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Chapter Text

Garreth never asked for the life he was given. He was fine with being a prince; that was all he expected to be. He had two older siblings, Oscar and Celia, in line for the throne. He was a spare royal, but that was fine with him as that meant less expectations on him.

Until…the dry season that occurred when Garreth was only seven. He remembered Oscar and Celia went to Falmouth to help the House of Longbottom with Duke Lewis Prewett for training. They were supposed to only help provide solutions on how to prevent a famine. They weren’t supposed to get caught in a wildfire, but even at the ages fourteen and twelve, they were still noble enough to try to save the townspeople.

Falmouth only had three casualties: Oscar, Celia, and Lewis.

Garreth remembered that day as if it was only yesterday. He was excitedly waiting for his siblings to return so they could try out his vulnerary. He stood in the throne room with his parents and little brother Hector, holding his vial he was proud to make.

Only for a soldier to come in alone and remove his helmet to reveal his grieving expression.

Garreth’s vial shattering on the tiled floor was deafened by his mother’s mournful wail.

Ever since then, Garreth was no longer just a royal. He was now the heir to the throne. His father took him under his wing, whisking him away from the alchemical practice to learn societal rules and financial arrangements. He was able to keep up with it all, but his shoulders were growing heavy from the gravity of expectations.

Then he was taken off guard again.

He was fourteen when his father visited his quarters. Garreth hastily put away his alchemy book, but his father still caught him with it. He winced and bowed his head.

“Father, I—”

“It’s quite alright, son,” his father tiredly said.

Garreth caught the tense gaze in the king’s hazel eyes. “What is it?”

Henry took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead with his fingers grazing the golden circlet. “Do you know how we’re good friends with the kingdom Matabeleland?”

“Yes,” Garreth warily answered with furrowed eyebrows. Surely, the decades-long camaraderie didn’t break, right?

“And you get along well with the princess.”

Garreth chuckled. “Well, she was nice enough to answer any questions I had, and I returned the fav—” He stiffened at the hopeful look his father had. His stomach flipped with dread. “No,” he incredulously said.

“It would be a good connection for our kingdoms,” Henry reasoned, as if to placate him.

“But an arranged marriage?” Garreth cried out, with his mind whirling. That was never something he had to do! He voiced this very concern when he had to step up and be the heir. And his parents told him he could marry who he wanted! Now they were taking back their word?

“The king is gracious enough to try again with our family.”

Resentment flared in him as he looked up at his father. “But I’m not Oscar!” Garreth exclaimed with angry devastation. “Nor am I Celia! I can’t fight as well as Oscar! I’m not as gifted in magic as Celia! Stop making me be like them! I’m not them! I’ll never be—”

“Enough!” Henry barked. He stepped forward, and Garreth’s eyebrows shot up, worried he went too far. But Henry merely put his hands on Garreth’s shoulders. Henry took a deep, shaking breath, and Garreth’s heart ached at seeing that same grief dim his father’s eyes. “I know we said you didn’t have to do this,” he quietly said with sympathy. “And I’m sorry, son. But you’re the heir now. That means you have to set aside your own wants and take on new responsibilities, despite your personal feelings. The kingdom always comes first, Garreth. And with the famines that plagued us recently, we’re struggling to keep our finances afloat for our subjects.

“The Matabeleland King is kind enough to also help with finances for this marriage.” A dowry, Garreth bitterly thought. Henry stared into his son’s eyes. “You get along with Princess Natsai, and I know you two will be good for each other.”

Garreth looked away. He didn’t feel anything romantic for Natty, though. He didn’t think he could change that. And she was the same, he could tell! But…he was the heir, he was going to be king. The kingdom always comes first.

“Okay,” Garreth whispered, meeting his father’s eyes. “I’ll do it.”

Henry smiled with relief and said, “I’m proud of you, son.”

Then why did he feel so miserable?

Sure enough, when he saw Natty shortly after, she gave him a kind smile, but she couldn’t look at him differently. He remembered meeting her during his siblings’ funerals, and how devastated she was over Oscar.

He knew he would never be able to take his brother’s place in her heart.

They still got along as friends, though, and she was mildly interested in his alchemy. But she did sometimes look the same way his family did when he mentioned wanting to innovate new creations. The same tight smile of “I want to support you, but I also don’t think this is a good idea”.

Then before he became of age, his parents wanted him to bond with people from all four of the kingdoms, so he was enrolled into Hogwarts Monastery, the Officers Academy.

That’s where he met Imelda Reyes.

Garreth had his legs stretched out across the steps of the spectator booth. He was reading an alchemy book and was intently looking into poisons when he felt something nudge his boot.

He looked over his pages to see a stern-looking girl in the black and gold academy uniform with her brown hair tied back into a simple ponytail. She apparently nudged him with a training axe.

“Yes?” He asked.

“If you’re just studying, can you do that in the library?” She asked with a hand on her hip.

“I was going to train,” he defensively replied. “I was just taking a break.”

She lifted an eyebrow at his book. He thought she was unimpressed, but then he noticed a curious shine in her chocolate brown eyes. “What’s the book?”

“It’s alchemy,” he said as he folded his legs to sit up properly. Then he stood up while closing the book before lightly dropping it onto the wooden bench. “And yes, I know that as an heir, it’s not in my line of duty to look into it. And yes, it’s just pursuing a dream that won’t go anywhere as I’ll be ruling Fyorridg soon. And yes—”

“Calm down, lion boy, you can go after whatever you want,” she remarked.

Garreth blinked. Did she just call him “lion boy”? “Well, you’re the first to say something like that,” he muttered.

“Just as long as you don’t drop your responsibilities as a ruler.”

He sighed heavily and walked past her. “And now you’re just like everyone else.”

“What, you can’t be an alchemist and a king?” She asked.

“That’s not what history dictates, nor tradition,” he argued.

“So?”

He stopped and slowly turned back to her. Now he recognized her. That Rinelysth heir had his three friends, and this was the uptight one. But she looked at him with some understanding.

“My father is Philip Reyes of Rinelysth.” His mind brought up the fact the Reyes House was of minor nobility. They were close to Fyorridg, actually. “He has followed the same legacy of being a knight of the royal family for the past four generations. I intend to do it too, but” —her eyes shone with determination—“I do it as a Wyvern Lord. Not some cavalier.”

