“The king has returned!” announced Jon as he opened the door. Antares placed a hand on his shoulder and thanked him. Jon would not be able to wipe the smile off his face for weeks.

  “What took you so long?” asked Casspien.

  “Long story,” Antares said, waving his hand. He pointed over to where Guinevere sat. “Where are Gwen and the girls?”

  “They have gone to prepare for your departure in four days time, your highness.” Began Lord Gash, “While you were gone, we thought it best to at least scout the area ahead.”

  “We cannot be too sure what those blood fuckers may do,” Grunted Lord Quelleum.

  “You do not have to be so crude in front of the king.” Lord Vashva chastised his round friend who huffed in response.

  “Very well. I doubt I would have had a say in the matter,” Antares accepted.

  “You would have not,” Casspien reassured the king.

  The matter in which they were next to discuss was something Antares had been looking to avoid ever since he was given the crown from his father. There were certain memories from his past he had no desire to revisit for there was nothing that could be done to change those things. But as a monarch, and a ruler, he was expected to handle that which he often avoided; the conversation turned to one of marriage.

  Lord Vashva cleared his throat, “Now I would like to bring forth the topic of marriage. King Antares you are more than of age to be wed. As I understand you were once betrothed to Princess Freyja Stormborne-”

  The temperature in the room dropped rapidly. Ice began to form on the corners of the table and walls. Soon the air became cold and harsh, a piercing sensation made it hard to breathe. Such frost appeared out of thin air as though it had always been there. The growing pressure that emanated from Antares body brought with it such unbelievable intensity merely being in his presence felt as though one would freeze to death.

  “Antares…” Casspien cautioned.

  A moment later Antares exhaled and the room returned to normal. It had been years since he last heard her name. The words sent him deep into the recesses of his mind, to memories he burned and buried and burned again. But with just the utterance of her name it nearly brought out a side of him he often hid. A side of deep longing. But now was not the time to think of her, that was not a right he deserved.

  “Forgive me Lord Vashva. That was very childish of me,” Antares bowed.

  Lord Vashva and the other lords quickly rose to their feet. “Lord King please! You do not have to apologize! It is I who was careless!” Lord Vashva begged.

  “Quite right your majesty! You know how old Vashva is, his mind forgets him!” Lord Quelleum mimicked drinking and winked at Antares with a snarling laugh.

  “It is true. We are old my King,” Lord Gash added.

  Antares smiled at the eagerness of his council to soothe his outburst of emotion. Though he would later scold himself for his lack of control. Ever since he had returned home, his control over his feelings had been difficult to tame. So much had he missed in the five years since his exile, that he was struggling to keep it all. But he would improve, there was no time to falter. He urged for his council to sit once again and the conversation carried on. Lord Vashva went on to voice the concerns of the common folk about the king not having a queen. The people had been in great strife over the years and a royal wedding would do well to ease those grievances, Vashva spoke with certainty. Even the other lords chimed in, the common folk would see things as a great age having the coronation of the king and his wedding so soon right after each other, added lord Gash. As their plea came to an end they gave the king a chance to respond.

  “I have no need for a wife,” Antares dismissed.

  “Here we go,” Casspien prepared for his king's protest.

  “These are not the times for such things,” Antares lamented.

  “Then when is?” challenged Casspien. His displeasure visible.

  Antares rose from his chair and pointed out the tall window to the kingdom below. “When my realm is not on the brink of tearing itself apart.”

  Casspien scoffed, “Do not hide behind them. This has nothing to do with the realm.” He rose to meet the king.

  “This is not about what you need, Antares. We have a duty to these people, it is the sacrifice we make for them.” Casspien grabbed Antares by the collar and looked into his eyes. “You have mourned enough brother. Steel yourself.” They both held each other's gaze for a long time. The violet blue sunset in Casspiens eyes as cold as his words.

