I scrambled guiltily out of my seat to offer it to Relias, matching the attendant bow for bow. “Please sit down, you shouldn’t be up and—”

“I am fine now due to your valiant efforts yesterday,” he said with genuine gratitude.

As I straightened up from my last apologetic genuflection, Relias caught me in a rough embrace. I stood awkwardly still, momentarily unsure of what to do. “But Father Irijah said you need rest… And I took up so much of that already during my treatment earlier…”

Relias chuckled softly into my left ear. “Would it be overly arrogant of me to suggest that not all priests are created equal?”

“Only if you don’t mention specific names as examples,” Nora replied, barely concealing a smirk behind her teacup.

“Well then…” he began as he released me. “Someone who shall remain nameless is not known to be skilled in sensing animus.” He sighed then, folding his arms as he furrowed his brow. “To be fair, even I did not sense it in time; my judgment was clouded by my personal frustrations. However, my affliction has since abated, and its resolution coincided with your defeat of that treacherous demon last night.”

“Well… He did seem to know you weren’t feeling well…” I admitted, still unable to look him in the eye.

Relias nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I also believe what happened to you afterward was due to overexposure to demonic animus. It is not your fault. If anything, Father Irijah should have attempted to purge you of it, even if he could not sense it.”

Relias had reassured me of that countless times earlier when I was curled up in the protective circle after waking up, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak through my sobs. But I still couldn't fully believe it wasn’t my fault, not when I knew I had taken a risk earlier. Sure, I had taken precautions, but I was still uncertain about what I was doing. It would be tempting to blame someone else for the consequences, but that would also be dangerous.

Never again. The only way I’m going to confront him is directly and alone, so no one else can get hurt.

Relias waved a hand in front of me. “Dear One? We can both take a seat now. We’ve been brought another chair.”

I looked over and slid into the seat the attendant had set down nearby. “Sorry… Lost in my own thoughts…”

Nora's voice held a tinge of melancholy as she stated, “A lot has been happening lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if you start taking it somewhat personally.” She tried to pass me a flippant grin as she poured Relias a cup of tea, but it looked somewhat strained. I gave her a grateful glance for trying.

“You know about everything that happened last night?” I then asked Relias.

“I've consulted with the others,” Relias replied, taking a sip of tea before fixing me with a childlike grin. “Even Vernie was forthcoming once I recovered enough to question her initial account of an explosion in the kitchen.”

Nora handed me the chocolate macaron I had been eyeing, her gesture almost absentminded. “You didn’t give her too hard of a time, did you? You were acting quite strange. I would have lied to keep you out of the brawl’s aftermath, too.”

Relias puffed his cheeks petulantly. “After she put me in a headlock to evaluate my well-being? It seems I was the one destined for a… hard time.”

Oh, Vernie! I couldn’t help but picture it, letting out a chuckle despite my mouth being full of cookie. Embarrassed, I covered my lips and turned, trying not to choke or spit it out. Relias waited patiently while I worked on restoring my manners.

“I’m also aware of King Saulus’s account," he said gravely, setting down his teacup. “Though I am certain he would never intentionally deceive us, I believe he is... laboring under a misconception.”

“What misconception is that?” Nora asked brusquely.

“Nothing can escape Naught,” Relias declared adamantly. “To entertain any other possibility, even for a moment, would invite widespread disaster.”

I wasn’t convinced. “But—”

Relias folded his hands and dropped them loudly onto the table. “If it were true, would not others have also escaped?”

“Maybe… they have?” I pondered aloud. “They can change their form… What’s stopping them from adopting a new persona?”

“I refuse to believe it,” Relias said flatly. “There's a simpler, more plausible explanation. His Majesty didn't fully exorcise him that day; he merely banished him. Likely, he didn't completely sever its core. I'm sure he did his best, but the execution was not flawless.”

Nora and I exchanged a long glance before she set her cup down. “You’re saying there’s no chance a demon could escape Naught.”

Relias stared directly into Nora’s eyes. “Yes. None at all.”