“You have something against horses?”

“Horses can’t help you in combat as well as a wyvern. Not to mention wyverns have more strength and speed than pegasi or even the rare hippogriffs.”

He perked up at how matter-of-fact she sounded. She put in quite the research into what she wanted.

She leaned on her other leg. “So what do you fight with?”

He shrugged and gestured to the criss-crossed blades laying on the floor. “It’s a bit unorthodox, but I dual-wield swords.”

She waved it away. “I intend to wield a lance as a Wyvern Lord.”

Garreth raised an eyebrow. “Then why use an axe?”

She huffed. “Because I was raised to train with a lance,” she exasperatedly explained. “I first planned to be a Pegasus Knight until I found out wyverns were faster, so now I have to train with an axe—”

“Slow down, snake girl,” he jokingly replied with a smirk. She looked surprised before frowning. He chuckled. “What, I can’t give you a nickname?”

She looked away with a faint blush. “Just shut up, pick up your swords, and let’s spar. That’s why you’re here, so let’s go,” she ordered.

Garreth laughed to himself, thoroughly amused by this girl telling him, a king-to-be, what to do. He knew that this school was where he and others dropped their titles, but it still amazed him that she easily addressed him like an equal. As if they were just students, and not a prince and a minor noble.

He preferred this.

He picked up the training swords and clattered them against each other. “I don’t think we properly met, as in, officially.” He grinned at her before getting into a readied stance. “I’m Garreth.”

“Imelda,” she replied while holding her axe with both hands. She gave him a daring look before charging ahead…

From then on, they had an unspoken tradition of always sparring with each other. They were evenly matched for the most part, and Garreth was impressed by her prowess in combat. Even when she faced off with him during the mock battle of the Eagle and Badger.

She managed to sweep his legs so he would fall onto his back, and then she put her boot on his chest with her steel axe blade close to his neck.

How could he not fall for her?

If he didn’t then, it was when he was looking into the craftsmanship of Venin Edges. Granted, he was looking into it after he got stabbed by such a blade while fighting thieves.

His forearm had veins showing in green all around the diagonal slash. He turned it over and looked at it from another angle. It was numb in the wound, but also gave an irritating pinched feeling in his arm as if it hurt to even move an inch. Natty, Leander, Hector, and all the other Red Lions just left to give Madam Blainey privacy to do her healing.

Blainey came over and firmly held his wrist to keep him still. Then she calmly poured a solution of yellow liquid onto the poisoned wound.

“That’s not piss, right?” Garreth asked with a curious sniff. It didn’t smell like it.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Blainey dryly answered. “The antivenom is crafted from wyvern urine.”

Garreth chuckled as he felt the pinching go away. The green veins were shrinking, and soon, all that was left was a normal flesh wound. “I know it’s not. I managed to make the antivenom at the age of eight.”

“Your family must be proud.”

“You would think,” he muttered under his breath as he watched Blainey hover her other hand over the cut. Her hand started to glow white with Faith magic, and the wound slowly closed up, as if it never happened.

“There you go. Good as new,” she announced before dropping his wrist.

“Thank you, Madam Blainey,” he said as he got up from the infirmary’s cot. He started to roll down his sleeve and he twisted the arm, making sure there was no problem.

He walked out of the infirmary and nearly ran into Imelda.

“Imelda!” Garreth exclaimed as she jumped back with a yell. She stumbled and tried to regain her balance by flailing her arms. He hurriedly grabbed her hand and pulled her close. She was now flush against him, staring up at him, completely shocked. He breathed a little easier now that Imelda wasn’t in danger of falling, but his heart was pounding while warmth rushed through him. Her other hand that pressed on his chest seemed to burn through his House Leader uniform.

She blinked, breaking whatever entranced them, and she cleared her throat while stepping away from him. He slowly let her go and couldn’t help but notice he felt slightly colder now.

“I…heard you were injured, so…” She trailed off.

Garreth perked up, and he couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face. “Imelda, were you worried about me?”

“For the sake of your kingdom,” she insisted, but her lovely blush said otherwise.

He chuckled. “Right,” he said, clearly telling her he didn’t believe her. He stepped closer to her this time, and he watched her eyelashes flutter as she gazed up at him. “Like someone from Rinelysth would be that worried about the Fyorridg heir,” he added in a lowered voice.

Imelda didn’t say anything, but he saw something in her chocolate brown eyes. What he wouldn’t give to drown in them… His heart skipped beats as he saw the same wonder in her stare that he felt about her. She did feel the same!

He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, and she inhaled sharply and turned her head away. “Er…are you good to spar now?” She asked, even leaning a little back while crossing her arms.

He smiled. While he might not be a mind reader, he knew how much it meant for Imelda to ask him to spar with her. Outside the Training Grounds. “I am,” he affirmed.

“Good,” she replied before swallowing hard. She moved to the side, and he eagerly walked on her left.

As the two walked down the hallway, he said, “I was also thinking about the alchemical work in Venin Edges.”

“A small brush of death, and you want to look into the weapon responsible for it?” She wryly asked.

He chuckled. “I was wondering if it was possible other poisons could in turn make a stronger Venin Edge.” He shrugged. “The weapons are crafted from Venom Stones, which I believe are just stones imbued by some sort of toxin. If I could figure out where that toxin comes from, then I could possibly try a different combination and—” He sighed and stopped. He did again where he just talked endlessly about alchemy. He knew no one else wanted to hear it; no one in his family was interested.

“Maybe you could look into different poisonous plants. That’s where alchemical poisons come from, right?” Imelda suggested.

He turned to her with pleasant surprise before smiling. “I admittedly didn’t think of that first, but that sounds worth looking into.” His smile grew more fond. “Thank you.”

She blushed more and looked straight ahead, but he saw her fighting a smile. “You’re welcome.”

