The hallowed halls of Castle Xerxes had stood for thousands of years, and would further stand for thousands more, many would believe. Woven into those walls was deep ancient magic not seen anywhere else in Aurum. This power allowed for all the fantastical things seen throughout the castle. From a courtyard far larger than it should be, to an interior with more rooms and space than the structure would command. But most impressively, below the castle depths passed the dungeons where no light reached, passed the White Rooms where no darkness reached, and carefully passed The Room of Retrospection. What awaited them, the Pit, the royal family's own private training grounds. Carved deep within the interior of the castle. Its cavernous ceiling enveloping the area in a rocky dome that stretched on almost forever. The ground was flat and decorated with boulders and rocks displaced all over. Rich white sand softened an otherwise hard floor. They glittered like diamonds. Near where they descended stood a large building, even as far up as they were, they could see the lights from within, smoke climbed out of the small chimney too. Their once smooth ride was interrupted by the repeated aftershocks felt. Both men turned their attention to the battle below.

  "She seems in a better mood today," Antares quipped.

  "No thanks to you," Casspien shot him an angry look. "Sending her to deal with Bracca? What were you thinking?"

  Antares rolled his eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you?" he grew annoyed at Casspiens insistence of coddling Guinevere. "I needed to know if she was ready."

  Casspien spoke Antares words in unison with him having heard them countless times before. "Yes I know, but there are other ways." He folded his arms. "That was reckless, had Bracca taken the fight seriously-"

  "It would have ended the same," Antares cut him off.

  The platform landed gently and they both walked off. It had been five years since Antares last stepped foot inside this area. He bent down and ran his hand through the sands, each grain a memory claimed by this place. Many of them were painful, taking something from him. To him this place was more akin to a prison, wounds long healed ached all over. The soft smell of blood in the air was familiar, even now he could still see all four of them, locked in a never ending battle, sharpened to the absolute apex. Weapons forged in the defense of Iliad against her enemies, warriors raised for conquest, butcher's taught to slaughter. He shuddered with glee. Antares dusted himself off and rose once more to his feet, breathing in the hot hair, already he began to sweat. Approaching them Guinevere, Ursula and Melina.

  "My king," Guinevere bowed, flustered, the other two followed suit.

  Antares raised his hand, "Gwen, please." he puffed up his cheeks. "Girls I am very pleased to see you all again, it has been far too long." He bowed.

  Ursula and Melina blushed and begged the king to raise his head. Both of them lowered themselves to one knee.

  "My king please, your words are too kind." Ursula spoke softly.

  "She is right my liege, we are undeserving of such kindness." Melina added, her shaking visible.

  They both looked at the ground unable to meet the eyes of their king. Although they had known Antares throughout the entirety of their lives, they still were always in awe. He who stood atop the pinnacle of their people as both a Lord of War and now their king. Even in the old, rich and fractured history of the Stygian people there were only a handful of such beings. And before them stood another.

  "Now now, we are all family, let us talk as such." He waved his hands, ushering them to rise. "Is that not right Casspien?"

  Casspien carried the same blank expression he always had, he turned his attention to Melina. "Sister." He bowed softly.

  "Brother dearest," the black haired knight responded in kind. "It is good to see you."

  All five of them spoke amongst themselves for a moment exchanging pleasantries. The small time they spent here together was the first time in years such a gathering had happened between them. Antares was quick to reminisce the last time he saw Melina and Ursula; they were but young girls on the road to knighthood alongside his sister. Even now seeing her next to Casspien he still struggled to see how they were related, they indeed had all the hallmarks of siblings, a mixture of features of their parents. Casspien resembled their father and Melina their mother. Yet still their temperament differentiated them. One as stoic and unmoving as a mountain, another as vibrant and alive as a raging river. But just as both those things were amazing separately, together, they painted a breathtaking picture, and before him he could not help but smile.

  "I am never one to be ungrateful for your presence," began Guinevere. "But what brings you here brother?"

  "Hightower." Casspien answered.

  The girls stiffened at the name of their greatest failure.

  "I believe the matter is urgent," he continued. "The king needs to be made aware of what the Nephilim are up to on the border."

  "More importantly, I need to know why we have devoted so much to this fruitless endeavor again." An annoyed expression crossed the young king's face.

