Walter Marwood shielded his eyes from the fierce rays of the sun as he stepped out of his inn.

It was hot outside. Much too hot for his liking.

His steps across the weathered, stone tiled road were lethargic, and he could already feel beads of sweat trickling down his back. If not for the views, he couldn’t imagine why anyone would choose to live in a place where the summer days grew this damn warm.

At the edge of the steep hill across from his inn, he paused and rested against the trunk of an old leafy tree. A fair breeze ruffled his clothes and the lazy drone of insects filled his ears alongside the garbled, distant shouts from the Solum District below.

It really is beautiful, he admired. Sprawling throughout the basin outside the city walls, the Armore lake glittered with brilliant sparks of joy. Small boats and masses of people were already gathered on its shores despite the early afternoon hour, and even though they were nothing more than small specks in his eyes — their exuberance was evident in how they scrambled about.

Walter gathered a deep breath, trying to steal as much of that blissful and refreshing feeling as he could.

It was something he found hard to come by these days… And he needed it now more than ever in order to placate the flames of anger that burned through his body with even more heat than the burning waves of light that filled the sky.

Landon—! The growl emerged from deep in his throat as he turned away. In just moments, the fleeting serenity was already scorched into ash and expelled from his mouth as his chest heaved. Its taste was dry and bitter and he knew it would not leave him no matter how much food or drink he drowned himself in.

Walter had never experienced such an intense, all-encompassing rage in his life, but even still, he forced himself to maintain a steady pace and tread back down the road.

His destination was the Ephrine Gardens, and it wasn’t far.

A multitude of estates and entertainment venues just like it littered the Caelum District and this one wasn’t anything special among the lot. In fact, it was regarded as one of the more sordid establishments — if a majority of what he’d heard during his past few days of investigating was believed to be true.

Most esteemed Magi wouldn’t be caught dead entering such a place, but Walter knew that with Landon’s salary, it was likely one of the only places he could regularly afford to seek pleasure…

Resentment continued to churn in his gut as he walked. He was wasting his time here. The summer harvest in his fief was only weeks away and he needed to be there casting spells to ensure the health of as much of the crop as he could.

Winter’s deathly chill still lingered in the bodies of many of his serfs. It had been one of the harshest in recent memory and it was important that they recover this year. Yet, here he was — strolling through the capital like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Walter abhorred himself for being unable to resist venting his fury, but after receiving Stroud’s letter, he’d been unable to focus his mind on anything else.

It's best to just be done with this quickly...

After passing a few blocks, the avenue he was on widened, opening up to a small park that surrounded a pond. Willow trees dipped their heads toward the water to sate their thirst while residents amused themselves by tossing oats and kernels to the family of ducks swimming around. People laughed and chatted and pleasant music drifted over from afar. But this time, Walter didn’t bother trying to enjoy the atmosphere. He knew now that it would only frustrate him more.

So instead, he beelined through the park and toward the source of the music. It originated from a large and airy building that bordered the pond’s northern edge.

How grandiose. The Ephrine Gardens was designed in the imperial style that was slowly taking root in all the northern vassal states. Carved wooden beams and lintels stained rich colors predominated and the whole establishment stretched in one sprawling, single floor centered around a large courtyard.

Walter released a portion of his aura barreled toward it and charged past the guards manning the open gate. Inside, he looked around at all the pretty young women dressed in tight uniforms and his simmering anger boiled. They scurried around carrying platters of fruit and drink to indulgent nobles and apprentices who no longer held any hope of becoming a Magi.

“Landon!” Walter bellowed as he stepped out into the courtyard. His aura surged uncontrollably as more sweat soaked into his silk shirt and dyed it a darker shade of green. He knew he looked like a crazed fool, but he cared little for the opinions of anyone present, and he intended to make sure that Landon would never be able to show his face here ever again.

“Landon! Get out here!” he called out again, his voice shaking the walls. Walter’s spiritual perception had covered the entire building as soon as he arrived, and he knew his steward’s presence well enough to recognize exactly where the man was. But even after his second shout had silenced all staff and patrons, Landon had yet to budge. “If I have to come to find you — I’ll tear this place apart and leave the bill on your head!”

That threat finally caused a stir. The few people accompanying Landon quietly exited through the building’s back door while the man himself stepped out into the open. His short blond hair was combed neatly to the side and his tidy, scholarly look completed the immaculate image of an upstanding Magus… But it was all ruined by the gloom that twisted the man’s features.

“Is all this really necessary, Walter?” Landon’s stiff question was carried across the empty courtyard by a cool wind. It swept through the colorful beds of flowers, seeming to drain the radiant vitality that they exuded until everything was withered and gray.

“Of course,” Baron Marwood retorted immediately. He glanced around mockingly at everyone who had frozen in place due to either astonishment or fear. “When I decided to visit — how could I miss taking a look at what you’ve been spending all of my money on over the years…”

Internally, Walter gloated at the obvious anger that flashed across Landon’s face. It wasn’t easy getting a reaction out of the other man. “I’m glad to see that you’ve been having fun… lounging about all day in a den of the lascivious and talentless—”

“That’s enough!” Landon snapped as their auras clashed. “I know why you’re here, so why don’t we handle this in private.”

“Fine,” Walter grunted. He hadn't intended to find issue with any others, but his enmity was simply overflowing.

