Zenith Morrow
Dark Lord's Castle

Heavy grey spread across the sky, bringing with it the sweet scent of fresh rain while it blotted out the man lights of the stars though the moon continued to shine through for the young man to see from where he stood upon the very tallest spire of his masters castle. He was the only one of any of the servants that could get this high off the ground without falling to Earth to make a terrible mess, and the only who could stand upon the single spike as he did now watching the sky and listening for anything he would not recognize. One foot raised slightly he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to spread further out, closer to the kingdom that now shared in the rain that was just arriving here beneath the mountains and beside the cliff. Jaquen was not far away, tormenting a human village not too far from the Church, a small group of the Undead Army he led with him to hold down the women and children as he slowly tore apart their lovers and brought them back to repeat the process on them. Zenith had never trusted this one, he was difficult to read and there was little that could cause the necromancer pain after the years of tormenting himself and the Legion to perfect the process. He worked with them, not for Alastor, as both the Dark Lord and the man who served him were completely aware that if Jaquen chose he could easily overthrow them and do it himself; but Jaquen needed a way in and only Zenith could provide that, because skeletons cannot fly and they have the intelligence to move and fight.

After this war was done he would have to kill Jaquen, he was perfectly aware of that and it did not bother him to know it; he cared not for anyone but his master.

Violet flickered into existence while the man blinked open his eyes to stare up at the darkening sky again, the first drops of rain finally falling upon his face though he did not move from the last he stood. Wings spread wide as the deep clouds, ink black against the pale darkness and difficult to see from far away. Zenith preferred dark wings and clothes, given his resurrection and his purpose now, light colours did not suit his way of current life. He looked passed the cloud cover while the heavy pattering upon the roof of the castle grew sdeadily louder, allowing his eyes to slip passed the dense covering to come out above the darkness where the moon and stars still cast an eary glow upon the sky. The rain would not last long, but there would be much more of it then there had been the last time, but rain slowed down human activity and if the humans were slow then they could act. Only every upon his masters orders.

He stood watch, alone and easy to miss or forget about while he stood there, a single sentry while the others ducked beneath shelter. Rain matted and plastered dark hair to his face an next, the black robe he wore sticking to his long and thin body, while his wings shrugged off the wetness without stain for he hated his wings getting wet when he was certain he would need to fly again soon. It was getting late and many inside were already sleeping, few servants still awake to do their jobs at night and the few guards awake tiring before they would switch shifts at the appointed time. He was aware of every passive thought within the known world, though there would never be any within the Ridge and those in the human kingdom were doing little thinking of war at the time. He was unaware though, if his Master would call for him before morning, or if one of the other Seven would look for the eldest of them all, and the only one who would kill them if Alastor so ordered it.

Cleo Vauch
Lightkeep

tap
tap
tap
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A young man tapped his foot impatiently, keeping guard in the Lightkeep as he was told to do. This young man, of course, was none other than Cleo Vauch. What the young man didn't understand was why he was even guarding the lightkeep in the first place. He was a Kingsguard for gods' sake! Wouldn't it be wiser to let him actually guard the royal family where ever the royal family was at? He sighed. The boy didn't understand, but was just following orders given by his superiors.
And so the boy waited, and waited, and waited, for anything to happen. Anything at all. He admitted, he thought that working as a kingsguard would be much more satisfying and adventurous, but felt bored. Where was the action? The fighting? He had much more adventures when he was a theif! Shouldn't this life be even more exciting than the last? If so..Why wasn't it? Did he do something wrong?

'Stop thinking like that, Cleo! This is the better life! Food, shelter,friends..Well, not so much 'friends' as comrades and superiors. But at least I'm not alone!' Cleo thought, trying to be optimistic about the whole ordeal. The kingsguard did see his potential that one day, so there has to be a reason for his being there! He just had to wait. And wait. And..wait. This made him frown. The boy hated waiting, almost as much as he hated stupid orders, like waiting around the Lightkeep on guard. What was there to be guarding, exactly? Was there some sort of invisible force waiting to be defeated? Cleo snorted at the thought, as he continued to wait, much to his displeasure.

