Nikoletta sat by her father’s bedside, staring down at his chest as it rose and fell. His injuries were healed, leaving not even a scar, and his breathing was steady and unlabored. Still, he refused to awaken.

“It’s been two days, Master Castro. Can you not awaken him yet?” Nikoletta said, trying to keep her tone polite, but finding it difficult to do so in light of her worry.

The old tower master stood beside her, watching the Duke Enrico. “As I told you, the spell to do so would be very costly. I would not leave myself fully drained of magic with the possibility of a recurring attack. I understand your concern, young lady Monticci, but your father is in no immediate danger.”

“Hooh…” Nikoletta sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against her knees. “People in comas get brain damage sometimes, right? What if that happens?”

“What did I say?” Castro asked, then repeated, “Your father is in no immediate danger.”

“You’re right,” she said, lifting her head up. “You’re right. You would know best. I don’t… even know how to begin to thank you, Tower Master. How did you even find out about the invasion?”

Castro shook his head. “It was happenstance I came here. I was looking for a promising Acolyte.”

“Your wyvern… I never intended to…” she muttered. “You sacrificed much for Mateth.”

“I helped of my own accord. If one places their hand in troubled waters, should they rage when their hand is bit? Such is the action of a child, not a man as old as me.” The tower master smiled. “My Gray Owl… I cannot say I am unbothered by the loss, but when you lend something to someone unversed in how to use it properly, you cannot expect them to be a master. He had been by my side for seventy years. Everything dies, eventually.”

“House Monticci’s honor demands we repay this debt,” Nikoletta answered firmly.

“I know, and I do not doubt your house’s honor. Someday, that debt will be collected. I would prefer it to be at a time when neither will suffer further. Should I extort you while your seat of power lies in ruin, your father in a coma? One does not save a life expecting repayment—or at least, not a true savior,” Castro dismissed with a shake of his head. “Take your time, rebuild yourself and your city. Despite my sagging skin, I plan to live for a while yet.” The Tower Master smiled warmly.

“And besides, that squadron of archers you called for helped greatly when they arrived. I had heard of this ‘Ebonice’ through rumor alone, but it is indeed a great enemy to spellcasters.” He retrieved an arrow of the black substance and held it to the light. It resembled obsidian somewhat but was much more translucent.

“You are… a very good man, Master Castro,” Nikoletta said, a great deal of tension draining from her shoulders.

Nikoletta’s mind had grown numb from the constant anxiety the past few days. These events helped her realize how powerless she truly was. With her father incapacitated, she was the regent of the Duchy of Monticci. There was great unrest within the capital Mateth—refugees from the coastal villages swamped the city’s gates, causing great disorder outside.

Inside was little different. There were a few snow elves living within the city, and mobs formed, lynching several of them without provocation. It was a terrible thing, but the military force they had was too small to punish the people that carried out those acts. The guilt weighed at Nikoletta’s mind daily. She lowered her head into her hands, rubbing her tired eyes.

And atop all of that, Argrave was still absent. He could be dead. He could be a captive, tortured and starving. He could… Nikoletta frowned, recalling something the Tower Master had said.

“Master Castro,” she said, straightening her back. “That Acolyte you were looking for… was his name Argrave?”

Castro was taken aback. “Yes, it was. You know of him?”

“Are you serious?” she stood. “But then he…” Her mind fell into disarray.

Did he plan this all along? To have Master Castro come to help at the last minute?

“No… no, that’s ridiculous.” She shook her head.

“You know this boy, young lady Monticci?” the Tower Master questioned.

“I do,” Nikoletta nodded. “He’s my cousin. He went to Veiden to stop the invasion.”

“What did you say?” Castro asked with a strong hint of disbelief flavoring his tone. “No, that’s—”

A great bell rung, and Nikoletta’s head snapped to attention. “That’s the watchman’s bell,” she said, the end of her sentence cut off with another ring. She stepped past the chair and quickly moved to the door, stepping outside into the estate’s hallway. She rushed to a large bay window that overlooked the coast.