A hushed chorus of whispers followed them back into the room in the western corner that Landon had previously occupied. It disappeared as the door slid shut behind Walter, but in mere moments, the elegant strum of the harp resumed to fill the empty air.

“Go on,” Landon stated blandly. The steward had already begun pushing the table and chairs toward the edges of the room.

Walter observed the process, unamused. “With what? Are you expecting a beating of some sort?”

Landon stopped his movements. He straightened himself up and smoothed out his brocade vest. “Isn’t it obvious. Why else would you travel all the way here other than to vent?”

That much was true, but instead of lashing out like the man had been expecting, Walter only sighed. He'd seen what he feared most. The dull, lifeless glaze over Landon’s eyes had taken all of the fight out of him.

In his heart, he knew a large part of the reason he came in person was that he hoped for an all-out argument. He wanted them both to lay their feelings bare because he believed that there was still a chance to reconcile.

Instead, all he saw in his friend was apathy.

Where was the passionate young apprentice that dreamed of visiting the imperial archives and traveling through the historical battle sites of Eleuthine’s Rebellion?

Where was the recently advanced Magus who had claimed that—together—they would build the most prosperous fief in the reaches?

Growing up, Walter had always been following Landon’s lead. Every time he sat down to study… every night he cultivated his aedetari method… wasn’t that all because of his friend’s encouragement?

The man before him now held none of that desire — that spark. And when Walter realized that, he knew his anger wouldn’t be worth anything. Landon wouldn’t fight back because he didn’t care. He didn’t care about their past or their present relationship. The man cared only for himself.

Even still, he couldn’t help but ask, “...Why? I just want to know why? When was there ever something that couldn’t be discussed between us?

Landon too heaved a sigh. “It's because we’ve discussed so many things that I already know how it would have gone. You would never have agreed to send Maeve to Frostrane.”

“You’re right, I would never agree to put someone I care about in harm’s way.” Baron Marwood glared down at his former steward.

“But that’s lunacy, Walter!” Landon retorted, shaking his head. “Not joining Lady Adelais’ side is the same as declaring your allegiance to one of the prince’s. It doesn’t even matter which one — they’re all her enemies…”

“I have no desire to take part in this conflict at all. It is our enemies outside the border we must worry about,” Walter defended. He knew that this was a foolish thing to say, but the more hard-headed he was — the more it would rile Landon up. And though he no longer desired to mend their relationship, Landon had always been clever and his insight into the conflict was still valuable.

He had to come out of this trip with something…

Sure enough, emotion crept back into Landon’s voice. “There’s no escaping it. You don’t have the means to do so. King Mylon will be dead before the year is out, mark my words. And when war comes, people like us are only tools to be used by those with more power!”

Walter folded his arms. “If that’s what you truly think, then I can confidently say that you’re the one who’s a fool.”

“Gah—!” Landon’s glare brimmed with rage as he breathed heavily. He pointed an accusatory finger as he cried out: “You didn’t even know what was going on until likely a few weeks ago! And what you think you know now is only the beginning...”

“Then tell me, damnit,” Walter barked. “Isn’t that your job!”

“My job... was to act in the best interest of the Marwood family. I gathered information about the conflict and determined that Lady Adelais has the best chance of unifying Redenia out of all the potential candidates. That is what is most important. Because should one of the princes emerge victorious... Redenia will be wiped off the map in a few years at the latest. The royal family’s heirs are still too young or too weak. If this task had been left to you, Walter—the always indecisive—nothing would be done until the enemies were at our doorstep. So, I was forced to make the decision. Like I always have been…”

“Who wins the throne has nothing to do with the Marwood's longevity. It may benefit our status to choose the right side, but ultimately, we live on through our blood. So when did it become in the Marwood’s best interest to sacrifice our heirs as political hostages? Maeve is the family’s future, not me — and especially not you…” Landon looked like he wanted to retort, but Walter silenced him with a wave of his aura.

“Benefits mean nothing if we must sacrifice our character. My father always told the both of us: As Magi, we have been blessed, and we have the responsibility to enrich the lives of everyone around us that is not as fortunate. Wasn’t that the goal of the first council of the Eleuthine — to empower the weak and the suppressed and bring everyone to a higher standard of living? We are only where we are today thanks to the Nenean Accords established through their efforts. I thought you aspired to those ideals, Landon...”

“We can’t help anyone if we are dead…” Landon muttered. The man turned away.

“But neither can we do so if we don’t even try.” Walter pushed back.

Defeated, Landon slumped down into a chair. “...We are only two men, Walter. Two insignificant men in a vast world filled with countless beings more powerful than us. What we do or say means so little.”

“I can’t argue with that. We have approached the limits of our potential, so why work so hard to prolong our lives? Shouldn’t we instead ensure the well-being and safety of those who can make an impact in the future? Maeve is much more talented than either of us. She is bright and kind, and she cares for others. She has the desire and the means to achieve what we can’t… But maybe she will be brought down before she reaches those heights, regardless... because she has one glaring flaw that she shares with me…”

The Ephrine gardens quaked as the anger that Walter thought he had displaced returned in a magnificent blaze.

His voice shivered. “She and I both trust too readily... and too wholeheartedly.”

Walter stared intently at Landon’s shrunken back as the man stood back up and left the room. He didn’t chase him, nor did he have any desire to do so.

They were strangers now, and they would each have to find their own way forward.