Hero Sura
Lightkeep

Hero yawned lightly as he made his way through the mostly empty halls of the Lightkeep. He was supposed to be sleeping right now, but he simply couldn't tonight. It wasn't really a common occurrence for him to be up this late- he wondered if that was an omen. But no matter, he knew how to solve his restlessness. Some bread, and a view of the stars. He made his way to the kitchen as silently as possible and picked up one of today's -or, was it really yesterday's?- leftover loaves. In his hand it felt surprisingly cold, so he decided to warm it up a little. He sucked in some air, before lightly letting out a small flame to heat the bread up. He may have been an inhuman, but at least he could heat food any time he wanted.

Once his meal was sufficiently heated, he once again began his trek through Lightkeep, this time trying to make his way to somewhere outside. The gentle wind and twinkling stars would ease his soul. He had to be wary not to fall asleep outside this time though, it littered his pants with grass stains. On his way to the garden, he crossed paths with an attractive man who, if he remembered correctly, was in the Kingsguard. Seeing as Hero was planning on joining them one day, he wanted to get to know what it was like to be a member. Asking the effeminate man about his experience would be the easiest way, probably. Hero cleared his throat and went up to the Knight. "You seem like you're having fun." He quipped, noticing the impatient foot tapping of the defender. "This all you do in the Kingsguard?" He asked, curious as to why they would assign a member of such an important organization such a menial job. Was he new? Had Hero been misremembering who the man was?

Cleo Vauch
Lightkeep

As he was waiting, and waiting, and waiting for something to happen, someone approached Cleo.
"You seem like you're having fun." He quipped, noticing the impatient foot tapping of the defender. "This all you do in the Kingsguard?" The boy had asked. Cleo sighed and moved his black hair out of his eyes.
"No, its not all we do. We protect the royal family of course. My superior just wants me to be on guard for the night is all. But gods damn is it fucking boring. Nothing is happening and everyone is asleep!" He frowned. But then turned his attention on the boy."Well, ALMOST everyone. What the fuck are you doing up?" He asked, eyeing the boy suspiciously."Were you stealing or something?" He asked, mentally slapping himself.
'Yes cleo, of course someone is just gonna up and confess to a godsdamn crime.' He thought sarcastically.

But, he was wondering what the guy was doing outside at such a late hour. It was rather suspicious. To Cleo, at least."You really shouldn't be out here so late at night, you know. Things could be lurking around every corner waiting at the chance to kill you. And that doesn't really sound like a good time to me." He said, unsheathing his sword and leaning on it like it was a cane.

Alastor Daeva
Dark Lord's Castle

It was late already. The servants put off the candles as they retreated, leaving the castle in an almost absolute darkness. No sound could be heard, other than the storm raging outside.

He should retreat as well. But he, the Master of the castle, wouldn't leave his study before one of his guards came to give him an exhaustive report of all the events of the day. He wouldn't be able to rest until he knew the exact position of the enemy army, and until he had made sure that all his soldiers were ready for any possible attack. If anything were to happen, it definitely wouldn't catch him unguarded. The Lord liked to be in control of every situation. Nothing stressed him more than not being able to predict was going to happen next. He needed to know everybody else's position and next move. Even in his own castle, everything had its order, everything responded to a certain logic. Nothing was there without a reason.

A lightning illuminated the sky, and two big dogs barked fiercely until their Master ordered them to calm down. Then they just lay at his feet, still growling at the smallest noise. They would protect their Master. They were loyal only to him. And he valued that. Alastor didn't have many people who would give their lives for him or for his ideals. Many of his followers only yearned for what he could offer them; the prize of the victory. Women, wealth, power... But he didn't care. He had a goal to fulfill, and those of a weak will were nothing but pawns to be sacrificed. Though he wouldn't betray those he trusted. But all that didn't matter right now. He was too tired to think about such things, he just wanted to retreat to his chamber already.

The man got up from his seat and walked around the room while he waited for someone to show up. He was growing impatient, and it was better not to make the Master wait.

Hero Sura
Lightkeep

Hero listened with well masked interest as the knight described his situation.

"No, its not all we do. We protect the royal family of course. My superior just wants me to be on guard for the night is all. But gods damn is it fucking boring. Nothing is happening and everyone is asleep!" The man said, obvious disappointment laden in his voice. But then he turned his attention to Hero, a doubtful look on his face. He probed Hero, asking why he was up, if he was a thief. Hero sighed and face palmed, while shaking his head, but allowed his 'friend' to continue. He proceeded to threaten Hero, or at least that was what he got out of the conversation. Hero gave the guard a look of pure unbridled sarcastic ego.