“Then say his name,” Nora returned the challenge. “The original king’s name.”

I was in the middle of eating another macaron, so I couldn’t immediately object.

Relias opened his mouth as if to accept her dangerous dare but closed it with an irritated snap. “I… may not…”

“Then we at least have to consider it a risk until we can prove otherwise,” Nora advised, folding her arms. “I think the bigger disaster would be to ignore the possibility altogether.”

“We… cannot tell anyone of this outside the Order,” Relias finally relented. “I mean no jest when I warn of widespread disaster. The world is already teetering on the brink of panic as it is!”

So we should just keep it to ourselves? “But… anyone could say his name! What would happen to them if—”

“Most likely nothing," Relias interjected. "He has no interest in the weak. If—and this is a significant if—he has returned, he surely has more important targets than merely eliminating a few... NPCs.”

Surely, he didn’t understand the negative connotation of that acronym!

Nora grimaced, glancing at me. “He’ll go after the one he believes most responsible for his demise.”

No.

Not me.

Olethros.

He would target Olethros first and make an example out of him.

A drop of blood landed soundlessly on the table in front of me. Startled, I touched my lip, noting it was throbbing, slightly swollen from my tooth biting anxiously into it. I withdrew my finger and wiped the excess blood on a nearby napkin. “That’s enough talking.” I stood up resolutely. “We have to prepare to leave. I want to make sure everyone’s ready to go as soon as possible tomorrow morning.”

Cybill, the matronly dressmaker, intercepted me in the hallway before I could find any other party members, giving Nora and Relias a chance to catch up to me.

“Your battle uniforms are ready,” Cybill noted. “I’ll have someone deliver them to your rooms shortly.”

“Battle uniforms?”

She raised both eyebrows. “I wouldn't suggest just wearing your dress uniform to Chairo,” she cautioned. “You should wear a tabard over your armor to show who you represent.”

“Monastic scapular,” Nora muttered under her breath.

That may have been more accurate than ‘tabard,’ but nobody really says that.

“Yes… that makes sense…” I agreed. Earlier, I would have tried to hide from the responsibility, but I immediately saw the need to clearly identify myself, even at a distance. “But don’t I need just one?”

She tilted her head with a smirk. “Are you going solo, Captain? I thought you were taking the whole Order with you.”

Nora shoved her way between us. “Do they match?!”

“The captain’s is the most detailed… but other than a few fancy buttons and tailored edges, you’ll be certain to see the similarities,” Cybill assured her. “Vernie might be disappointed at the fit, but she should start dressing her age.”

“I can wear anything I like, anytime I want!” Vernie’s voice echoed from a nearby room. “If people don’t like it, they don’t hafta look!”

Cybil sighed disgustedly but allowed herself a slight smile afterward. “Don’t get into any more trouble than you can handle,” she called back to Vernie. “My veins can’t take much more stress these days.” She then bowed to us. “That goes for you as well. I expect to hear of your victories soon enough.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” Relias replied. “Your support has always been unwavering.”

“You’re most welcome, Your Holiness.” Cybil nodded, then continued down the hall in the opposite direction.

Vernie came out to join us. “Well? Feeling better now?”

“Yes,” I said, simply to avoid a lengthy dissertation on my current emotional state.

She leaned in uncomfortably close. “Hmm… You’ve been biting your lip. You’re worried about something… or someone.”

“We can talk about it later,” I murmured, never intending to follow through. “Let’s round up the rest of the boys first.”

I found Aleph and Tetora atop the battlements, standing together and watching the beautiful landscape below.

“Shouldn’t there be guards up here with you?” I asked by way of a rude greeting.

“We dismissed them,” Tetora said with a shrug. “We’re more comfortable up here alone, and they’re more comfortable on break.”

Aleph wordlessly came over and hugged me tight, once again making me feel like a tiny child compared to his towering height.

“Thank you,” I said as I hugged back.

“You have had quite an eventful time lately,” he noted.

“You too,” I replied with a sad smile. “Seems I’m kicking up trouble for everyone.”

