Aria was in her happy place.

The cool, crisp arkalite stone table surrounded the grand hall in her Opalace. It was a large, opulent building with domed roofs that housed only the best Excelliars. From the youngest of apprentices to fully fledged Traited with all manner of abilities and Traited alike. Aria's mother; Lady Gracia had resided over the Stone Throne just like generations of ancestors before her.

It was one of the only monarchies left after the current Caldorian dynasty had fallen to ruin. The rest had opted for democracy or clinging to a higher power. The only power Aria needed to rely on was her Light Trait and her Oathed.

The white marble seats were intricately spaced around her while the space for her Regent to stand resolutely at her side. It was empty. The shadow of a familiar hat morphed into a familiar mop of ginger hair.

Aria blinked.

The intricately decorated room became cluttered with dust and all manner of knick knacks, boxes, supplies and medicine clustered together. All of it had been thrown next to semi piles of unusable weapons twisted by heat and rust in the worst attempt at a cleanup she'd ever seen.

Much to her dismay, Aria wasn't in Opalis. She was stuck in a dilapidated inn, surrounded by people she hated and struggling to find some semblance of privacy despite the goings on outside. The cramped room didn't help either. The scattered yells and distant banging woke Aria out of her daydream, resisting the urge to clutch her head so she resorted to squinting at the low light.

"Please, please I'm innocent! I'm begging you! I wasn't even in Opalis that night, I can't even scrape together a living to survive in Beggar's End let alone risk the Ascent to Opalis."

The Throneholder gave the face of her enemy a cruel smile, Rider's pitifully scarred face pleading up at her. She blinked. A much older face was covered in soot and haggard from work in all conditions. The raggedy dressed man looked close to tears but whether they were out of fear or frustration she didn't know.

"Are you suggesting the Greengather bridge isn't worth your time?"

Aria attempted to hide her shaken expression over her own failing mental state. The kneeling man was still unknown to her despite being the one to summon him. She glanced around the room at the other representatives, noting how many were missing but felt the familiar comfort of her dragon lounged behind the back of her chair. Ethros was still beside her. That made things easier.

"No, no. But why would I risk heading up there without any Guilars to pay the toll, we don't even celebrate Brinehearth! I'm a Shadecaller, I turn out the street lights during the festival, that's all I swear!"

Aria did her best not to look bored, the familiar back and forth between the two reminding her of every other interrogation in the last few hours. Unlike her own boredom other representatives bore varying expressions of outrage, awkwardness and uncomfortableness towards Morales' candour. It was a verbal execution of not only his character but any other Traited associated with him.

"So you admit to being there the night of the Scholar's Keep disaster? Of course a Shadow Traited like you would bend to the whims of any flame wielder." Moralez drawled, somehow dragging this out even more than Aria thought possible.

The Throneholder was even more irritated by the vague assumption but stayed silent. The accused was kneeling before him morbidly, the overly dressed Caithsee turned quickly to address the group, the cat kin's whiskers twitching nervously.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for Traited like us to get a job? My family, they need me or they'll have no one to defend them against the demons. The Excelliars can't spend the resources to venture so far down the Undercity. You of all people should know that."

Moralez liked to act far more important than he actually was. His ornate, scholarly robes were just as fake as his attempts at intimidating the poor miner in front of her. But the overly pompous Caithsee was the only one who responded to her summons at such short notice. She had to make do.

"You should've thought of that before you crossed our Throneholder and-"

"That's enough, Moralez. Let him go. He's telling the truth."

In a blink of an eye the proud dragon grew from no bigger than her arm to the full height of the ceiling and back again just to threaten an adjudicator. Caithsee lowered his head in a far more obedient posture. Ethros' command had transformed him from a no nonsense investigator to a meek and mild researcher attempting to placate an angry dragon.

Aria couldn't help but give Ethros a well meaning scritch on the head. The dragon's shapeshifting abilities surprised her no matter how many times he did it. Provided he didn't add Caithsee to his diet, Ethros could choose whatever size he wanted.

"But, Lady Aria. I'm sure..."

"I'm sure about my dragon's innate abilities unless the First Law doesn't apply to Caithsee?" Aria reminded him pointedly, her glare harsher than any dragon.

Moralez yowl made Aria's mouth tweak upwards in a smile, the startled cat man confirming the stereotypes of his Caithsee brethren but her dragon remained unamused. He yawned loudly and shifted in his position behind Aria's chair, acting more like a cat than any Caithsee ever could.

"Of course it does, my Throneholder. We Bookeneeers reside on your lands after all. I would never assume..."

The adjudicator's gaze settled on the fading bruise on the side of her jaw. Aria's injury had attracted more attention than anything she had said so far. It didn't help that the miner who had attacked her was right there in front of her.

Hawkinson.

He had managed to slip by undetected by her guards after one of her rookies had incorrectly tagged an eight year old girl as a potential Shadow Traited. Aria didn't know her name. But she was without a dragon or a grimoire so finding out what type of Traited was incredibly difficult when the poor girl didn't know herself.