"Yeah, I stole my bread from my kitchen." He explained. Was it not common knowledge that he was the Head Royal Chef now? Sure he was young, but so was Spoony. He was begining to question this guard's position. "Oh, and I can take care of myself." He said, before turning around and blowing some light flames at the wall opposite of the unfriendly and kinda vulgar person he was aiming to prove wrong.

"Anyways, I'll be taking my leave." Hero said, quickly walking away from the guard and resuming his journey to the garden. After a few more minutes of going down halls, he made his way to a balcony. It wasn't exactly the garden, but it gave him a good view, so he decided he'd stop there. He gazed up at the bright sky before taking a bite of the bread. It wasn't particularly warm anymore, and he debated with himself about warming it up. He kinda felt he was abusing his power. He had the ability to breath fire, and he was using it to cook bread? He huffed silently, before breathing fire onto the bread. If he was cursed with his new form, than he was going to use his powers any way he wanted!

Unfortunately, he had been a bit enthusiastic with his breath, and fried the loaf beyond edibility. With an angry sigh, he tossed the burnt food off the balcony, and again looked up. He just wasn't feeling himself, tonight. He decided after a little bit more relaxation, he'd retire to his room. He hoped he'd feel a bit better tomorrow.

Dark Lord's Castle

Lucifer looked out of a window and sighed. Another wet night - definitely not conditions to travel.

He should be in bed. He had been planning on going to bed. He was even dressed in his pyjamas, had cleaned his teeth and washed his face, all ready just to dive under the covers and drift off. But he couldn't possibly sleep now. He was thinking about too much, or rather, about one thing in extreme detail.

"Are you okay, big guy?" A familiar voice asked. "You're acting even more moody than usual"

Lucifer mustered up a weak smile. "Not really. I've been thinking about the letter Khosh sent me."

"The one about the...

"Aye... that's the one.

There was a bit of silence for a while as Lucifer gathered his thoughts. When he was ready, he went for a walk around the castle as he spoke "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, you know? Throwing my lot in with Alastor and the Seven. And then I get letters like that and I realise what I'm fighting for. I've nothing against Lionfury... but he's just so ineffective. And it doesn't seem like Alastor is much better.

"Don't let Zenith hear you talking like that. He'll think you're being insubordinate."

"That's the problem with this war. People are taking advantage of it. Costs go through the roof, criminals run rampant and here we are, in a big fancy castle, completely oblivious to the common man's plight"

"Except you." Empusa noted dryly.

"I just want the Kingdom to be better after the war ends than before. But the damage might have been too much already and I'm scared in case we can't fix it.

"But at least Alastor is trying, right, big guy?"

"Aye. And that's why I chose him over Lionfury. At the very least, he's bloody doing something. I might not agree with him, but he's our best hope."

It was as if saying it rammed it home. Alastor Daeva, the best hope for humanity. It was a strange notion - the Dark Lord seemed too aloof and lacked the empathy to govern justly. So why had he joined his cause with such vigour? No promise of gold or power could ever make him abandon his ideals. The people who aided Alastor were either cruel, selfish or in thrall to him. He was the only one, he realised, who was helping the Other Side because he genuinely thought they were a force for good. And maybe they were - maybe their idea of holding on to power was to make the common man dependent on them and thankful, rather than to cruelly oppress him. A naive hope, perhaps, but one that Lucifer held on to dearly. Lionfury represented things staying the same. Change of any kind was worth a shot.

Before long, Lucifer realised he had no idea where he was going. It was a big castle and he wasn't quite used to it yet. Tired and lost, he sat down and curled up into a ball to keep warm, praying that someone would come along and see him before it got really dark.

Sam Spark
Small farm outside Lightkeep

A farmer was at a table with his wife and another man. There wasn't any talking. The dining trio looked at eachother nervously, except for the mysterious man, who just seemed to enjoy his meal. After they finished their diner, they all stood up, and the man said: "It's okay, guys. Everything is going to be fine as long as you do as I say. You are excellent hosts to be honest. I might even keep you alive." When he said the last words, he got a small grin on his face. He left the house and walked into the barn wich was outside. The farmer's wife started to cry, and the farmer took her in his arms.

Later that night, when the two were in their room, they were in a heated discussion. "But John, how long is this going to last? We are giving shelter to a killer!" "I don't know, Mary, but we have to. If we don't, he and the rest of them are going to kill us! And it's not like a miracle is going to happen." "I know, John, but-" The woman was interupted by their window suddenly closing. The weird part about this was that it wasn't open to begin with. The farmer walked towards the window, and noticed an envelope at the sill. He looked at his wife, not knowing what to do. The wife looked at it as well, paralyzed by fear. The farmer slowly opened the envelope, and pulled out a letter and a key.



