Drake was the youngest of the royal children, and also the best looking out of all his brothers. Silver eyes narrowing into a playful smile, the prince shook his head at Syryn like he had caught a child sneaking his hand into the forbidden biscuit jar.

"-and it's time we got the festival started. The citizens are all waiting for your arrival." The emperor was done socialising with his courtiers. With his dismissal, people began to soon trickle out one by one. Syryn looked at the Night king one last time after turning away from Drake. The alchemist caught sight of the tail end of his cloak as the man swept out of the court like his heels were on fire.

"Sebastian," Syryn whispered to the mage quite urgently. "Drake recognised me. I have to go speak with him."

"Where is he?"

"Waiting for me," Syryn answered. He looked at the prince standing near a pillar and looking pointedly in his direction. "I think he wants an explanation."

"Are you sure he recognised ya?" Sebastian frowned at yet another problem they had to deal with.

"Positive. Wait here for me." Syryn was less stressed out than his partner. He had come to find that Sebastian was a reliable man, and trusted that he would take care of their unexpected marriage ceremony.

With a parting nod, the alchemist walked out of court and followed Drake who was just a few steps ahead of him. The prince led Syryn down a set of stairs and then through a corridor that was clear of people.

"Queen Casseopia, and fiancé to Archer Sebastian Gregorious. When did you become a woman, Syryn?" Drake asked him as soon as the teenager rounded a corner nearly bumping into the prince. The corridor here opened up to a luxurious garden where an ornamental pond lay at its centre.

"Hello to you too, Drake," Syryn answered. "You're not going to tell your parents about this."

"I won't," Drake replied. He looked happy, a sign that Syryn might not get reported. "I understand why Sebastian would resort to faking a fiance. What I can't comprehend is how he managed to rope you into his scheme. What do you get out of this?"

"An opportunity to meet you, and that's enough isn't it?" Syryn's eyes curved up into a winsome smile. "How did you know it was me?"

Drake involuntarily smiled back at Syryn. The younger mage's smile was infectious and attractive though the prince could only see above the boy's nose.

"It's easy to tell. I've never met anyone with eyes like yours, Syryn. It's not just the colour that makes you unique," Drake angled his head while holding Syryn's gaze. "You always have this look in your eyes like you're hiding a particularly riveting secret. I don't think I'll ever mistake them for another's."

"A secret? Do you know what it might be?"

Drake shook his head. "I don't, and I never want to know. It keeps the mystery alive." With some hesitation, Drake reached out to lift Syryn's veil for a peek. "It was a shock seeing you like this."

"A bad or a good kind of shock?"

"You're one of the prettiest men I've ever seen, Syryn. Of course, it's a good kind of shock. Only you could pull of feminine clothing and not look odd in it."

His masculinity suddenly took a massive hit of damage. Syryn's supernatural strength made the building of muscles a redundant chore but now he considered the idea of gaining some bulging biceps.

"Anyway, we should catch up another time. You have a duty to complete, and I cannot hold you hostage any longer."

"You're right, I'm getting late," Syryn raised his chin and regarded the prince with narrowed eyes. "But before I go, I want you to know something."

The prince nodded, a regal tilt of his head that he must have picked up from his noble mother. "Yes?"

"So Drake." Syryn's list was shaking with excitement.

"Yes, Syryn?"

"I've never kissed a prince before. It's a shame, isn't it? There aren't a lot of princes to steal kisses off of."

Drake blinked in surprise. Was he misinterpreting syryn's words? He hoped not.

"Then I am obliged to inform you of this fact, Syryn, I'm a prince," his silver gaze flickered to the younger mage's lips and back up.

"So you are," Syryn stepped closer to his intended target. Unfortunately, his plans weren't meant to be.

"Cassiopeia! My lovely fuckin' Cassiopeia. Hell of a day ta pick fer commitin' adultery, don't ya think?" Sebastian's annoyed voice came from behind Syryn. "Your highness, this one is off-limits."

Syryn was yanked away by his irate 'fiancé'. He had been so close to striking off another name on his list.

"Why are you here, Sebastian? I told you to wait outside." Syryn's glare could have cut down a lesser man.

Sebastian glared back at Syryn with equal force."Ya see I was getting worried about my fiancé who I thought was bein' faithful and-"

"I'll see you another time, Drake." The teenager cut off Sebastian's words. No way was he getting lectured about unfaithful behaviour from a fake fiancé.

"Have fun tonight, Syryn," the prince replied, disappointment evident in the piqued lift of his brows. He was much too well mannered of a prince to mouth off at Sebastian though it seemed like he wanted to. "And my apologies for what nearly transpired with your fiancé, Sebastian. I was under the impression that the engagement was fake." His words were sincere but his smile said otherwise.