If only he wasn’t betrothed; he could easily see himself looking after Fyorridg with Imelda by his side…

His father often sent him letters throughout the academy year too, reminding him about the arranged marriage. It drove Garreth to the point where he would bury them under stacks of books in his room. He didn’t have proof, but he believed Aunt Matilda was the one that let his father know about how he was spending a lot of time sparring with a certain Rinelysth minor noble. Why else would his father give him encouraging words about getting the Mortal Savant class but then have the last sentence be: “Remember the kingdom always comes first”?

Then the kingdom didn’t come first in his mind when he almost blurted out his feelings for Imelda after they sparred late one evening. But as much as he wanted to drop everything and have a choice and be with the one he truly loved, she was adamant in keeping anything from happening. She reminded him he was betrothed, and he was back in the reality of accepting his responsibility to do what the kingdom needed.

The kingdom always comes first…

“Garreth!”

He snapped his eyes open, seeing his desk and alchemy notes in the corner of his eye. He groaned and lifted his head up from the desk, rubbing his cheek that was numb from laying on it for so long. His circlet of a crown pressed into his skin too, but he simply readjusted it. He got used to the heavy weight of it years ago anyway.

He sighed deeply as he rubbed his eyes. He asked over his shoulder, “Yeah?”

“Leander, er, wanted me to get you,” Hector reported.

Garreth straightened, knowing what that meant. Lucan and Leander recently came back from a small excursion with a specific prisoner in mind. They had been looking for him for a while, but they still had to make sure they got the right man. If Leander wanted to retrieve him, then their suspicions were confirmed.

He looked at his little brother. Hector was wearing an outfit similar to the academy uniform, only this time, the double breasted jacket was mainly maroon red with golden center and golden outlines. His red hair had grown only a little and he tied it into a tiny ponytail behind his neck.

Garreth nodded and got up from his chair, his cape fluttering from his movement as he grabbed his swords on the way out. Hector let him pass, and then followed from behind.

“What did he do?” Hector asked while Garreth strapped his swords on. “The prisoner?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered in response. “He’s going to pay for the heinous crimes he committed after the Hogwarts battle, and that’s all you need to know.”

“The…gallows?”

He shook his head as he tightened the belt around himself. “No.” The gallows were too merciful.

When they walked down to the first floor, though, Garreth stopped and looked at the dorm room that was three from the greenhouse. Cressida’s room… He looked over and saw Nellie’s room not far away from it.

He closed his eyes with furrowed eyebrows as sorrow washed over him again. He took a deep breath.

“Don’t come with me,” Garreth told his younger brother.

“But—”

“I’m serious,” he insisted with a stern look over his shoulder. If he can help it, he would keep Hector from seeing too many horrors of war. And this was one of those times.

Hector sighed and stayed where he was. Satisfied, Garreth continued on toward the monastery…

Garreth made it to the prisons and holding cells under the academy. There had been people even in his academy year waiting to be judged and later carry out their sentences in these very cells. But now, it was full of war criminals and prisoners.

Garreth heard some small chatter until he walked into the view of the prisoners. He knew some of them were eyeing his identical sheathed swords, and he wryly smiled to himself. He probably looked more insane to them with his dim sea green eyes, dark circles, and somehow immaculate appearance of a king.

He walked over to where Professor Sharp, Captain Cael, and Leander were standing. Cael was in his metal suit of armor like usual, with his hair neatly swept to have his bangs tucked behind his right ear. Garreth knew that under the armor, he still had that bandaged arm from the mongrel attack while escorting Artemis.

Sharp, the former Training Grounds instructor and overseer, kept his dark hair the same length of a mane as he had during their school year. He wore his Myrmidon outfit of black and gold that matched the Hogwarts color scheme. The tunic was pure black while he had on golden shoulder plates, arm guards, and greaves. His large scar ran down the side of his left face, going from his forehead down to his jawline. He had his silver sword sheathed on his left hip while he favored his right leg.

Leander was wearing his War Master attire of maroon dyed steel armor. The chestpiece had the head of a lion, and he had on golden arm guards, leaving his upper arms bare like Garreth. He had on a thick, long cape of maroon lined with fur, as well as a thick belt holding a wide cloth that draped between his bare, toned legs and went past his golden-armored knees. He had on golden boots, and his silver axe was strapped diagonally across his back. His fire-red hairstyle was trimmed on the sides while the full head of hair on top was swept to the left, the bangs draping over part of his freckled face.

“Afternoon, chaps,” Garreth greeted to add some levity in this grim place.

“Your Majesty,” Sharp replied with a respectful nod.

Cael merely lowered his head with wariness in his russet brown eyes.

Leander simply stepped aside to give Garreth room. “It’s him,” he said with confidence and eyes gleaming with righteous anger. Garreth saw his fists closing into tight fists. There was a reason why Garreth was better off taking care of this than Leander.

Garreth looked at the man in the cell. An ash blond man in green and silver armor, but the plating wasn’t like his of the Hero class, nor the War Master class Leander had on. It was the clunky armor of the Warrior class. There were enormous shoulder plates with the one on the left shoulder having three large spikes going straight up. There was a fur mantle on the man’s back that covered a cape that spread to be sat under his rear. He also wore armored shorts with a kilt of some kind only draping down the center between the legs. His boots only went mid-calf, still caked in dirt and blood.

“Commander,” Garreth said in a low voice. It took plenty of willpower to not stab him through right now.

“Your Majesty,” the man replied. He spat on the ground before chuckling. “I must be honored to be graced by your presence.” He mockingly bowed. “I’m sorry to hear about your engagement. That princess is a beaut.”

Leander stepped forward, already red in the face with indignation. Garreth stopped his best mate with his arm out. “Natty wished to come see you too, but she doesn’t lower herself to talk to measly worms.”

“But you do.”

“I’m the king, I kind of have to get my hands dirty,” he said as he nonchalantly put his hand on his sword’s hilt. He saw a spectating prisoner in a nearby cell move a little away. He glared down his nose at the sneering man. “But not as dirty as your hands are.”

“Please,” the man scoffed. “The Reaper is far worse about claiming souls than I am.”

If the commander expected Garreth to quiver in his boots about Rinelysth’s killing pet, he was going to be waiting forever.

He stepped closer to the bars, not hiding his contempt for this lowly being. “The Reaper is far more merciful. At least he only kills. He’s more human than you.” The commander’s smugness went away as he realized what this was about. “Oh yeah, didn’t think we’d find you, eh?”