The farmer got mad. "I am not buying this. Why would one of the King's men help us? This is a trick from that damn spy!" He walked out of his house straight to the barn, through the rain. He opened the barn, and said: "What does this-" He was cut short by a deadless body of the man from earlier laying dead in a pool of blood next to his straw bed. He was terrified at first, but then smiled. He ran back to his house, back to his wife, hugged her and said: "Pack your bags. We have been freed!"

What happened meanwhile, at the same farm.

It was dark. It rained. The Dark Lord's spy layed down on his bed of straw. He was about to fall asleep when he suddenly felt something sharp at his throat. He opened his eyes, to face a masked man. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you." The spy tried to grab for something at his belt, but only could find air. The masked man held up a simple dagger. "Looking for this?" He asked, while throwing it towards the other end of the room. "You fool! By killing me, you are becoming just like me! A monster!" The masked man seemed to chuckle, even though it was hard to see with the mask on. "I'm a monster, I know..." Then, it became black before the eyes of the spy. "...but at least I'm a monster with a conscience."

Sam sneaked out of the barn. He made his way stealthly to one of the windows of the main house. He could hear the couple arguing inside. He opened the window without a sound, laid down an envelope on the sill, then closed the window, making sure to make some noise. He hid himself then. Sooner then he expected, he saw the farmer coming out of the house and making his way to the barn. A couple of seconds later, he saw him going back to his house again. That was his call. He made his way towards the barn, picked up the body and made his way to the trees nearby. There, he had a horse whaiting for him. He put the body on the back of the horse, then got on it himself. He rode off towards the castle. He would dump the body on the way at a jar full of acid he hid somewhere. He always did this with most of his bodies, as he didn't want the Dark Lord to use them against him. He then looked at his dagger. He noticed it was getting blunt when he ended the spy's life. He should get it sharpened at the blacksmith later. For now, he just needed to go back to Lightkeep, to inform either one of the Kingsguard or the King personally about the succes of his mission.

Spoony

Spoony had been up late working on sharpening various weapons she had been tasked to sharpen by the royal guard. Very few of them ever asked her for a new weapon as they doubted her ability due to her being a woman. Yet she always proved them wrong by sharpening the blades to the point where they were even sharper than when they were first forged. She finished her last spear sharpening for the night finally and wiped her head. She had almost finished Hero's weapon as well, she just needed his take on the balance of it and where she needs to improve it. She had been working on this weapon in secret as she had seen some of Hero's weapons, they were dull and she had a feeling that a new weapon all togeather would be great for him. The weapon she had been working on though wasn't just any weapon. It was something called a knork, it was have knife and half fork.

Spoony then headed out towards the garden for a little break before bed. The rain was light enough that it didn't break her form, no one would notice that she was a slime, only in heavy hurricane like weather would her form be broken and she would revert back to her slime form. Though she couldn't let that happen. Being made fun of for not being human was something she didn't want to relive.

As Spoony entered the gardens she noticed Hero out as well, it was strange for him to be up so late. "Hero! What are you doing out so late at night?" Spoony asked him as she walked towards him in her normal cheerful manner. While she did care about her appearance she didn't care about how she acted in public.

Lance

Lance had been in the castle that night. He was rummaging through some of the discarded bodies that were brought back from his recent attack on a tavern. He was working on making his newest grunt and needed quite a few parts for this one. He had been working on this grunt for a few weeks now and it was almost done. He would call this one a masterpeice and knew that Alastor would be pleased with having such a giant on their side.

Lance had it's arm mad out of multiple arms, it's blade was some crude metal he had plundered from some dwarves recently. It also had several layers of skin on it to make it far more resistant to attacks. Though there was a weak spot on the head as he couldn't add to much skin to it otherwise he would block all of the senses on it. Cerby was knawing on one of the bones nearby as Lance did his work. Two of Cerbies heads were fighting over some of the bones, though in the end of the fight they just shared it after realizing that it all goes to one stomach. Cerby wasn't really meant for battle, atleast not yet, give him a few years of growing and would be a ferocious beast, but for now he was just a slobbering little puppy.

