Stunned into inaction I read the notification over and over. Elemental Guardians? What did that mean? And the Guardian of Water has been the crystal whale? Well, it was as big as the frigate had been, but I thought that to be the normal size of a whale. That showed how little I knew about the ocean.

I had to study the unlocked Skill to gather more information, but for now, I had to get down this tree. With less haste and more control, I finished the last stretch of the way, joining the hunters as they gathered around the massive tree trunk.

We spoke briefly about what I had seen, then made for the coast again. The [Hunters] had a better understanding of the information gathered today because they knew what signs they were looking for in the forest, but I knew enough as well.

If I wanted to claim this land for my own, I had to fight for it. Nothing came for free in this world, and least of all peace, freedom, and the right to rule.

But the system somewhat had accepted my claim to the Shattered Sea. Samson, the little, smiling, and empathic boy, had soothed and befriended a beast that was the embodiment of the element of water in the Shattered Sea. I could not quite place the significance of that. Were these Elemental Guardians themselves divine beasts? Or just animals which through the exposure to the Wyld and the Dragon of Life had attuned to their elements. Or had they stumbled upon the so-called Elemental Keys and turned into the beasts they were today?

Once again, the lack of knowledge darkened my mood, as I was confronted with mysteries and wonders beyond any mortal understanding.

My plans did not change. In the spring we would cross the bay and begin building the settlement. We would need higher walls, though. I hoped Thimotheus would be able to convince a [Magus] to come with him, who was trained in the art of manipulating stone. Or I would look for something like that. I would make sure we were ready for the dangers awaiting us.

I could not help but think about the two missing Guardians, Stone and Fire. I had the hunch of one being in the Broken Lands or the mountains we just had seen that still had no name, and the element of stone would make sense there, but nothing I had seen indicated an affinity to the element of fire. I would not even hazard a guess as to where one would start to look for such a thing.

As we sat on the boat and rowed out to the sea, I finally set out on a task I had delayed far too long.

I activated [Unchained Ancestors] and searched in my mind for the connection with the Regicide. I felt his cold contempt touching my mind almost instantly. I had made the connection before and repeating it seemed to be easier than forming a new one.

”I would set your men free.“ I spoke in my mind. ”We are on open waters, nothing around that would be endangered by raging souls. Your imprisonment is over - if you wish it to be.“

Nothing happened for a good, long while. But I felt the cold mind touching mine work in silence.

”No.“ The Betrayer finally said somewhat soberly, without the usual rage and hate. ”You held your word. We can see the door we could go through. But there is nothing beyond the gate.“

”I have not made a secret out of the demise of our gods. They have perished. As is the entity you made a pact within the depths of the silent city.“

”There is no salvation. After all...there is nothing for the knights and lay-brothers of the Avalanche but darkness and endless rage in the depths of the ocean. If they are not snatched away by foreign gods and dark scavengers. No. I will not do it.“

Now it was my turn to get red hot with anger as I yelled in my mind. ”Is there no way for me to right my wrongs? I take you in and it is wrong. I want to let you go and it is even worse. What would you have me do? I want to make it right by your men, but what I try is doomed to fail, it seems.“

Silence. Then: “You are a Raven-spawn that held his word. That is more than I would have expected. You have not touched a single soul imprisoned by you. I cannot accept your guilt any longer. Down in the Abyss or on the surface of the ocean...there would have been no difference. The gods are dead and no afterlife awaits the cursed Avalanche.“ Every word sounded as if spoken through gritted teeth or pulled out by force. As if there were two hearts in his breast, the need to ask for help fighting his hatred for dominance.

“What then, Regicide? What then?“

“I owe you a story. I gave my word, and I might hate you, but my word is and always has been good.“

“That you do.“ I agreed silently. “But what of the souls of your men?“

Now I could feel a part of his anguish through the connection we had. He was a bitter man, a cold man, and angrier than he had the right to be, but there was one thing, one thing only he cared about. The fate of the men who gave their life, branded as traitors, to his cause. And there was guilt there because they died for his selfishness.

“I am out of options.“ The Regicide said bitterly. “Take them. But not in the prison, take them as you have taken the others. Give them peace. They are innocent. Brave and loyal defenders of Ravenrock. It is a travesty of history that they were branded traitor, where I alone should have carried that burden. Take them with the others and I will help you in turn.“

“Tell me your story. Swear on your word and the souls of your men that you speak the truth and I will do as you ask, if I judge them innocent as well.“

And instead of using words, I got pulled into his mind, reliving the memories as if I had been there myself.