  It pained the young Lord Regent to talk to his friend in such a way. He knew better than anyone Antares deserved to grieve what he and Faye lost. Such a thing to be ripped apart by the hands of fate. Something Casspien never quite forgave the ancestors for allowing to happen. But long had the time for grieving passed. He could see it in the way Antares carried himself, ever since he returned with the boy named Cyrus. He had grown more indecisive, more distant. He hoped this call to action would spur his dear brother back towards reason.

  Antares and Casspien stared at each other for some time, before the lords of council quickly rose to separate the men. The day had been more than eventful for the three winter birds. This was a rare outburst they saw between the king and the Lord Regent. Lord Vashva cursed at himself softly, at his lack of caring at mentioning such a name. He had heard the stories but he could never have imagined that princess Freyja and his Lord king's bond was that deep. This only served as further proof that Lord Vashva and the others knew very little of their young king. Something that disappointed all three winter birds.

  “My lords please. Temper yourselves,” Lord Gash begged.

  “Quite right!” bemoaned Lord Quellem. His hearty laugh trying to calm the matter, “You both must be more agreeable and be less like us humans.”

  Antares lowered his head in shame, his outburst was unwarranted and he knew the words Casspien spoke to be the truth. There was little for him to say on the matter. His return from the Church of Multitude with Cyrus had done nothing but cloud his judgement. Since his conversation with the high priestess his mind had wondered too often about the past. The demons that gnawed at his heels continued to make themselves known. But he pushed past his self pity, he searched for himself once more.

  “Who, who do you have in mind?” Antares could not bring himself to meet their gaze.

  Lord Gash smiled deeply and pulled some papers from behind him, “Well, we understand the Queen of Iliad is not such a simple title.”

  “The selection process can be quite…” Lord Vashva trailed off.

  “Hotly contested?” Lord Quelleum tried to finish.

  “Bloody.” Casspien corrected.

  Antares sighed and rubbed his forehead. The more they spoke the more he felt confident in his denial of selecting a wife. Of all the realms no position was highly sought after than the bride to the King of the Stygians. It was a title that was nearly equal to that of the monarch of any of the other realms. Nearly. The young king had been taught the stories and he himself in his youth had sought out so many of them. So much death and violence over who was to be selected. The process was not easy and the candidates themselves were subjected to assassination plots from various warring factions. In the eyes of many, there was no greater time for bloodshed than when the ruler of Iliad became of age to wed.

  Over the millennia the elders had deemed it was far better for the prospective partner to be chosen long before the crown heir became of age. There would be no time for competing factions to form and ultimately the prospective partner would be under the protection of the crown. Such a selection was made for Antares himself. And that was princess Freyja of house Stormborne. Their partnership was made soon after the murder of his mother. The Storm Islands raged at the death of their beloved Queen and sought recompense for the Stygians lack of care over such an abhorrent act. To avoid a cataclysmic war that would have ended in the annihilation of the Storm Islands. King Barranagan offered the hand of his youngest son at the time, as a peace offering. One Antares grandfather, King Ragnar Stormborne quickly accepted. Antares and Freyja’s marriage was meant to usher in a new era of peace, and for once finally welcome the Storm Islands completely into Stygian culture. But all of that changed five years ago, when Antares took Nyoklas’ life.

  “Alright, now that you have explained in great detail how important this all is.” Antares looked at his council, “How many names do you have?”

  Lord Gash pulled out the first paper, “Starting with the first candidate. We four believe to be the strongest and most suitable.”

  Antares was interested to see who even Casspien would champion given his standards. “Who is she?”

  “Maria Xer-”

  “Absolutely not,” Antares demanded.

  “But my ki-” Lord Vashva began.

  “No. Not her. She hates me.” Antares stared at Casspien, he more than anyone aware of that fact. “You know it too.”

  Casspien waved him off, “She does not hate you.” He hoped his words sounded more convincing than they felt.

  “Yes she does. In fact, the only thing she hates more than me are humans.” Antares turned to his winter birds, “Which brings me to why you all would agree to this pick? Where she queen, she would have you all executed for thinking you unworthy enough to advise a Stygian let alone the king of them all.”