Tetora snorted. “Don’t take all the credit. Leave some for us!”

“Yes, of course. Speaking of trouble… How did it go with Tim and Allen?”

“About that…” Aleph rubbed his head guiltily.

“Oh…” I sighed as I put it together. “I’m sorry. I was hoping you’d have some pointers for them, but I know it’s not easy—”

“I agreed to it without asking you,” Tetora declared. “So you are free to punish me as you see fit. But I’m not taking back my word.”

“Eh?”

“Tetora told them it was okay to work on a new show reprising our latest demon encounter,” Aleph explained, looking sternly at Tetora. “Without your consent.”

Tetora’s tail lashed about excitedly. “They’re going to get their hybrid friends to play us! We did play an important role, keeping a zero-casualty count.”

“Really?” I asked, a little dumbfounded. “About the hybrid actors, I mean.”

“Heh, heh. It’s just too bad they won’t be as handsome as the real deal,” Tetora grinned playfully, obviously trying to avoid any punishment whatsoever.

“What’s our cut?” Nora asked.

Tetora's eyes widened. “Cut?”

“Of the profits?” Nora continued. “What are our royalties?”

“Graaaaah!” he roared. “I knew I forgot something!”

Although most of us laughed somewhat sympathetically, Relias scowled. “I will pray they do not take too much creative license with the source material.”

Vernie smacked him on the back. “What are you so worried about? You probably won’t even be in it!”

Vernie!

“I am not concerned about my own reputation,” he replied stiffly, straightening up after the friendly but firm blow. “However, they must ensure that the Chosen One is portrayed solely in a heroic light. I have little faith in their low-brow form of entertainment...” He turned to me. “You and I should speak with them before anything gets out of hand.”

I shrugged, a slanderous play being the least of my worries. “If you’re going to insist…”

Prince Mito’s vast and spacious chambers echoed with the rousing cheers of the entire acting troupe gathered around a large wooden table.

“Chosen One!” Bridget crowed, standing up upon our entry. “Care for an ale?”

“No thanks,” I declined, waving my hands. “But how many has he had?” I pointed to His Highness, who seemed to be slowly pouring himself out of his seat and onto the floor.

“Don’t worry, we cut him off,” Alaric advised, avoiding an actual numerical answer.

“Oh, it’sh you…” Prince Mito said sluggishly, trying to sit up straight enough to look at me. “Shomeone said you were sick lasht night.”

I felt both guilty and relieved that Prince Mito was unaware of my earlier transgressions. “I’m better now, but I’m wondering how you’re going to feel in the morning…”

Prince Mito shrugged. “Sss’ fine. I’ll shober up ’fore we leave.” Then, as if being purposely contrary to his words, he slid under the table until he disappeared completely. “I’ll jus’ stay here for a bit firhst.”

Relias sniffed rather disdainfully but said nothing.

The director looked around nervously before clearing his throat. “We realized… You were never compensated for your performance earlier, Captain. However, we find ourselves lacking sufficient funds at the moment…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied with a shrug. “If you make sure he gets to bed in one piece and at a reasonable hour, I’ll consider it even.”

“Actually,” Bridget piped up. “We got you a little something. Lady Nora said you wanted to write things down, so…” She pulled out a large, leatherbound journal that smelled faintly of wood smoke. “We managed to salvage it from the playhouse… We usually use them to write out our scenes. Maybe you can use it to keep your notes on your journey.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said as she handed it to me. “Thank you for the… oh!” Inside, the troupe had filled the first few pages with quotes of encouragement. My party members had also added their own inspirational words.

“You and I should go speak with them now, huh?” I mocked Relias, taking on an outrageously serious tone. “Yet I have a feeling you knew about this surprise gift…”

Relias blushed slightly. “I'm merely fulfilling my role...” He then turned the journal to its last page, where his own tight, flowery script glowed somewhat, covering the entire page. “Please, keep what I've written confidential. It's intended for your eyes only.”

“Ah, I’ll read it later, in private!” I replied quickly, feeling my cheeks heat up as I snapped the journal shut.