Chapter 11

The Fall Banquet Pt.2

Nyxis’s POV

Nyxis followed Rozaliya’s gaze toward the colorful, approaching stranger. As her eyes fixed onto the man, she couldn’t halt the slight shiver down her spine. There was something off in his eyes, something that triggered a primal part of her brain with a scream to her deep subconscious.

‘Wrong…’

Something about him felt very wrong. Even his sickeningly green aura came with a sense of caution and danger.

When the elf peered back to her friend, she was stunned into silence.

She knew the many expressions of Lady Valentine well, and while they hadn’t been friends as long as she and Bast had, the commander understood the woman enough to know when she was upset.

Never before had she witnessed the type of abject disgust that marred the water nymph’s face, expressed only to the strange man.

“Well well well,” the man chuckled slyly, “If it isn't Aeon's finest Paragons.”

A collective grimace marred the faces across the group as the smallest answered without hesitation.

“Since when did we give assholes invites?” Aeifael groaned.

“About the same time you started wearing such cute widdle dwesses, Bun-Bun,” the man teased, “You wouldn’t be hiding because…” he trailed off with a feigned gasp, “You’re shy??” 

“Not tonight, Fixx,” Travis warned, his softer personality replaced with a harsh glare.

‘Is that his name?’

The commander felt the space around them abruptly begin to warm as she glanced back at the group as a whole.

Princess Cielo remained poised, but stood close to the zephyr nymph, uneased by the stranger. Vincent, while typically nonchalant and abrasive, was disturbingly alert and quiet. Aeifael was clearly uncomfortable, standing behind her eldest brother’s cape while Travis stood next to the young woman, glaring at the man.

Terran gave a scowl that could rival the sun, and to the elf's shock and amazement, all of their expressions paled in comparison to the Prince of All Hallows.

The man’s glare was seething, his aura wisping away from his frame like steadily building embers, domineering over the nymphs and fae in his corner.

‘That’s unusual…’

“It’s so rare that I get to see you all together in one room. Why wouldn’t I come around and chat it up like old times?” Fixx proposed boldly, tugging on his lapels. When he turned towards the men, his smirk sharpened on the prince, tipping his head towards him. “Careful, primo, your face could get stuck like that.”

Nyxis observed Geddeon’s right eye twitch, evidently annoyed by the unsettling man’s presence. It was then that she realized that the source of the warmth was due to his aura.

But it wasn’t just his aura; she also noticed a lime green haze extending from the alrune’s frame like growing vines, while the air around the zephyr nymph began to crackle and pop.

As her eyes shifted between the group and the bizarre man, the commander could only assume they were hardly on good terms.

“You deadass think you’re checking in or some shit? You know you’re not welcome here.” Vincent informed the man.

And that statement confirmed it.

“Ah, chivalry will get you nowhere, kingslayer,” Fixx retorted with a shrug, turning his gaze back to the prince, “I'm an official plus one and under the protection of the King of All Hallows himself.”

“Good for you…” Geddeon sneered, his right eye twitching again, “Shame you weren’t worthy of an actual invitation.”

“Careful primo, daddy’s within earshot; you wouldn’t want to disappoint him, again.” He commented, slowly enunciating his words.

“Who let you out of the Void?” Rozaliya spoke up, her arms crossed under her chest.

Fixx turned his gaze towards the women with a sick grin displayed. The elf immediately felt her stomach churn at the sight.

“Oh. Our honorable Lady Valentine, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” He responded back, completely ignoring the water nymph’s question and taking a step towards her. “Tell me. How is Yvette?”

Rozaliya’s glare darkened when he mentioned the name, and Nyxis recalled it briefly before gazing over to the woman.

The elf’s thoughts immediately retreated back to their youth, to the day her friend was inconsolable.

The water nymph was a younger dancer of La Compagnie Triplée de la Lune - a dance company created by the girl’s great-grandmother, and personally trained by the Étoiles at the time, Yvette. Rozaliya always spoke so highly of the woman and reveled in their close, almost familial relationship.

Then, on an unsuspecting afternoon, the country of Bordeaux learned of tragic news from overseas.

From how the nymph explained it, after leaving a post-show dinner in All Hallows, Yvette was unexpectedly attacked on her way to her hotel, suffering a catastrophic injury. She was without an escort, and after the attack, was left to die in an alleyway.

The Étoiles’s injuries were so severe that she would never be able to dance again, much less walk, effectively retiring her career and sending the woman into a self-isolated depression.

The authorities couldn’t track down the suspect, leading to heavy backlash from the Hallowites and the Bordians, but for different reasons, and Rozaliya was so distraught upon learning of everything regarding her teacher, declaring that she would personally drown the bastard that did it.

‘How did he know Yvette?’

“If you are attempting to provoke me, it will render your “protective status” null and void, so you should be very careful with your next words,” the water nymph warned, her tone cold and harsh.

Out of the corner of her eye, the commander watched as the prince began to move forward, only to be halted by the zephyr nymph, who stepped up.

“We knew you weren’t shit, but antagonizing women is low, even for you,” Vincent admonished the man, the air crackling harder, “You got that same energy for us?”

“Well actually, it’s very much a part of my character, since you’re all basically the same to me,” Fixx scoffed, tapping his cane on the ground once, “You lot are nothing but privileged nepo babies playing ego wars in pretty clothes. None of you have actually struggled to get where you are, and it shows. Well, except for maybe you, Rhyddid. You look like you’ve been struggling all your life.”

“Excuse me?” The zephyr nymph hissed as the prince’s hand clamped over his forearm, halting him from moving towards the man, “Would you like to run that back?”

“I mean I could, but those long ass ears of yours should’ve heard me the first time.”

“What do you hope to gain by doing this, Fixx?” The prince questioned aloud, his voice low with a touch of annoyance.

“The old banter, the easy reactions; it’s just fun to frustrate you lot.” The man chuckled, clapping his hands, “Old wounds are so much fun to reopen, since you all act the same. Nothing has changed, even after all these years.”

Nyxis could feel the hostility of the group intensify, but then she felt eyes scanning her face and body, suddenly overcome with a sense of danger.

And it sure as hell wasn’t coming from the group.

’Oh no…’

“Oh, forgive me Lady Valentine, I didn’t realize that you brought a friend with you,” Fixx stated, approaching the elf slowly. “Hello there miss. You’ll have to forgive me; I’ve known this lot since our wee days, and we have quite the contentious history.”

‘Inner peace… be calm…’

“Seems like a complicated past, sorry to hear.” Nyxis finally spoke, her voice uninterested, yet clear. She watched the man’s brow raise, possibly with interest.

“Quite. Now, I don’t believe I have made your acquaintance before, so perhaps you would indulge me. You wouldn’t happen to be a denizen of Mt. Wynter, would you?”

He halted his movement when he saw the water nymph stand closer to her side.

“You don’t have to answer any of his questions.” Rozaliya quipped, her scowl poised on the strange man.

“Whoa there, I’m not going to bite. I’m just asking an innocent question.” Fixx reiterated as he stared straight past the water nymph and directly at the commander.

“You’re getting a little too close for my liking and your breath reeks.” The water nymph hinted, her invisible aura exuding a cooling mist.

Before an international incident could occur, the commander tapped on her friend’s shoulder once, commanding a halt in her actions. She immediately felt the woman’s aura shrink into nothing as she stepped to the side, returning her attention back to the man.

“That depends on who’s asking.” Nyxis stated, eyeing her verbal opponent. She subtlely felt the need to be on the defensive, especially when the stranger chuckled at the elf’s response. When her friend stepped aside, she could clearly smell a musky alcohol emitting from the man’s breath.

“I see,” Fixx pondered, examining the woman from head to toe like a subject under a scope, “Hmm, you look far too formal to be a civilian, yet you walk with the experience of a general. You don’t have an immediate reaction to my presence, and last I checked, Bordeaux and the Valley lack Paragons with actual strength, so you couldn’t be a nymph. And you’re standing too far away to be familiar with the fae, so you must be from the mountain.”

The elf noted the subtle jab at Rozaliya and the other nymphs in attendance. She wanted to speak, but she waited, allowing him to continue.

“Also quite the striking glare, indeed. I haven’t seen eyes that blue since… oh!” 

The man seemed to remember something, then began to chuckle harder, writhing with laughter.

An unsettling sight.

“What’s so funny?” Travis scoffed.

“Not that your simple ass would understand, but I know a Claus when I see one,” the man responded, wiping tears from his eyes, “I saw those same eyes roll when they bagged Mr. Claus’s sorry ass up. Shame what happened to yer pops, by the way.”

Nyxis stared at the man, not in disgust nor with sadness, but with rage hidden behind a composed face. 

His words and actions screamed of a gassed ego, but honestly, she saw it for what it was. A lonely man hiding behind a pathetic superiority complex.

In her eyes, he was no better than Rowena, but at least the Witch posed an actual threat.

This man was just a flagrant pussy.

“Fixx.” The prince warned, taking a few steps forward with the fae and nymphs following suit, all glaring at the stranger.

“Not now, primo. I’m speaking with someone more interesting than you,” the antagonizing man waved off, his eyes glued to the commander.

“I’m glad to see that this little “examination” of yours is amusing to you,” Nyxis informed, her voice halted Geddeon in his tracks, and pulled the attention of the group.

The man’s brow raised for the second time that evening, followed by feigned surprise, “Is that so? Well then, maybe you would indulge me with your own “examination”? You seem keen enough, with eyes like those, unless I was wrong about you.”

This little game of his was purely for mental placement, probably to see if she would play along, but more likely to see if she was even worth his time.

She didn’t want to play his games, and something about him screamed that they shouldn’t be friends, much less acquaintances.

But he knew something about her father, and probably more than that.

Staring eye to eye now, the group seemingly disappeared into a haze around her, with her opponent lined in her sights.

‘Inner peace. Be calm.’

“Well actually,” the commander countered smoothly as she scanned the man’s wardrobe and demeanor with a calculated glance, “From my “inspection”, you exude royalty, sure, but of the pompous kind lifts their nose and jumps to antagonize like you’re trying to win something; and it’s giving ick. You clearly don’t have any friends that like you or else they’d tell you to cut off the sideburns, probably because you think it gives you character since your personality apparently isn’t getting you far. The clothes read as expensive, but the alcohol on your breath, much like your character, reeks of cheap superiority. Did that indulge you enough?”

The group stood stunned at the woman’s words, silently waiting for the man’s response.