The commander didn’t say anything, and Garreth’s fury manifested into a snarling lion. He looked at Cael, and the soldier walked to the door, unlocking it for Garreth.

Garreth walked in and unsheathed his swords. In the dim light, the metal seemed green like the bronze weapons did. The commander let out a small laugh of disbelief.

“Leander, give him your axe,” Garreth casually requested.

Leander glanced at him, but Garreth nodded in reassurance. His friend was still hesitant to take off his silver axe and drop it between the bars.

The commander’s laughter died out as he stared at the weapon. His beady eyes flicked at the axe before up at Garreth.

“Pick it up,” Garreth ordered.

“Why?”

“Because I want to give you a fair chance.”

The man still didn’t seem to understand, but he took the axe anyway and stood up. He only barely reached Garreth’s height, but he had more muscle mass. Garreth could feel himself be sized up under the man’s scrutinizing gaze, but he wasn’t deterred.

“If you nick me, I’ll let you go,” Garreth offered.

The man scoffed and easily twirled the axe in a full circle with one hand. “And if I kill you?”

“Well, I’m just a spare anyway,” he replied in an even tone. Maybe the man was surprised by his despondent answer, but he didn’t care.

He started to walk in a small circle, and the commander started to do the same, eyeing each other. It didn’t take long for the man to swing down with a yell, and Garreth easily sidestepped as the axe sank into the crumbly cobblestone ground. Garreth poked the man’s exposed arm with a jab of his sword.

The commander’s eyes widened before he let out a guttural shout and dropped the axe. He clutched his arm, and Garreth wasn’t fazed.

“It’s not like it’s acid,” he reasoned as the commander panted hard. He looked closer at the wound, seeing the small spot of blood be surrounded by black veins originating from there. “Hm, okay.” He was going to keep that in mind for his notes.

The commander seethed at Garreth’s casual response, and he fiercely picked up the axe and swung again. His performance wasn’t as strong as it was a second ago, and Garreth jumped back. He parried the second swing and slashed the other arm. He reacted the same way, even dropping his axe again, but the wound was larger with a horizontal cut across his bicep.

“See, I’ve been working on these swords,” Garreth explained while he tapped the two blades together, “for a couple years now. All I needed were some nice, ripe, poisonous plants. I think I refined them very well, but you know…” He sighed at the man grimacing in pain. “I needed a live subject for once.”

The man gaped at him. “You…you monster.”

Garreth actually stopped at that. He let out a short, shocked laugh. “Are you—?” He pointed a blade at him, and the man stepped back to get away from it. He turned to the three men outside the cell. “Did you hear—?” He returned his gaze at the man and he stifled a laugh. He chuckled, unable to help himself, and his shoulders started shaking. Manic laughter escaped him, and he was even bending over, seeing the man across from him look disturbed. Good.

Garreth managed to finally calm down and catch his breath. He sighed and twirled the swords in his hands. “That’s rich coming from you, commander,” he snarled with a baleful glare. Garreth kicked the axe toward him. The commander only stared at it. “You don’t like being toyed with, do you?”

“You’ll only torture me,” the man said back with a staggering breath. He looked at his first wound, horrified at the black spreading to his wrist and elbow. “Just kill me.”

Garreth cocked his head. “No,” he simply replied.

“You’re using me as a live experiment,” the man protested.

“Like you haven’t used anyone?” Garreth demanded. “Tell me their names.” The commander stiffened, and he even paled as Garreth pointed a sword at him. “Your only saving grace is telling me their names. Then maybe you’ll die quickly.”

The commander opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish. “I-I-”

Garreth grew impatient and slashed at the man’s right leg. He screamed and fell down, clutching his thigh with a large wound rapidly turning black. Garreth was able to quickly recognize he hit one of the bigger veins in his leg. So the bigger the vein, the faster the poison spreads. Good to know.

Garreth swung down hard onto the man’s left leg, digging the blade into his shin. The man yelled louder, his agony resounding through hundreds of prison cell bars.

“Tell me their names!” Garreth shouted over the man’s pathetic whimpering.

“I-I don’t know! I don’t know!”

Garreth gritted his teeth and moved the sword up, and the man howled in pain as his hand flew to his cut cheek. The poison was mixing with the blood seeping through his fingers, making it look like pure black liquid was oozing out.

“Cressida Blume and Nellie Oggspire,” Garreth barked to be heard when the man’s insufferable crying subsided enough. “Two soldiers you captured after the battle to have your sick way with. And if that wasn’t vile enough, you still ran like a coward away from the justice that should have been delivered MONTHS AGO!” He slammed the flat of his blade against the cell bars, making the man flinch and scramble away, still holding his poisoned cheek.

Garreth stalked over to him like a lion cornering its prey. He looked right into the man’s eyes, taking in the pure terror and anguish in them, and pointed his sword at his chest. “So pick a god and pray.”

The commander snivelled. His breathing was shaky and he was sweating immensely out of fear. “P-please…”

Garreth didn’t let him finish as he swung one of the swords against his arm. The man yelled again, but then he looked at the wound. It was just red and bleeding like normal.

“Surprise,” he lilted before he cut the man’s other cheek. The red on one side contrasted with the black on the other.

The man was trapped in a corner, and Garreth stared him down, still fueled by vengeance. Garreth lifted an eyebrow at the shaking man; that must be a side effect of the poison in his system. His arm that was first poisoned had all of the veins be black, stretching up to his shoulder. His thigh was already in the same condition, and the black veins in his cheek had spread to cover half of his face. He kept making strangled noises as if it pained him to breathe, but he still needed air. He looked pathetic, and Garreth bitterly reveled in it.

“I’ll take this nice and slow,” he promised as he raised a sword. Poisoned or not, the man didn’t know.

“No,” the man gasped. “Please, no! No—” His pleading was cut short from yelling in anguish by another cut.

Garreth kept his promise as the sun was well below the horizon when he left the prison.

Chapter Text

“Do you feel better?” Garreth asked Leander as he sheathed his swords. They were walking out of the Entrance Hall, wanting some fresh air. Cael and Sharp left to get soldiers to dispose of the body.