Quay Lionfury
Lighteep

Just after midnight, Quay Lionfury squatted beneath vaulted ceiling of his solar and stuffed and old leather backpack with clothes that did not belong to him.

Miniature paintings by the Trances masters hung from the walls, alive in swirls of color and thick-textured paint. Doors to his richly apportioned apartments stood ajar to his eight and left. The entrance of his balcony was open, and through it he could see the thick grey clouds the signified the coming of rain.

The clothing at his fingertips were drap, think, woolen. Felt course against his skin compared to the silk and cotton to which he was used to.

Next to Quay, a red-haired, freckle-faced five-year-old stood and watched him pack.

"You can help if you want." Quay said, and the little Colin Galeni, wearing the green doublet of his house, started stuffing white shirts and brown trousers into the pack. Two short swords in worn, frayed sheaths lay next to the clothes. So did a wooden case full of maps and a purse stuffed with coins.

"Did the washer woman ask you why you needed the clothes?" Quay asked.

Colin nodded.

"And what did you tell them."

The boy did not look up from his task. His eyes gleamed green, in the low gray light. "That is wanted to play slum man."

"And what will you say if they ask for them back?"

"I lost them."

Quay smiled and tousled his cousins hair. "Good man." He said, and Colin beamed.

Quay sat back and let his cousin stuff the clothes into the pack. His stomach was unsettled. Had been since he had woken up. The fact of the matter was, he hadn't gotten 3 hours of sleep when he had a woken from a nightmare. His cousin had been in the other room and came in when Quay had began pacing around the room.

He rubbed his chest and grimaced. Darkness had sat on his heart until he had woken gasping for air.

"Quay?"

Quay looked down to find Colin sitting cross-legged on the floor, clothes neatly packed and the leather bag tucked away under his bed.

"Why are you leaving?"

Quay rubbed his cousins head again. "Who told you I was leaving."

"I'm not stupid."

Quay sighed and raked his hands through his hair, what could he tell him. Quay hated to lie.

"Grown up things."

Colin screwed his face and stamped his feet. Quay shook his head and walked over to were his sword lay, but when he looked back a moment later, the boy was still pouting.

Quay sighed. "Colin, I promise to tell you everything when I get back."

Colin's eyes light up immediately, and grinned so widely that Quay would see his perfect teeth. "You promise?"

"Yes, now run along, but into sleep. My day is starting now anyway. Quay said, smiling as the bag quickly walked out the door and into his own room.

Quay stood and strode through the airy curtains that covered the simeirculur balcony of grey, and looked over the Palace Hills. The problems of the kingdoms weighed heavily upon Quay's mind. Despite still being a Prince, these were his people, his father was occupied with a war that had been going on since the start of time. Quay was preparing for a different situation, although related the war, the clothes were for another.

Without much of a warning a guard walked through the door wearing a plumed helmet. "Beg you pardon, my Prince..." the guard began.

"I know." said Quay. "My father will need you more today."

The guards eyes narrowed. "My prince-"

"I'll be fine." Quay said, leaving the balcony only to give the guard a reassuring shoulder shake. "Trust me."

The guard stared at him a moment longer, then bowed.

"Yes, my prince." He said. The old man withdrew, and Quay heard him talking to another guard as their footsteps moved down the hall.

Yes, my prince, he'd say. He always did.

Quay let and made his way to the Armory, if could not sleep, he might as well prepared for tomorrow's mission.

Alastor Daeva
Dark Lord's Castle

Alastor was tired of waiting already. He had started wondering if any of his men were competent at all. It's not that their duties were so difficult to begin with. Maybe he should become more strict. He was about to call Zenith, the only seemingly competent man in this side of the land, and finish his duties of the day already. But right then his dogs ran towards the door and started scratching it, whining. Someone was outside, and whoever it was, they didn't seem to have the intention of entering the room.

With a hand over his sword he opened the door, but before he could see the outsider, his two dogs rushed towards the hall and jumped over the boy that had sat there, waving their tails and licking his face. Alastor sighed. Well, at least it wasn't an enemy.

The man approached until he could see Lucifer's face, and the two dogs retreated. Alastor frowned in disapproval. His servant was sneaking around his study this late in the night and without permission? That was fairly suspicious. But if the boy had any intention of betraying him, Zenith would have already sliced his throat, plus he didn't seem to have any ill intention, dressed in his pyjamas and curled into a ball like that, so he decided not ask him what in hell he was doing here. There was no reason to embarrass the poor boy any more.