“Well gods be damned! You actually have a far better sense of humor than I had expected,” Fixx smiled wildly, offering a hearty laugh with slow claps that quietly unnerved the elf, “Finally, someone that can actually take a joke! Pray tell, Mrs. Claus-”

“Commander Frost, if you would. You seem to be mistaking me for my boss.” Nyxis corrected the man, lifting her head ever so slightly.

“Oh, my apologies, Commander. Say, what’s it like to be the bastard of royalty? Was it as exciting as they told you it would be?”

“I’d rather be a bastard than have those sideburns.” The elf quipped, tilting her head, loose curls moving in kind. “You would’ve been laughed out of boot camp.”

“Oh, she has a bark! I knew you would be more interesting than these babies. I can see the difference.” The man cajoled, moving closer to the women.

“The difference?” Nyxis asked, her brow raised with an unamused glare. She withheld her aura as much as possible, trying to control the blood pumping in her veins.

“You carry yourself as someone who fought for their place and succeeded, unlike this unbelievable drabble. You’ve seen the bottom of the barrel, and you refuse to go back. You’re just like me for real.”

She felt the space become even warmer, but when she inspected the strange man closer, she could see a fecund green haze oozing from his frame, almost in thick globs.

It felt as though it shouldn't exist within the world. Something that oozed with the contamination of an open sewage well.

“That’s quite the assumption, but I see no such similarity. How do you know that when you hardly know me?” The elf pressed.

“I could ask the same of you, but perhaps, we could get to know each other-” Fixx answered, reaching out to the elf’s hand.

Almost instantly, the Prince of All Hallows approached the man and grabbed his wrist, yanking it back to interrupt the man's conversation. His eyes glowed a bright orange and the aura fuming off of him was suffocatingly warm.

“Enough, Fitzgerald.” Geddeon demanded, his grip tightening.

Fixx finally turned his gaze away from the elf and back to the prince, “Now now primo, I didn’t know you had a crush, though I’m sure uncle wouldn’t li-”

“I’m sure my father would understand if I disciplined a disrespectful guest.” The prince growled, his grip tightening.

“Ah, Fitzgerald! There you are!” A man suddenly appeared within the group, looping his arm over the shoulder of the antagonizer and placing a firm hand on his upper arm, “Come with me! We have something to discuss!”

He was dressed similar to the prince, however, his face was shielded with elaborate makeup.

‘Lord Xibalba.’

The commander observed the prince shift his gaze between the men before releasing Fixx’s wrist, and taking a step back.

“Hola, Tío, if you would give me a-” the man began to speak but the arm on his shoulder gripped harder.

“It will only be a moment,” the Remisian King assured through a smile of gritted teeth, pulling him away from the group. As the duo walked past the women, the older man stopped and bowed towards the elf, his expression remorseful and his voice soft, “Commander Frost, it is a great pleasure to see you again.”

Nyxis nodded softly and bowed in kind, staring as the men walked towards a side room away from view. She was shocked that a king would address her with respect, much less acknowledge her presence, but then she remembered her reason for attending.

She still had a task to complete.

The tension of the group seemed to immediately cool as the aura from the men weakened back to dormant states. Travis exhaled a breath that the commander believed, everyone else shared.

“This is going to be a long night…” the redhead conceded with a frown.

“Maybe mom will let us leave early?” Aeifael piped up from behind the alrune.

“High doubt…” Terran mused aloud before eyeing the women across from them, “You both good?”

“I’m fine,” Rozaliya responded with a huff, turning her gaze towards the commander, “Nyx?”

“Who the hell was that and what’s wrong with his hair?” the woman uttered, staring at the now closed door.

The water nymph shook her head, “That was Fitzgerald. He’s, unfortunately, Geddeon’s cousin, but we collectively unclaimed him.”

‘His cousin?’

’Was he a Ruins Royal?’

“Unclaimed?” Nyxis’s face contorted. As Rozaliya began to explain, she was halted by someone clearing their throat.

Surprisingly, the prince moved forward to stand in front of the women.

“He’s…troubled, to put it lightly, and only inclined to make friends that he could use, rather than to keep around,” Geddeon confessed, a deep sigh escaping his lips, “We’ve tried everything we could to keep him out of trouble, but that seems to be his preferred past-time.”

‘They’re family?’

“Less troubled and more so conflicted…” Cielo reiterated under a light sigh.

“Gedd is being mad nice because he has to; Fixx is an asshole, and he makes it his mission to make everyone around him miserable. Just steer clear of him,” the rabbit piped up, moving away from under her eldest brother's cape. Terran frowned with the young woman’s words.

“Aeifael.” The alrune warned, his tone stern.

“You got some nerve, you three almost swung!” The rabbit argued back.

Nyxis examined the prince carefully; he didn’t exude the same energy as the removed man. He seemed genuine in his words, but even she noticed the conflicted look in his green eyes.

He was hurt; she knew that gaze well.

“He's not “troubled”; he is trouble,” the indigo-clothed man announced, turning away from the table to finally face the group, “He had a chance for redemption, but squandered it by burning every bridge with the torch he brought. He’s a fallen Scion of the Autumnal Ruins.”

It was then that the elf realized that the Record Keeper was also in the room, and standing nearby, at that.

“Now that's putting it lightly, Ria,” the zephyr nymph frowned, shaking his head.

“Nyx, please hear me for true,” Rozaliya began, grabbing onto the commander's hands and staring earnestly at the younger woman, “I know you want to learn more about everyone and everything, but if you're looking for answers, you sure as hell won't get any from him. Please promise me that you won't get involved with or go anywhere near him.”

The woman remained still for a moment, trying to calm the blood pumping in her ears. There was more meaning to the water nymph’s words; a secret message surrounded by prying ears.

Also, she couldn’t forget the bizarreness of the man’s aura, if she could call it that.

Everyone's reaction to the man held the same vindication; Fixx wasn't to be trusted. If even his own cousin was hostile towards him, then maybe perhaps she should take her friend's advice to heart.

“I promise.” Nyxis confirmed to the water nymph with a soft nod.

Relieved, the woman released the elf's hands and shifted her gaze to the grandfather clock to check the time. “We still have time before dinner. Why don't we move to the courtyard for some air?” She suggested aloud to the group.

“Can we please? It reeks of cheap rum in here.” Cielo muttered through her color shifting dress sleeve, her nose and mouth covered. It was the most the princess said in the commander’s presence, and it spoke volumes.

The elf watched as the younger girl walked forward and tugged onto the prince’s black sleeve, “C’mon Gedd,” she called lightly, “Don’t worry about him.”

The small voice seemed to snap the man out of his stupor, glancing down at the young woman, “Alright.”

Rozaliya looped her arm over the commander’s, pulling her back towards the stairs, with the group in tow.

The group of Paragons walked through one of the floral decorated archways near the entrance, moving onto a low landing that was lit by the same pumpkin lights dangling from the indoor staircase.

The lights offered a brighter light to the path than the stairs, glittering under the darkened night sky. 

The path continued on towards a spacious botanical garden littered with flora the elf had never seen before; wildly tall shrubbery dancing in the soft breeze and a courtyard of different flowers separated by color.

A pale stone fountain sat at its center, towering over the blooms with a calming trickle.

Nyxis carefully surveyed the courtyard, from the intentionally placed myriad of vibrant flowers and plants, to the draped fabric of gold and crimson drapes on the columns. It was a grand sight to behold and a soothing repose from the repugnant energy inside.

‘Was this garden always here?’

She gazed up towards the starry night sky, her eyes landing on the two moons that towered overhead; the fullness of tinted cerulean and the boldness of glazed scarlet sitting across from the other.

Bast called it a “Moon Duel”, when Aeon's moons - Celestia and Augur - were in grand form at the same time.

A battle between “good” and “evil”; the hospitality of the blessing moon against the hostility of the omen moon.

This evening was either going to be a blessing or a disaster.

“Much better,” Vincent grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

The commander watched as Aeifael quickly shuffled ahead of the women towards the pink blooms, crouching down to admire them closer. 

When Travis walked over and lent down next to her, he bumped her with his elbow softly, pulling her attention.

“You're not going to crash out, are you?” He asked the young woman.

“No; I promised mom that I would behave and Terran would just yell at me anyway,” Aeifael assured the man, poking at one of the velvet petals.

“You damn right,” the alrune confirmed from the side.

“Oh yay, hide the fun, Terran the Disciplinarian is back…” the young rabbit muttered sarcastically from her crouched position.

“You’re talking a lot of shit within throwing distance,” the eldest brother reminded the girl, turning his attention towards his peers.

“If you can manage to catch me, just don’t get cut.” Aeifael warned, glaring back at the man.

Nyxis’s gaze shifted from the moons to scanning the group, astounded by the vast range of personalities.

The Valley Paragons were compassionately close, as any real family would be, and even after their exchange with this “Fitzgerald” character, they still had enough energy to argue with each other.

The Cape Paragons were composed, but radically blunt; and while the zephyr nymph was brash with his words, she had never seen such a quiet anger exude from the man. He was quick to speak up to defend Rozaliya, but only when the taunting was getting out of hand.

Even the so-called "Demons of the Ruins” were extremely hospitable and genuinely kind. The prince didn’t glare at her like he did at the beginning of the month, and if she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn he only stepped forward when the man was speaking to her. 

She was learning much about her peers, but was pulled from her thoughts when the water nymph released the elf’s arm, “You can ignore them; they always argue, it’s kinda their thing.”

“Weird flex, but alright,” Nyxis mused, towards the group.

“I think it’s a family trait,” Cielo suspected.

“Are we not going to talk about how she ate his ass up?” The zephyr nymph queried, tipping his head back towards the grand ballroom.

“What do you mean?” The elf questioned, brows furrowing with befuddlement.

’Was that a euphemism for something?’

“I was going to say,” Terran noted, nodding to the elf with a level of respect, “You didn’t know Fixx, yet you held your own and nothing you said was a lie. I’m impressed.”

“Um…Thank you?” The commander responded.

“See? You fit in just fine!” Rozaliya smirked as she smiled brightly at her friend, “She’s sharp of wit and so analytical! She could spot his generic off-brand bullshit from a mile away!”

“Yeah, about that…” The Record Keeper contended as he approached with a full champagne glass containing a weird orange liquid, floating at his side, “Now that we’re clear of the Elders, I have a few questions for you, Commander.”

At the mention of her title, Nyxis turned her attention to the redhead, greeting the man with a curt nod. “It’s nice to see you again, Record Keeper. Name them.”

“I was going to press both you and Fixx together in a two-for-one special, but I see that he hasn’t changed. So, I’ll ask you instead; where have you been these last ten years and why are you here now?” he queried, his amethyst gaze expectantly stuck on the woman.

