Caelius recognized his brother's raven hair and regal posture which was accentuated by his burnished silver armour and a flowing red cape. He also recognized the expression on his brother's face and how it made the guards shrivel beneath his gaze. The same look he would use on Caelius to evoke a sense of guilt and shame after committing a wrongdoing. A look the boy had always resented because of how often it worked.

"M-My Prince?" the older guard stuttered.

A clanging noise struck the stone floor from where the younger guard dropped the knife. The older guard turned to his junior to see him kneeling on the ground, bowing. He frowned at first but eventually the older man slowly followed suit and went to his knees as well.

"What are you doing here? My Prince?" the older guard asked, facing the Paravellan prince with eyes that held an unspoken challenge.

But the prince's cold glare never wavered, forcing the older guard to avert his gaze and hang his head.

"I think it is I who should be asking you that same question." Camren spoke with a gentle voice like a parent exercising patience with a child. "But I hesitate to ask for I think I would fear the answer."

"W-w-we were just...I wasn't...We..." The younger guard continued his blubberings until it gradually dissipated.

The intense silence that followed lingered in the air until Camren took a deep breath and exhaled it out.

"...Leave," the prince ordered.

The guards looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I said leave," Camren repeated himself.

Despite the command, the guards still remained hesitant and unsure of what to do.

"LEAVE!"

With that, the guards were suddenly jolted into movement and stood up from the ground.

"Before I change my mind," added the prince while the younger guard scurried past him and left the lantern behind on the ground. The senior guard, on the other hand, stood where he was and refused to move.

The prince took note of this. "Guard?"

"Why?" the older guard mumbled.

"I told you to leave," said the prince with a slightly raised voice.

"Why will you not kill it?"

"I will not repeat myself, guard."

"Why will you not let me kill it? Why is it still alive? Are you not-"

"BECAUSE SHE'S JUST A CHILD!"

Caelius had rarely ever witnessed an outburst like that from his brother. The prince had always donned a serene persona of authority and wisdom in the eyes of the public. So much so, rumours and jokes had spread throughout the empire of the prince that always smiled or the prince with no rage in his heart. Of course, that wasn't true and only those closest to him were familiar with his scathing silences and searing eyes. One day, Caelius vowed to conquer that look of judgment from his older brother.

But for the prince to shout down at a lowly guard like this felt like an unprecedented occurrence to Caelius. Why was his brother so angry?

Camren continued to glare at the guard as he spoke. "It disappoints me to no end that I would have to explain that fact to one of my own subjects."

The older guard dropped his head even lower than it already was. "Have you heard what they did?" asked the guard, his voice breaking as he continued. "Do you know what those monsters did to that village?"

Caelius' brother offered the courtesy of replying in a gentle voice, "Yes."

"My brother was in that village. Him and his family. His wife. His three children."

Camren didn't respond straight away. He looked down with a furrowed brow, as though he were searching for the right things to say. "I...am sorry for your loss."

"If you were truly sorry..." The guard turned around and stabbed a finger at the little war elf, "you'd let me kill that thing."

The prince shifted his gaze to the elf girl crouching on all fours like an animal. She contributed a savage snarl to their conversation after realizing they were both staring at her.

Camren shook his head. "I can't let you do that."

In response, the guard hung his head while he slowly placed his hand behind his back. "I thought so."

He then suddenly whipped around and raised a knife above the elfling.

But before he was able to bring the knife down, the guard was halted by a sword edge placed beneath his chin. The old man glanced beside him to see the prince wielding the blade pressed to his throat.

"Would you really kill a fellow human before killing a war elf?" the guard asked with a sneer.

"I'd rather not kill at all," answered the prince. "But I would rather see you with a cut throat then see you murder a child."

"It's not a child."

"No?"

Camren gazed down at the elf girl, prompting the guard to do the same. They both watched the little war elf manoeuvre herself into a crouching position while still keeping a wary eye on her captors. Despite the feral hissing through her fangs, Caelius could see the confusion and fear clearly painted on her face.