  The three old men blinked in confusion and looked at each other, then they turned to look at Casspien who was trying his hardest to remain indifferent.

  “It seems,” Lord Vashva began. “Lord Regent Casspien, may have forgotten to share that vital piece of information.”

  Stifling a cough Casspien said, “Perhaps it may have slipped my mind.”

  Antares grinned.

  Maria Xerxes was everything Antares chose not to be. She was cold, distant, uncaring and had an overwhelming belief in none other but her own people. She was of no ordinary lineage, she and select members of her branch family were considered the only other living true relatives of the Stygian royal family. Often they were considered the auxiliary family, for in the event Antares and his siblings were to all perish. She and her kin would take the throne. Their roots and that of Antares had been intertwined long before even the days of God King Gilgamesh Xerxes. For the royal family turned to no other lineage when it was time to bear heirs when there was no other viable candidate. Their union would usher in the age Daimion had been painstakingly crafting over the years. Maria and many like her who lived beyond the mountains, believed that the Stygians were the one true rulers of Iliad and no other family, especially human, were capable of accepting such a task.

  Many of the Stygians north held this steadfast belief, history was littered with the corpses of Stygians dying time and time again for Aurum and her inhabitants. And to Maria and many who followed her, their reward was the gradual loss of their home over the millennia. Once long ago one could go to every corner of Aurum and see Stygians thriving in multitude, and now they could only be found in Iliad and further north into the Great White.

  Although he would not tell them, Antares knew Maria would not accept the world he wished to create. She was far too stuck in her ways, in the ways of their people and he could not afford to have her as an adversary. She was already one of those who championed his execution for what happened to Nykolas. To give such a woman access to the kind of power he wielded only invited further division.

  “Perhaps we will revisit her another time.” Lord Vashva said eagerly, hoping to move on.

  They all nodded.

  “Who else?” Antares asked, slightly concerned now that he knew Maria was their best candidate.

  The council members continued to rattle off names of different Stygian women, many of them were of high nobility that Antares had either known or heard about from his time at court as a child. Each woman was deserving of being queen in their own right. Many of them lived in the neighboring castles and palaces that dotted the Ilian countryside. But to Antares none of them were ideal. With the events of his exile and Daimion's desire to seal the country over the last five years, he sought someone who would bring unity to his realm. He sought someone who could embody the heart of his people. He sought a human woman.

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  “Those are all the candidates we have within the Iliad.” Lord Gash said exasperated and slightly disappointed none of the Stygian women he selected caught the eye of the king.

  “I did not think you were a picky man, my king.” Lord Quellem amused, scratching his greying beard. “You are wise beyond your years.”

  “Or stubborn,” Casspien added with a slight scowl.

  Antares rolled his eyes, “Easy now Lord Casspien.”

  “Your reverence, truly none of them caught your eye?” asked Lord Vashva.

  Antares looked to choose his words carefully, “Many of them were fine candidates. But I was somewhat interested in a marriage that could further my ambitions.”

  He did not have to explicitly say it, they were all aware his ambitions meant reclaiming the Nine Grimoires of Nyx. It had been days since the speech he gave at his ceremony, they had all been eager to hear more about it, but there was never much time to discuss such things with the realm falling apart. None more than Casspien was eager to hear more about his dear friend's desire to reunite the nine realms of Aurum. Finally, Antares for the first time since that night showed signs of ambition, signs that he was finally aware of what was at stake. A small smile escaped the Lord Regent's lips.

  The lords looked at each other, half expecting the conversation to go this way. There was no shock or dismay on their face, instead what Antares could see was a new found sense of determinism. To him it seemed they had prepared for this eventuality and so Casspien pulled out a folded note from within his shirt.

  “What is that you have there?” Antares asked.

  Casspien unfurled the note, “This here is a list of three names. Each name belongs to a princess of a different kingdom. Each name will further your goal for the grimoires. For a united Aurum.”