“Seriously, Ria? Is now really the time-” Rozaliya started to argue, but with a brisk shake of the fae’s head, was hastily cut off.

“We need to address the Yggdrasil in the room; I’m only asking what everyone else is wondering,” the man said in an unphased tone, “You may know what she’s about, but I want to hear what she has to say.”

The water nymph quietly backed down, while the prince, the alrune, and the princess all shared concerned gazes with each other. Vincent, however, crossed his arms under his chest, his sights on the commander.

“Maybe, while you’re at it, you could tell me why you suddenly showed up in Tyr’s training room, when it wasn’t your day,” The zephyr nymph mentioned aloud.

Nyxis remained still, the groups’ eyes facing her for the third time that evening; even Rozaliya eyed her friend carefully.

“Before you answer,” the fae stated, “I’m inquiring because even after being granted a Paragon Title and access to all of the Realm Gates, you only ever travel through the Court four times a year; three of which are pertaining to training with Tyr, and once for your annual “Snow Drop Duty”. You traveled to the Court five times this year, but not only did the gate ping you in the Court on the 10th of Novembris, you took longer than usual to return to the Court on the 1st.”

The commander’s brows raised in surprise; she was not aware that the Realm Gates were capable of collecting that type of precise information.

Nyxis had met the Record Keeper once before, and understood only that he and herself were eleven months apart in age, but the man was a brilliant mental force to be reckoned with. The fae was very astute and calculated, using his nonchalant bluntness and background knowledge of Aeon’s records and Paragons to put any esprit on the spot.

She knew she couldn’t lie; not only would Rozaliya sense it and question her further, but what if one of the nearby Paragons could tell if she was lying? Knowing only Ice Magicks left the elf at a disadvantage with her peers, and she wasn’t sure if any of them were attuned to the infamous Illusion Magicks.

The fae man was devilishly cunning; proposing his questions in the presence of the next generation, so every Paragon in the courtyard could bear witness to her words and make their own opinions and assumptions about her.

He was definitely more of a challenge than Fixx. 

‘Did he know about the book? He didn’t mention if the Witch passed through the Court, but would he know if she did?’

‘Is he testing my alignment, or is it my honesty?’

‘Does he believe that the Witch and I are working together?’

‘Do they all think I’m like her?’

“We all want to understand your character,” the Record Keeper’s eyes narrowed slightly, “So, let’s talk about it.”

These were the exact questions that Rozaliya had anticipated, having asked her a similar question earlier in the evening.

‘Why would you attend a banquet, hosted by the family of your father's murderer?’

She had mused it over restlessly and meticulously picked her answers for this very reason; nothing had changed.

She was stunned, but she was also prepared.

‘If the book is mentioned, I cannot lie for her. Fuck that and fuck her!’

“I was completely genuine when I said that I wanted a change in company,” Nyxis began, her voice resolute, “After years of living on the mountain, all that snow became overly stifling to my senses. I recognize that my disappearance may have given cause for question, but understand that it was surely not intentional. Between the Travel Ban on the mountain and Mrs. Claus’s “decrees”, even I have limitations on where I am allowed to go. When I received the invitation, I thought it proper to attend in good faith.”

“Right, ten years later?” The man argued, cutting through the flowery words, “Regardless of a Travel Ban, you’re a Paragon, not a civilian, and surely you’ve heard Roza talk about the banquet before. Lady La Muerte sends invitations every year to every Paragon and Realm Elder, and yours simply went missing through the post?”

“I remember the banquet, yes, but not of any invitation sent specifically for me,” the woman countered, “However, I’ve recently found out that my invitations were either being hidden or disposed of. I was under the impression that my attendance was not requested.”

“And you didn’t ask anyone during your “Snow Drop Duty”? You need to be at a higher altitude to start the squall and the tallest point is the castle, so you must’ve visited All Hallows at some point,” the fae contested simply, “Why didn’t you ask for one of the Reyes?”

“Ria, this is a little-” Rozaliya started in a meek attempt to stop the intense interrogation, but the Record Keeper held his hand up, halting the nymph.

“This is necessary, Roza; you know as well as I do,” the Record Keeper interrupted the woman, eyes fixed to the elf, “Well?”

“By the time I arrived in All Hallows, the Reyes and citizens had already left for the Día de Los Muertos Festival in Remisia.” The elf stated calmly.

“Doesn’t your “little task” also account for Remisia? Did you not check there afterwards?”

Nyxis paused, her stare poised but her mind scrambling for an answer. She had to fight everything in her soul to not glance over to the prince.

After all, she spoke only to him, and blackmail was probably not the best thing to admit to right now. However, she swore then to keep the contents of their conversation private.

For every second that she didn’t answer, the various eyes bearing into her were wearing down her shields, and she didn’t have a proper response for this.

Shit. He got her.

‘Damn, he’s good.’

“I should probably explain what happened,” Geddeon abruptly confessed, raising his hand slowly, “I intercepted the commander before she left for Remisia and asked her to not interrupt the ongoing festival. In her defense, even I forgot about the banquet until I was pulled away for a fitting.”

Nyxis’s blue eyes snapped over to the prince, astounded.

‘Is he… defending me?’

“That’s cute or whatever, but regardless of the facts of the matter, ten years is a long time to suddenly have an interest in the rest of New Temperantia, So my questions still remain; why come through now? What’s the reason?” the fae frowned, throwing the proverbial ball back in the elf's court.

For a moment, the world around her slowed to a halt. She knew she had mere seconds to answer, and she knew she couldn’t avoid it. This was a push, and in the end, she wrestled with a sudden major decision.

Would she divulge everything she knew or remain shielded?

‘The Witch already keeps me concealed and the previous encounter proved that Roza wouldn’t abandon me.’

‘Maybe… I could actually…’

‘Be myself.’

Nyxis sighed, steeling the last of her resolve for the second time that evening.

‘Inner peace. Be calm.’

Even with the whole group’s attention, she remained poised, but her words were far more candid, following the Cape Paragons’ lead.

“Fuck it; I haven’t been around because Mrs. Claus has me under a fine scope. I can’t even wipe my ass without her demanding or commanding something from me, and I can’t maintain my own obligations to my citizens because she has personal grudges.” The elf explained, her shoulders dropping slowly.

“The extra day of travel?” The Record Keeper asked.

“I entered the Court on the 10th for my own sanity and Tyr made me spar with Rhyddid. They can vouch for me.” She stated, motioning towards the zephyr nymph.

“That’s facts.” Vincent spoke up, nodding his head in confirmation.

“Okay, and what about all the missed invitations?” The fae maintained.

“I didn’t lie about that; she typically leaves for one of her many vacations around this time, but she left earlier than expected this year,” Nyxis shook her head, “My only assumption is that she didn’t intercept my invitation this time. I’m here now because both Father Wynter and my family’s advisor suggested I attend the banquet to learn about New Temperantia from other people’s perspectives.”

The Record Keeper nodded slowly, seeming to process her words intently. No one else said anything after the elf went quiet, but for some reason, she felt as though they could hear her heart racing from where she stood.

This was a far more intense experience than the commander had expected.

“Ok, and what’s your honest opinion of Rowena?” the fae finally asked, folding his arms over his chest.

The elf subconsciously surveyed the room around them. She knew that the Witch was nowhere in sight, but it was a reflex she learned from living on the mountain. When she turned her attention towards the group, she felt her own face grimace into a sneer.

“If I could set the bitch on fire, I wouldn’t hesitate.” Nyxis answered honestly, throwing all caution into the night wind.

With another slow nod, the man’s calculated glare immediately softened into a light smile, and everyone’s shoulders seemingly fell in unison, relieved. “That’s an S tier ass answer.”

The commander’s brows furrowed, her gaze shifting between everyone in the courtyard. The royals seemed to loosen their reserved postures while the nymphs softened their expressions.

“You passed my test; you’re cool to me,” he responded, holding his hand out to the commander, “Welcome to the party.”

Nyxis’s face remained puzzled, but reached her own hand out, grasping hold of the man’s extended hand with a firm shake, “What was the test for?”

“Like I said; we wanted to understand your character. Many have tried to infiltrate this group to gain our specific political favor, but only a select few have passed my test.” The fae recited simply. “If you think I’m lying, just ask Roza; she was the last one to pass.” He nodded over to the water nymph, who nodded vigorously in confirmation.

“Wait, part of the test was to see if I hated my boss?” Nyxis asked, releasing the man’s hand.

“Six of one; half a dozen of the other. We wanted to see how honest you were while under pressure, and where your morality lied.” The redhead admitted with a shrug, “Also to see if you were a free spirit, so to speak.”

The elf nodded slowly, processing the new information. “Is that so?”

‘So they were testing my morality.’

‘Maybe I can ask him something about the Witch.’

“If you don’t mind me asking,” the commander began to question, “When you said I “pinged” the court gates, what did you mean by that, and does that apply to every Realm Gate?”

The Record Keeper shook his head briskly, “Any esprit that passes through the court, Paragon or not, is recorded by these gates with a record being sent to me. That rule only pertains to the Equinox Court gates.”

“Sounds like fun…” the elf commented, but her mind swirled with one thought.

‘So, he knew about the Witch and the book? But why isn’t he saying it out loud?’

“It’s actually quite annoying, because everyone has a set schedule of travel, so it just rapid fires throughout the year. But there are a few times where the names I receive raise suspicion, and there’s nothing I hate more than having to get curious.”

Nyxis could only silently marvel at the man’s psychological games. One thought opened the floodgates, and she instantly understood exactly what he was trying to say.

‘If the Record Keeper investigated specific people, he would look suspicious to the Elders. And if the SINNs were to notice the ongoing failure of the Elders and their Leaders, they could rug pull any potential negotiation of a renewed treaty until its resolution.’

‘He wouldn’t check into something unless he had a good reason to, and if I raised his suspicion just by commuting through the Equinox Court a day more than usual, I could only assume he knows about the Witch’s “vacations”.’

‘He probably recognized that even mentioning the Witch or the book within the Court at this time would have catastrophic consequences for me.’ 

‘It wouldn’t be an international incident; it could be a global disaster.’

‘Oh. He’s really good…’

 “So, you’re in, and since you’re Roza’s friend, you can call me Ria instead of my title.” The fae stated.

“Alright; I prefer Nyxis over Commander, to be honest,” the woman mentioned, her thoughts clearing away, “So, what am I “in”, per say?”

“I just so happen to be the new consultant of the Equinox Corps.” Riatris answered.

“The what now?” Vincent abruptly questioned aloud, his face scrunched with confusion.