"If you wish to kill her," said the prince, "I will let you."

The guard shared the same look of surprise that Caelius did in his shadowy corner.

"But under one condition." Camren lowered his blade. "You look her in the eyes when you take her life."

In reaction to the words, the guard glanced back down at the war elf as the prince continued to speak.

"Because the type of people that would kill this little girl are the same type of people that slaughtered your brother's children."

The old man looked between the helpless elfling and the knife in his hand. Caelius could see the conflicting expressions straining the guard's face while he contemplated what to do next.

Eventually, he lowered his knife.

He continued to stand there, staring down at the sworn enemy of his empire. 'What was he thinking?' Caelius thought to himself. 'Was he not going to kill her? Why not?'

Then he turned away from the elf girl and started heading for the exit. Camren stood there frozen as the guard walked straight past him. It wasn't until the guard reached the cell gate when the prince spoke up.

"Thank you."

The guard stopped at the entrance. "I'd be careful if I were you, my Prince. There are many more people out there who share my way of thinking. And they will do anything to end this war."

With those words, the guard left the cell. Seemingly alone with the savage war elf, the prince looked down at the little prisoner as he softly whispered to himself.

"I will also do anything to end this war."

As if in response, the elf girl snarled back and snapped her jaws up at him. Unperturbed, Camren then knelt down until his face was leveled with hers which prompted the elfling to jerk back in surprise.

"What about you?" the prince asked in her native tongue.

The elfling raised her brow in shock. So did Caelius who struggled to speak the war elf's language. But he understood enough of it to comprehend the following conversation.

"Would you like to see an end to this war?" Camren asked. "Between our two kinds."

She didn't respond at first. Eventually, the elf girl looked up to face the prince and offered him a smile full of sharp fangs.

"Yes," replied the war elf, "With human blood staining the dirt under your precious empire."

Camren only snickered at the threat which elicited an offended frown from the elfling.

"That's one way to do it," said the prince with a smile.

"It is the only way," replied the elfling with a stern face.

"Or...I could release you tomorrow."

Caelius perked up with a furrowed brow. Perhaps he misheard.

"What?" The war elf shared the same look of confusion as Caelius.

"Tomorrow, I can have you released," Camren answered. "And you'll be back with the rest of your people. Your family."

"Wh-why would you do that? Is this a trap. I will not lead you to them."

"And we will not follow. I promise."

"Your promises mean nothing. You expect me to believe that you will set me free? My enemy?"

"I told you. I want to see an end to this war."

"How will this end the war?"

The prince shrugged. "Call it an experiment."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that if there ever comes a day that my little brother is captured by the enemy, much like you are now," The prince then stood up while his eyes never left the elf girl, "I hope your people would afford him the same compassion that I'm about to show you."

For once, the elfling fell silent as her animalistic posturing was abruptly replaced with a confused silence.

Camren then reverted back to his original tongue. "And if that little brother of mine were here now..."

That was when the prince turned away from the war elf to face the corner of the dark prison cell. Caelius' eyes widened and his body instinctively froze while his brother's gaze settled eerily on him. He couldn't possibly see him. Could he?

"I'd ask him," Camren continued, "if he's made up his mind yet."

Caelius restricted his own movements and held his breath in an attempt to stay quiet. He then shut his eyes tightly as though it would help him hide from his brother's knowing stare. Several long seconds passed while Caelius remained unmoved in his huddling position. Was his brother still there? The room around had fallen silent since he closed his eyes. Even the war elf wasn't making any noise. Eventually, Caelius decided to open his eyes.

Suddenly, the little boy jumped back at the sight of his brother staring down at him.

"Well?" his brother asked.

"Wh-what?" Caelius replied.

"Have you made up your mind?"

The frightened boy could only frown up at his elder brother. "What are you talking-"

Marschal opened his eyes.

Slightly confused, he gazed around to see himself lying on the ground surrounded by a camp full of sleeping villagers. Then he turned to face the bushes where he heard the rustling from before. It was only when it didn't move or produce a sound did Marschal realize that he had been dreaming.