“He suffered before he died,” Leander answered with finality. He looked up at the skies above the dwindled marketplace. The first stars were already shining brightly, but Garreth knew he was watching for something else. “He won’t hurt anyone else now…” He sighed, and he turned to Garreth. “I couldn’t do what you did. I would have strangled him right away if you weren’t there.”

Garreth shrugged. There were times he wanted to just kill him, but… “Then that would have been too easy and quick for him.” He looked skyward, and he smiled a bit. He nudged Leander with his elbow. “Hey, look who’s back.”

Leander did so, and he let out a small breath of relief.

A battalion of pegasus fliers was flocking from the east, turning to land on the path in between both sides of the marketplace. Once they did, Leander jogged down the steps with Garreth right behind him.

The leader of the pegasus riders dismounted, taking off her helmet, and ran up to Leander. She threw her arms around him, and he returned the embrace, holding her close.

Garreth smiled with a faint ache in his chest as he approached the two. He could see how less tense his best mate was in mere seconds, all because the one he cared about was back, safe and sound.

He watched the two move back only a little bit, and Leander leaned his forehead against hers with their red and black bangs pleasantly mixing together. She closed her eyes with the tiniest smile on her tan face.

Nellie was wearing her dark red and gold Falcon Knight armor over a black, long-sleeved tunic. The armor consisted of ornate shoulder plates, arm guards, greaves, and boots. Anything the armor didn’t cover, black clothing took care of it. Her hair was cut short months ago to a bob, but over the brief span of time, it now touched her shoulders.

Garreth didn’t want to interrupt their time, especially since he knew how worried Leander was for Nellie to go on with this task. But she insisted on not being sheltered all the time, that she needed to do something. It terrified Leander to not be there with her, but Garreth assuaged his worries best he could by giving Nellie one of his prototype poison blades. Practically a letter opener, but easily concealed and easy to slip out and stab if need be. Nellie also reassured Leander that it was just an escort mission, and she would return before he even knew it.

But Garreth knew from the look in her dulled, ebony eyes that she was scared, especially since at that time, they didn’t find that wretched man. Hence why Garreth decided to have Leander go on a manhunt to both distract Leander from fretting and to give Nellie some peace.

“I’m okay, Lee,” Nellie whispered as her hand went up to the back of his head.

Leander only nodded before carefully cupping her cheek. She leaned into his hand, staring into his eyes as if he was the only thing she needed. Maybe he was.

Garreth started to feel like he was intruding, but he saw the rest of the battalion dismount as well. They had more business to take care of. He quietly cleared his throat, and Nellie and Leander turned to him. They at least didn’t look peeved, merely wondering what he wanted.

“We should head in,” Garreth offered, gesturing to the monastery behind him.

“Of course, Garreth,” Nellie replied with a tiny smile. He was happy to see some light back in her eyes that were dulled so long from being haunted. The fresh air and travel must have helped her a lot more than they thought.

“And, I hope you had safe travels?”

She nodded. “And she was more than willing to come speak with you in person.”

Garreth looked past Nellie and Leander to the only person in the battalion that wasn’t wearing armor. She got off the pegasus without needing help, but she did nod in thanks to the soldier that offered a hand. She approached Garreth with a placid smile.

Theia Black, the firstborn of Phineas Nigellus Black, was the same age as Garreth. She had a heart-shaped face with fair skin and a faint scar across the bridge of her nose. Her thick black hair was kept back into a tidy, low bun with a hair stick made of turquoise. She had on a dark blue riding dress with the front open for black pants leading down to black riding boots.

Her nut brown eyes shined with friendliness before she crossed her arms and nodded to Garreth. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” she said.

He bowed at the waist in respect. “Ms. Black. And please call me Garreth.”

“Call me Theia,” she replied. She leaned on her other leg while her expression turned more solemn. “I understand you wished to talk to me about something?”

“Yes,” Garreth eagerly replied. He waved to the left off to where the fishing pond was. “Care to go on a walk?”

Theia shrugged. “That would be nice, since I spent most of my days flying.” She turned to Nellie with a compassionate smile. “Thank you for the escort. I felt protected like never before.”

“It was my pleasure,” Nellie replied. She looked up at Leander. “I’ll need to stable my pegasus.”

He nodded. “I’ll come with you,” he readily said. She gave him a grateful smile and interlocked her hand with his. Leander glanced at Garreth. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“That’s right,” Garreth affirmed. Tomorrow was yet another war council meeting, but Garreth had a feeling this one would be different. He gave the two a warm smile. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too,” Leander replied.

They parted ways with Nellie and Leander leading the battalion to the right where the stables were while Garreth walked side-by-side with Theia to the left.

“I do appreciate you coming all this way,” Garreth started.

“You were pretty insistent on meeting in person,” she mused.

“I think you would agree that this couldn’t really be discussed over letters.”

“You worried I would lie?”

“It was merely a precaution.”

Theia lightly scoffed. “I suppose considering the times we live in, I don’t blame you.” They slowed to a stop near the dock of the fishing pond. She stared at the dark water reflecting the stars above with an impassive expression. “But you know how I felt about my father.”

Garreth reached out and gently put his hand on her shoulder. “I know,” he solemnly said. “As insensitive as it sounds, that’s why I thought you would be the best person to give the truth and some answers.”

“You know I would love to incriminate him, even if he’s dead,” she bitterly said. She turned to directly face him with resignation. “But that tragedy? Fifteen years ago at Falmouth?”

Garreth’s heartbeat was numb in his blood as he thought back to that time. He nodded to confirm that was what he wanted to know. After the shocking death of Phineas Black five years ago, many deeds of his were revealed. Garreth started to consider maybe the wildfire that took the lives of his siblings and Leander’s father was preordained.

“My father was not affiliated with anything there.”

Disappointment shot through him like an ice curse from the Blizzard spell. He retracted his hand from her shoulder as he let out a sharp breath. “What?”

“He had nothing to do with it,” she reiterated. “He was busy with seeing Rinelysth nobles of the sacred twenty-eight.” She looked away with a clenched jaw. “I would know; he was trying to arrange a marriage for me.”

