Emerii cooled her rage. Idwyn was always that way. If it did not fit into her perfect plans she would discard that element. The Truthsayer had disliked her since she first became friends with Arty. The same was true for Royce, but with his father already being antagonistic, he was accustomed to that sort of treatment.

  The butting of heads would be something she would have to get used to and Arty would always take his aunt’s side regardless. Still, she was determined to join him on his journey. This was not a task that was meant to be done alone.

  As much as she hated it she would have to make some concessions to Idwyn in the morning to ensure that she was included.

  At least I did not make a fool of myself like those two begging children. They may have grown up, but some things never changed. Badgering their role models over and over again, instead of making a concrete plan of action. I know how they feel, though: being told to separate immediately after our reunion was disconcerting, to say the least. But I will not give up, and I will not show weakness.

  She looked up to the rough ceiling of the room she was afforded in the castle. Not of the guard, but a warrior like Arty, if she was not acquainted with the inner circles of Welkia she would not be given a room.

  Perhaps Idwyn was partly wary due to her ability, an understandable sentiment to some extent. It was difficult for even her to fight off the temptation of eavesdropping on others, but that was where her curiosity stopped. Emerii understood the danger of her deity. She had long abandoned such thoughts of imposing that on friends, coordinated attacks notwithstanding. Only gossip among servants and acquaintances made her contemplate the destruction of their privacy. Of course, she used it freely against enemies and those she disdained. In that sense, Idwyn was correct in worrying about her deity.

  The gauntleted fist rocked against Royce’s face, sending him tumbling to the snowy ground in the castle courtyard. The moon glowed unimpeded in the night sky, casting a light that was reflected by the snow, creating a shining night.

  Such beauty could not be admired however, he had things that must be accomplished, goals to achieve, and wills to bend before his.

  Royce attempted to rise to his feet, his hands sliding on the slick ground at his frenzied attempt, causing him to crash back to the ground.

  His father did not laugh. No softness was in his voice as he said, “Obey my orders. You will stay here and continue your duties and training. You are a solider of Welkia, a member of the Royal Guard.”

  Royce usually acquiesced by this point. But not this time.

  Fire erupted around him as he could feel the putrid sensation fill every joint in his body. He exerted his will upon the world, the flames surrounding him as fierce as the emotions that ran rampant in him.

  Water spilled over him, extinguishing his outburst. What he could do for the world was nothing compared to his father. Once the dousing cascade finished, Royce glowered at his father.

  A kick sent him rolling further.

  His father nodded to two of his underlings and they stepped forward, one on each side of Royce as they grabbed and hoisted him up. He tried to resist, but they held on firmly.

  “Perhaps some time in the dungeon will make you reflect. I’m disappointed Royce, you usually obey after a stern talking too, even if you rebel here and there.” The Lord Captain nodded again then they began to drag him off.

  He tried to dismiss the humiliation he was feeling. Wet like a dog, being dragged against his will to a prison that will be cold and unforgiving. His father would surely let him out, once Arty and company were already far away, too distant to try and meet up.

  I will not let that happen! I will join Arty and Emerii no matter what it takes!

  He could feel the wetness already dry, the effect of his father’s deity already disappearing from this world. His resolve hardened.

  Emerii finished the last of her meal, the fine midday feast a far cry from the plain rations that she and Arty had endured on their journey. Arty was downcast, no doubt due in part to a missing Royce, though only he and her had voiced concern. The Lord Captain or King Rowain would have some part in it. The other reason was the disappearance of Idwyn’s overbearing presence, no doubt a critical calculation on her part.

  If anyone knew the stubborn lengths Arty would go to, it was his aunt. Fitting then, to avoid him until the time of their departure.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Don’t look so sullen Arty,” The Queen who sat with her husband said. Younger than Rowain she wore more accouterments of gold and a white silk dress that clung in enticing ways. A gem of Welkia, and the perfect counterbalance to their plain ruler. “If only my sons were here, I’m sure they could assist you.”

  “Your concern is appreciated, but it is fine. Those two have their own duties.”

  Normal conversations proceeded, and it appeared as though Arty would venture into the city and see old faces, but Emerii excused herself.

  Dipping into an empty side room, the putrid sensation took hold as she extended her senses. If someone spotted her using her deity that may bring unneeded attention. Starting with the closest, she shared the vision of the person she felt. Once she confirmed it was not who she was looking for, she changed to the next. Snapping to the many souls she felt, she could reach most of the castle from this room, and the person she was hunting for would be unlikely to leave the compound.

  Then she saw the stretch of Liofeld. A view from on high, where even the snowy farmer fields could be seen. Herds of animals still gathered here and there, but the person’s vision stretched out to the horizon, not in any particular direction. Not towards the Uxsons or their other enemies, not even seemingly set on their allies. It was a frenzied gaze, searching for relief.

