Art sat with Lands Lord in the library as the lizardkin continued to study through his stack of books curated for him. He set aside a history book that covered the 100 years before in general details, before picking up a new volume that specifically talked of the same time period in the region of Eltar.

‟Lae Artria. Lae Artria!?”

Art snapped out of her daze to Lands Lord's call. ‟Yes?”

The lizardkin asked, ‟The book saysss the title of Lord Light isss held by the leader of The Forum. But I've not read any recent newsss from there in regardsss to him.”

The knight seemed to have become somewhat of a tutor to the lizardkin during her stay in the library. ‟He died last year,” she answered. ‟There was an uprising, and some conflicts with the dark elves. We are still trying to uncover everything that happened. Simply put however, the country is undergoing a rolling change in their governance.”

‟I sssee...” Lands Lord hissed, before returning to his studies.

Art's eyes wandered to The Watcher, who had somehow climbed atop one of the bookshelves and was lying flat across his back, an opened book covering his face.

Outside of sleeping and eating, The Watcher had not moved from his stay in the library during the two days Art had been watching him. Only during the night was she inside the library itself on the guise of watching Lands Lord, though following the man in the day was not difficult, as he had a tendency to move bombastically. The man seemed incapable of walking normally without an audience. She had not had the same amount of luck with the two Guardblades, Lua and Joachim. They had seemingly disappeared off the map since she last spoke with them.

Thinking of the devils, the door to the library opened, and the two young adults walked in, no different from the last time Art saw them.

‟Watcher!” Lua called out, before her eyes settled on Art and Lands Lord. ‟Oh, Lae Art, I did not know you were here. And...” After her gaze zeroed in on Lands Lord, she walked towards them with an expression of excitement, while Joachim circled away towards the shelf The Watcher was sleeping on.

‟Greetingsss. I do not believe we've met. I am Landsss Lord of a lizardkin tribe.”

Lua's eyes lit up in fascination. ‟Really? I though your kind went extinct! Does that mean there are more of you? What am I talking about. Of course there are. Does that mean your people want to rejoin the world? Is that why you're here? Are you a diplomat? By the way, my name is Lua Ornitter, that person over there...”

As she trailed off in her excitement, Lands Lord could not help but break into a grin.

He noted, ‟If only more people were like you, reintegration would likely be a sssimple thing.”

Lua stopped babbling and her face turned pensive with a gentle smile. ‟I have a friend who had a family member commit an atrocious crime. But he is now one of the world's most ardent defenders. We are not responsible for those that came before, only for our own actions.”

Lands Lord looked over to Art as Lua said that, and the knight found herself unable to hold his gaze, looking away after a second.

‟Lua!” The Watcher's voice caught them and turned their attentions around. ‟Joachim said you've found the place?”

The girl stood back to height and walked over. ‟Yes. Do you want to wait for morning before going?”

‟No, let's get there while the iron's hot.”

Art voiced, ‟Where are you three going?”

Watcher looked to her and smiled. ‟A good restaurant. I've been asking them to find one since we got here.”

He was lying. ‟Is that right?” Art answered despite it.

As the Aleynonlian trio made their way to the door, The Watcher asked, ‟Will you still be here in a few hours? We could buy some food back for you.”

Lands Lord replied, ‟No thank you. I do not think we're allowed to eat in here.”

The Watcher laughed understandingly before bidding farewell and leaving the library with his two companions. It took a few minutes after they left before Art stood up to follow them.

Lands immediately asked, ‟Do you need my help?”

‟With what? I'm simply turning in for the night,” she lied.

‟Isss that right? Very well then, good night.” He answered despite it.

She was not sure if the lizardkin knew what she was up to, or would he even talk about this to anyone. But without any proof, it was a hollow claim.

She left him to his devices and exited the library, not forgetting to greet the prison guards standing outside waiting for the lizard. However, instead of heading down to the knight's bunk and her room, she went up the stairs of the keep.

On the walls, the aviary was quiet at night. With the birds asleep and the falconer turned in for the day, no flap of wings broke the whistle of wind. She looked over the parapet into the courtyard and waited. It was not long before she saw the three figures of The Watcher, Lua, and Joachim, approaching the gate.

Art stepped up and climbed onto the wall. She raised her right hand out before her and above her head, palms facing downwards. In a flash of light, she summoned her 2 meter tall great sword, the blade clanking against the stone wall she stood atop as it gained its weight. She grabbed onto the sword with both hands before the heavy weapon could tilt and fall.

Gripping the handle, she turned both closed fists together like a throttle. The blade of her sword jumped opened, expending all the way down just before the tip, blooming into a straight board of 2 silver petals like a flower. The handle now extended from the pommel down the fuller - the main body of the sword. A mechanism in the petal boards whirled, and the board slid clockwise into each other and joined into a long platform. The point of the blade opened perpendicularly to the board and folded itself to lock the new shape of a sailboard in place.

With the platform stable, Art stepped on, holding onto the pole in the middle that the handle had become. She held onto the cross of the handguard and pressed down. The pole split opened as it lowered, separating from the handle. From within, a thin reflective cloth unfurled from guard down to base. Despite there being little wind, the sail seemingly made of weaves of firefly light caught onto something in the air and took shape and expanded to twice her body. The sailboard transformation was now complete.

Art held onto what was once the handle of the sword, protruding out of the pole of the sail diagonally like a tiller. She leaned across the parapet, and the sail and board tilted with her as she fell off the walls.

The light sail caught something and glowed to life, converting its light energy into kinetic force that was propelling through exhausts on the bottom of the board. She pulled the handle, and the board banked up, lifting into the air as she flew into the sky.

In the morning with the gleam of daylight, the board could move quickly and be powered almost infinitely. But in the dark, it merely glided through the air, powered by hers and the swords' own magic charge and whatever residue light it could absorb in its sail.

Such transportation utility is just one of three forms that her legendary weapon provided.

Ex Machina: Crux, Tower of Guiding Light

Lands Lord was now the only one left in the library. Without the ambient noise from others present, he was beginning to feel the edge of sleep knocking on the door of his mind. Perhaps he would call it a night, though he wanted to at least get through a collection of news articles he had collated first.

He had followed a thread of information from Eltar about how the now presumed extinct dark elves had smuggled a large amount of magic crystals between them and the north eastern continent of Devara. From there, there was an almost overlooked column in a recent newspaper on slavers being active during the time period of The Janus's escapades. His primordial instinct were telling him those events were link, though he was unsure why, or even how.

With a yawn, he stretched back in his seat. Perhaps he was truly just tired, and was chasing ghosts. He closed the books and folded the papers, deciding to call it a night on his research.

Then, the door to the library opened, and at first, Lands Lord thought it would be The Watcher or one of the young ones. Or perhaps even the guards asking for him to leave.

Instead, in walked a man he had not seen before, dressed in the velveteen frills he recognised from pictures of The Council's dress code.

The golden hair man greeted. ‟You must be the lizardkin, Lands Lord. I'm surprised you are actually here.”

Lands stood up warily, his tongue licking the air and tasting the scented musk of overbearing flowers the man padded himself in.

‟I am Coun Taliesin,” the man introduced. ‟I understand you're looking to reintegrate your tribe with our society.”

Lands Lord hissed. ‟I have already made arrangementsss with the queen.”

The coun smiled. ‟I know. But perhaps I can interest you in another deal that would be far more beneficial to both of us, and more likely to succeed.”