“It’s an ambassador coalition of Paragons created with the sole mission of keeping the peace across New Temperantia,” the fae explained, “Every Paragon in this space was selected for a placement in the Corps, but there’s only five main placements; one for each country. I was told that I would receive a finalized list after the banquet.”

“Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” The prince asked.

“And why would we need one?” Cielo mentioned, doubling up the question.

“I wasn't supposed to say anything yet, but King Chamiabac shared this information with me this morning, apparently after their emergency Realm Elders’ meeting,” the Record Keeper noted, but further elaborated, “Two Elders have reported Void Spawn sightings from their generals. They’re reappearing across New Temperantia, and while one spawn was found on the path in between Chakram and Valkyrie, the other was located in a highly populated town.”

“Wait, across?” Terran frowned, turning his gaze towards the prince, “I thought you dealt with it, Gedd.”

“I did, back in Cycron. I didn’t know there was another sighting.” Geddeon argued back.

“That’s because the other was found on the mountain; Nyxis dispatched it near Valkyrie,” the man confirmed, nodding towards the elf, “The Elders considered the circumstances of the situation and decided to establish the Equinox Corps, but in order for it to be properly formed, each Elder has to submit their nominated Paragon delegate for the placement.”

“Do we have to fight each other for it?” Aeifael asked excitedly, standing and dusting her dress off.

“No; the countries with two or more Paragons are still to be decided by the Elders.” Riatris answered, “Roza was given her placement almost immediately, and Nyxis was nominated by Father Wynter as sole active Paragon, so there’s three left.”

“HA! Noice!” The water nymph cheered briefly before the fae’s worlds sunk in, “Wait, almost?”

“What happens if we don’t get a nomination?” Travis chimed in, standing up straight.

“The remaining Paragons will be listed as secondaries, supporting the nominated delegate and answering their orders.” The redhead concluded, rubbing the back of his neck. “But that’s all I know; I’ll probably find out more after dinner.”

Nyxis sank into her thoughts. The coalition was more or less a temporary station, but it held a lot of appreciation to be chosen by the Elders.

A Corps of Paragons, protecting the sanctity and wellness of New Temperantia?

‘Father Wynter gave me a nomination?’

When she snuck a gaze at the prince, the elf noticed a stare of confusion marring his face.

He wasn’t expecting this news, either. He looked more shocked than anything.

“Young Paragons, the banquet is set to begin. Please make your way towards the Grand Ballroom,” came a low baritone voice from the entrance of the garden. When the group turned their attention towards the stairs, one of the male servants was standing nearby, bowing to the group.

“Finally.” Aeifael grumbled, “The sooner we eat, the sooner we can leave.”

“Just watch your mouth, please. I don’t want an international incident.” The alrune begged the young woman.

“I can promise you nothing.” The rabbit retorted, her fluffy ears propping up to attention.

Rozaliya smiled and lent closer to the commander, “Bordeaux and Mt. Wynter sit next to each other, so I got you.”

“Ooo! Verne Valley sits next to Mt. Wynter! Can I sit next to you?” The rabbit asked, a slow smile raised towards the elf.

“Uh… Sure, if you want.” Nyxis confirmed as she watched the young woman’s eyes brighten in excitement.

It was just a dinner. How bad could it be?

It was the elf’s assumption that the seating arrangements were placed to clearly bring a group together. The lengthy Darkwood table hosted elegant centerpieces of gold and crimson placed in between a myriad of delicacies and cuisines from across the world. But even the chandeliers that glittered above with warm orange light couldn’t compose the commander.

Not with Fixx inconspicuously staring at her.

When they reentered the ballroom, the Paragons quickly moved to their seats. The Verne family sat across from the Midsummer precession and Record Keeper, while the Los Muertos family were placed across from Rozaliya and Nyxis. Elders towards the center, Paragons near the ends.

And inconveniently, Fitzgerald and Geddeon were sat next to each other, but across from her.

And the Scion’s weird staring was far too hard for her liking. The only respite, thankfully, was the nymph at her right side, and oddly enough, the young rabbit on her left, scowling at the man in her stead.

It didn’t halt the staring, but it was reassuring that she had some support.

Strangely though, the glare that the prince held on his cousin was prominent, but contained.

Ever since Lady La Muerte finished her toast of appreciation and welcoming of new guests, Fitzgerald’s grimy eyes hadn't moved from her face.

“If I may ask, Commander Frost,” Fixx began, his smirk growing back to its wildly gross grin, “How are you enjoying the banquet so far?”

Every Paragon in the room slowed their eating to hear, and the elf could clearly hear Geddeon tried to stifle a groan under his breath.

‘Ah shit, here we go again.’

Nyxis didn’t bother facing the man as she placed her fork down, “I’m having a pleasant time, thank you.”

“So composed, and not a single sign of stress? Nothing I say phases you.” The man commented, almost astounded by his own words, “What’s your secret? Tell me your ways!”

“I don’t react to things not worthy of my reaction,” The commander stated simply, her glare cold through fake smiling eyes. “That goes for uncouth conversations and statements.”

‘Inner Peace. BE CALM.’

“Well, allow me to try again.” Fixx nodded, placing his elbows on the table. “How often do you come down from the mountain? You are clearly a rare sight, perhaps I can arrange a tour of-”

“I don’t,” Nyxis interrupted, hoping to finish the conversation, “I have a rather erratic schedule.”

“Ah yes, Commander and all, I assume. Quite a demanding position of yours, I must say.” The man commented as he stared harder at the woman.

Without facing him, she shifted her foot underneath the table, resisting the gradual urge to kick him through it.

‘He cannot be like this all the time.’

Her patience was thinning into a thread, and in a moment, she was going to break said thread with a stiletto heel to his mouth.

If he did not shut it and soon, she was going to shut it for him.

“The last Claus fought hard to keep it pristine, so you must feel so proud of his endeavors.” Fixx theorized aloud, earning dynamic expressions from the Reyes and a jostle in his seat that finally pulled his gaze away to figure out the culprit.

From the corner of her eye, Lord Xibalba's scowl reflected behind his wine glass, clearly unamused with the talkative man.

However, the King of All Hallows simply looked disappointed.

She was growing tired of this farce, of these questions, and especially of this man.

‘I swear to Wynter, this had better not be another fucking test.’

Nyxis's gaze subtly roamed the table until she landed on the prince, who conveniently was staring back. However, his gaze differed greatly from his family.

He was bizarrely calm, as though he had made his peace with some internal struggle, and she was able to fully see the man’s green eyes under the chandelier light. 

Emerald green pools pinned to her face, but not in the same fashion as his cousin. It was more of a silent determination.

‘Vibrant…’

However, with a blink, green shifted to a brilliant orange. 

When her eyes darted between Fitzgerald and the prince, she watched as the regal man slowly raised his champagne flute to his lips, quietly tapping his finger against the side once and swallowing the mead in a single gulp.

She blinked.

‘Who taught him Elven Codes?’

‘And why did he tell me to wait?’

Geddeon's POV

Geddeon was used to his temper; he made himself aware of the signs.

While he couldn't claim to have perfect control, he held a decent amount. As any other Esprit living upon Aeon, he, of course, was prone to his fits of rage.

He had given into anger on many occasions and truly crashing out was a notion he steadfastly tried to avoid.

However, when one is born of the literal manifestation of Wrath, they tend to suffer from an explosive temper, to call it mildly.

He didn’t feel the familiar rolling flame in his gut; it was more of a burning hate, though not as wild, and the surrounding world would slowly lose its sharp edges, his vision blurring slightly as the feeling of a calm silence would overtake his body. 

The prince sat in a vacuum of his mind, just existing through muddled voices and an ever present thumping of blood and mana in his veins. His body felt warmer than usual, every molecule tingling and vibrating with rage. His limbs were feather light with itchy palms and fingers that clenched with an almost euphoric anticipation.

Most times, he would restrain himself, only to awaken far worse off then where he started. 

Geddeon had only ever lost himself once, and his experience induced great pains to make sure it never happened again. 

Control was important, essential even.

While he held tight to his control, he, too, had limits. Limits and boundaries that had been abused and neglected for years. Thousands of days of words left unspoken due to his father’s absence.

It was never this perilous before to speak with his father, and King Chamiabac’s anger towards him left a lingering regret in his stomach. 

However, that regret was quickly replaced with a rage he had only felt a select few times; the rage that held a point of no return.

And yet…

He was getting closer and closer to that ever present canyon edge.

And the view it promised was bottomless.

He knew he was fading and needed to latch onto something or someone.

He moved his gaze down the long table towards the seated Realm Elders, watching in real time as his father’s gaze on Fixx shifted from disappointment and concern to annoyance, but his uncle’s face gave him pause.

Xibalba was not looking at Fixx; his eyes were locked squarely onto Geddeon’s, holding neither reproach nor condemnation.

Before he could truly interpret his uncle's expression, he watched as the Reyes shared a look with each other. No words were said aloud, but Chamiabac had looked away first.

As a witness to the scene while trying to keep himself tethered, the prince was wholly confused.

What could have possibly been said without words?

Why did his uncle suddenly start grinning like that?

It wasn’t mirthful like his smiles normally were, in fact, it looked almost mischievous.

And even more puzzling, why was his father looking at him now?

Instantly, while maintaining eye contact, Chamiabac winked and nodded his head to the prince with silent affirmation.

Oh?

Oh!

‘Oohhh…’

And then it all clicked into place.

The thrum of rage was replaced with a blossoming auspicious vigor, followed by joy and validation. There was only one other time that his father had done the same exact gesture, back when the prince was merely a youngling learning the ropes of society.

He recalled a particularly vulgar delegate that was actively causing issues in the banquet hall of All-Hallows, and when Geddeon was unsure of how to proceed, Chamiabac had taken him aside.

The king had explained the importance of diplomacy and the soul of the nation it was built upon. He also said that sometimes, roadblocks were required to be removed, then gave him a wink and a stern nod. When that gesture occurred, the king personally leapt across the room, faster than lightning and slammed the delegate's head into the wall.

At that time, the king seemed so free. So, to see the very same validation now was soul-fulfilling.

No longer did Geddeon burn with repressed fury.

This was vindication.

This was elation!

For once, he didn’t have to quell the rage!

But as soon as he heard a light jostle to his right, he turned his head back towards his cousin, catching the commander’s gaze in the process.

The elf didn’t glare at him like she did on Día de Los Muertos; during social hour, she was quiet and a seemingly genuine person, but those eyes were very observant. She was even able to catch the vibes of his friends during their conversation and passed Riatris’s morality test.

But surely, after nearly an hour’s worth of questions, even she had to have limits.