  Antares was slightly taken aback, he had not discussed any of this with them, so he was unsure how they would have reacted. But seeing the determination on their faces, the belief in their eyes, in their souls. He knew he need not question their allegiance, all present agreed with his speech many nights ago.

  “What are their names?” Antares leaned forward.

  “Crown Princess Emma Vezimeer, Queen Roderika Altieri and Princess Scylla Vermillion.” Casspien finished.

  Antares let the names rattle around in his head. As he did so, Casspien began his own tirade offering what could be gained from wedding any of them. He first began with Crown Princess Emma of house Vezimeer. It had been rumored that she was going to assume the throne of the pacifist realm of Neith from her father, King Edward. He had long been looking to pass the crown to her. Princess Emma was one of the loudest voices that protested Iliad closing itself off. For years she had written countless letters, all Daimion ignored in favor of his plans. The princess had not wed because her father had raised her in such a sheltered life, she seldom was allowed to leave the palace where she was housed. There had been many marriage proposals offered to her through the years but all were rejected by either her or her father. With Antares all of that could change. The King of the Stygians looking for a wife and one from the realm of Neith could ease the tensions throughout the realms. Especially of the southern kingdoms who so brazenly distrust the Stygians. She was a woman of peace and sound mind, despite how young she was. Even the Golden Company in all their glory and wealth listened when she spoke.

  The Lord Regent moved on to Queen Roderika of house Altieri. This brought with it some grunts and uncomfortable silence. Roderika Altieri was the daughter of Tereza Altieri, who was one of the legendary four Black Witches of Aurum; the Black Witch of the west. Antares was not privy to much of his father’s past for he rarely spoke of it when he lived. But he knew Tereza Altieri was part of it. To what extent he was unsure, such conversations were never broached. But before he loved his mother and Lady Alena. In the shadows muffled voices whispered that the great Demon King of the north once loved a black raven that soared the night sky.

  That was not the only connection that Roderika and Antares shared, for the auburn haired queen’s father, the emperor Nero once too was close with the young king's father. Such an unnatural feeling washed over the room, especially with Antares. His fathers past was just that, but the past his father and Nero shared was far too great to simply ignore. And yet, with Roderika he found common ground. Antares knew of her wild nature, of her proficiency for battle and conquest. Like him she too was raised young to take life and like him she too excelled. The Queen of Lunaelia had to be someone who could look into the harsh near lawlessness of her realm and command respect and order. Of all the names mentioned so far, she was the closest to Maria in terms of being worthy to sit upon the Stygian throne as ruler, as his queen.

  “Would Nero accept?” asked Antares.

  His interest gladdened Casspien, “We believe so. For over a century he has tried to bend the rest of the northern realms to his will. They have resisted, barely.” Casspien remembered the records he once looked over detailing the realms opinion on unification. “But this union, this marriage between you both would give him the influence he needs. Nero is far more interested in how he is perceived. What better way for him to be remembered than the emperor who united the south and north?”

  What Casspien said was true, this marriage would be something Nero would agree too. However, where Antares hesitated would be in the scope of such a union. Roderika was a near perfect candidate. But she was a queen in her own right, would she be so willing as to accept such a role? To allow her people that she has cared for, for so long be governed by another, by a Stygian? Just as Roderika answered so many questions she raised just as many more. She was far too much of an unknown, but right now to Antares she seemed the most viable choice.

  “And what of Princess Scylla?” Antares continued the conversation.

  “I believe her to be the best option my king!” belched Lord Quellem.

  “Oh hush now, you say that because one of your cousins is married to a Beastman.” Lord Vashva chastised the old lord who smiled.

  “She seems the safest of our options. A marriage with her would go a long way to improve our relationship with the Beastmen of Laconia and by extension even the kingdom of Avalon too.” Casspien added.