"Maybe it is. But here's a warnin' that I'm givin' ya out of the goodness of my heart, your highness. This one really is off-limits. You'll thank me in the future." The mage winked at Drake before dragging Syryn away by the crook of his arm.

"I am not off limits!" Syryn's disgruntled words followed their speed walk towards the carriage. "I'm a single man, Sebastian. Let me live!"

"The Night King and his forces are already out terrorising the citizens, Cassiopeia. Let's hasten our steps before some real damage is caused."

The Night king's minions were supposed to run amok amongst the citizens, causing mischief and then bleeding into the shadows when the Lunar King arrived with his queen. All of them were trained actors who knew just where to toe the line. Syryn was quite sure that Sebastian was exaggerating.

"I would have loved to play Night king but noo-ooo, I'm queen Cassiopeia. A goddamn queen! I get to wear a dress and prance around with-"

"S'ryn, why are ya bitchin'?" The mage asked with no small amount of amusement.

"Where's my sword? I demand my sword!"

"I got ya yer sword as well as yer bow. It's already in the carriage."

"And my quiver."

"Also in the carriage."

"And the kiss that you deprived me of! Where is it?!"

And here was the problem, the reason why Syryn was mad. Sebastian chuckled at his partner's childish display of a tantrum.

"Ya might get a good one tonight, S'ryn."

"What from you?" The teenager scoffed. "Limp kiss cold fish Sebastian."

"Wow yer desperate, huh?"

"And you've probably contracted every sexually transmitted disease known to the world," Syryn shot back.

"Oh. Oh. We're doing this? Okay. Did I kiss ya on your lips? Yes, I did. So now ya have whatever I have. Yer welcome!"

The alchemist cringed away from Sebastian. "You- you have a venereal disease?!"

"Fuck no! I'm clean ya annoying brat!" The mage made a disgusted expression. "Haven't ya heard of usin' sheaths? That's how ya protect yer twig and berries from the clutches of the crotch demons. Always wear em, Syryn. Never take chances if yer beddin' a stranger."

"But-"

"And don't kiss yer one night stands. That's another way ya get caught by the-"

"Crotch demons?" Syryn took offence to the term.

"Yep."

The cheers of a very large crowd of people caught Syryn's attention.

"I'm gettin' out first S'ryn. Wait fer me to open yer door and help ya down." It was showtime.

--

A few of the Night king's soldiers had waylaid a couple that was buying snacks from one of the numerous stalls opened up solely for the Lunar Festival. The tallest of the three figures dressed in black snatched a candied fruit from the woman's hand while another one pushed the hat off her husband's head. They surrounded the couple and refused to leave them alone.

"Lunar King!" The woman screamed and immediately, there was a shattering sound.

Every night soldier was fitted with a black painted glass plate over his heart. Syryn's blunted arrow found its mark over the soldier's heart and ended their short-lived career as a night soldier.

"S'ryn, where'd ya learn to shoot like that?" Sebastian was right next to him swinging his sword like a child.

There were shouts of "Lunar King" and "Queen Cassiopeia" as the duo moved through the parting crowd. Syryn's arrows had found two marks. The third one smartly ran off as soon as he noticed the Lunar couple.

"Natural talent," the alchemist replied. "Why aren't you doing anything? Do you intend to let me do all the work?"

The large and noisy crowd was milling around the Lunar couple, ready to follow and watch them take out the night soldiers.

"Yer doing great, love. Let your husband save his strength for the big bad Night king."

Happy screams from a few members of the audience alerted Sebastian to an ominous presence on the roof right above their heads. No sooner had he glanced up, the mage almost had his toes removed by an attack that dented the ground he had just stepped away from.

"Son of a bitch!" Sebastian cursed under his breath but he was grinning. Sights fixed on the Night King, he pulled Syryn close.

"I'll leave the foot soldiers to you, S'ryn. Don't get caught in the storm or you'll lose the veil." The mage pressed a quick peck to Syryn's forehead for the benefit of their audience, and he was off. Three clean leaps took the mage up to the roof where the cloaked figure waited for him.

Since the attack on Sebastian, the Night King had been staring in Syryn's direction. The teenager defiantly stared back. And when the dark figure finally turned away, it was only because he had to defend himself against Sebastian's assault.

A strong wind was beginning to blow and it caused Syryn's veil to flutter. The teenager put a good distance between himself and the localised storm that was whipping the air. Sebastian's usage of power surprised him because it was unprecedented for the kings to fight aggressively during the Lunar Festival. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

Syryn methodically cut through the night soldiers who were barely putting up any resistance. They shouldn't have given up so easily but the alchemist figured that just like himself, the night soldiers were eager to catch the rooftop battle. From how hard the storm was lashing and howling, there was no doubt that an interesting fight was about to take place. It prompted Syryn to guess the identity of the Night King. After all, there weren't a lot of people who could force Sebastian to summon a gale.