  Guinevere was aware of her brother's disdain for the town, a place he had no love for. He would sooner annex it than claim it as a domain of his kingdom. Hightower stood at the border between Iliad and Vanaheimr; it acted as a waypoint between the Stygians and the Nephilim. Its location so sought after for it granted whoever dominated it, a clear path of conquest into either kingdom. Centuries of warfare between both realms had left the town now independent. Choosing to be governed by its own rules, where humans, Stygians and Nephilim could live alike. Still, this coalescing of minds for peace did not stop either realm from coveting the prized town. It was also not lost on her that the town's inhabitants were wealthy, evidently so. Bribes were a common practice, and even she was forced to make some herself, the cost of victory growing more expensive than bloody. A knight sent to bring order to the area, acted more as a merchant than a valiant warrior. It sickened her.

  A solemn expression across her face, "What do you want to know?"

  "Everything-" Antares began.

  Casspien raised his hand in the air, "Just a moment." He turned to his king, "Go change."

  Antares raised an eyebrow at his lord regent, "Change?"

  Casspien explained to Antares and the girls their second reason for being here. It had been years since Antares had seen any combat and he thought some light sparring would be beneficial to the young king. Most of his days since he ascended to the throne were spent locked away in his chambers signing papers, it was time his hands were used for more practical matters.

  "I have not worn one of these in ages," remarked Antares returning from the building. "This takes me back to our training days Casspien!"

  He approached dawning royal training attire. The simple pure white attire glowed softly in the light of the cavern. It wrapped tightly around his ankles, otherwise they were loose robes. The top of his attire was a sleeveless garb, his defined arms exposed. His bare feet crossed the ground, the soft texture of sand underneath him.

  "Alright let us get started," Casspien motioned for Antares to come over.

  They gathered near. Casspien stepped forth and planted a heavy foot on the ground. In return the sand began to rumble and shake, their vibrations grew more violent with every shake, a large sand swirl began to form, its size increasing with every second. It continued to expand covering a sizable area. The sand underneath began to give way, white stone becoming more visible. Beneath the sand a large white stone platform began to rise out of the ground. It stood at about three feet tall and glistened brightly in detail.

  "You will spar with Guinevere, the first one to fall off the platform three times loses." He carefully raised three fingers making sure Antares was paying attention. "No powers, I would rather not get another dressing down from Lady Alena because someone accidently throws a spear through the floor."

  "If you had not moved out the way, I would not have missed." Antares grumbled.

  "If I had not moved out of the way, I would have died." Casspien retorted.

  "Oh only for a little while," the king whispered under his breath.

  Even Casspien was not immune to Antares' smile, a small one escaped his lips at the remark of his dearest friend. He too was flooded with memories of their youth in this place. He rarely returned here even though he was confined to the castle the last five years. The memories too painful for him to bear alone. Instead he chose the open space of the outside to hone his mind and his sword. But back down here in the Pit with him again, he felt assured in himself.

  "Alright both of you get on." He motioned them onto the stage. "Melina, Ursula and I will watch from up there." He pointed to an audience section carved into the wall.

  Both Antares and Guinevere nodded and did as he said. The stone was hard underneath his feet, but the smoothness of it was of no doubt. Casspien had crafted a beautiful arena for them, his control over the old powers evident. The three of them left and Antares turned to face Guinevere. Her red hair, wild. She towered over him, her form now more apparent in the training attire she wore. Unlike his own, hers were closer to rags than training attire. Guinevere had always opted for the simpler things, what she wore to train was no different.

  "Wait a minute," Antares lit up, "I believe this will be the first time we have ever sparred!"

  Guinevere let out a small laugh and nodded in acknowledgement. "That it is big brother."

  Antares stretched his arms, loosening himself, "Try not to disappoint me." He took a readied stance.

  She answered in kind, taking a stance of her own. "I would never dare."

  The first blow was struck by Guinevere, Antares barely blocked it. Her punch enough to lift him off the ground. She did not let him register the pain coming from his forearms before she followed up with several swift kicks to his head. Using his burning forearms he carefully dodged each strike, still they pushed him near the edge. Guinevere closed the distance, her relentlessness overwhelming her brother. As she stepped within reach, a cold chill ran down her spine stopping her in her tracks. She pulled back instinctually creating space between her and Antares.

