile himself in Rabante, away from the prying eyes of their clan?

Elred could have spent the whole journey propping question after question she wouldn't get any answers to, but she had other things to do. Other plans to execute. Such as—how to get out of Ok-Sa and hopefully reconnect to the caverns she carved out underneath Helinfirth, where the rest of the shard fairies were. Had they emerged and started rebuilding? In this war? The Queen should have better sense than that.

Still, the caverns wouldn't hold an entire shard fairy race for long, and if the Queen wanted to keep her power and influence for long, she would have made her move now. And Elred, having prided herself to have more sense than her mother, must be making hers too. Even if they wouldn't accept her as their future Queen, she should at least attempt to finish what she and Reeca started, and get the throne back to where it belonged. That, and to survive this war without having to lose anything else she cared about.

Even if she had to keep running, if it meant salvation, she would do it.

They reached some sort of triangular alcove made by two columns which had fallen towards each other and stayed there. It meant a narrower corridor, which meant they had to walk. Elred was ordered to dismount, and she did without aid. Her shoulder throbbed a bit when the force of her soles hitting the ground bounced back up. She gritted her teeth and strode forward, towards another kind of darkness.

After what seemed like hours, they emerged into yet another huge cavern with tall ceilings and even taller ruins. This was the main camp—she could tell just by watching the abundance of brightly-colored robes and assortment of weapons, tools, and supplies being carted around. The ruins' walls rose higher than ever, their shadows would have overcast the whole compound had there been sufficient light. Which prompted the question in Elred—why could she see well enough if they're still underground? Was it the pixies' synnavaim?

The answer would have to wait because the renegade behind her yanked at the reins, halting the dagrine in its final steps. What would happen after was obvious. She would disembark, be hauled in front of the Elder—whoever he was—and she would have to stand trial. Again. Just like the old times, she'd be putting the decision of how her life would go into a stranger's hands. If her family didn't care about her then, what assured her this Elder would have an ounce of concern for her?

She glanced at Savel and Reza who followed the rest of the renegades with his lips pursed. Oh, he might look docile now, but Elred knew he was seething inside. He's only holding it together because Reza was with him, and she had asked their son to keep his father on his toes. Her escorts' holds went back to her arms, guiding her through a series of twists and turns towards what could have been the inside of the Elder's oh-so-special office.

The darkness thickened the more steps she and the rest of their antagonistic platoon took. With one last turn, the corridor opened up to a spacious room lined with an array of benches carved straight from stone. Her bare feet scratched against the ground, feeling every bit of the weathering pavement on her blistering soles. Whatever this ancient civilization was, they sure knew how to tile their roads properly. She should learn a thing or two. Helinfirth's roads are terrible.

They made her approach a raised circular dais in the middle of the room. A heavy force smacked against the back of her knees, forcing them to fold over and kneel. She was thankful for the change of clothes. Otherwise, her tattered dress wouldn't have protected her skin from taking another scrape. Still, her insides swirled and her blood boiled. Even though she had accepted her fate as a fallen princess, she maintained the last shred of dignity she could muster—she wouldn't let these primitive brutes tell her how she would spend her life.

More renegades piled inside, choosing their favorite seats to a trial as they would to a karejen race or a season pageant. She turned away from the audience side and found out every direction might as well have been one. The rows of stone benches didn't stop to her west. They surrounded her like how the Synketrian goons did. Just how lucky Elred had been, to be captured twice in the same week?

But she had a bad habit of breaking past her confines. She'd make it out of this place. She has to.

A trace of blond edged in her periphery. She watched Savel and Reza settle on the farthest bench, closer to the way they came. That way, if this went to dagrine crap, they'd be the first ones out the door. Smart.

Then, a different kind of silence settled in the room when a trail of people ducked inside the room, each more subdued than the last. They flanked a man with dark green hair dressed in folds of dark crimson robes. Elred leveled her gaze at the designs inking his beige skin. His eyes reminded her of Helinfirth's skies with an incoming storm. She didn't need to guess or wait for others to acknowledge him. This man was the Elder.

He seemed to be studying her as well, and she let him. Then, he turned to his entourage and they dispersed to the benches without him having to say a word. Just how many people have they tried for it to have its own customs?