The commander was collected, but her shoulders were tense and her posture was straighter than when she sat down. She was already in unfamiliar territory, and Fixx was clearly wearing her down.

No, when their eyes met, she had a silent uncertainty, moving in between himself and Fixx, who was none the wiser. 

And her grip on her steak knife was clenched quite tightly.

‘Was she really willing to stab him just to shut him up?’

‘Honestly, she’s better than me.’

‘Then again, if she was able to take down a Void Spawn, she could probably kill him.’

Calmly, Geddeon lifted the flute of golden liquid to his lips and tapped his finger against the side just once, watching as the commander’s eyes widened ever so slightly. He chugged the glass in one graceful gulp, and placed the glass down with a grand sigh.

He was greatful to Rozaliya for teaching him Elven Codes in the past, and while he only ever remembered the “One Tap” Rule, he made sure that the elf saw him do it.

‘Wait. Allow me to do the honors.’

Then, without warning, the prince promptly slammed his fist into his cousin’s nose, sending him and his chair backwards through the ashen stone wall of the grand ballroom.

“Pido disculpas a todos. Disculpadme.” Geddeon stated through a calm tone, standing from his chair and stalking through the hole in the wall.

He had promised his aunt and uncle to control himself, but he had been given the green light, and he already launched.

‘Please forgive me, Tía.’

He knew he would receive a proper earful from his aunt after the dinner, but this was, currently, a priority, per his kings.

“Well, aren’t you rude!” Fitzgerald shouted through his hand across the room, “I was having a conversation!”

“You got me fucked up if you think I’d ever believe that shit! That was a conversation? Regular people have the decency to shut up when others are uncomfortable.” The prince argued, clearly not in the mood for the scion’s shenanigans. 

“I was just learning more about little miss commander, and she didn’t say she was uncomfortable, so what’s the problem?” Fixx contested, wiping his mouth free of blood.

“That’s your problem; why can’t you just let shit go?! We all know what your “infatuations” look like, you fucking bum!” The prince fumed, his hands and body hot with rage. “You’ve been interrogating her since you got here. She clearly isn’t interested, so leave her alone.” 

“You know, I was kidding about the crush, but I didn’t think it was true.” The Scion teased with a sick grin.

“I don’t want to hear that shit, fuckhead. You were warned numerous times to watch your fucking mouth.” Vincent approached, his aura wildly crackling with electric yellow flashes.

“With numerous witnesses,” Terran added from the right side of Geddeon, a lime green glow emitting from his frame, “You’re lucky we didn’t rock your shit earlier for how you spoke to Roza.”

“Trying to build a harem, eh primo? I don’t know what your problem is; Roza wasn’t worthy of my time and she wasn’t even worthy of Elderhood. So I don’t have to address her as one.”

The prince immediately heard the cocking of Vincent’s gun, but he wouldn’t allow the nymph the satisfaction of the second punch.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Geddeon snarled as he stalked towards Fixx, his tail violently whipping behind him, “You mock everyone for nepotism and unearned valor when you are, by far, the least deserving of anything!”

“Oh please, unlike you-”

“You’ve done nothing!” The prince interrupted fiercely, “Nothing of note, nothing of consequence, nothing of importance! For fucks sake, Fitzgerald-”

“Watch it, primo-”

“You preen and preach about getting it out the mud when everything you are was gifted to you by a traitor who abandoned you the first chance he got!”

“Shut up!” Fixx roared, his own murky green aura sputtering to existence in large globs, “You don’t fucking know me!”

“We ALL know yoi, so fucking make me! Try to sneak me like you did last time! Maybe then, you’d finally get a different accolade for yourself other than murderer!” Geddeon bellowed.

“SHUT UP!” The Scion blared into the space with a reverberating echo that, disturbingly, was not his voice.

“MAKE ME, PUSSY! You was a bitch then and you a bitch now!” Geddeon snarled as his horns lit a bright orange, his tail whipping up the rubble and debris behind him. Faint wisps of smoke trailed from his mouth and his hands burned with bright golden flames that trailed up to his elbows. “Let’s get into it, then!”

“SAY LESS!” Fixx bellowed through gritted teeth, slamming the ferrule of his cane into the ground with a splintering crack. Within seconds, his foul aura bubbled as thick tendrils of shadows oozed and crawled up from the floor, launching towards the three Paragons.

Almost at once, each man met the tendrils with their own defensive maneuvers; Geddeon launched a brilliant display of flames while Vincent exuded a swirling vortex of lightning, though both paled in comparison by the numerous vine-like tendrils that issued from Terran.

All three elements converged with a thunderous explosion sending blustering winds throughout the room and cavernous halls, but none of the trio remained idle.

Geddeon had already started to move, the blazing light of his horns glinting through the cover of the debris remaining the only warning Fixx received before being rocketed back by a thunderous punch to the stomach.

“Ayo!”

Before the prince could even acknowledge the voice, he felt a rough wooden tendril wrap around his waist and an abrupt sense of vertigo as he was violently yanked backwards. Within seconds, it released him, sending him tumbling to the floor.

As he quickly moved to a crouch, Geddeon’s gaze snapped up at Terran indignantly, who nodded towards the towering spires of shadow that were primed to skewer the prince from above.

“We need to talk about your spatial awareness during fights,” Terran stated.

“Bro, now is not the time for a lecture!” The prince chided his friend.

“Then fight like you don’t fucking need one and pay attention.” Vincent interjected, hoisting the prince to his feet. As the last of the rubble settled to the floor, the three could see Fixx slowly rise from the floor. Despite their far distance, Geddeon could still make out the stream of red pouring from the man’s mouth.

“Y-You worthless, miserable, fucking WRETCHES!” The reverberating echo became even stronger, emitting soundwaves that vibrated across the massive hall, shattering the chandeliers above in a cascade of glass until the room was coated in darkness. He launched another wave of shadow tendrils, this time thicker and barbed to cover a wider ranged area.

The trio separated before the swarm could make contact, the strands so dense that the prince could no longer see his friends, though he could still hear them fighting against the swarm as he kept himself moving. In a burst of golden orange flames, he summoned twin khopesh to his hands, swinging through the jutting shadows that tried to block his advance.

‘I should apologize to Kujo if I get back.’

Geddeon slashed through each of the oncoming shadows, his khopesh blazing through each adversary. As he progressed, he hastily noted that the shadows themselves were learning from him, growing thicker and sturdier as he advanced on Fixx’s location.

Bolts of lightning extended through the shadows as the pop of a gun echoed throughout the space, parting the darkness with a bolt of yellow lightning for the briefest of seconds.

Just enough for him to quickly scan his surroundings.

As the oily black tendrils resurged from the Scion, the prince could see the rabid snarl that the man had on his face.

‘Someone’s aggy.’

Geddeon dodged around the mass of shadows, flames and wooden spikes tearing through the only barrier between him and his cousin. The tendrils swiveled towards him, the tips visibly hardening into skewers before they launched towards him.

‘Shit, they’re getting faster?!’

The prince barely dodged around the first three strikes before his blades blurred through the fourth set. Mid-recovery from misplaced footing allowed the fifth to clip him in the right shoulder, allowing an excruciating burning to radiate from the injury point, but there was no time to think.

Through the pain, he swiftly ducked under the sixth strike, bisecting it as he sidestepped and split the seventh tendril up from its base. Still moving, he slid under the eighth, and vaulted high over the ninth.

‘He can’t have much left in him.’

The prince was abrutly struck in the abdomen midair, but before he could be pierced through, a lime green shield emitted in front of him, blocking the blow. As he fell to the floor, three more of Fixx’s tendrils made contact with his shoulders, and right arm.

Rising from the ground, Geddeon was already midswing as his macuahuitl manifested in his hand, allowing the weight of the weapon to pull him forward into a spinning slash. He blurred through the forest of obsidian spires with the force of a burning buzzsaw, picking up speed until he appeared right behind Fixx.

“Peekaboo, pendejo!” The prince growled, his vicious smirk juxtaposed against the shocked rage of his cousin.

The macuahuitl glowed as it expanded to substantial proportions and with all the strength Geddeon could  muster, he slammed the massive greatsword down with such force that an explosion of flames erupted from it, the force cleaving through Fixx’s hastily summoned shield of shadows and slamming the man into the floor with a loud echo.

A flash of lightning blazed through the lingering shadows, blasting Fixx in the back to cause his focus on the massive fog of shadows to slip and dissipate.

Upon being struck, the scion attempted to pivot to face Vincent, only for a spiraling mass of healthy green vines to trap his hands and his lower body in a hardening vice grip.

Geddeon hastily scanned the area for his friends and by their disheveled glares, the three were absolutely on the same mental wavelength.

They all had had enough of Fixx’s shadowy bullshit.

The prince roughly hemmed up the scion by his tattered lapel, pulling the man close to his snarling visage. But the man was hardly amused, equally sharing the same sea of rolling rage in his cousin’s eyes.

“Are we done or are we finished!?”

Through a sinister bloody smirk, Fixx’s mana swiftly began to build. Before any of the men could properly assess the cause, the scion released an inhumanely deranged roar, unleashing the accumulated mana with a surge of foul greenish black energy that shattered the vine prison and uprooted the remaining tiles from the floor.

While the nymphs attempted to shield themselves with wind and earth magicks, the prince lacked such protections and was promptly launched across the room into a stone pillar on the opposite side.

Dazed and winded, Geddeon slowly staggered to his knees, more pained by landing spine first against the pillar than the force of the explosion. He immediately tried to locate his friends, but a sudden plume of black fog blanketed the room, creating another visual hazard.

“You must really wanna fucking die!” Vincent shouted, firing a barrage of lightning bullets at the scion, each one ricocheting off of Fixx’s cane that was now coated in that foul green essence of his aura. One of the deflected bullets flew past the prince’s head, the sharp crackling forcing him out of his stupor with alertness and caution.

As Geddeon observed the flashes of light dart across the space, he couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief. 

‘What the hell is going on?’

Fitzgerald had never been a fighter. They didn’t spar much, but the prince was absolutely certain that he was far stronger than Fixx. 

That was proven after their first spar session in decades, and if it weren’t for his father’s interference, Geddeon probably could have killed the cretin then.

So how did he surprisingly have enough mana to run toe-to-toe against two Tier 3 Spirits?

And why the hell was that aura so familiar?

‘Wait.’

The prince swiftly blinked away the mental fog, easily recalling what seemed to be a clear memory.

Fixx did not fight like this, and he was never previously capable of inflicting this level of damage. The scion was a conniving bastard that was prone to working in the shadows or behind some type of visual cover, apropos to his cunning character.

But brute force was something Geddeon had never considered from the man.