  Antares rubbed his aching forearms, "You hit a lot harder than you look." he chuckled.

  His casual tone unsettled her. She focused, looking for the slightest reaction from him. Even though it had been five years since Antares last faced any meaningful combat, she knew her brother was still far stronger than her. Faster too. His speed and agility were incomparable and was renowned across Aurum. But this was not a contest of speed, nor was the stage large enough to utilize such speed effectively. She moved in ready to continue her barrage.

  Still Antares matched every blow she gave. Easily studying her moves and countering with the necessary response. Her frustration grew not with his resolute defense, but his desire not to hit her back. The young king chose a defensive approach. Just like the others he underestimated her, he didn't see her as a threat. She would show him. Her attacks became wilder, heavier, and a smile escaped Antares' face. A wild left was thrown by Guinevere that Antares quickly side stepped, he anticipated that the force of the attack would move her forward and his assessment was correct. Before she could react, Antares extended his right leg, swiping at Guinevere's feet. This threw her in the air , she looked to steady herself, realizing too late that in her wild attacks, Antares had defended her into a corner. She had little room to maneuver but still she found room to land, and Antares was waiting for her. He masked three kicks in a feint that she reacted to, opening herself for a firm hit to the gut, knocking her off the stage.

  "You need to stop getting so worked up when you fight," Antares extended his hand. "I am surprised you still struggle with that."

  An embarrassed Guinevere ignored his hand and stood up by herself. "Let us go again."

  A confused Antares, nodded along and returned to the center with her.

  Guinevere slowed her breathing and steadied herself. She once more took on her fighting stance. She cleared her head, focused on the task, and removed all unnecessary thoughts; of Bracca, of the families of lord Aldios and Omiros. She focused on the man in front of her, her brother, her king. Five years had passed since their last meeting, she would show him how much she had improved.

  "Tell me about Hightower," Antares asked.

  The question caught Guinevere off guard. It was just the opening Antares needed, throwing sand in her face. It stung her eyes and as she tried to protest she felt his presence right up next to her. She guarded her organs and her head, but still the king found a way to strike her where it hurt the most. The continuous strikes carried with it searing pain, this was the first time Guinevere experienced punches from Antares. She remarked at the strength of his blows and still even she knew this was not the full strength of his fists, let alone had they been coated in mana.

  "That is an honor less attack brother!" she roared out, doing her best to block.

  "Expecting honor from your enemy is a foolish way to die." Antares kicked her in the stomach, before landing another devastating kick on her rib sending her flying towards the edge sprawled on the floor. "Again, tell me about Hightower."

  Guinevere gasped for air, clutching her side. Since the duel started she had been strung along by Antares, even when she led with an initial flurry, it was all under his control. She gritted her teeth, embarrassment turning to shame. Blood dripped from her mouth and stained the white stone floor. Just like Hightower, she thought. The sensation of helplessness, of misdirection, vicious power, she felt it before, when she was there, when she faced her.

  Guinevere wiped the blood from her mouth and got to her knees. "Hightower..." she began, "Hightower is irrelevant. Her, it is about her, it has always been about her."

  Antares lowered his arms, satisfied with his sister's renewed focus, "Who?"

  She stood up, prepared to continue the fight, this time taking an even more aggressive stance. Antares could tell there was a calmness to her now. Guinevere had always been dominated by her brashness, the same as Typhon he thought. Perhaps it was something to do with the giant's blood that flowed through their veins. Nevertheless Antares had always kept an eye on Guinevere's training and he knew her temperament held her back amongst other things. He hoped this sparring session would double as a learning opportunity for her too.

  "Her name is Enrieta Zxyphor. The current Queen of the Nephilim," she began to chuckle. "In many ways she reminds me of you."

