Starmist returned to Stargate long after night had settled. She did not look as she usually did. Her steps were heavy, her face drained of expression.
From the moment she crossed the front gate, she did not smile. She did not greet the guards. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead, unfocused. The guards noticed immediately, but none of them spoke. They only opened every door in her path, careful not to slow her.
Lord and Lady Star were in the family chamber, speaking softly over sweet chilled drinks as they often did. They noticed her through the window, walking past without turning her head, without offering even the smallest acknowledgment.
Lady Star set her cup down and went outside.
“Starmist,” she called gently. “Is everything all right?”
There was no reply.
Starmist kept walking.
Lord Star looked at his wife, confusion tightening his expression.
Starmist passed Starlax’s chamber. The girl was still unconscious. Normally, Starmist would stop. She did not tonight. She went straight to her own room.
She did not light a single lamp.
She collapsed onto the bed, face down, pulled a pillow close, and screamed into it. The sound was swallowed whole. Even in her despair, she would not allow All Realm to hear her fracture. No one was allowed to know.
Far below, in the lower keep, Sicilia packed her belongings. She planned to travel north for several weeks to consult a spiritual sorcerer. She asked permission from Lord and Lady Star and departed that same night. Before leaving, she glanced once toward Starmist’s balcony. The room remained dark.
Lord Star retreated to his office. Njall was already waiting.
“My lord,” Njall said, gripping his pencil tightly.
Lord Star waved it aside and gestured for him to sit. Njall presented detailed material lists and cost projections for rebuilding the structures destroyed in the recent incident.
After a moment, Njall spoke again, hesitant. “Lord Star… how is Young Lady Starlax?”
“We are still waiting for her to wake,” Lord Star replied, eyes on the report. “Fortunately, the alchemical solution Sicilia obtained proved effective. It restored her spirit.”
Njall frowned. “Restored her spirit? Do you mean something like adrenaline?”
“To be honest,” Lord Star said, “magic is not my discipline. Your logic may not be wrong.”
Njall fell silent, guilt pressing heavily on him. After a moment, he gathered his resolve.
“If you permit it, my lord, I can return to the Cogworks. There may be medical support equipment there that could help Lady Starlax once I return.”
Lord Star closed the report. “The situation there is unstable again, isn’t it?”
Njall nodded. Still, he insisted. Construction had not resumed yet, and his conscience would not allow him to remain idle.
After brief deliberation, Lord Star agreed. Njall would leave that night.
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As he reached the door, Njall paused and returned to his seat. “My lord,” he said carefully, “about the power that awakened in Young Lady Starlax…”
Lord Star turned sharply. He hesitated, then sighed. “This must remain confidential.”
Njall nodded at once.
“She is a hybrid,” Lord Star said quietly. “Between my power and her aunt’s.”
He turned toward the window. “In our kind, such power is said to lead to instability. I find that… unsettling.”
Njall said nothing.
“I do not believe old myths,” Lord Star added. “But belief does not erase risk.”
“I really sorry my lord,” Njall said. “If I fast enough to secure her, none of this will happen to your family.”
Lord Star laughed softly and praised the young man’s manners. Then Njall took his leave and departed for his faction, carrying both purpose and unease into the night.
Leroy could no longer bring himself to fly back to his residence in District One.
Cheng found him instead and brought him to District Three. Throughout the journey, Leroy did not speak a single word.
They went to Pristine House. As usual, they gathered in the private underground room. Leroy sat between Lisa and Cheng, a familiar arrangement that tonight felt distant. His two friends talked casually, filling the space with ordinary noise, while Leroy stared into his glass, unmoving.
Elysius attempted to reach him through his transmitter again and again. Leroy ignored every call.
After a long stretch of silence, Lisa finally looked at him. “So,” she said carefully, “that means the answer is no, right?”
Cheng understood at once and poured another drink. “Stay strong my friend. You’re standing in an impossible position.”
“We’re always here if you need us,” Lisa added, her hand closing around Leroy’s arm.
Leroy slapped his own cheeks lightly, once, twice, as if trying to pull himself back into focus.
“We disband,” he said.
The words landed hard.
Cheng and Lisa both turned fully toward him.
“You mean the council?” Lisa asked, unease rising. “This is temporary, right?”
“What exactly happened at that tower?” Cheng asked, his tone just as tight.
Leroy drained his glass. “Don’t worry. This is temporary. I’ll bring them together again.”
Relief flickered across Lisa’s face. “Who stepped away?”
“Amaterasu,” Leroy replied. “Lucretius.”
Cheng frowned. “Cygnus?”
Leroy shook his head.
“You know Amaterasu and Lucretius are the reason the council is feared,” Lisa said quietly. “They’re symbols.”
“As long as Cygnus and Starmist stands with you,” Cheng replied, “the council can be reunited.”
Leroy nodded without conviction. His gaze drifted between his friends and the bare walls, as if looking for something that wasn’t there.
“And Starmist?” Lisa asked softly.
“Lisa, stop asking question,” Cheng snapped. “Leroy needs time.”
Leroy stood abruptly.
He moved toward the front counter, grabbed a bottle, and drank straight from it. When it emptied, he opened another and finished that too.
Cheng stepped forward to stop him. Leroy shoved him aside.
“Why,” Leroy shouted suddenly, his voice rising and cracking, “why did that abyssal fools have to say it in the meeting?”
Lisa and Cheng exchanged a glance.
“So what if I love her?” Leroy continued. “What does that change? It has nothing to do with this. The Vanguard still caused chaos.”
Lisa swallowed hard. She knew how badly Leroy handled alcohol. Cheng tried again to pull him back into his seat, calm and firm.
“She must hate me now,” Leroy muttered. “I meant to bury this for the rest of my life.”
He opened a third bottle and drank it down. When it was empty, he hurled it across the room. The glass shattered against the floor.
Cheng quietly began hiding the remaining bottles, sliding them out of reach before Leroy could say something he could never take back.
“Enough,” Cheng said gently. “You can still fix this.”
He pulled Leroy into an embrace, steadying him as emotion shook his frame.
Lisa suggested a small underground bout nearby. A distraction. A way to forget, at least for a few hours.
Leroy refused. He wanted to go home.
Lisa cleared Pristine House without hesitation. Guests were forced out. The doors were shut. No one was allowed to watch the council’s leader unravel. Everyone feared the Wild Snipe, and even the bartender was ordered to close early.
Once the building was empty, Lisa told Cheng to lift Leroy and carry him to the steam carriage. Together, they brought him back to his residence in District One.
Leroy fell unconscious under the weight of alcohol.
During the long ride, Cheng and Lisa spoke in low voices about their own internal problems, choosing not to touch the council, even though its fracture would eventually reach them too.
Hours later, they arrived.
Cheng stayed the night. Lisa returned to District Three.
The Pale Dragon laid Leroy onto his bed, then went downstairs and slept on the sofa. The lower floor was lined with old newspapers and faded photographs from Leroy’s youth. The upper room was no different. History clung to every wall.
Much later, Leroy stirred.
He remained flat on the bed, unable to rise. His eyes drifted to a small framed photograph on the table beside him.
It showed him, Starmist, Knight Quasar, and Lord Star, all younger, all smiling.