Unless…

He wasn’t using force.

‘That sneaky fuck!’

What was the vector?

What was the constant discrepancy in this fight?

Geddeon’s mind swirled with the possibilities until it all clicked into place, his eyes widening at the revelation. 

Since the very beginning of the battle, the hall had been cloaked in a persistent fog that was gradually growing denser; something the prince had immediately written off during first contact. But if the space was obscured with it, Fixx’s shadows could roam chaotically free.

Why would he need a smokescreen?

What was his end game?

What was he after?

Oh…

How predictable.

Geddeon’s hand hastily shot out and grabbed hold of solid air, gripping onto the invisible wrist of a camouflaged Fitzgerald. The shock seemed to stun his cousin as his invisible cover melted away before the prince.

As he examined Fixx in his grasp, the damage he sustained from this battle was clearly tearing him down. The shadows were never there; each strike had been the man hiding behind an illusion, but that also meant every blow the trio had dealt landed on Fitzgerald himself.

And by autumn, he looked horrid.

His formerly brushed back hair was raggedly disheveled, his wardrobe was in near tatters, and even his face was a mess of bruises and blood. He paralleled a pufferfish more than a person, and by the laboured breathing, the man was losing energy.

The glare of hate didn’t cease, though. That, if anything, was the strongest constant of the battle.

Too bad for him.

“YEEEERRRRRRR!” Geddeon called aloud, his hand clenching tighter on Fixx’s wrist until a fog-coated sword dropped to the floor, dripping a viscous liquid.

With a sonorous clap of echoing thunder and a flash of light, the prince swiftly sidestepped his cousin’s face as he watched Terran’s green-booted foot firmly plant on the back of the scion’s head, propelling the man into the closest standing stone pillar face first. 

As soon as Fixx made contact with the structure, the foggy illusion oozed away in a melting puddle of shadows, allowing Geddeon’s horns to light the space in full.

The blow staggered the scion, delaying his eventual climb to his feet, though as soon as the redhead pivoted to face the men, he was met with a glowing shortsword centered on the scion’s ribcage. 

“I will ask again.” Geddeon growled, his glare seething.

The click of a flintlock echoed nearby as the barrel appeared at the back of the scion’s head, “Are we done?” Vincent quipped, his voice low with exhaustion.

Then the sound of a honed edge cutting through the wind as a glaived blade directed against Fixx’s throat.

“Or are we finished?" Terran concluded tersely.

Fixx paused as his eyes darted around the men, but then he suddenly started to chuckle; a low chortle that grew into a full blown maniacal laugh. He pushed himself into the blade at his throat, though slightly enough to create a light laceration.

Except the fluid that dripped from the small incision wasn’t blood; it was a thicker syrupy black ichor that bubbled from the wound and oozed down his neck in thick globs.

Just like the Void Spawn from Cycron. 

“What the hell have you done to yourself?” Geddeon asked wryly, all three men standing to witness the same strange occurrence. In their shock, the trio let their hands slack for the briefest of seconds.

Rookie mistakes.

The prince’s thoughts were interrupted by a meaty ripping sound, then an abrupt burning pain in his stomach as something sharp pierced his abdomen. Gradually, Geddeon's strength left his form completely as he crumpled to the floor, his hand releasing the pointed blade with a sharp ringing clank.

His vision blurred, swimming in and out of focus as the sensation traveled through his body. He felt the wetness build in his mouth as the metallic sour taste of bile and blood coated his tongue, vomiting a fountain of the two liquids.

“Careful primo, you might choke on that ego of yours!” Fixx cajoled, his voice shrill and manic as he blasted another wave of his gross aura, unexpectedly striking all three of the men and hurling  them away into separate directions of the hall.

The prince weakly held the wound to his stomach, applying as much pressure as he could. He groggily glanced across the space, spotting Vincent laying on his back surrounded by stone rubble and a crater in the wall behind him. Across the way, Terran struggled to rise to his knees through the crumbled pillar debris, but he released his strength and fell to the floor.

This level of devastation.

This amount of mana.

What the hell did Fixx become?

Abruptly, four spindly fleshy tendrils had ripped through the skin of the scion’s back, each arm twitching and tipped with sharp sickled barbs that dripped a viscous mucus onto the floor.

Geddeon did witness the mutation, but in his fading mind, he didn’t know when his cousin had kicked him. The burning agony shooting through his abdomen left him writhing across the floor, barely noticing the movement between trying to keep himself alive.

Blood seeped from his mouth as the world began to fade.

‘Stay awake.’

Through his blurred vision, he could barely make out a robed figure floating nearby, spinning along with flashing lights and spots of color,

Awesome. He didn’t have hallucinations on his Fall Banquet bingo card, but that could explain why the hooded being shared his face down to the horns.

Even through the burning pain, he never before felt such a coldness in his limbs, shuddering yet still as though his body was filled with lead.

‘Am I dying?’

‘Is this what dying feels like?’

‘No. Focus!’

‘Remember what Tía Envy taught you.’

Geddeon reached out with his aura, attempting to send his mana racing through his system, but only a weak orange glow emitted from his frame. With a sharp huff, he began to focus on pushing more mana through his system, sending a surge of energy rushing through his body. The prince felt his body perspire and his eyes tearing up as he spewed blood laced bile, black as obsidian splashed onto the floor.

In previous lessons with his aunt, Envy had noticed the young prince’s inability to manage curses and hexes, teaching him a way to stave off virulent toxins whilst waiting for appropriate aid. By expending double the mana within an esprit’s body and focusing on antigens, anyone could realistically hold off poisons.

But without the proper care and after a certain period of time, an esprit could empty their reserves and succumb to the toxin.

Much like a fever, you just gotta brute force it.

Gradually, Geddeon felt his vision sharpen, his limbs heavy but once again back under his control. He could finally hear past the blood pumping in his ears as well as the sound of approaching footsteps and a sharp chittering sound. The scion was saying something, but also nothing.

‘He loves the sound of his own voice.’

“I should have known your arrogance would win me the day! Do you know how many trials I had to go through to get that strain just right?!” Fitzgerald projected wildly, “You fucking neanderthals could never understand the amount of bullshit I’ve put myself through! None of you have the drive nor the passion to-” 

The scion carried on with his grandiose monologuing, but the prince was more distracted with a faint scratching against stone.

Two scratches. Pause. Two scratches. Pause. Two scratches. Pause. Then one.

It was an odd array that typically wouldn’t raise suspicion, but he knew that pattern.

‘Terran?’

It was one of their sparring codes, a little something the three had cooked up as children years ago. The alrune had steadfastly opposed ever using it just to spite his friends, but now Geddeon could hear the instructions clear as day.

‘…Vince. Healed…’

‘…Keep. Occupied…’

‘…Need. Time…’

‘...Armor…’

The prince understood the assignment, feigning weakness as he meekly staggered to his hands and knees. It wasn’t completely a lie; it was taking more of his mana to purge the toxin from his system and he was still reeling from the stab wound.

But he sure as hell couldn’t fake his hatred for Fixx.

“Ah ah ah!” Fixx taunted as he slammed his foot into Geddeon’s side. Through fake gritted teeth, the prince fell to the wayside, writhing in alleged agony, praying his cousin’s arrogance would keep him from seeing through the facade.

Thankfully, his cousin was too simple of a man to notice.

“Do you know just how refreshing it is to finally stop pretending? Do you know how many alrune and water nymphs I had to cut down to get the toxin this lethal?” The scion chuckled as he sent another kick into the prince’s ribs, rolling the man on his back enough to spit the remnants of blood from his mouth as Fixx pressed a foot onto his chest. “And don’t get me started on the work I had to do, just to learn your fucking tactics?! Gods, Cycron, alone, was a pain in the ass.”

Upon hearing the town’s name, Geddeon felt his blood run cold.

He was right; His assumptions were spot on.

It was Fixx the whole time.

‘Why is he confessing his crimes to me?’

‘Did he truly believe his toxin was so powerful that possible witnesses wouldn't survive to tell the tale?’

‘What the fuck are you after?!’

And then, they both felt it.

A typhoon of forest green mana suddenly buffeted the area, launching towards the men, though when the scion attempted to twist around, the prince’s tail wrapped around the man’s ankle to hold him still.

When they locked eyes, Fixx was clearly in shock. 

“HOW?! HOW DID YOU BEAT MY TOXIN?!” he shrieked, expecting an answer.

But he was not appeased when Geddeon simply grinned back with bloody teeth, all but excited to vex his cousin.

“YOU IMPUDENT VEXATIOUS FUC-” Fixx’s tyrade was cut off by a wooden gauntlet-covered fist slammed into his face, rocketing the malcontent fuck into another stone pillar.

Geddeon chuckled as he rolled to stand, his tired hands coming to rest on his knees.

It had been a while since he had seen Terran in his Armament, but good autumn, was it awe inspiring.

Terran was already a tall man, standing taller than the prince himself, but the armor made the alrune seem larger than life.

His banquet attire was replaced with wooden lacquered armor, his face lacquered with a demonic half mask with protruding curved fangs; the design reminiscent of a snarling beast.

Even the glaive in his hand gleamed forest green with purpose and strength.

If Geddeon was still in his right mind, he’d feel jealous, but at that moment, he was just relieved to see his friend relatively unharmed.

“You good?” the echoing voice echoed from the alrune’s helmet.

Spitting the remaining blood and bitter bile from his lips, the prince’s only response was a thumbs up. He felt his friend place a hand on his shoulder, emitting a glowing green light. Instantly, he felt the remnant of the Toxin fade as his body began to feel regular again.

“Gotta love that Verne Valley Magick,” Geddeon rasped out, nodding to his friend in appreciation.

“It pays to learn a spell or two.” Terran chided.

“You act like I have that capability.”

“Sounds like a skill issue.”

From the corner of his eye, the prince spotted another one of those annoying ass shadows, but before he could react, the hall flashed as a lightning bolt fired across the room, followed by a thunderous crack echoing throughout the space.

When the men turned, they noticed Vincent hobbling towards them and the shadow behind them sizzling into smoke.

“Fuck ass, sneak ass, bitch ass bug armed bum bitch!” Vincent grumbled as he pulled his second gun from his cape.

“Put those away before you hurt yourself.” The alrune deadpanned as he stalked towards the scion, twirling the glaive in hand in preparation.

“Fuck around; I’m blastin, not askin.” The zephyr nymph quipped.

“Cocky bastard, ain't he?” Geddeon mentioned with a wry grin.

“Glad you said it, cuz I’m ready to hurt his feelings.” Vincent agreed, glaring down at the feeble man.