A lone longship cut across the sea. The sight of it brought back terrible memories, and Nikoletta’s breathing quickened. She looked out to the ocean beyond, but she saw no other ships. The flag bore atop the ship was white in way of the red flag with the black wheel in the center. She saw a lone figure on the figurehead of the ship.

#####

“You should get off from there,” Anneliese called out, arms crossed as she stood behind Argrave within the ship’s railings. She had donned a set of thick black leather robes lined with white fur more suitable for travel. Her long hair was bound in a half-crown braid. It flowed down all the way to her knees, swaying lightly in the wind.

Argrave turned his head back from his spot standing atop the figurehead of the ship. He, too, wore a set of black leather robes, though with a cloak of white fur over his shoulders in way of lining. “Please. I saw you riding in this same spot when you sailed to Barden. This was on the eve of battle, no less.” He placed one hand on his hips in defiance. Three daggers with black blades dangled on his leg. “Always wanted to do this, anyway. Make-believe I’m some kind of Jarl.”

A wave clashed into the ship and Argrave jerked about, one foot slipping off the side. He barely managed to regain his balance, and then he made a speedy retreat back onto the safety of the boat’s railings. Anneliese stared at him. She didn’t smile much, but he had been around her long enough to recognize amusement in her eyes.

“Alright, so maybe it isn’t as dreamy as I thought it might be.” Argrave sat against one of the railings, peering out to the coastline ahead. “At least I don’t get seasick. Always wondered if I would, but never really had the chance to test it.”

“You’re in good spirits. Is it because you’re heading home?” She sat on a chest tied to the ship’s deck by some ropes.

“Home? I’m but a vagrant. I sold my home, became a nomad.” Argrave pointed at the chest Anneliese sat atop of. “I’m in good spirits because of those books in there. Good harvest, all things considered. Plus these Ebonice daggers…” Argrave tapped the three on his leg. “Dras is generous.”

“No. I think that you’re happy because Mateth did not fall. It went against your expectations.”

Argrave almost cracked at that moment. Anneliese was half-right. He was hopeful. He hoped that he would not return to see the people he’d become intimately acquainted with over the past months dead. The other half was a deep anxiety that the opposite might be true.

Argrave stared at Anneliese, clicking his tongue. “Alright, so maybe I am. It’s a double-edged sword, though. Mateth is still standing, but it’ll be harder for Veiden to lend me any aid in my future plans.”

“I’m still curious what you intend to do, exactly. You want to prepare the world for Gerechtigkeit, but how?” She gazed at him, amber eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“I don’t like repeating myself especially, so we’ll wait for Galamon,” Argrave shrugged.

“You still intend to bring him along?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Good fighter, quiet, loyal to a fault, although a bit bloodthirsty, I will admit.” Argrave grabbed at his neck. He spotted a great number of knights moving across the coast towards their boat on foot. “Look at that,” Argrave said. “Another welcoming party for my landing. I might get used to this.”

He held his hand out to form a spell matrix and he felt his vision spin. Soon enough, he was looking down at his body, immobile. Argrave was using druidic magic. He had bound a pigeon to himself and left it resting on the ship’s sail. He commanded the pigeon he was seeing through to move and watched as it flew out across the ocean towards the host of knights. In the center of the knights, Nikoletta rode a horse. His brain shook at that moment, relieved from one great burden. He brought the bird back to the ship.

“Phew,” Argrave said as his vision spun once more. “Druidic magic will take some getting used to.”

The oars rushed back and forth, pushing them ever closer towards the beach. Eventually, when the ship grew close enough, the ship turned on its side, and a great deal of Veidimen pushed out a plank that landed on the beach. They stayed aboard, but Argrave and Anneliese stood. One of the Veidimen cut the rope tying the chest down, and then hauled it, following close behind them.

Argrave stepped onto the beach, holding his arms out. “Feel that? Wind, untainted by snow or dread cold. A stiff autumn breeze is paradise compared to that winter wonderland.”

Ahead, the veritable parade of steel-armored knights approached them. One person broke free of the crowd and rushed forward, spurring a horse onward. Argrave suppressed a small little grin as he saw Nikoletta’s obsidian-color hair waving about in the wind. Some knights tried to stop her, but none dared restrain the young lady Monticci by force.

