It was a stretch, but he hoped that Arx would at least consider it. "Ezterra would never cooperate with Carpathia, but I can track her down."

"I want that stone."

"I can get it for you."

The older man cocked a brow, tilting his head as he held on tight to the cane in hand. "Forgive my skepticism," Arx mocked.

Silas took in a breath. "You're losing your war against Litis, right? That stone seems important to you." A twitch of Arx's eye told Silas he'd hit the nail on the head. "Ah. So, my partner in crime is using the same tricks as your opponent, and you have no clue how it's done. Think about all the time you'll be wasting chasing after a girl you don't know the name of or what she looks like. How many more Carpathians will die while you run around Ezterra looking for a needle in a haystack? I can cut that time in half."

"An Ezterrian aiding the Carpathian military." Now that he said it aloud, not even Silas could believe it. But, he felt no one way about politics. His life and a bit of revenge were the only things on his mind. And a bit of coin, of course.

"I'm just a thief, I'm on the side of the highest bidder." He paused, his heart hammering as he witnessed Arx's changing expression. "Coin in exchange for the girl. We both get what we want." 

Everyone was quiet as Arx closed his eyes and thought. Silas knew there was very little else he could offer. As long as he feigned ignorance, they would need him to fill in the details. Time was not a luxury they had, so with all the luck in the world, Arx would consider him invaluable to the war. That was if these stones meant as much to Arx as Silas thought. 

Carpathian magic was a wonder indeed. Only the Carpathians were born with that innate ability, some more attune than others, Not that it mattered when they were the only race on the planet with God-like powers. Now that Litis could also use magic, Carpathia was losing the war. If they could figure out how Litis made the stones and how they worked, Carpathia could win. 

Arx opened his eyes again. "You are certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can get the girl and the stone for me?"

"I can steal anything." Including information. A fact of reputation he was known for within the Outer Ring. He prayed the Vazeer would take him at his word. 

"Very well," Arx gestured for the soldiers in divisions two and six. "Escort our esteemed guest to his quarters. Make sure the door is equipped with a lock he can't pick." 

They pulled Silas to his feet, standing at either side of him as they left through the door. Unshackled, the lax nature of this made him feel uneasy. Half of him screamed to run, hide, and escape over the border. The other half reminded him that thought was suicide. 

The palace, much like the General's mansion, was adorned with polished marble. The stained glass reflected bright colors against the strip of carpet on the ground, with greens and golds. Magics light for Healer's magic. Further down, the colors began to change. Reds and whites, the light for fire, and blues and purples, the light for ice. Each spectrum represented different kinds of magic. His stomach dropped when the glass changed to bright purple with a mix of black. An Ikhorna. 

Some magic was rarer than others. An Ikhorna, a manipulator of blood, was one of them. His knowledge of Carpathian magic was actually quite extensive. Raised by a group with a hand in illusions, he was taught much about Carpathian history, including their magic. He remembered the first time he learned about people capable of manipulating blood. Control over others like a marionette, what was more frightening than that?

Pyra's stone glowed the same colors, Silas realized. The memory of Marx Duke's death flashed back. Remembering as the blood poured from every opening in his face. Chest convulsing, as if he were being squeezed dry. 

How many Litisan soldiers could they train to manipulate blood? Would the war even end with Carpathia? Silas considered them invading Ezterra. Politics didn't matter much to him, but that was his home, the only place he could return to.

"This is it," The soldier in Division Six spoke, bringing Silas out of thought.

It wasn't a very large room, but compared to the hole Silas occupied back home, it was cavernous. A canopy bed was pressed against the far wall, with a small dining table in the middle of the room. A small reading nook with a bright red chair was across from the bed. The panes of glass were just wide enough to provide light for the room. Definitely not enough to escape through.

"Master Arx said you will remain here until he speaks with the King," Said a very young man. His facial hair was sparse, and considering his slim frame, Silas guessed he hadn't been in the Carpathian military long, though his insignia read Six. "My name is Fynn Grimes. If you need anything, just knock on the door."

Once he was alone with just his thoughts, Silas could feel it. Magic pulsed from the wood of the door, the pull in his chest telling him so.