  Antares carried an expressionless face. But just for a moment, a mere second, he reacted to the name and that was enough for Guinevere to have an opening; and she took it. She slammed her fist into the stone below, sending debris everywhere. This unbalanced Antares slightly, but it was enough for her. As the debris fell she grabbed pieces of stone and threw them at him. They reached him quickly, but she reached him even faster. She threw precise blows, moving him into the paths of the incoming debris. Guinevere forced him to decide between blocking her heavy punches or the debris she moved him into the path of. Antares did both. To the disbelief of Guinevere, Antares both caught the debris and parried her attacks, using a combination of acrobatic dodges and backflips. His dexterity was on full display. He finished with a double feint mid air kick that knocked her off the platform with authority. Antares landed back on the ground carefully, juggling the debris in one hand.

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  "Good, very good." He acknowledged her, "Using your environment. Now you're taking this seriously."

  The sand did nothing else but soften her landing. She had been knocked off twice now by him. Both times she believed victory was hers, both times she was left defeated. Much like her constant clashes with Enrieta over the last five years. Their battles always ended in stalemates, neither army ever able to truly outdo the other. But to Guinevere each clash felt as though it ended in her defeat, she would always lose some ground, never enough to notice outright. But over time.

  "Tell me more about this Enrieta," Antares sat on the stone platform. "Let us talk for a moment."

  Guinevere sat up, "She is cruel, vindictive, violent and a bitch." She brushed sand off her hair, "Ruthless too."

  "And this is who I remind you of?" Antares' shoulders dropped.

  Guinevere smiled, "You did not let me finish." She examined her hands, remembering the sensation of battle. "Outside of you, I don't know anyone who has a better aptitude for war. Her command of the battlefield is strong and overreaching. She has studied the ways of combat, you can see that, but it is the way she sees her army as an extension of herself. Willing and able to sacrifice where able for victory. Everyone has called the last five years a small conflict. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. At the rate we are going, things are teetering on all out war."

  "I see this Enrieta has left quite the impression on you," Antares rubbed his chin. "It sounds more like you admire her than see her as an adversary."

  Guinevere shook her head, "No, I do not think I admire her, I think it is fear." She rubbed her hands together, "When I looked into her ruby eyes, they were dead, but it felt like there was something else in there looking back at me."

  "Oh you have fought her?"

  "Plenty of times," she began. "She is strong. A lot stronger than I thought. She is deserving of the title of Queen of the Nephilim. She is not one to be taken lightly. Her blood manipulation is lethal, even for a Nephilim." Guinevere reflexively grabbed at her left shoulder, a forgotten wound aching.

  Antares mused for a moment, taking in all that Guinevere said. Enrieta Zxyphor was not a name that he knew too well. His understanding of the Nephilim was once thorough. But now in his absence, his knowledge of the workings of them and by extension the rest of Aurum started and stopped at the end of the wine cup, as he lived his day to day life in drunken stupor. But house Zxyphor was an ancient name, with well known ties stretching back thousands of years. What he could remember was that house Zxyphor was the far more reasonable house of the three great houses of Vanaheimr, but still just as violent.

  He had hoped to calmly and amicably recall Guinevere and her forces from the battle at Hightower. He knew nothing of Enrieta and wondered what she was like. But Guinevere had drawn similarities between them, that unnerved Antares. If they were similar that meant she was just as dangerous. Removing his soldiers from Hightower may prove to be far more challenging than Antares anticipated. As his mind probed around Enrieta, a memory he forcibly repressed came about, an ugly unwanted memory. In that moment he remembered another Zxyphor that he had heard the name of, and wondered to himself surely she would have known of him, Adelard Zxyphor.

  "Is something the matter?" Guinevere rose to her feet. "You have a worried look."

  Antares quickly dawned a smile, "Oh no it is nothing please continue." he extended a hand helping her up sit next to him.

  "I do not know what she is really after." Guinevere looked out across the Pit, the white sand stretching on. "But I know she is waiting for someone."

  "And who might that be?"

  She turned to look at him, with a worried look in her eyes, "You. I think she has been waiting for you." She had not meant to say this out loud, but she could not help but share her concerns with him. Now that she had the chance.

  Antares patted her on the back, "Do not worry little Guinevere, everything will be fine." His reassurance steadily calmed her down. "I am sure Queen Enrieta is just as willing as I am to end this conflict over Hightower."

  "Does that mean you are willing to parlay?" Guinevere asked, more shocked than anything.