"State your name," the Elder announced.

She scoffed, earning shocked but muted gasps. "Elred," she said. When he didn't budge nor move to another question, she rolled her eyes. At this point in time, she didn't care if they imprison her then and there. She'd just escape again. "Elred Valkalin."

More gasps. The Elder swept his eyes across the crowd, shushing them up. They weren't idiots. Of course, they knew who she was.

The Elder cleared his throat. "What is your business in Ok-Sa and with us?"

She shrugged, showing nonchalance despite the gears turning in her head. "Coincidence," was all she contributed. Already, she had spied enough exit points from this room. She would have to take a gamble about where they led, but as long as she could move, as long as she could get somewhere, she'd take that path. If there was something to succeed in killing a fowl, it was inaction.

"Do you know why you are here, in this trial room?" the Elder continued.

Elred felt her features shift into a flat but hard stare. "No."

The Elder bobbed his head in slow motion, as if he was not surprised but disappointed at the answer she gave. Well, let him. Letting people down had become her chosen sport. She didn't have the time for this stupid trial either. "Elred Valkalin stands on trial for leading armed militia to the western region, disturbing the peace. As well as trespassing, destruction of premises, and espionage."

A hand shot up in the air. "It's me who must be blamed, Tarmis," Yarli, the dark-skinned renegade shouted from the back of the audience. Elred turned to the sound of his voice and noticed he had changed from a dark yellow robe to something more brown. "I brought her to camp and offered her sanctuary. As for the armed militia...I fear I cannot speak on her behalf."

So, he helped drop one of her charges. There's still a million things to go on. Elred wasn't really paying attention.

"She's not a spy," Savel's blond head shot up, his voice carrying all the way from the rim of the benches to where Elred knelt. It looked like his enunciation lessons paid off. "She's looking for me and happened to trace me to you."

Instead of being relieved, the pit in Elred's gut only deepened at the unimpressed glare imprinted on the Elder's face. No. What has he done? It would seem he had admitted leaking the renegades' location, making him some sort of accomplice to Elred's charges. What a way to destroy the trust of the Elder. She needed the renegades to keep Savel and Reza safe when she clearly couldn't. She couldn't let it end like this.

"Please, Tarmis. She was only—"

"I didn't come to find him. My husband isn't someone who needs me. He can take care of himself, enough to know to never leak confidential information about the people who are helping him," Elred interjected, drawing the Elder's attention to her. Savel would get what she's saying. He has to. "And you are right."

The Elder's eyebrow cocked. Elred pushed on. "That day, I just escaped capture and failed to shake my pursuers off my tail. I didn't know where I was—I wasn't versed in the ways of the cities below the ground—and continued running. The next thing I know, I was in Ok-Sa, and your noble men, Yarli included, have saved me from them. Hence, the trespassing, the disruption of peace, and the destruction of premises. Most of it was done by your warriors. I do not have access to my synnavaim right now."

"I assume it is connected with the recent altercation with the Queen of Helinfirth?" the Elder tapped a finger against his thigh, as if he, too, couldn't wait to get this over with. What's the point of a trial if they already have their decision? "How can you prove you didn't run from the Glass Mountain only to hide among our ranks? How can you be sure Helinfirth wouldn't come knocking and demand you from us?"

Elred's nostrils flared. The Elder wasn't finished. "The Renegades have never stood on a more perilous ground since the Cardinic Wars. We wish to stay removed from the chaos in the world above, and your presence only heralds something we are not prepared to face."

Amusement bubbled in her throat. It came out as a sardonic chuckle. "What makes you think the war won't reach you?" she said. Her voice sounded thin and derisive in her ears. How would it have sounded to the Elder and to the audience? She's downright mocking him to his face. "Maybe it's already here, and my arrival has nothing to do with it. But by all means, take me to prison and believe you can delay the inevitable."

Anger made the Elder's eyes flash. "You are not going to prison," he said, filling her with false relief, because he continued, "You're going to be executed."

Elred lashed out, calling forth the warmth she had been nursing at the tip of her veins since she dismounted from their ride. Glass clinked from her fingertips, hardening into sharp shards to chase people away from her chosen exit. Then, casting one last look at Savel and Reza, she turned towards the dark and arcane opening.

She started running.