Milo closed his eyes and sighed inwardly as he quietly steeled himself just in front of the door. Why did he have to do this as a 20 year old? 

The reason was actually fairly simple. His father. Milo had tried doing this the honorable way, going to his father to raise his concerns in a mature and professional manner, but unfortunately everything he'd brought up was quickly batted away from his father like these issues were just gnats that interrupted the peace of his days. No matter what he mentioned in terms of research or Arcan policy, Milo was always casually brushed aside with dismissing palliatives like "Things aren't that simple, son" or "We'll discuss this later, I'm very busy" or even the occasional bit of guilt tripping with a "if you know so much about foreign policy, would you like to try ruling?" Though, no matter how many promises of "later", the conversation never continued. 

So here Milo was, sucking up to his older brother. He was a renowned, talented sorcerer that'd finished training years ahead of average sorcerers, and here he was coming to complain to his elder brother like some entitled, small child. He took in another breath, and knocked on the door to his brother's chambers. "Orion? It's me, can we talk?" 

"Milo; of course, let yourself in." His brother's muffled yet cheerful voice floated through the heavy, carved oak doors.  Milo pushed the thick doors open to get inside and closed it behind him. Orion was sitting at his table behind a slew of papers, no doubt the countless complaints, audiences, and policy updates their father had started shucking onto him under the guise of practice for the future. His tawny hair was swept back away from his face like it always was, framing dark gray eyes that looked far too tired for a twenty-four year old. Nevertheless, his older brother smiled happily, though whether it was for the sake of seeing his brother or for the much needed break, Milo wasn't sure. "What did you want to talk about?" 

"I need your help." Milo said. Orion raised a brow. "It's been 300 years since the Great Exile, and a friend of mine mentioned the policy hurting our international trade and from what I could tell when I looked, he's right. Our trade with other countries is really bad, even if we have more than enough to offer, and the only thing I can see that causes it is the policy from the Great Exile, so wouldn't it be better to dissolve it for the sake of foreign relations and trade? I mean, not to mention that everyone affected is technically an Arcan citizen, which leads into moral dilemmas I really don't agree with-"

"Milo," Orion's stern voice and his exasperated expression said that he'd been saying Milo's name more than just the once he'd heard. "You're going on a tangent." He supplied.

"Right; well, point is, I think the best way to fix the issue is to dissolve the policy and bring the exiled back. Either all at once or slowly, I'm not sure, but I'd be happy to help figure out a solution if no one can think of anything. The problem is that father won't even hear me out on the issue. He keeps blowing me off and ignoring me, but he can't ignore both of us, especially since you're the crowned heir. So if you agree to help me…" Milo grinned at him cheerfully, implying that their father would cave. 

Orion however had set his expression into a tired deadpan. "No." 

"What? Seriously,  Orion? You don't want to help?" 

"I've got enough on my plate as it is, Milo." Orion said, stone faced and unmoving.

Milo inwardly cringed at what he was about to do. "Come on, Orion!" He said with his best innocent expression. "Pleeeeease?" 

"Why do you even care so much about this?" Orion asked, clearly doing his best to stay steadfast in his decision even against his favorite brother. Both brothers knew Milo was the heir's favorite sibling—Orion had showered Milo with attention from a young age which made it clear that their closeness was due to Orion's hard work. The reason why he was the favorite though, Milo had no idea."You know what happened, Milo. Probably more than most since you're in the royal family.  Three hundred years ago, the Arcan king at the time decreed that monsters were hostile towards humans and to be exiled to the Archipelago off of our coast for the safety of our population. And like they were supposed to do, father and his advisors voted on the decree 30 years ago. They decided to keep the policy in place."

"But that original decree isn't fair!" Milo snapped. As much as he wanted to stay objective about this, it irked him a bit more than he anticipated. "What exactly made those species automatically hostile?" The anger left him then in favor of hurt and sadness, and Milo's shoulders slumped. "Don't you think they deserve a fair chance like everyone else..?"

Orion frowned, realizing how important this was to his younger brother. Not many things caused Milo to lose his temper. "Of course I do, Milo;" He said gently, resigning himself to helping his brother in this. "But you know how father is. When he sets his mind to something, it's going to be a pain in the ass to change."

"I know, I know…" Milo sighed, gathering his thoughts. Then he lit up, as though he was suddenly filled with determination from something that had crossed his mind. "But! You're the eldest crown prince; the heir! He's more likely to listen to you and you're more likely to get him to agree!" 

"Why do you want this to happen so badly, Milo?" Orion asked again, still curious about the answer his younger brother had never quite given.

Milo thought for a minute, as if searching for an answer himself. "I don't know, honestly." He admitted. "I just…" he trailed off again and frowned as he scowled at some poor fireplace poker whose shine had caught his eye for the second he was finding the correct words. "I keep getting this feeling like it needs to happen for some reason."

Orion raised a brow, intrigued. "A feeling?" He asked. Milo nodded. Orion leaned back in his padded chair, deciding to use the question he'd come up with to help decide on the difference between a sorcerer's intuition and feelings when Milo was younger. "A teen feeling or a sorcerer feeling?" 

Milo frowned at the question. "A sorcerer." He answered. 

Orion kept his raised brow expression, but Milo could tell he was amused. "Are you sure?" 

Milo glared a little, unable to tell if his brother was just teasing or actually asking. Either way, he didn't like being questioned on how he felt. "Definitely." He answered. 

Orion thought for a quiet moment, then sighed. "Then, I'll do what I can, but I make no promises." 

"Really?" Milo grinned excitedly.

"You're a talented sorcerer, Milo, and you're a lot more powerful than even the people who taught you." Orion said with a shrug. "I trust your intuition."

Milo beamed at both the agreement to help and the compliment. "Thanks!"

Orion held a finger up. "But, one condition: if any of this goes wrong, you're taking the blame from father."

"Of course."