  Princess Scylla Vermillion was the younger sister of the King of the Beastmen and ruler of Laconia, King Dion of house Vermillion. Antares knew the Stygians had a complicated relationship with the Beastmen, once created by the humans as a weapon to eradicate the original inhabitants of Aurum. The Beastmen were soundly beaten during the Second Great War and subsequently were freed by the Stygians. No longer would they be slaves to the humans who made them for war. But the Beastmen were not granted true freedom. Instead bound by the very same magic that the humans had used on them into eternal servitude by the Stygians. Their complete freedom was something that they had hoped to attain, same as the Nephilim now enjoy. But Antares knew the Beastmen would never choose such a violent path. But this marriage could open the door for the young King to use them to his advantage. He knew King Dion well, they had grown up together if only for a short time, and in that time Dion was fiercely loyal to him. Antares in his youth had always wondered if that loyalty was genuine or because of the power his people had held over them.

  “Dion would be over the moon at such a union.” Antares smiled.

  “Quite right my king. Such a marriage would bring joy to the lands.” beamed Lord Quellem.

  The other birds nodded in agreement.

  “The issue lies in that the Beastmen would ask for their release. Almost demand it.” Casspien added.

  The room fell silent for a moment.

  “Would it be such a bad thing to give it to them?” suggested Lord Gash, his voice hopeful.

  Casspien sighed, “In principle it would not. But the issue every Stygian monarch and by extension his council has faced is that all cannot agree that if released from their duty, would the Beastmen still be loyal to us, to Iliad.”

  Lord Vashva nodded, “Quite frankly the wounds they have caused for the Stygians during that war still have not all healed. And I have to agree, such a thing should not be tied to marriage. The consequences would shift the entire order of power in Aurum. The Beastmen may not know it, but they are that much of a threat.”

  Antares unfortunately agreed with Lord Vashva and Casspien. The threat the Beastmen posed was too great to grant them complete release so soon. The young king had seldom visited Laconia in his youth, but even from what he remembered. From the first time he saw a Beastman, he could tell they were powerful. Each one of them was worth ten Ilian soldiers. They were no simple enemy to defeat, for even the Lords of War at the time had their trouble. To Antares the Beastmen were much better subservient allies than unsure equals. He pushed aside the memories of promises he made to King Dion in their youth of granting them their full freedom.

  Antares yawned, all this talk of marriage did nothing but fill his head with too many futures to look at. “Perhaps we bring all this talk of marriage to a close for today and take a break. I grow tired of it.”

  “I agree, no decision needs to be made right now.” Lord Quellem scratched his beard ready to stand.

  “It was an eventful topic, much for you to think about.” Lord Vashva nodded along.

  “Better yet, take some days to think about it.” Began Casspien, “You should give us an answer when you come back from your outing with the Queen of the Nephilim.

  “Ah my lords, that reminds me.” Lord Gash spoke up.

  They all turned to the quiet lord, eager to hear what he had to say.

  “There is one more candidate, though she is a relative unknown.” He began, “Much is not known about her, but she is a princess all the same. Quite an important one actually.”

  Antares turned his full attention to his trusted lord, “And her name Lord Gash?”

  Lord Gash thought for a moment, trying to recall the name of the girl his daughters gossiped about. “If I recall, I believe her name was Reza. Ah yes, princess Reza Altieri. Daughter to Tereza Altieri and Emperor Nero.”

  “Reza? I have never heard of her.” Antares responded, the name meant nothing to him.

  Lord Vashva and Casspien both sported a look of confusion, neither of them also knew who she was. But Lord Quellem had a different response.

  “Ah that little one. I have heard rumblings about her.” The old lord looked weary.

  “What is the matter Lord Quellem?” Antares asked, now concerned.

  “It is nothing, my king.” His face still betrayed him, “She is a worthy candidate, It is just. Well.” he trailed off.”

  “If I recall she is a witch, your magnificence.” Lord Gash added.

