The chatter was incessant, and Orenda could not bear it, so she marched her way to Quiroris’s office and meant to bang heavily upon the door, but two guards were standing outside of it. This shocked her so badly that she didn’t see it as any sort of impediment, that her mind elected to ignore their presence completely, and she was confused when she tried to walk between them and they pushed her back.

She was even more confused when they exchanged glances and grabbed her.

“Have you gone mad?” Orenda asked.

“You need to go to your room,” one of the soldiers said in a voice filled with a kind of hate Orenda had never heard from an adult directed toward a teenager, “And stay there until we come for you.”

“Felaern!” Orenda yelled at the closed door, “I know you’re in there, I can feel your magic signature!”

“I’ll take care of it!” He yelled, and Orenda picked up the hidden fear in his voice.

“Felaern!” Orenda yelled, “What’s going on?”

“Bring her in! Let’s be done with it!” The voice was deep and undeniably feminine.

One of the guards opened the door, and with his partner they handed Orenda to a second set of guards positioned just on the other side. It seemed excessive to Orenda, but the interior of the office drew her attention so that she had to take in too much at once, too much sensory input, too much to process.

Ali was there! Ali was there, in the flesh, kneeling on the hardwood floor in a group of other boys, all wearing collars and jewels and looking at the ground with his head bowed, just as they all did. His hands, as they all were, were folded neatly on his knees, and so much of his flesh was exposed that it made something in Orenda snap. His muscles were toned and his skin was clean, but his face was sunken, his eyes were huge and she imagined that the makeup was to make him look healthier than he was. His eyes darted to her for only a fraction of a second, and she saw the red where there should be white.

She knew what had happened to him. Part of her had always known, but looking at him, at all of him, in the flesh and not hidden by flames brought it all to the surface. Seeing him threw her into a rage, but he shook his head, and she tried to control her breathing, tried to control the temperature in the room.

Tolith sat on the window seat surrounded by plants holding a staff that Orenda recognized as the same one she had seen his father use on the platform. He was staring at it without seeing it. His eyes wouldn’t focus on anything, and Orenda suspected that he wasn’t with them right now.

Quiroris stood in front of his desk, at his full height, looking as intimidating as Orenda had ever seen him, with most of his teachers behind him, staring at Orenda as if he was about to fly into a rage. Before him stood a woman who looked almost exactly like Xadra did in her coins, posters, illustrations and the like. Her long blond hair had been partially pulled up into a bun, and her dress was the most beautiful that Orenda had ever seen. This woman reminded her of a ghoul in her etherealness. Her hair seemed to move, even in the stillness of the room, and reminded Orenda of whiskers, reaching out, trying to feel for something.

“Orenda,” Quiroris said, “This is Lady Glenlen. The leader of the colony, cousin to our great empress.”

“It is an honor to meet you, my grace,” Orenda said politely.

“She looks just like him,” Lady Glenlen said.

“We’ve never seen his face,” Quiroris argued, “Orenda has nothing to do with Captain Nochdifache.”

Tolith burst into tears.

“Your son is crying,” Orenda told Lady Glenlen, and the woman narrowed her eyes at her.

“I’m sorry,” Tolith said, “Rendy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know, I…”

“He has a delicate constitution,” Lady Glenlen told Quiroris, “I don’t think it would do him well to finish his studies here. It’s simply too dangerous.”

“No!” Tolith shrieked, “Mother, please! Please! I want to stay! I’ll graduate in four years! That’s nothing! Please!”

“He’s hysterical,” She spoke over him, calmly, as if she was used to ignoring him.

He stood, ran to the guards, and pried Orenda away from them, moving much more quickly than Orenda would have ever thought him capable. He had shocked her many times tonight.

“Rendy,” he whispered, “We have to go. We have to escape. They think you’re a pirate. They’re gonna kill you.” He cupped her face as she looked down at him in disgust. “But don’t worry. I’m gonna save you, and we’re gonna escape. Everything is gonna be ok.”

“Has everyone gone mad?” Orenda asked loudly.

“Grief can cause emotions to run high,” Quiroris held out his hands in an ‘everyone calm down’ gesture, “But I know that we can work something out. Lady Glenlen, I reiterate my earlier reluctance to allow you to charge my student on familial grounds when no familial link has been established.”

“What am I being accused of?” Orenda asked.

“Be quiet, Orenda,” Quiroris instructed, “I’ll handle it.”

“This is obviously the child of Nochdifache,” Lady Glenlen said, “They have the same name, the same build, the same hair, the same element-”

“None of that proves a familial link,” Quiroris argued, “We have no documentation that they share a drop of blood. I have raised this child myself for nearly five years. I ask that you trust my judgement. Orenda has never thought of treason! She’s a good student. She’s a productive member of society. She’s made friends and connections here. You’re making a mistake based on little more than her element. I implore you to reconsider.”