Argrave walked forward in long strides. Nikoletta grew nearer, and her caution overwrote whatever it was that spurred her to move towards him. She slowed the horse and then dismounted, holding its reins as she stared.

“Nikoletta, cousin. Nice to see you in one piece,” Argrave said, offering a handshake.

Nikoletta stared at him with her dark pink eyes, breathing heavily without saying a word. Then, she rushed forward and veritably tackled Argrave, hands wrapped around his back. Argrave staggered a little but managed to keep his footing. His hands hovered awkwardly above her head, which was buried below his chest.

“What are you—we’re hugging? Well, I certainly didn’t…” Argrave trailed off. He heard some sobbing noises, muffled beneath his clothes.

“You’re crying? Why are you crying?” Argrave turned his head to Anneliese in panic. “Why is she crying?” Anneliese only watched, offering no answer.

Nikoletta headbutted him in the chest lightly. “Shut up, you bastard.”

Argrave frowned and hesitantly returned the embrace. He had never been good at hugs, but it was doubly awkward considering the height difference. He didn’t want to get his clothes soaked in tears and snot, but he didn’t wish to push her away, either.

“It’s been… so damned hard,” Nikoletta said. “Why don’t you tell anyone what you’re doing? Why do you go off on your own like that? You just leave me here with a pit in my stomach.”

Argrave didn’t know what to say for a time. After a while, he opened his mouth and slowly said, “I mean… you’ve still got my clothes in that guest bedroom. Didn’t I say you could take them out and stare at them when you miss me?”

She started shaking again, and Argrave was worried he had made things worse. It took him a few seconds, but he recognized that she was laughing. She pushed away, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” she began, wiping her face off. “The past few days… they’ve been unimaginably stressful. It all just exploded on you.” She took a deep breath, regaining her composure. “I thought I might never see you again. Spent the whole time steeling myself for that. Maybe they’d find your corpse on a beach. Maybe you’d just never be heard from again.”

I thought the same about you, Argrave thought, but refrained from saying it.

“Pfft.” Argrave scoffed. “Me? Dead? Impossible. No rest for the wicked. That includes the long sleep.” He surveyed his clothes where she’d wept, cleaning them off with water magic briefly. “It appears Mateth didn’t fall, despite my fears. What happened?”

“The Tower Master Castro came atop a wyvern. With his help, we repelled the invaders, but the docks are… well, gone. My father… is in a coma, at least for another couple days.” She took a deep breath, as though it was difficult to say aloud. “Ultimately… we barely hung on. But that isn’t important. What in the gods name did you do? You’re returning escorted,” she eyed Anneliese warily.

“The Veidimen won’t trouble Berendar any longer, at least for another decade.” Argrave retrieved a rolled-up paper from his pocket. “Here. A contract. Peace treaty, I guess, but they called it a contract.”

Nikoletta stared in mute shock, but eventually took the paper from his hand. Argrave’s eyes stayed locked on the steadily approaching knights, marching on foot. He turned his head back to the longship. All those that had been rowing the longship stood at the edge, shields arrayed in a perfect line as they watched the approaching army. It was quite a terrifying sight.

“It’s over?” Nikoletta finally spoke. “Just like that. They’re free to just come, ruin thousands of lives, and then leave as though nothing ever happened.” Her eyes went to Anneliese, and the snow elf kept her amber eyes steady, returning the gaze.

Argrave’s expression grew somber. “I can’t change what’s already happened. I did… the best I could.”

The words felt hollow. He watched Nikoletta. He didn’t need to be an empath to tell there was grief etched on her face—hardships, sorrows. Argrave had been fully prepared to let Veiden seize Mateth. If not for chance, the person before him might be dead. All he had demonstrated was two percent indecision, ninety-eight percent ineptitude. Well, perhaps indecision is ineptitude, Argrave reasoned.

“You’re right. I can’t complain to you,” Nikoletta carried on, unaware of Argrave’s thoughts. “I see your name, I see some strange word, ‘Gerechtigkeit,’ and He Who Would Judge the Gods. I want you to explain to me what happened. Explain to me what’s happening,” she said, rephrasing the tense. “I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore.”