Garreth could tell she was at least telling the truth, but this didn’t make sense. He was certain Black was involved! “Is it possible he sent someone else to do it?” He asked, not yet giving up.

Theia shook her head. “I looked into my father’s connections at the time, and they were not even formulated then.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “And differing sides or not, why would my father want to eradicate one of the twenty-eight?”

Garreth sighed and rubbed his forehead, his finger running along the edge of his circlet. She had a point there. That man was obsessed with nobility and classism, only talking favorably to him and Ominis out of the four House Leaders. That detail always rubbed Garreth the wrong way, especially since he knew that while Andrew and Poppy weren’t descended from the founders of the kingdoms, they were still exceptional people.

“It was a long shot, I guess,” he muttered. “Or maybe he was an easy suspect.” He huffed. “I suppose I brought you all the way here for nothing. I apologize.”

Theia waved it off. “It’s fine, Garreth,” she reassured. “It got me out of the house.”

He chuckled for a moment before looking back at the pond. He wondered what it must be like to live in hiding for the most part, and not having to be involved in this awful war. Not having the pressure of looking out for an entire kingdom as well as the armies fighting three different sides…

“You mentioned an arranged marriage,” he said to change the subject. He glanced at her looking displeased again. “Did you get out of it?”

“I did,” she answered. “The only time this war was a boon was when it ceased all this kind of talk and arrangements. Enough for me to run away from that life.”

He eyed the turquoise hairstick. If he didn’t know any better, he would guess that was one of a few mementos she kept of her old life.

“And what about you?” She asked, looking back at him. “I remember years ago hearing of the famed betrothal between the heir of Fyorridg and the princess of Matabeleland.”

He wryly smiled. “War stopped that too.” It was Natty’s father, the king of Matabeleland, actually, that decided to stop pushing the betrothal. He said that he would honor their friendship with Fyorridg and financially assist the kingdom as well as provide numbers. He didn’t want to force his daughter and Garreth into something they didn’t want especially when they all knew how fleeting life could be. At least Garreth’s parents were relieved that their kingdom wouldn’t be in a poor state thanks to the help from their good friends in Matabeleland.

If only this happened while the academic year was going on. Then he could have pursued the woman he did love.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Theia asked into the open air as they heard the faint rippling of the pond. “It takes something as grim as a war to give us freedom in a way that doesn’t matter now.”

He nodded as his heart ached when his mind drifted back to Imelda again. As far as he knew, Imelda was still part of Sebastian’s troop, and they were in Crawelavn territory right now. They were probably trying to gain more ground, and Garreth was mainly just grateful he never had to cross paths with her. He didn’t know what he would do if that had to happen. Maybe he would try to talk Imelda into joining his side, but if he knew her, she wouldn’t defect. And…

The kingdom always comes first, he sadly thought.

Garreth cleared his throat. “I’ll take you to one of the guest rooms of the monastery,” he offered.

“Thank you.” Theia followed him to the two-level dorm building, and she smiled faintly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here…”

Garreth took her to the room on the far right of the first floor, having already prepared it before she arrived. Theia thanked him and bade him good night.

He walked further down before stopping at the fourth door from the right. He looked at the door made of oak wood like all of the other dorms. He had only seen this room from the outside, catching Imelda slip in and out of it when she was done with training or class.

He sometimes wondered what would have changed if he visited her the last night everyone was at Hogwarts before going separate ways. Would he have been able to convince her to stay with him then? Would they have at least been able to say good-bye? Or even…shared a kiss, something Garreth longed for ever since he fell for?

He carefully grabbed the knob and turned it, slowly opening the door. When he and the Fyorridg army came to Hogwarts a few years ago to have this as their main base of operations, all of the dorm rooms were dusted and cleaned for people to stay in.

Even so, Garreth surveyed the room, trying to picture what it must have looked like when Imelda stayed there. He smiled to himself, knowing a corner probably had three or four lances she kept in pristine shape with that homemade polish of hers. There were certainly whetstones she used up for said lances. Maybe there was a stand for her armor as well as a place for her axes. She probably had some mementos from home too, maybe something with the Reyes coat of arms.

He closed the door and walked away, knowing it was in vain to think too much about the past. No matter how much he wished for it, he couldn’t change it. He couldn’t have Imelda by his side, no matter how much he begged for her to be here. At this point, he can only hope she’s safe wherever she is. And maybe, just maybe, he would see her again when the war was over.

He looked ahead to see Cael and Artemis leave the greenhouse. His chest ached as he saw the two quietly converse with each other with soft, tender smiles. He was happy for them both, truly, but it just made him bitterly wistful to have what they had.

He saw Cael gingerly cup Artemis’s cheek before leaning down while she moved up. He turned around and went to the other set of stairs that went to the second floor. He didn’t want to disrupt the lovebirds’ time with each other.

The next morning, Garreth was the first one in the war council room, already wearing his Hero class armor, circlet, and his two swords on his hips. The room was on the same floor as the Audience Chamber, but in the east wing. There was a massive, elongated table with the map of all four kingdoms laid flat on it with color-coded figures. He briefly glanced at the silver pieces that were on the western side of Crawelavn before he went back to rifling through his alchemy notes.

He hoped to hear back from Natty this morning about the new innovation he had her try out. If they were fortunate, it was better suited for her and could help change things.

“That takes me back.”

Garreth stiffened before frowning, seeing his aunt Matilda at the door. She gave him a tired smile before walking closer to him. She still had on her half-moon spectacles, but her hair was more gray than red, with age showing as crow’s feet at the corners of her brown eyes. She still wore her fancy red and white robes she had on as deputy headmistress, along with the golden bracelets of Fyorridg royalty.

“What takes you back?” Garreth warily asked.

“Your alchemy notes,” his aunt explained with her smile still there. “You always had your nose in those books when you were younger. And all that studying seemed to have worked out for our side in these dark times.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and he looked at it before meeting her eyes again. “You’ve done a wonderful job as a king, Garreth. My brother would agree as well.”

Garreth wanted to believe that, but he frowned and moved away from her hand. His stomach churned with old resentment. “Now you commend me for my alchemy studying?”