“You’re being played, Felaern,” Lady Glenlen said coldly, “You’re losing your grip in your old age. Where do you think she got that name, if not from her father?”

“At the workhouse,” Quiroris said, “Which is where she was before I took her in. She was dropped off there as an infant; I did my due diligence. She was named ‘Nochidfache’ because it was the only name the owner knew for a fire elf! Her first name was the same way, Orenda Firefist is one of the few names that anyone remembers! And we both remember Orenda Firefist!”

He said this as if it had some great meaning, something that Orenda did not understand, but thought had to do with the war. Lady Glenlen had been ruling the colony since it was established, since the fire elves were overthrown.

“I can’t lose this child, Urriceia,” he said quietly, leaning in, “I can’t. I’ll take full responsibility. Let me have this. I know you’re upset. I understand. But let me have this. I’ve been a loyal servant for two centuries. Let me have this.”

The room was silent for a long time.

“You take full responsibility?” Lady Glenlen eventually asked.

“Yes,” Quiroris said, instantly, “Yes, for everything. She’s a child.”

“When this all blows up in your face, Felaern, I’ll have you in for treason. You’ll go before Xandra. You’ll go before the Emerald Knight.”

“I understand,” he said, “I’ll consent to it right now.”

“She is to be kept under lock and key,” Lady Glenlen said, “I don’t want her wandering my streets. She’s always to have an escort, any time she leaves the grounds.”

“Yes,” Quiroris nodded.

“You secure a position for her somewhere in the outlands, when she graduates,” Lady Glenlen went on, “I don’t want her near my home, near my son.”

“Yes,” Quiroris nodded again.

“Tolith will not be returning,” She turned and walked to him, pried him away from Orenda, and he began to cry again, in mourning, in frustration, in an impotent rage. “This is too much for him. I should have never given in. I thought that it would be safer if we were apart, but now I see that I need to keep him by my side, to protect him.”

“Mother, please,” he begged, “I want to finish! I want to go to school! I don’t want to leave.”

“Tolith,” She said like a woman who was running out of patience, “I understand that it is difficult for teenagers to control their emotions, but it has been a very trying night and I will not be expected to put up with fits.”

“I’m not having a fit!” he screamed like someone having a fit, “I’m not an emotional teenager angsting out! My father is dead! Because he left his post, because he wanted to make up with you, and you put him to work! Let go of me! I have a right to feel like this!”

Orenda was standing far too close to this family with far too little stake in the complete nervous breakdown that she sensed was about to happen in front of her, and began to slowly back away in the direction of Quiroris’s desk. She kept glancing to Ali, but he was staring at the floor once again in formation with the rest of his group. Orenda wondered why the hell Lady Glenlen had brought her pleasure slaves to pick up her son, and focused on them rather than the fight that had broken out between Tolith and his mother.

“Tiarus put in the request himself,” Lady Glenlen hissed at a volume that she seemed to believe no one could hear, “I am not responsible for his foolishness. He’s still technically Commander of the outlands so congratulations, Tolith, you are a Viscount. I will not have you blame me for his death.”

“I’m not going home!” Tolith shouted, “I’m not going back with you.”

Orenda noticed that everyone was trying as hard as she was to pretend that this fight was not happening. She watched the motionless group of human men, and thought that perhaps they were meant to function as bodyguards. They all looked much stronger than a normal human, and she remembered that Ali had told her that they ‘worked out all the time’. She wished desperately that she could speak to him.

Lady Glenlen put a hand on either side of Tolith’s head and he let out a shriek as the numerous jewels that she wore, in her ears, on her fingers, and around her neck began to glow. She wasn’t physically strong enough to hold him, but his eyes began to glaze over.

“No!” he tried to pull away, but Orenda watched as his muscles relaxed and became useless. His eyes fluttered closed, his breathing slowed, and he could not resist as his mother gently guided him to the floor. He laid there, paralyzed, as Quiroris threw a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in alarm, and Orenda thought of how Lady Glenlen wasn’t supposed to do that. She had used a paralysis spell, a powerful earth spell, against her own child.

“You will keep me updated, Felaern,” She said sternly as she stood, “send word at least once a week. Use the individual progress reports.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said, sounding genuinely confused.

“You don’t remember how to write an individual progress report?” She sounded annoyed.

“The last time I wrote an IPR,” Felaern knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, “it was right after the war, for military prisoners.”

“Yes,” she said, and with a motion of her hand everyone in Ali’s group sprang to their feet. They moved like a military unit, and two of them picked Tolith up, holding him firmly but comfortably.

“Oh,” Felaern said.

“I look forward to it,” She said with her back turned, “I’ll show myself out, Felaern.”

“Yes, mam.” He said, and he clicked his heels together, stood up to his full height, held one arm in the small of his back and fisted the other over his heart. She did not see him bow, and when she had gone, he seemed confused to find himself in the stance he had taken.

“Well,” He said to the group, “that’s conditioned deeply, isn’t it?”