  When the eyes drifted down, she saw the perfect skin, the modest robes colored in different shades of dull blue, and the crystal armlet that was attached to the left arm. Emerii knew whose vision she was sharing.

  Opening one eye but continuing to share the other, she set out at a fast pace. Emerii had to make sure the woman did not leave the spot, but it was lucky she knew where the hidden spot was. One of the old lookout towers, but one that lacked a noticeable entrance. To access it Emerii had to sneak in through a small alley and take a conspicuous staircase downward to end up at the correct location to enter the tower.

  Rarely used, it was cursed to collapse like much of the architecture in Dradris.

  Emerii climbed the narrow pathway, finally releasing her ability. When she broke into the cold air, Idwyn did not even turn to acknowledge her.

  “I should have hidden further away, but I doubt that would have mattered. Your deity is impressive as always,” The Truthsayer said blandly.

  Emerii bowed quickly in deferral, “My apologies Lady Idwyn, but due to the matters being of utmost importance to me, I deemed it necessary to use my deity on you.”

  Idwyn turned and raised an eyebrow, “Come to beg like Artowen?”

  “Does it seem that way?”

  “No, you’ve never pleaded for anything. That is why I thought this visit so strange. Using my title is not something you would usually do.” A smirk rose to her face.

  “I’m coming with you. No one can stop or order me not to. With that in mind, I don’t mean to impede you, so on the journey I will obey your orders and show you proper respect.”

  “And? Certainly, that is not the weight of your resolve.”

  “I swear to never use my ability on you again. On my honor as a Drajin warrior.” This was the only major move she could play.

  Idwyn let silence take hold. Time slowed as their eyes met, until finally, Idwyn released her tension, “Is that all? If I say no what would you do?”

  “I already said I could come graciously or like a storm.”

  Idwyn shook her head. “So naive. You doubt my ability to escape you, to convince Artowen. I could have you restrained, in another kingdom I could even have you killed. What would you do then?”

  Emerii ground her teeth.

  “I stand in your way. We are atop a tower. You could easily send me falling, and your path would be clear.”

  Sweat trickled down Emerii’s forehead, but she could not manage to say anything.

  “I joke of course. I know you can not besmirch your honor, nor do I think you could kill someone as beautiful as me if I did not strike first. You are too clear, like that plain deity on your neck. So easy to read. That is why I find you wholly uninteresting.”

  “But I still will go.”

  Idwyn sighed. “You are ever composed. An admirable trait Emerii. You have passed the test, you may come with us. I had to be sure of your resolve. Please do not think me unkind. I hope that you will prove useful on our journey. I’m sure the Lord Captain’s boy will find some way to join us as well.”

  Relief now that she was accepted, but despite the words of the Truthsayer Emerii could not help but be put off. Was this truly some sort of test? She doubted that. Hopefully, Royce would find a way to join them, she could not deal with Idwyn alone.

  The cell was cold.

  The cell was lonely.

  The cell was oppressive.

  There were no others in the royal dungeon, which overall was a testament to the King’s leniency, though the prisons in the city could not speak of such sparse internment.

  If not for the guards outside the main door he would have already seared his way free from the cell, but with them there, he would break the cell, then do what? Push through the metal-reinforced wooden door and defeat them in combat? Then escape? That was easier said than done.

  Maybe I am weak-willed.

  His resolve had already begun to waver. The faint moonlight and darkness of the cell told that it had been a full day since his imprisonment. Thankfully since he had been wetted by a deity he had dried almost immediately after his father had doused him in water.

  There were footsteps and a conversation before the main entrance to the dungeon swung open.

  King Rowain walked in, shutting the door behind himself. He approached the cell Royce was sitting in with a shaking of his head. He carried a large sack and Royce’s sword.

  “Do you plan on sitting there until your friends leave?”

  Royce eyed him dubiously. “Why not just order my father to let me out?”

  “You know I’m not one lie or deceive. Take this and go with Arty. If I ordered the Lord Captain how to raise and punish his son it would do our relationship no good. He was Lord Captain when I was young, I know how obstinate he can be.”

  Royce slowly nodded his head.

  Rowain winked at him as he unlocked the cell. “I am just so happening to leave supplies here, while somehow Royce managed to steal a key.” He tossed him the jail key. “Royce was so stealthy he slipped past the guards somehow. Now no one knows where to find him.” Rowain turned to leave.

  “Thank you, your majesty.”

  The King stopped. “Good luck on your journey Royce. I look forward to the man you will become.” Before he fully left the man turned and said, “Oh, and please stop calling me that. My name is Rowain.”