  The king nodded, sure of himself. "Of course, I would very much like to get the grimoires back without spilling blood. A simple conversation with her should not hurt."

  They both rose to their feet, prepared for the third bout of their spar. Antares had much to think about, although he did not know of what was happening at Hightower over his long absence. Even in his exile some information still reached his ears. Total war with the Nephilim right now would be unwise. He still had not fully grasped the strength of his complete army and he was unaware of who might use the chaos to further their own agendas. Every move he made had to be precise, from a meeting he would judge how much a threat Enrieta Zxyphor would be. First he would have to see if she would be willing to meet with the king of her people's former slave masters, of her eternal enemies.

  Guinevere turned to face him. Her first two attempts unsatisfactory. She grasped the edges of the lesson her brother was teaching her but she still did not see it clearly. There were many things she lacked, but everyday she continued to hone her skills ironing out every fault. She would do so here today, now against him. She entered a lowered stance, putting one leg in front of the other. Her demeanor far calmer than earlier. She slowly approached her brother who also lowered his stance. She studied him, absorbing everything, his cadence, his rhythmic breathing, the manner in which his eyes moved. She focused everything on his presence removing the outside. She would not allow herself to lose him again, if she could not track him through his bloodlust, she would track him with her eyes. Guinevere stopped in her tracks. Her eyes wide. Antares smiled.

  "I am surprised it took you this long to figure it out," he chided her.

  She looked away in embarrassment, she would later chastise herself for being so oblivious. The nature of her constant defeat now clear to her. While she attacked him with ruthless desire and bloodlust, Antares did not respond in kind. Throughout the first two rounds, he had been on the defensive, waiting and biding his time. Free of bloodlust. In her wrath she bared her fangs, covering herself in her own rage. Antares would slip into it, hiding from her vision, striking where she could not see. For as long as she threw strikes with the intention of violence, she would continue to struggle to see him.

  "This is how you managed to get around Bracca. I take it?" he continued. "It is much easier to suppress your bloodlust when you need it most, than voluntarily. At least that is what I have heard."

  Her raised eyebrows expressed a moment of surprise at his words.

  Antares smiled, "I read the Akashic Records, when you all returned," he began, "They are very meticulous with all they see."

  She disliked talking about the Akashic, she detested everything about them. From their appearance and demeanor, to their cursed eyes and the magical powers behind them. She hated it all, they transcribed all they saw, down to the personal thoughts and feelings of those present. She remembered the first time she ever saw one of their scrolls. The words written with such conviction, such certainty as though they knew the outcome before even she did, despite it being her life. She felt naked in front of Antares, who himself had the eyes of an Akashic.

  "So, have you read all the records?" she asked.

  "I have."

  "You saw what Azariah did?"

  "I did," he said.

  "And you have nothing to say?"

  Antares thought about it for a moment. His eyes rolled around in contemplation, finally settling on Guinevere, "Not Particularly."

  Guinevere refrained from making anymore comments, she could see it would be pointless. She resumed her stance with renewed venom. And Antares responded in kind. As she approached, she caught herself once more losing herself in her bloodlust. She almost allowed herself to be swept up in her brother's games. It would be different this time, she slowed her breathing, cleared her head and steadied herself. She would hold no violence in her fists. No blood needed to be spilt.

  The first to strike was Antares, a more aggressive approach was taken. He continued with a series of blows that each managed to find their mark on Guinevere. But she did not panic, for the first time since they fought, she could finally see Antares. It was far easier to think when she only had to deal with the fact that she could not block his punches. Not being able to see him was a death sentence, but that was not the case anymore. She smiled. She leapt backwards trying to create distance but Antares would not let her. He closed the space within seconds. His barrage of blows increased in speed and power. Yet Guinevere did not panic, instead she continued to count and wait. The seconds stretched on for days but finally upon the count she was waiting for, she struck.

  As a young Lord of War he had already experienced enough battles to last him a lifetime. He had battled foes he seldom thought he could defeat and foes he thought to be above. All of them had left their mark on him, but amongst them very few offered to match the blow Guinevere had just given straight to his chest. The strike was enough to shock his system thoroughly, for a mere moment. But that was all Guinevere needed. Antares fell to one knee, clutching his chest. He looked up ready to congratulate her, but with venomous speed, leaving a trail of broken ground in her wake. She planted her knee straight into his face, knocking him back.