"Out of the way folks! I know you want to watch the show but you'll get blown away if you don't step back and put some distance!"

A lone night soldier was warning some of the more excitable members of the public. Nearly all of them had evacuated to a safer distance from where they could still watch the fight.

"Huh, Cassiopeia, about damn time," the loud night soldier turned to Syryn. It was a very familiar voice. "Smash this."

Syryn was out of arrows so he knocked on the brittle chest plate with the tip of his wooden bow. Right then, they both felt a blanket of power settle down like a heavy fog. The familiarity of the power brought an ache to Syryn's chest. He turned to the night soldier.

"Vincent."

"Yep. How have you been Syryn?" He deliberately refrained from asking the teenager about how he had come to be Cassiopeia.

"Good. That's Rowan isn't it?" Syryn tilted his head towards the roof from where the anti mage field was spreading out.

Vincent nodded to him. "None other. Let's head up there before they call it quits."

Elysium had never been subjected to a Lunar Festival where the revellers were forced onto the rooftops and balconies. To their credit, the festival-goers rolled with the change like ducks taking to the water. It was certainly more exciting than a rehash of fake play fighting scenes that thrilled only the children and the first-time attendees.

From his open vantage point, Syryn watched Sebastian flip gracefully between two roofs, very narrowly avoiding the shockwaves that landed on the houses. Someone was going to have to pay for all the property damage. It was a good thing then that both combatants were filthy rich.

"Why did Rowan come back?" Syryn asked Vincent.

The anti mage rubbed the back of his neck. "Eh. Rowan can answer that himself."

As he mulled over the anti mage's surprising return, Syryn belatedly realised he had been used by Sebastian to annoy the blond anti mage.

"What are you doing?" Vincent suspiciously asked the alchemist who had an arm raised and was channelling his magic.

"Making things interesting," the teenager replied. Sebastian's storm was a vicious thing that buffeted Rowan while the mage himself remained untouched by it in a bubble of safety around his body. The winds had carried off and destroyed the stalls that were within the storm.

Above the houses, Rowan was unable to go all out because if he did, the carnage would be ten times what was already happening. Brickwork rooftops were like paper to Rowan's shockwaves which were capable of obliterating even metal structures. The same could be said of Sebastian who was easily capable of knocking off the buildings they stood upon.

Syryn cheerfully frosted over all the rooftops in the vicinity with a thick sheet of ice. Almost immediately, Sebastian stepped on it and was just inches away from sliding beyond the edge of the roof. His agility saved the mage from a potentially nasty fall that would have hurt his pride more than his body.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping him? You're his wife."

"But I am," Syryn guilelessly said to the anti mage. "I'm helping him off the roof."

"I knew this festival was doomed the moment I heard you were Cassiopeia," Vincent mumbled. "It's like feeding oil into fire."

"You're holding me accountable for those two going nuts? Wasn't me who told them to measure their dicks on the rooftops. I'm not taking the blame for this." Syryn ripped off his veil and let it flutter down the side of the building.

"Yeah, it's not your fault, I suppose," Vincent said after a chuckle. The almost four-year separation from Syryn had Vincent expecting that Rowan's feelings would subside, if not disappear completely. He had been completely wrong on both counts. The blond anti mage was still holding a torch for the alchemist. "And hide your face, Syryn. You're still in the queen's attire."

"I'll stick with an illusion." The veil's gentle motion against his face had been annoying the teenager. He was glad to be rid of it after hours of tolerating the contact.

Satisfied at the pleasantly generic face looking back at him, Vincent turned back to watch the fight.

"Why did Sebastian decide to provoke Rowan?" He heard Syryn ask.

"Sebastian is always looking for a good fight. He's been going crazy doing nothing at Elysium. Is it any wonder then that he decided to pick a fight with Rowan?"

Syryn was offended by that. Wasn't he exciting company? Did Sebastian not want to fight him?

"Aren't you happy about Rowan's return?" Vincent glanced in his direction as if gauging Syryn's expression.

Syryn wasn't happy about it. For a while, he had been excited about his hero's homecoming, but now he dreaded it. The time was getting closer to when Rowan would have to perform the ceremony The one where Lillith would be chosen as Rowan's holy bride. The alchemist couldn't bear to even think about it. His mood had suddenly soured like curdled milk.

Syryn no longer wanted to be there.

"I'm leaving," he declared coldly. And before Vincent could stop him, the mage was plunging down the side of the building.