She blinked and gave him a solemn look. “I know that in the past, we didn’t encourage—”

“So now that I’m using it for war, you all see the good it could do?” He demanded. He angrily dropped the edges of his notes so they were all neatly together.

“Garreth, we always knew you could—” “That’s a load of wyvern dung, and you know it,” he snapped, keeping his voice low. She frowned, but he glared back with a devastated look in his eyes. “You all loved me, yes, but I was also living in the shadows of Oscar and Celia.” Matilda looked worried but he swallowed back the tiny lump in his throat and continued: “My parents wanted me to learn sword and Reason to be a Mortal Savant. Both skills that my siblings had. None of you really encouraged me to follow alchemy. None of you gave me support for it. But now, when I use it because it’s the best I can offer to protect as many people as I can along with my kingdom?” He shook his head. “It’s too little, too late, Aunt Matilda. And you can tell my father that too.”

She stayed quiet, and Garreth looked away, not bearing to see her disheartened expression. He knew he resented his family a little whenever they didn’t let him pursue what he wanted, but he didn’t think it would hit this hard especially now.

“We just want you to be happy, Garreth,” Matilda quietly said. “I’m sorry we were too late to realize what mattered most to you.”

Garreth saw her reach out and pick up the silver piece on Crawelavn, and his heart squeezed as he knew she meant more than alchemy.

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” he choked out. “The kingdom always comes first.”

“Garreth—” She started, sounding sympathetic, but they heard more people bustle in. She put the piece back in its spot.

Garreth forced away his inner turmoil and planted an amicable expression on his face. Then he noticed the first person that came in, and he brightened.

“Emrys!” He called out with a smile. “I hope you bring good news for us from your scouting mission?”

Emrys Kingscholar pushed his narrow glasses back to the bridge of his nose. He had short black hair and onyx-dark eyes, with those features standing out from his light skin. He had a narrow build, which was mostly hidden under his black scholar robes.

Garreth remembered meeting the young scholar when they looked into the same kinds of books in the marketplace not long ago. They got to talking, and Garreth thought he would be perfect for gathering more intel on who was where. Emrys accepted with a thoughtful gleam in his eyes, willing to help his king who looked out for him and other subjects. Garreth always hoped and prayed Emrys would be safe on his missions as he didn’t want to let him down.

“I have news, but I don’t know if it would be good,” Emrys tentatively answered. He fiddled with his sleek, black leather gloves as he waited for more people to file in.

Garreth lifted an eyebrow and leaned closer to him. “How bad is it?” He asked in a lowered voice.

Emrys hesitated before saying back in a whisper, “It’s about the traveling of a Rinelysth troop.”

That doesn’t sound foreboding at all, Garreth thought, but he just nodded and waited for everyone to be here.

Cael came in, armored as usual, with Sharp limping close behind. Hector was next, going over to Matilda and greeting her with a hug. Leander and Nellie came in together, and Garreth thought he saw Nellie’s shoulders were more slumped. He could only hope she felt some peace when Leander undoubtedly told her about their latest prisoner. That alone made Garreth firmly believe he would do it again if it brought this hopeful result for Nellie.

A couple battalion leaders joined in, and then Lucan and Natty entered. Lucan got a growth spurt during the five years, standing tall just a couple inches shorter than Cael (who was admittedly taller than Garreth and Leander). His black hair that he used to have short and curly grew out to thick, unruly waves that cascaded down to his jawline. His caramel brown eyes were sharper from his time being a Bow Knight for the past couple years. His Bow Knight armor was sleek and decorative in Fyorridg dark red and gold with a large, scaled shoulder plate on his left shoulder to protect himself while shooting. His silver bow was slung on his right shoulder while his quiver of arrows was stashed diagonally across his back. He lit up at making eye contact with Garreth and smiled with a wave. Garreth waved back, pleased to see that the war didn’t take away all of his boyish charm.

Natty, on the other hand, walked like a true princess. She had an elegant gait as she walked over to her spot, keeping her head held high. She got rid of the bun she had during school and let it grow long enough for her to do dozens of tiny braids to then tie back into a thick ponytail. Her sleeveless leather armor showed her lithe figure with decently toned arms that had wide, golden cuffed bracelets at her wrists and biceps. She had on form-fitting leather armor pants that reached her knees, and then her calves were bare while she wore thin shoes made of hide that were common in her land.

She regarded Garreth with a warm smile before sitting in the chair beside Garreth. Even though they were no longer betrothed, they were still a compatible team. Not to mention it looked good to have the leader of Fyorridg and princess of Matabeleland side by side working together.

“Thank you all for coming,” Garreth said as his aunt sat down on his other side. He looked over his notes again before turning to Emrys, who was waiting patiently right next to him. “Now, please tell us what you found out on your excursion.”

Emrys nodded and cleared his throat as he stepped up to the table. “I was in a Crawelavn village at the western tip of the kingdom when I noticed the Crawelavn soldiers stationed there calling for everyone to stay in their homes until they said so.”

Garreth blinked while the others at the table conversed with confusion. What did that mean? What did it have to do with the Rinelysth army? He continued, “We did as told, and hours later, a Rinelysth troop walked just around the town before continuing south.”

“South?” Cael echoed, now perplexed. “Why are they going south, not east? I thought they were trying to gain more land in Crawelavn.”

“Was it a planned ambush?” Natty suggested. “Where the Crawelavn soldiers would wait to take them from behind?”

Emrys shook his head. “No. They stayed in the village for a day and a half before leaving and following.”

Garreth’s eyebrows furrowed as he mulled this over. He stared at the map, looking at the silver piece they put in Crawelavn. If they were heading south…

“Was it still Sebastian leading the troop?” He asked.

“I believe so, yes,” Emrys answered.

Garreth let out a short breath, rubbing his forehead. “I know where he’s going… And I think Andrew was able to tell too, so he’s planning ahead for a pincer attack.”

“A pincer attack?” Leander asked with a frown. “What do you mean?”

Garreth took out his sword, causing Leander, Sharp, and Cael to grimace as they remembered very well the damage it could do. He carefully angled the blade to move the silver piece further south into Ephul.