  With renewed precision she mounted him and continued to deliver repeated blows to his guarded face. For the first time since they started sparring, Guinevere had taken the upper hand. A smile crossed her face. She would break her brother's guard and force him to yield. This would prove to him and Casspien who watched far away that she was ready, that she could be trusted. Hightower was not lost, she did not fail.

  Although Guinevere had executed a precise maneuver in toppling her brother, her lack of focus upon mounting him would have devastating consequences. Upon hooking his legs around her neck, in that split moment Guinevere learned two important things. The first being her brother was far more flexible than she thought, his dexterity beyond even their people's standards. Secondly, she learned to never let her mind wander in battle, for this time it meant defeat, but next time it could mean something much worse.

  He threw her off with such force she was sent near the edge of the platform. She regained her footing, moving away from it. She turned to look back at Antares who had slowly risen to his feet. She prepared for his coming barrage but it did not come. He took one step. And with it Guinevere felt herself sink, deep within. The sensation was foreign to her, much of her childhood was spent at the castle, but in the summer months when the flowers and trees were in full bloom, she along with Melina and Ursula and her mother too, would go to one of the many royal castles scattered throughout Iliad for a few days. There the young princess would often swim in the lake by the castle, and she would swim as deep as she could and see how long she could hold her breath.

  Guinevere felt as she did back then, but the burning sensation in her lungs was different, it was new. Fear creeped around her vision. She strained her eyes to push it away, looking around trying to find something to hold on to. Her vision turned to her brother. Antares took another step. Such menacing aura poured from him. Guinevere had fought in battles where death was mere inches away, where the intensity of battle brought forth such strong emotions that they overwhelmed everything. But what she felt coming from her brother was something worse, something full of hatred. And such a powerful presence was aimed directly at her. She felt it through her body deep into her bones, such suffocating bloodlust.

  "I win!" Antares smiled.

  And just as the malevolent nature of his look appeared it disappeared. Guinevere breathed out, gasping for air. The rush of fresh air into her lungs made her cough. She bent over steadying herself. Her hands still shaken as the sensation rattled itself throughout her body. She had never felt such hatred, such a paralyzing sense of death and destruction, a desire to annihilate completely. And to think it came from her brother. She looked up at him annoyed.

  "I-it is not over," she struggled to get the words out, breathing still hampered. "You have not even attacked."

  Antares triumphantly pointed down and Guinevere followed his gaze. She gritted her teeth in shock, not only was she not on the platform she was several feet away from it. In the face of crushing danger, her body reflexively moved her out of harm's way. Never in all her years of combat had she ever experienced such a disgraceful act she thought. As a knight and general to be so moved by fear to retreat involuntarily, she lowered her head in shame. To her this was the worst possible way she could have lost, she fought to hold back tears.

  Antares approached the edge of the platform and squatted, "Oh come on! You did very well-" Suddenly a stone hit the young king's head sending him recoiling in pain.

  "You are a cheat and a sore loser." Began Casspien, followed by Ursula and Melina who rushed to Guinevere. "I specifically said no powers."

  Antares recovered from the attack by his lord regent. The blow by the small rock to his head stung greatly. Even as he saw them approaching, Casspien's movements were so slight he couldn't even notice when he threw the rock. The blow by Guinevere seemed to have done more damage than he thought. Its effects still running amok within him.

  "I did not use any powers!" Antares yelled back, rubbing his forehead. "That was a technique that is different."

  Casspien placed his hands on his hips unimpressed with his king's answer. "Hm yes interesting." he began, "Remind us again where did you learn that technique?"

  Guinevere looked at Casspien and then quizzically at Antares who froze up. She too had become curious in her embarrassment to know where he learned such a technique. It was nothing like the bloodlust of war and battle she was accustomed to, this was different, something deeper and violent than all of that.

  "We are waiting, king of Iliad." Casspien's tone was flat and yet Antares could sense him mocking him. "Please, we are curious."

  Antares chuckled to himself, "Well you see." he continued hesitantly, "My dear late father, in his infinite wisdom, sought to test my strength long ago. I may have perhaps picked up a few things from him."

