Ewald was exhausted. He could see the dawn lightening the sky, gently illuminating his office. His workbench was overflowing with his concoction equipment and the many vials and flasks from which he observed the results. On the opposite side, in front of the bay window, the only source of natural light in the room, was his office. Or at least, it was possible to guess its presence under the mass of papers that had invaded it. And this invasion wasn't going to stop. Grabbing a new pile of blank papers, Ewald continued to think, to investigate how this could have started.

He was now certain that the attack on Anastasiy wasn't the starting point of this story. The stones found in his cellar were proof of this and Giusto's letter was confirmation. Ewald had recovered all the letters sent by Giusto since the Emperor's poisoning. All of them, without exception, were impregnated with manipulation potions. After spending the night breaking down the liquid and the formula, he had finally cracked the order hidden behind it.

"Pay no attention." A simple command yet so vague. But that was what made it so dangerous. After all, no one had paid attention to the Emperor, the Prince or Giusto. In the same way, everyone had forgotten about the Kingdom of Fabel and focused on preventing a war with the Theocracy of Nulvon. But the worst thing about this situation was that he couldn't say anything because of the oaths around the kroseil. He couldn't talk about it in a trial, not without endangering all the magical Towers. However, the Towers could never pass under the control of authority, otherwise tyranny would rise immediately. There were too many secrets in the Towers. Secrets that, in the wrong hands, could plunge the continent into chaos. And if Ewald trusted his intuition, the Magic Towers of Fabel had never made this separation and that meant that, indirectly, the Draeleon Magicians had helped Fabel, their enemy since the Celestial War.

The thought made Ewald want to vomit. Knowing that he could have helped poison the Empire. He hated the idea that he had been tricked by people who had sworn to use their knowledge for the common good. He hated himself for it and cursed the deceitfulness of the Kingdom of Fabel and its people who had played them.

“Ewald!”

Kasey's panicked voice pulled him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. He watched his valet approach him in a few strides, before the latter took hold of his left hand. Lowering his eyes towards it, Ewald saw the blue ink mixing with his blood, slowly coloring Kasey's hands a morbid purple.

"Oh."

He reached for his hand to examine his wound more closely, but Kasey kept it firmly between his own. Knowing that his valet could be more stubborn than he was, especially when it came to his health, he didn't struggle any further.

"I'll remove your glove," Kasey declared, once he was sure Ewald wouldn't try to retrieve his hand before he could heal it.

"Is that really necessary?"

Immediately, he regretted the question as his valet glared at him with his green eyes.

"Is it really necessary to let you bleed like that? Is it really necessary to hurt you like this? Is it really necessary for you to martyr yourself like this?!" He questioned, his face disfigured both by anger and by his scars. "Why then do you seek to carry this burden? Why do you want to be guilty of the crimes of others?!"

"Because I am guilty! I am a Dralyon! You know that's the truth!" Ewald replied in despair.

"You fool! The only truth is that Fabel was and is guilty of these events! For a long time they have dreamed of their revenge, of their conquest of the continent! What happened sixteen years ago wasn't your fault!"

"But -!"

"Is Anastasiy guilty of the Empire's current situation?"

Ewald remained silent, admitting defeat to Kasey, who sighed. Silence reigned in the office as the valet removed the red glove. A new day was beginning and yet the past still seemed to pursue them.