Instead of attempting to placate the crowd and inform a superior officer the girl was dragged away kicking and screaming instead and the crowd got ugly. One of her Excelliars hit her a little too hard with his Air Trait. She broke her neck on impact.

The protestors immediately turned on him and before Aria could even attempt to heal her Hawkinson had decked her in the jaw and the girl had faded to ash. She couldn't survive without a dragon.

"Then do not assume my expertise in the field of detecting deception, Caithsee. I am no Scale Shrieker dragon. I am a Truthkeeper not you."

Ethros' growl broke Aria out of her stupor, the sight of not one but six piles of ashes scattered to the winds. She couldn't even collect what they could to help cremate them or provide some kind of burial. The Undercity didn't even have that.

A loud clap alerted her to the rightmost chair nearest the exit, still cramped next to his associate. Fidget and Gizmo. Despite the small stature, the Tinker Mole leader was larger than life but stuck in a routine built by tradition. His twin brother Gizmo beside him didn't exactly make it any easier.

"Alright, alright. We've seen enough. No one is doubting your truth telling abilities, Ethros. Least of all a Novawraith dragon." Fidget said tiredly, making sure to relay the information to those who were unaware.

Aria smiled evenly at the Gadgeteer guildmaster, his kin still unable to decide between the headstrong younger brother Gizmo next to him or Fidget himself. She couldn't help but be quietly impressed by his knowledge, the varying degrees different dragon's could detect lies depended on their upbringing and their aptitude. Aria was surprised that Tinker Mole knew even that.

Her Oathed was an albino Novawraith and was one of the best Truthseeker dragon's around. Unlike her Regent's partner who needed more time to process each individual sentence or change in body language; he could do it in seconds. The only problem was when a dragon lied to protect themselves. After all, a dragon could lie to a Traited but a Traited could not lie to a dragon.

"Clearly this poor lamplighter wasn't involved just like the other forty two innocent Shadow Traited you've called in to interrupt this meeting, Throneholder. What's your game other than wasting our time?" Fidget continued, crossing and uncrossing his claws much like his namesake.

"You would say that, Dimmer. Aren't you related to that type of Traited?" Moralez hissed, defending her long before Aria could defend herself.

Gizmo the scrappy, younger Tinker Mole brother stood up immediately and reacted to the challenge.

"Is that a threat, cat kin or are you forgetting who holds the power over the Hive you call home, hmm? One word to Calavaros and he'll be ripping up trees quicker than you can say-"

Gidget yanked his brother by the fur and forced him back into his seat, his things spilling out from multiple pockets. He attempted to collect them with his claws but the damage to his pride had been done.

"I apologise for my brother's outburst, Moralez but in response to your question, no." Fidget responded, his voice far more reserved.

Gizmo forcibly bowed his head in apology, the Tinker Mole too quick to anger and defend himself. The smug Caithsee who sat at the end of the table didn't exactly help things.

"We Tinker Moles may have similar attributes to Traits but our Craft requires a conduit to use, a type of stone to imbue our power in before unleashing it. But, considering you are a legendary scholar you'd think someone like you would know that." Fidget added, giving the Caithsee a well meaning smile.

The jitters from the other representatives clearly stated their approval for Fidget despite his joint proxy as guildmaster. The only one who didn't approval of his putdown was the Caldorian representative, wearing her signature blue cloak. Aidari the Stormkeeper.

"Back to the task at hand, if you please. You may go, Shadecaller Hawkinson. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about Gracie."

Aria blinked. It took a moment to recall the young victim's name but once she did everything fell into place. Garrus Hawkinson was her father. She was Gracie Hawkinson. Eight years old. Potential Shadow Traited.

She signalled for the miner to be released

and roughly unhooked from the Light Trait bound ropes he had been tied in. The quietly spoken man didn't say a word, his energy spent from his earlier outburst. All he did was give the Stormkeeper a gracious smile and waited.

The Throneholder immediately recognised the familiar sparks of Trait long before the escort guard arrived. Aria gave her the first genuine smile that day. Skyla's braid of blonde hair bounced alongside the awkward salute she gave, the Throneholder attempting to ignore the blush that crept up her face.

"Apologies won't bring her back, Lady Caldor. But I appreciate the concern. Your Regent was right about you though, Lady Throneholder."

Aria blinked, the jolt of anxiety washing over her. The thought of both her current and previous second in commands sent her spiralling.

"I'm sorry?"

"Lady Ixis. My niece. Your Regent. Did you not recognise my surname?"

Aria tried to recall it but she couldn't. All she could do was stare.

"...It must've slipped my mind."

Skyla nudged him out of the door but the man couldn't help but give her one last warning.

"Well, then. Regardless of what awaits us all, myself and...my Gracie included. The demons wait for no Traited, Lady Aria. Not even you."