  Antares didn't make eye contact with any of them, instead electing to look away half haphazardly laughing. Guinevere was unsure why he was acting like this. Admittedly she was jealous that their father not only sparred with him but in such a rare event he also shared knowledge about his style of fighting. Something not seen in decades.

  "Ahh the great late king Barranagan?" Casspien narrowed his eyebrows. "The same late great king, the legends say, took decades to master his techniques? That you learned from only one duel?"

  Guinevere's eyes widened and she rose to her feet. She looked at Casspien and looked back to Antares who was now the focus of his sister's ire.

  "You cheated!" She yelled, approaching him as she shook his head in defense. " Yes you cheated! You used your Akashic Eyes, that is cheating!"

  "No I did not." The king said in weak defense. "I cannot even turn the Akashic Eyes off if I wanted to. Should I have fought blindfolded?. Besides, father is the one who used the technique in front of me."

  Guinevere's face lit up, "Ah ha! So you did steal it from father!" Guinevere turned to Casspien and the others, "This is my victory."

  Ursula, Melina and Casspien nodded in Agreement, "It is." Casspien said.

  "Nevertheless," Casspien patted Guinevere on the back. "It was still an impressive showing, the speed in which you improve is admirable." she blushed embarrassingly.

  She was showered with praise from both the lord regent and her king. Long had she wanted to be recognized by her brother, someone she held in such regard. What he represented for her was everything she saw her people to be, the elegance, the calmness, the beauty. She swore to herself that she would serve him just and true. It was all she ever wanted.

  Days such as this were rare within castle Xerxes, where such jovial moments could be had. They all recognized how long it had been since they gathered like this, all of them much older, changed by the ever moving hands of Aurum, leaving her mark on all of them. While they were all deep in conversation, Lady Alena approached with the children in tow.

  "Of course I would find you here, shunning your duties," Lady Alena groaned.

  "M-Mother!" Antares bolted up, "What brings you and the children down here?"

  She raised a hand defiantly, "I will deal with you later." A chill ran down Antares' spine, she turned her attention to Casspien, " And you, I expected this from him, but not you."

  Antares began to protest, but smartly stopped himself from making any further mistakes. Lady Alena chastised them all for neglecting their duties for the day. As much as they tried to take it seriously, smiles could not help but cross their faces. Much of what was happening to them reminded them so much of their youth. Even Lady Alena herself, found her annoyance dissipating the longer she spoke, noting to herself that she had not seen them all like this before in years.

  "Now with that done," dusting herself off, "Samara, Lukas, stay with lord Casspien. He shall entertain you my darlings." Casspien knew better than to protest, her words held no room for comment. "I need to speak to your uncle Antares."

  Both children nodded meekly, already somewhat tired. Much of the day was pleasant, they were usually made to study all day. But their grandmother had better plans. Though the children did know the true reason of their excursion, they feigned ignorance, even as young as they were, they understood the ways of their home. They moved over to Casspien and he gave them the same stoic expression he carried and they returned one in kind.

  "Can you teach me how to fight?" asked Lukas.

  "No," responded Casspien.

  Guinevere giggled, "Do not think you escape this unscathed." Lady Alena shot her eldest daughter a look. "Henceforth as long as you remain in this castle I will see you at Agincourt once a day young lady. All of you." she said looking at Ursula and Melina too, who laughed half haphazardly.

  "But Mother!" Guinevere began.

  "I will not hear it," she shook her head in protest. "You elected to not attend your brother's crowning event. Need I remind you of the gravity of that decision. I will not have it. You will attend, converse and talk about matters of the state with the other nobles. Show them that all is well."

  Lady Alena turned around ready to leave, "I continue to be dismayed by your lack of care for what goes on within your own court, King Antares. Am I the only one that still cares about this family's image?" Their heads hung slightly, the scolding working.

  She motioned for Antares to follow and the young king did. He excused himself by greeting his niece and nephew who gave him warm smiles. He bothered not to change, despite his sparring tire soaked with his blood. He did not want to do anything that could potentially further annoy Lady Alena. They trudged on like that in silence for a while, climbing on to the platform leaving the Pit. He was curious to know where they were going but chose to simply just do as she asked.