“The Wyldlings have been driven back, my King!“ I said with a voice not my own, kneeling in front of the throne of Ravenrock, my helm in my hands, carved like a raven's head. The voice was young, so much younger, without the hatred and seething rage, but raspy still, used to anger and loud shouting. And there was an arrogance in the voice, even addressing the king, that spoke of a man that saw no one as his equal.

I swiped the strain of raven-black hair, that had fallen into my face as I had bowed, back and looked up, looking straight at the king. He was my mirror image. I knew it without even knowing how I looked. My twin. Slim, wiry build, sharp features, a regal nose, and the attitude of a man with no equal. There never had been love between us, only competition. But now there where dark lines under the eyes of the king, and a haunted look in his eyes, quickly turning to rage.

“Driven back?“ He roared. “I had ordered you to take them captive and you dare to come before me with failure? You dare defy your king?“

He was 12 minutes older than me. 12 minutes that meant the world. 12 minutes that doomed the kingdom to be ruled by an arrogant, delusional, incompetent sack of...

“You should consider sending something other than heavy knights on foot after your nimble foes if you hope to catch them retreating...my king.“ My voice had grown cold, but the last words, spat and sneered, were bordering on insubordination. But I was not just a Lord Commander of the Ravenguard. I was the twin-brother of the king, and our relationship was...well-known.

So the lackeys and boot-lickers in the hall looked shocked but dared not speak a word as their betters were fighting.

I was the best [Swordmaster] in the Kingdom after all. Who would try to stop me? I was the king‘s guard.

I hated this place. Every stone and every face a monument of the fact that my brother was the king and I his glorified watch-dog. My steps, longer and faster than anyone's, a habit I had gotten used to for throwing the insufferable fools of the administration off, who tried to keep up with me just to bore me to death with the details of their pointless responsibilities. I enjoyed them huffing and puffing along as they tried to match my steps.

I entered the chapel. I was a man of...not even in memory I could bring the name of a dead god over my lips, even if they were not my own. I had been given to the church as a boy, so as to never challenge the right to rule or bear children. May you rot in the Evercold Hells, father. The chaplain was gone, instead there sat the insufferable brat that would one day inherit the kingdom from his father. Crying, as always.

“Where is the chaplain?“ I asked impatiently.

“Uncle Leon!“ The boy sniffed through his snotty nose, trying to bring order to his...situation. “The chaplain is gone. I...I have a new tutor. And the new tutor is mean and...he would hit me, but was not allowed, so they brought in Fredegar from the stables, and I had to watch as my friend got beaten bloody and I ran here...“

I held up my hand to stop the outburst happening in front of me. I did not care for hearing the woes of children. Slowly, I repeated with more emphasis and more sternly. ”Where is the chaplain?“

”I don‘t know, uncle! I swear. Father said he had to go away.“

I turned on the spot and went for the dungeon, the only place in the castle he could be if he had not been sent away. I just wanted to make sure. The chaplain was the only man in the kingdom, no in the Empire, I had respect for. The man had raised me, where my father had failed.

“No one is allowed in...“ The burly man with the leather cap at the entrance of the halls of cells began to speak, but I punched his nose in with the pommel of my sword and just went by, as he fell back, trying to hold in his gurgling blood.

“What did they do to you.“ I whispered as I saw the broken body of the chaplain, bound to the wall of the dungeon.

He opened his blood-crusted eyes wide up, staring into the darkness without comprehension, not being able to find my face between the prison bars.

“Leon? Is that you?“

“It is, chaplain. What happened?“

“I...I don‘t know! I went to the chapel like any other day and...“

The memory broke up and I was back in the boat, watching the dancing waves around us as we crossed the bay.

“Our time is up.“ The Regicide...Leon Raven...said in my head and vanished. I had to wait for my Skill to recharge before I could use it again. But I had a lot to think about already.

I made Kingsbane appear in my hand, watching the blade that had taken the head of a man I had not known...until now. I had seen the man, about to die. I had felt as the murderer had felt. There was no righteousness to find, not yet. Just cold anger and distaste for his brother. And the good reason that had been brought up before...it had to have to do with the new tutor for the young prince and the demise of the chaplain of the dead gods.

Oh, how I hated to have to wait for the conclusion of the story! Stories never should be told in increments spread out over days, that was just torture for the interested listener.