“Don't worry ‘bout it; we're done now.” Terran complained with finality.

“Oh!? We’re done, eh?!” Came the rebellious scream from Fixx, who sat writhing his insectoid appendages, lashing them out toward Terran.

“Yeah,” the alrune slammed his heel to the floor, sending a rolling wave of trees surging forth, slamming into the scion whilst twisting and wrapping around him, “We’re fucking done.”

The prison wasn’t a thin layer of wood; it was built with layer upon layer of hardened darkwood that tightened and grew until the man’s entire body was completely encased, save for his head. Try as he might, Fixx struggled in vain as he tried to free himself from the massive Darkwood tree he was embedded in.

The prince let out a long whistle as he gazed up at the massive tree, “I think this is the biggest one yet.”

“I've made bigger, just ask Trav.” the alrune finished, his armor disappearing like leaves blowing in the wind.

“Fitzgerald de Esperanto.” A woman’s loud voice echoed from the banquet room, pausing Geddeon in his temporary peace. As the trio pivoted towards the voice, various figures appeared before Fixx, standing before the tree in disdain.

“The fuck do you want, cow!?” He shouted back, his face battered, bruised and red. 

The Realm Elders merely stared at the man but Lady Wrath walked forward, unphased by his insult, “Your previous transgressions against your country, your family and the Court may have been forgiven, but your current offenses are due for judgement. You’ve had various opportunities to rejoin society, yet in these past weeks, you have consistently shown that you aren’t willing to compromise.”

“Compromise? Find me a fuck, you whore! I don’t care about you or your little palace rules! My grandfather tried to compromise, and he was slaughtered by your Great Lord Xibalba!” The man spat viciously, his eyes wildly bugging from his head, “You want me to play nice with the bastards that stole my birthright?! Fuck you; you’re all corrupt!!”

Geddeon’s gaze moved from his cousin to his uncle, stunned by Fixx’s frenzied ranting. He couldn’t see the man’s reaction, but he could feel the King’s aura from where he stood.

‘What did he mean by that?’

How dare he make such grand accusations in the presence of Elders, and specifically, towards a SINN.

He clearly had a death wish, but his mother delivered on her promises.

“That is quite a bold claim, young Fitzgerald. Need I remind you whom you are speaking to?” Chamiabac spoke aloud, his head raised.

‘My thoughts exactly. Why are they just allowing him to slander them so brazenly?’

“Spare me the trifle, Your Majesty! I don’t care; you’re all the same in my eyes! Especially that FUCK!” The man shouted back, cocking his head towards the prince.

The energy of the hall began to feel suffocatingly hot as La Muerte phased through the wall in a trail of smoke. She glanced over to the trio with angered eyes, but the rage wasn’t directed towards them. “Leave. Us.” She demanded sharply.

The prince felt a sudden tugging on his tattered coat, snapping his attention down to Aeifael. His brows furrowed, but she remained quiet, and her gold eyes said everything she couldn’t. The battle may have excited her initially, but she still held a worried gaze.

If she was any more scared, she would have shifted back into a rabbit.

“C’mon, hurry.” Aeifael whispered to the men, grabbing hold of both Geddeon and Terran’s hands and swiftly leading them towards the hole in the wall. Travis hurriedly waved them over, allowing them purchase over the debris with wooden steps. When the arbor nymph made sure everyone crossed through, he pulled his hand back, dissolving the stairs into sticks and small branches.

When the group retreated through to the banquet hall, it appeared wholly unaffected, past the shattered glass from the prince’s initial strike, but the room was clear of people and servants. Only Travis and Riatris remained.

“Lady La Muerte sent the girls over to the Rem Garden with Tyr.” The arbor nymph explained before pointing towards the young woman standing between them, “But she shifted and snuck out.”

The alrune’s gaze snapped over to his sister, prepared to chide her for disobeying orders, but he halted and carefully observed her. After a moment, he ultimately sighed. “You were worried.”

“I was,” the rabbit confirmed with a nod. She didn’t explain further, but nothing more needed to be said.

Aeifael had done this multiple times before, every single time the boys’ were previously punished for their wild group antics.

“We’re alright. Just a few scratches.” Geddeon soothed, opening his arms as proof.

“He wasn’t difficult; just annoying,” Vincent shrugged, walking past them towards the garden, “You’re pretty bold to sneak past Tyr.”

“Oh, it was easy, barely an inconvenience.” Aeifael confessed, monotonely.

“Oh, really?” The prince questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Yeah. He wanted to know who won, so he sent me,” She shrugged back, “But we shouldn’t stay here. Let Mom deal with it.” The girl softly advised them.

“As rare as it is, I agree with her. Let’s go.” The alrune confirmed, “Ria?”

“I have to stay, unfortunately. Lady Wrath said that a neutral Paragon needs to be a witness.” The redhead frowned, shaking his head.

“A witness to what?” Geddeon questioned, his brows furrowed. But instead of answering, the fae simply nodded towards the hole, his attention solely on the scene within.

The small group of Paragons all turned towards the commotion, ears closely listening to the ramblings of Fixx. The small rabbit tucked herself behind her eldest brother’s tattered cape, her ears dropped to be less conspicuous.

“That’s enough, Fitzgerald,” Wrath frowned, her arms folded under her chest, “For your transgressions, you must face judgement.”

“Judgement?!” The scion’s voice boomed from behind the crumbling wall, “You got nothing on me!”

“Then, explain the rotting wood near Lazuli Lake,” Mother Nature sternly ordered, her voice less of a mother, and more reminiscent of an Elder, “My children have linked the mana traces back to you, and my researchers confirmed it.”

“You would be biased towards your children! Some compassionate Elder you are!” Fixx rambled, “Is this what you call “inviting” behavior?!”

“Or, perhaps you could explain why you were in Cycron during the Void Spawn Event?” The Remisian King questioned aloud, “Various accounts have stated that you were in the area moments before the event, and numerous others have stated they saw you summoning Void Spawn.”

“All lies and slander! Those people would do anything to make a Ruins Royal concede defeat. They deserved whatever they got!”

“You have been very busy, and we want answers, nephew.” Chamiabac demanded, his voice stoic.

“Yeah, and people in your country want clean water!! Not everyone gets what the fuck they want! You’ve made that quite claro, Tío!” Fixx screamed, writhing in his wooden prison to no avail, “I don’t have to answer to any of you usurpers!!”

“Are you certain about this decision?” Wrath warned, her voice even and resolute.

“It was your decision to make that horned fucker crown prince! It was the Reyes’ decision to kill my grandfather! All of you decided not to avenge my father, your blood, from those Mt. Wynter bastards, and you invite a snowflake before your own family?!” the scion countered, nearly frothing at the mouth, “Answer for your own crimes-”

Terran leaned closer to the prince, his voice quietly muffled behind his mask, “Did you know any of this?”

Geddeon stared at the scene in front of him, noticing the raging deep green flames that fumed from his uncle's frame, as well as the yellow blaze of his father's aura.

He had only ever seen Xibalba’s aura a handful of times, but he had very rarely seen his father’s.

Any other time, he would be nervous or in awe, but there was a deep dread currently settling into the pit of his stomach.

“No.” The prince answered quietly, careful to not shake his head or make noise.

No. He needed to do as his friends mentioned and pay attention.

“If this is your chosen route,” the SINN warned, stepping backwards into the group of Elders, “Then you leave us with no choice. Xibalba, if you would.”

Geddeon’s eyes widened, the severity of the situation sinking in.

While King Chamiabac was the King of All Hallows, Lord Xibalba was the actual Realm Elder of the Autumnal Ruins.

For the prince’s uncle to be taking action in lieu of his father was a dire severity. 

“Decisions were made by adults who understand the workings of the world, but you knew that before you returned.” Xibalba announced, holding his hand in the general area of Fixx’s chest, “For your crimes of treason against Verne Valley and the Autumnal Ruins, your sentence is extraction. You are a danger to yourself and others, and since you cannot be trusted with the mana in your soul, it will be removed.”

‘That was an option?!’

‘I didn’t know they knew how to do that!’

As the Remisian King’s hand began to glow a deep orange, the wild ranting of Fixx slowly creeped into a sinister laugh, “Is that so, Tío?! Take it then! Take every morsel of connection that I have with this fucked up family. Do it and prove my father right!!”

Geddeon watched as Xibalba placed the palm of his hand on the tree, the glow brightening to a blinding degree, causing the Paragon group to shield their eyes from the brightness, the prince could clearly hear an excruciatingly pained roar from the scion.

The sound was soul-crushing, and while part of Geddeon was troubled by what he couldn’t stop, he also couldn’t help the flutter of relief.

His suspicions were correct.

He tried to prevent this.

He knew Fixx couldn’t be trusted, but to cause a tragedy was equally despicable.

His father was right: life will show you what you can and cannot handle.

Seconds passed into minutes before Terran lightly elbowed the prince, grabbing his attention, “We did what we could. Let the Elders handle it.”

“Can we leave?” Aeifael whispered to the men, her small frame shaking with fear.

“Yeah,” the arbor nymph muttered back, wrapping a protective arm around his little sister, “Guys, let’s go.”

With a sure nod, the small group of Paragons slowly made their way towards the stairs where Vincent stood, leaving the Record Keeper to observe.

Until the entirety of the Equinox Court abruptly shook; minor at first, but it quickly increased in intensity with each passing second.

The prince, alrune, and zephyr nymph all caught each other’s equally confused gazes.

‘What the fuck is going on?!’

The roar of Fixx that raged throughout the hall gradually distorted into a horridly darker tone with a haunting reverberating echo.

As soon as it started, the pit in Geddeon’s stomach dropped to the floor. There was an intense pressure in the air that halted all of his movement, almost slowing down time.

Stronger than any aura he had ever experienced.

Far stronger than even his mother’s aura, which was nothing to blink at.

“Finally.”

The prince had never heard such a voice before, and everything about it screamed wrong.

And to make matters worse, the demented voice echoed in his head, not his ears.

“You have my gratitude for releasing my vessel from his shackles. You needn't worry, though; he is merely following his destiny, such as all being within my line.”

Geddeon tried to swallow the limp in his throat, but the immense pressure kept him still.

“You are all but simple creatures in a maze of my creation, and yet, everything is going according to plan.”

“Who or what are you?” Wrath questioned aloud, her tone a domineering echo reflecting off the stone walls. It wasn’t frantic as many would be.

“I am the catalyst.”

Then, just as time seemed to resume and Geddeon regained control of his body, a sudden shockwave of mana exploded throughout the Court, shaking the space in unimaginable levels and catching everyone completely off guard. The various crackles and snaps of wood echoed in the air, followed by another deep bellow from Fixx. 