After taking a deep breath, Marschal looked up to see the night sky glittering through the canopy. With the admirable view above him, Marschal couldn't help but to nestle himself more comfortably against the ground he laid upon.

Yet, despite how relaxed he was beneath the midnight scenery, a significant part of him still felt troubled by the dream he had. What was it about? Why did he have it? The Paravellan spent the rest of the night contemplating the dream until the pre-dawn sky brightened with a lighter shade of blue.

Eventually, Marschal made his decision.

He then grabbed the Warwielder lying beside him before standing up from the ground and heading off.

Several minutes passed while Marschal weaved his way quietly around the camp to pack his things. The Paravellan exerted effort into not waking anyone up as he saddled his horse at the edge of the camp.

After he felt confident that he had everything he needed for his journey, Marschal proceeded to grab onto his horse's reins and guide it away from the camp.

"What are you doing?"

Marschal quickly whipped around to see Juren staring at him.

"Where are you going?" Juren asked.

"I-I'm...leaving. Sorry for the horse and the provisions. I needed to-"

"Why? Why are you leaving?"

"I..." The Paravellan struggled to look his friend in the eye, "I don't...really know. Well, I think I know. But it's hard to explain."

"Well, then try."

Marschal hoped he wouldn't have to answer that question. He contemplated deflecting the subject but decided against it. "I think...I'm looking for someone."

"Looking for someone? Who?"

"I don't know. Like I said, it's hard to explain."

A part of Marschal felt that if he continued looking into Juren's eyes, he would change his mind. He doubted that he would but as though to make sure, the Paravellan took this time to climb up onto his horse and seat himself on the saddle.

He then looked down to see a pained expression on Juren's face.

"So that's it?" Juren said, desperately. "You're just going to leave?"

"How long have we known each other?" Marschal asked.

"Almost...two years, now. Why?"

"Do you remember how we first met?"

"I remember," Juren said with a nod. "You were all bloodied up and bruised. With scars all over your body. You were near death."

"And then you saved me. You were the first one to ever show me kindness in this strange land. A kindness I was unaccustomed to even where I'm from. And as I got to know you better and saw how you treated those around you, especially those who were less fortunate, it's only until now do I realize that it was that compassion that drew me towards you. Your compassion......reminded me of someone I used to know."

Juren then hung his head to hide his eyes. However, Marschal still managed to glimpse the pair of tears falling from his face. "If...If that's so..." Juren's voice broke, struggling to continue, "...then why are you leaving now?"

Marschal fell silent and averted his gaze from his friend. Was there a way not to answer him? Perhaps, he could lie?

No.

The Paravellan reluctantly broke the brief silence. "Because you don't remind me of him anymore."

It was clear the words had a visible effect on Juren as Marschal saw his friend's lips tremble and more tears falling to the ground.

'I...I..." Juren couldn't finish the sentence. Instead, he remained quiet with his eyes still glued to the ground beneath his feet.

Despite his friend's protests, Marschal had a sense that Juren fully understood his decision though he wasn't sure if he should've been relieved or disappointed by that realization. He didn't give it much thought before he started maneuvering his horse away from Juren and the camp.

Marshal caught one last glimpse of his friend's hanging head before trotting deeper into the woods. Perhaps he should have said goodbye.

"Marschal!"

He halted his horse and glanced over his shoulder to see Juren holding up a bright red dagger.

"Your dagger!"

The Red Fang. Another invaluable artifact from the Royal Family. A treasure of the Paravellan Empire. A useful tool that helped him bring down the notorious Bandit King. An expensive item that would've been a waste to leave behind.

Yet...

"You can keep it," said Marshal as he faced forward again and rode further into the woods. He hoped the farewell gift would be enough to replace any verbal or teary goodbyes. Maybe if he needed it he would retrieve it one day in the future, giving Marschal a reason to visit his friend.

Though Marschal strongly suspected that this would be the last time he and Juren would ever see each other again. An idea he refused to think about. Much like the sound of soft crying he pretended not to hear behind him.