“Sebastian has revenge on his mind,” he solemnly said. “And I’ve played plenty of chess with Andrew to know he can read people like no other. Andrew knows Sebastian like I do, and if Sebastian believed who he wanted was close by…”

He stopped the piece near the Smith House, where Pugna Field was scrawled on it.

A shocked silence fell over the table. Everyone realized what this meant, and it felt surreal to accept such a thing was happening again.

The worst school reunion in history, Garreth somberly thought. He put away his sword.

“Unfortunately…it makes sense for us to go,” he said.

“You can’t be serious!” Leander exclaimed.

“Won’t we play right into their hands?” Nellie worriedly asked beside him. Leander nodded in agreement with her.

Cael merely sighed as he leaned his fist against his bearded cheek. “While that is true, us being there could also weaken the other sides and could bring us to victory. A final battle to stop this war.”

Garreth stared at him. As much as what he said was right, Garreth was aware that Cael had other intentions and even other allegiances. He knew Cael was trying to get to his sister, and this was the closest he was going to get. He didn’t think Cael would betray them, but he was expecting him to desert the army and maybe even battle if he got what he needed. Again, a luxurious freedom Garreth couldn’t have, and it made him admittedly jealous he couldn’t do the same.

“Cael’s right, and so is Garreth,” Natty calmly said. She stood up and put her hand on Garreth’s back, giving him a solemn, encouraging look. She faced the war council. “We have to think about what’s best for our future. We cannot keep dragging out this war. If this battle—as tragic as it will be—is what ends it, then we must take that chance.”

“We will need a lot of tactics for this one,” Lucan piped up. He looked so serious, dropping the attitude he had walking in. “No one will be treating it like the mock battle five years ago.”

“I agree.” Garreth looked over notes and spread them out. “I can confirm that my latest innovations for poison blades were very effective. Not to mention that I did some refinements on the poison barrels of a few of our gambit attacks. Rain shouldn’t dispel the toxins in the air, and I managed to craft an antidote for our side so we don’t need to worry about being affected when breathing the same air.”

He turned to Natty with an expectant look. “And, how was the last test?”

Natty smiled triumphantly. “I think it’s your best version yet, Garreth,” she praised.

He perked up, hopeful and excited. “No problems?”

She shook her head. “Not one. Lucan even helped with testing resilience and strength.”

“It was amazing, you should have seen it!” Lucan enthusiastically piped up with a bright shine in his eyes.

Garreth chuckled. “Maybe later.” He leafed through his notes until he got to the one for what Natty tried. After many trials and making sure it wouldn’t harm Natty when she tried it, he finally got it to work. “I’ll certainly talk to Artemis about harvesting more of her plants to make more.”

He thought he saw Cael stiffen a little, but he was used to people being wary about his alchemical work. If only his success in alchemy was for better reasons and not for advantages in war…

“I’ll get to work on that right after this, and then we will prepare to head out,” he announced. “Prepare to leave in the evening.” He looked at Cael. “Can we rely on the Hogwarts Knights?”

Cael lifted his chin. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

Garreth held back his insistence to drop formalities. He turned to Natty. “And our allies?”

She nodded with a determined look. “My warriors are ready to help fight.”

“Excellent. With the joined forces of Fyorridg, Hogwarts, and Matabeleland, we will be a formidable army against the others.” Garreth checked on everyone at the table. He was saddened at the discouraged expressions of his friends. Sharp and Aunt Matilda looked sympathetic as if they wished their former students didn’t have to be burdened with a war. Especially one that involved their friends and classmates. Cael and the other battalion captains merely looked accepting of this grim fate since they were trained for these drastic measures.

“Everyone, make the most of this time,” Garreth added. They knew what he meant, and he felt dread build up in his stomach. “You’re dismissed.”

Natty patted his back again, and stood up to leave with Leander, Nellie, and Lucan. Emrys bowed his head and left shortly after. Cael was quick to leave too, no doubt wanting to see Artemis before he had to head. Matilda and Sharp walked out with the battalion captains, discussing supplies and materials they would need for the upcoming battle.

Hector walked up to his brother. “So, what can I do to help at Pugna?” He asked, putting his hands behind his back like an attentive soldier.

“You’re not coming,” Garreth said in an even tone.

“What?” Hector gaped at him, dropping his hands down to his sides. “But…but I want to help.”

“You can stay here with Aunt Matilda and help keep this place protected,” Garreth gently replied.

“I’m not a child, Garreth,” Hector snapped back. “I went with you last time!”

Garreth frowned and folded up his notes to store inside his outfit. He headed for the door. “Last time was just for fun. This is war.”

Hector followed after him. “I know it’s war, Garreth, I’m not stupid! This war affects me too, and I want to help! Why won’t you let me?”

“Enough, Hector,” he said in a strained tone.

“Stop shutting me out! I can fight! Let me fight!”

“No!” Garreth shouted, whirling around to face him. “I don’t want you out there!”

Hector stood his ground and defiantly stared up at him. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t lose you too!”

Garreth sighed as he saw Hector blink in surprise. He ran his hand down his face before holding Hector’s upper arms, looking right into his mahogany brown eyes. “I know you were a lot younger when we lost Oscar and Celia,” he softly continued. Hector flushed with shame and looked down. Garreth’s heart ached as he knew Hector couldn’t remember them as well as he did. “But I don’t want our parents to lose two more of their children.” That day was seared into his memory, and he will never forget how his parents reacted when they heard the news. Hector looked up at him with distress. “In the end, if something happens to me, at least you’ll be here safe and sound. Okay?”

Hector searched his expression before he lowered his gaze in defeat. He nodded, and Garreth pulled him into a hug.

“I love you,” Garreth whispered.

“I love you too,” Hector whispered back in a hoarse voice.

Garreth didn’t want to think this would be the last day he would have with Hector, his dear little brother. He didn’t want to think that he would most likely run into Imelda, something he dreaded and tried to avoid. He didn’t want to think that he could lose another one of his friends too.

Eric, Cressida, Captain Regis, and countless others died in this war, fighting for a better future for them when this war was over. He didn’t want their deaths to be in vain. He would not let their deaths be in vain.

If his own death ensured that, then so be it.