The force threw the group into the entrance of the Rem Garden, allowing Terran and Vincent to summon shields of wind and wood as soon as their feet gained traction to the floor.

“What the fuck was that?!” The zephyr nymph queried, staring back towards the hole.

“Fuck if I know, but that wasn’t normal!” Geddeon stated, shaking his head. “Everybody good?”

“Yeah, but we should probably leave!” Travis reasoned, covering his sister from the blast.

“Go, We’ll give cover.” Vincent ordered, moving next to the alrune to strengthen the barriers.

Swiftly, the younger Verne children moved further into the garden, with the prince at their back, and the nymphs on their heels.

Crossing the threshold into the garden, the silence was a welcome repose from the noise and abject desolation of the hall. The cold night air was immediately soothing to the prince, his skin cooling from sweat.

“You’re okay!” A softer voice called out from the fountain. 

When Geddeon glanced up, he spotted Cielo running over, with Rozaliya and Nyxis walking close behind.

“Yeah, it was no sweat.” The prince shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant.

“You’re sweating profusely,” Rozaliya chuckled, “Did you at least win?”

“We whooped his ass.” Terran quipped incredulously, barely skipping a beat.

“I’m surprised you did after that.” Travis mentioned, “You flew into a wall.”

The alrune glared at his younger brother, “Do you want to fly into one next?”

“Oh nah, I’m good.” The redhead chuckled weakly, holding his hands up.

“Was that what that shaking was?” Rozaliya questioned, scanning the group.

“No,” Geddeon started, “We… actually don’t know what caused it. We were pushed out of the room before we could find out.”

”So, what happened?” The water nymph asked.

“Long story short, We fought the bastard, then the Elders… extracted Fixx’s mana from his soul.” The prince quietly explained, his words slowly trailing off.

He watched as Cielo and Rozaliya shared the same confused gaze with each other, but when he turned to the commander, her face was contemplative, as if she was trying to understand a lot of things at once.

This was her first banquet in ten years, so she must’ve had a lot of questions and concerns.

But if she did, she wasn’t voicing them; she simply remained silent, quietly listening and observing.

“They can do that?!” The princess squeaked, the actual fear setting in on her face.

“Yeah… it was… an experience…” the rabbit muttered, wringing her hands nervously in front of her.

Cielo reached out to the young girl and grabbed hold of her hands, carefully patting her shoulder, “You didn’t see it, did you?”

“No, but I heard it.” The rabbit whimpered, shaking her head swiftly. “The tree…broke.”

“What do you mean?” Terran frowned, “That was a sturdier version.”

“I heard it snap, then a scary voice.” Aeifael reiterated.

“So you heard it too.” Tyr voiced as he approached the group. After approximately two hours of straight drinking, at least to the prince, the man surely seemed sober. He scanned the group and, more specifically, the trio of fighters.

“Do you know what that was, or rather who?” Travis asked the honorary fae.

“No, but I have a feeling that my services will be needed,” Tyr answered simply, walking past the Paragons, “You all should stay here, and Roza’s in charge until further notice.”

“What? Why?” The water nymph sounded.

“Because you’re the oldest, and I said so.” The man ordered sternly, passing through the threshold of the garden.

“We're all adults! They don’t need a fucking babysitter!” Rozaliya countered, flustered by the comment, “I’m not that much older than them!”

But Tyr didn’t respond back to her. He simply proceeded to the hall.

“It’s okay Ro, it just means you’re the most experienced person in the room.” the commander mentioned suddenly, patting the woman’s shoulder.

“Ro? That’s a new one.” Terran teased with a snicker, catching the glare of the water nymph.

“Don’t get comfy with that! Only Nyx can call me that.” Rozaliya warned, pointing at the alrune.

“You both must be really close then.” Cielo pondered aloud.

“Well, yeah. She’s like a little sister to me,” the woman confessed proudly, earning a stunned stare from the elf. “Plus, I promised Bast that I’d look after her.”

“Who’s that?” Travis chimed in, earning a quiet chuckle from the prince.

The arbor nymph was probably too young to remember, but Geddeon clearly recalled the young Ringfeld. Back when the Fall Banquets involved full processions and entourages of the realms, they had met, though both were equally too involved in their own country’s security detail to converse.

Though, from their brief interactions, the prince had deemed the elf quite chill and aloof, but with a sharp mind and an even quicker tongue.

“He’s my family’s advisor,” The commander explained softly, rubbing her forearm with her thumb, “We sort of came up in the ranks together and after the… incident happened, we had to fill in our parent’s ranks, except I was too young. Instead, my trial was for the Jack Frost Title, and he’s been our advisor ever since.”

Geddeon’s brows furrowed as he observed the woman carefully. She had a melancholic gaze in her eyes, almost thoughtfully reminiscing of a dear friend. His eyes shifted down to her hands briefly, noting the self soothing motions.

‘The commander has a nervous tick?’

‘Either she’s being very forthcoming with information or she’s setting up lies for later. But if Roza trusts her this much, maybe we can, too.’

“Sounds like you both had to grow up very quickly,” the prince added, careful to not start an issue, “Maybe it was for the best.”

That sentence made the commander fully face him, more puzzled glacier blue pools staring back.

“Would you care to elaborate?” She queried, tilting her head slightly, but not removing eye contact.

‘Piercing…’

“What I mean is that you have someone reliable enough to fall back on; someone that equally understands your struggle and won’t hesitate to tell you the harsh truth,” the prince responded, “If he’s your advisor, then you’re definitely in good hands.”

The woman seemed stunned by his answer, her brows rising with surprise, though in the seconds of silence, Geddeon suddenly wondered if he had spoken too brazenly.

‘I didn’t say something offensive, did I?’

After a moment, the commander softened her face, her gaze remained on his, “Perhaps you’re right.” She pondered aloud, her voice trailing off.

Equally stunned by her response, Geddeon was rendered silent, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

He hadn’t expected the elf to agree with him, much less speak to him.

Contrary to most of his assumptions, she wasn’t abrasive or rude, but an astute observer that listened; she was just a woman trying to do her job with forces working against her.

The elf was overwhelmed; he knew that life well.

Maybe they weren’t so dissimilar.

However, before he could respond again, light approaching footsteps echoed on the stone pavement behind them, pulling their attention from each other.

Riatris walked into the courtyard with his hands in his pockets, and a black marble clipboard hovering next to his frame.

Geddeon knew the sign; if the clipboard was floating in the air, the Record Keeper was back at work.

‘The banquet is more than likely over…’

“Paragons, as stated earlier in the evening, the Realm Elders have made their decisions regarding their delegates for the Equinox Corps; they are as follows,” The fae began, his voice projected in the night air, the group listening close, “With additional nominations from Lady Wrath and Tyr, the Midsummer Placement goes to Vincent. Princess Cielo will be your support.”

“I figured as much,” the zephyr nymph promptly stated, cracking his neck at the mention of his name, “Sorry, Lo. No hard feelings.”

“None whatsoever. It was probably for the best.” The princess conceded, sighing a breath of relief.

The Record Keeper continued on, “With additional nominations from Fae Queen Astoria and Tyr, Terran will be the Verne Paragon; Travis and Aeifael will be your support.”

Geddeon felt his nose crinkle and face contort. In truth, he wasn’t sure how the placements were actually chosen, but he could have assumed that it was the specific Realm Elders that chose their own delegates.

However, that clearly was not the case, because it felt more like a free-for-all.

Even still…

‘Tyr, I understand, but the Midsummer Queen chose Terran?’

“What?! But I didn’t even get a chance to pop my shit!!” The rabbit shouted abruptly.

“You promised Mom you would behave. I made no such promise because she already trusts me.” The alrune jeered back.

“That’s bullshit logic!” Aeifael complained, stomping her foot on the stone.

“Womp womp.” Travis retorted.

“With an additional nomination from King Chamiabac, Geddeon will be the Autumnal Ruins delegate as the sole available Paragon.”

The prince frowned almost immediately. 

What should have been a joyous occasion that he could celebrate with his friends was swiftly stunted when a single word sent his mind swirling.

‘...Additional?’

‘He didn't pick me to begin with?’

‘How many times do I have to prove myself to him?’

“With additional nominations from Lady Wrath and Lord Xibalba, Nyxis is the Mt. Wynter delegate as the sole available Paragon. Bordeaux's delegate with a nomination from Lust will be Rozaliya.” Riatris finished, waiving his ledger away.

Geddeon couldn’t help stealing a glance at the commander. He didn’t know why he looked over to her, but apparently, she returned his puzzled gaze. And she probably was thinking the same thought he did.

They were the only available Paragons for the placements.

But was this a privilege, or was it that they were a last resort?

“Each delegate will report to the Equinox Court tomorrow morning at 0600 for mandatory training with Tyr. You will receive your orders then,” The fae stated before making direct eye contact with the elf, “Commander Frost, it's time for the audience you requested with the Reyes. Follow me.” he advised with a tired tone, turning to walk away.

‘She requested an audience?’

‘When did she have time to do that?’

The elf nodded briskly and took a few steps forward before stopping entirely, turning towards the group.

“It really was nice to see you all again, even if it was brief.” She insisted, bowing in respect.

“Don’t be a stranger!” The arbor nymph chimed, waving at the woman, “Maybe you can visit us in Yggdrasil next time.”

Terran and Vincent returned nods of confirmation, the rabbit's face held a frown.

“Awww. Do you have to leave now?” The girl complained, her black ears dropping.

“She has business to attend to. Don't be rude.” The alrune chided, folding his arms over his chest.

The prince nodded in kind, once again catching a glimpse of the elf’s face.

For the briefest of moments, she seemed nervous, more so than when she spoke to Fixx. 

But then, her eyes caught his again, this time resolute, “We’re even now.” She voiced aloud, breaking her gaze and leaving the prince and his friends bewildered.

“What did that mean?” Cielo asked the prince.

‘We’re even?’

‘What did she mean by…’

‘Oh!’

Geddeon couldn’t help the smirk that crawled onto his face. It took him a moment, but he gradually recalled their last conversation from the 1st of Novembris, her voice replaying in his head.

‘A free favor, one that I can use on anything; anytime, anywhere.’

In exchange for not throwing a squall over Remisia during the festivities, she considered the prince’s assault on his cousin her favor.

“No idea.” Geddeon lied through a deep sigh, glancing into the darkened night sky, his gaze pulled by the Celestia Moon.

‘Brilliant Blue Blessings, huh?’

‘That’s strange… Her eyes are the same shade of blue.’