  There was nothing more to add. Antares knew what Lord Gash and Quellem were alluding to. Of all the realms, Iliad did not take too kindly to having a witch sit upon the royal throne. Witches had long since held a sour thought in the minds of many throughout Aurum. Their unpredictability and their immense power made them a threat too great to ignore. Their exploits throughout the great wars or historic conflicts across the history of Aurum was well documented. Many believed it, whether true or not, where witches gather great change soon arrived. And with that change, a great many would die. Their powers were rarely understood, their magic strong enough to bend a Stygian to their will. Some even claimed in the darkest of corners that they could bend Lords of Wars to their desires as well. They were the outcast and hunted. The rejected and defiled. The elders would never allow such a union, and most importantly, Antares knew Tereza Altieri would turn the sky black were any such harm to befall her daughter as it did his mother.

  “There is far too much at stake to put our hopes in some no name princess. Who is a witch at that.” Antares finished, his interests moving on.

  “I agree, besides I think she is far too young to handle the future of our kingdom.” Added Lord Quellem.

  “You speak the truth. Her naming ceremony is but a fortnight away, and she will be a mere seventeen years of age. Far too young,” Lord Gash nodded.

  And with that conversations about marriage drew to a close. There was much for everyone to think about, more for King Antares than anyone. Each candidate was worthy of the title of queen in their own right, some more so than others but nevertheless he would take the coming days to think about it. What he was not especially fond of was the presentation that would follow once he had chosen a candidate. The excessive show of love, the extravagant parties and the spending of coin that Iliad did not have. All of this was sure to follow once a bride had been chosen. But that was not something for him to worry about, he met the eyes of Lord Quellem and gave him a soft smile. Of course Lord Quellem would struggle far more with the finances than he would. There was still some time till then, Antares would continue to enjoy the solitude that he had grown so accustomed to. The idea of opening his heart to another was nearly inconceivable for him. Not after what happened with Faye. The princess of the Storm Islands would be the only one he would ever allow in.

  As they prepared to leave the room for a break, Antares toiled with the topic he had been holding on to ever since he saw Cirella again this morning. Admittedly, he was unsure how the council would react and more so intimidated by Casspien’s reaction which he expected was not to be a good one. And yet as they rose, perhaps now was best while they were all still tired and relaxed. Such a simple topic could be slipped out and he could address it later. And so the young King tried his hand at subtlety.

  “One more quick thing before we conclude this morning's meeting.” Antares said leisurely, as he headed for the door.

  They all looked at him quizzically.

  “Since this whole process of selecting a bride seems to be quite complicated.” The young King began, still slowly backing towards the door. “And given I may not survive my meeting with Queen Enrieta. I thought in the interest of everyone involved I would make Samara and Loukas my wards. Cyrus as well too. I am glad we could discuss this.” Antares smiled and immediately went for the door.

  “A moment my king,” Casspien commanded.

  Before Antares could place a hand on the door, it was frozen solid. Antares knew of very few who could wield ice so effortlessly as himself. Unfortunately Casspien was once such a person. With but a wave of his hand the lord regent had completely frozen the door shut with thick ice. The guards on the other side quickly realizing what had happened shouted in return to check on the safety of the king. Meekly Antares responded that everything was alright. The young monarch slowly turned to face an incensed council.

  “Forgive me your excellence, It seems I may be hard of hearing.” Began Casspien, who gazed with a cool eye at Antares. “But did I hear you say you are claiming some street boy you have yet to explain and the children of the man who conspired to have you killed as your wards and heir to the throne?”

  “Actually Samara would be the only heir as she is the oldest of Daimion’s children.” Antares corrected with a boyish smile. “Loukas and Cyrus are more under my protection.”

  Lords Gash, Vashva, and Quellem returned to their seats. Antares was cornered, he looked to the window and was unsure if he would reach it before Casspien froze it. He wanted to avoid having this conversation, for he understood the reservations his council and more specifically his Lord Regent would say but it seemed that he would not be granted such an easy out. He looked to his council for assistance but they all returned a stoic look that even Casspien would have been proud of.

  Casspien pointed at the king's chair and a gust of cold wind blew it back with force.

  “Sit. We are going to have a very long conversation.” The Lord Regent declared.

  That day Antares learned many things. Of those things, the one that stuck with him the longest was Casspien wrath when it came to his eccentricity regarding the throne.