“Sure,” Argrave agreed. “Long story, though. Might be tiresome.” He looked back at the crowd. “Where’s Mina? I don’t see her around. Nothing… happened, did it?” He asked in concern.

“Mina?” Nikoletta’s face went red and she looked to the ground. “She… well, she… we haven’t spoken in a while after she…”

“Hoh?” Argrave asked eagerly, his joy at learning she was fine seeping into his speech. “Did she do something? Get a weight off her chest to her best friend? Confess something?”

Nikoletta’s head shot up to lock gazes with Argrave. She stepped closer, speaking quieter despite their distance from the host of knights ahead. “You knew about… what she…?”

Argrave smiled. “Of course I knew. I gave her the push.”

Her eyes widened at his words. “Why would you do such a thing? It’s against the teachings of the gods,” she whispered insistently. “I’ve heard rumors of such things in aristocratic circles. Degenerates, deviants, they call these couples. People are dragged from their homes and stoned for this.”

Nikoletta’s knights came to stop a fair distance away, keeping a wary eye on the Veidimen aboard the boat. Argrave conjured a ward to block their conversation.

“I imagine only the peasants face serious repercussions for such relationships. Such is the nature of a landed elite,” Argrave commented. “I’ve told no other soul. Even if people find out, you don’t genuinely think your father would let you be hurt for this, I hope. You’re his only child.”

“You assume much about me to encourage my friend in this manner,” she said angrily, voice unrestrained now that their conversation was blocked by magic.

“You were prepared to leave home because of your father’s insistence to arrange a marriage for you,” Argrave said poignantly. “Heard about plenty of attempts by handsome nobles to court you in the Order of the Gray Owl—all of them for naught. I see the way you look at Mina. Above all, you don’t even blink at this handsome face of mine. Even skinny, I’m quite a looker. Right, Anneliese?”

Argrave turned his head. Anneliese opened her mouth, thinking, and then shut it. Argrave smiled and turned back to Nikoletta. “See? She agrees.”

Nikoletta’s face was tight, but she did not rush to deny his words. “Why would you want such a thing to happen?” she struck at the heart of the matter. “Doesn’t benefit you. Is it because you have that inclination…?”

“If by ‘that inclination,’ you mean being attracted to women, then yes,” Argrave said with a snort, then considered her question further. In truth, the pairing had been done at whim when he was in a good mood. Granted, it was what he always chose in-game, particularly because their ending was happiest. When they had been game characters, he had some attachment to them as just that. Now, though…

Argrave spoke much slower than usual, saying the answer only as he came to it. “Is it so strange to seek happiness for two friends? It’ll be difficult, doubtless. I can’t say people will accept it easily if at all, but I believe it’s worth pursuing.”

“Friends, is it?” Nikoletta considered that. “I have no idea what to think. I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about what she said. On the eve of a civil war, my father in a coma… now is not the best time to be lost in matters like these.”

"Your father is in a coma?” Argrave pressed.

“He’ll be fine, Master Castro assures me. My father will be awoken when the tower master’s magic recovers sufficiently.” Nikoletta let out a light sigh. “Such a ridiculous situation… my father had you dead-set as my marriage partner, and now you try and pair me with a woman.”

“What? Really?” Argrave asked immediately. When Nikoletta nodded in confirmation, Argrave started laughing. “I’ll have to refuse. I don’t fancy children with oversized chins and the mental capacity of dogs.” Argrave scratched his chin. “Though… maybe this isn’t so bad. I can think of a way to solve both of these matters of the heart.”

“There is no ‘matter of the heart,’ just what you’ve forced to happen,” Nikoletta insisted.

“Sure, sure.” Argrave nodded, agreeing sarcastically. “You said yourself you don’t know what to think—maybe I can give you some time to do so. First, let’s walk and talk of what you asked me earlier—about Gerechtigkeit.” Argrave snapped and pointed ahead. “Oh, and have the pride parade ahead carry my luggage. They’re heavy books, you see, and I’m far too weakened from the long journey.”