"This demeanor is truly shameful for a gentleman, don't you think, Sir Lucifer?" His stare was cold and intense. "Where's your pride as a noble warrior?" Still, he just sheathed his sword and offered him his hand without any reproach. "Come with me, or you'll catch a cold."

Cleo Vauch
Lightkeep

Cleo sighed as the person he was talking was showing off. Well, at least to Cleo it seemed like he was showing off. I mean, who just spits fire out of no where? Was he trying to threaten Cleo? Cause if he was, it wasn't working. All Cleo wanted to do was make sure everyone was safe. He was on duty, after all. If something bad happened on his watch, he'd never hear the end of it. As the guy walked off to gods knows where, he was alone again.

Again, he was on his own, with nothing to do, no one to speak to, and no action in sight. The ONE person who decided to come talk to Cleo left, all because Cleo was probably acting like a major douche. Its not like he meant to act that way. Hell, 90% of the time he didn't know when he was being rude. That was just Cleo. And boy did he suffer because of it. No friends, no more family..Nothing. Just a boy in the Kingsguard awaiting the next mission from his leader.

'Well, it could be worse, I suppose.' Cleo thought to himself."It could be thundering outside, and it could be really cold, and I could be starving.' He nodded. This life, he supposed, was much better than his old one. Even if he did get in trouble with people every now and then, and even if he did get bored way too often.

Valorian Lionfury
Lightkeep

A king could ill afford a night worth of bad sleep, especially a king at war such as himself. Nonetheless, he found himself unable to drift away into the land of sleep. Even there, rest would not come easily, during his long reign in this war, atrocities had piled up on his soul, one after the other, both of his own making and those of the enemies. There were few nights now that granted him the tranquility of a dreamless sleep. Perhaps he should order an alchemist to help him with this affliction, or perhaps the royal chef knew of some sort of recipe himself already. It was the least of his concerns however, blessed as he was with his physique, it seemed as if he required sleep a lot less than regular humans, despite how exhausting a king's duties were. Possibly it was simply because he knew that there was no room whatsoever for him to show the weakness of fatigue, his sheer willpower forcing the weariness away.

Years ago, that willpower had come more easily to him than it did today, Valorian had to admit that he was no longer a young man. While the scars of time were all but hidden from the general public, he himself could feel that they had begun to take their toll. The weight of his crown had grown heavy, while there was still no end in sight to this conflict. His conviction thus remained as strong as ever, if not strengthened by the inevitable future of his own age. His line was secure in his son, that much was sure, but he could scarcely expect him to inherit the troubled kingdom as it was now. In fact, he vowed to deliver a free kingdom to him, and when he finally perished, he'd walk among his ancestors as an equal, or perhaps even as their better. The one who finally put a stop to the encroaching darkness settling upon the land.

The specs of rain pattering down on his face brought him out of his thoughts however. Could he no more fight the darkness like he could not change the weather? After all, every light cast a shadow, and every day needed a night. If that was true, Valorian shuddered to imagine what kind of shadow he had cast. Those were matters that he ought to ban from his mind. A king always had to be determined, with his vision towards the future. Every man was capable of doubting him and blaming him, but if he started to doubt and blame himself, that was the end. The first crack in his armor and the beginning of weakness leading to his downfall.

The rain that swept over his nation would soon pale in comparison to the conflict peaking in its intensity. Valorian could call it a premonition or a gut feeling, but he was under the impression that the conflict would soon become an all out war. Like how this rain would only be a prelude to the inevitable storm that was bound to follow. Only now, in these private moments did Valorian allow himself to indulge in these grim thoughts and self-reflection, all too soon the kingdom demanded his unwavering willpower again, and he would prove he had just that in ample supply.

He idly flicked drops of water from his hair and beard, re-assuming the untouchable persona that was meant to be the shining beacon of humanity's hopes and dreams against the darkness. Turning his back on the weather, he stalked back into the halls of Lightkeep, strolling through the hallways and corridors were his father and his father's father had walked just as him, no doubt with similar worries and duties. Thankfully, it did not seem that he was as alone as he had thought, awake, that was.

One of the newest members of his Kingsguard stood lonesome on guard, seemingly quite annoyed one way or the other. If he were to rely on this person's strength and skills to guard him and his most important interests, he supposed he ought to at least gauge his worth and gain a clearer picture of what kind of a person he was.

"Sir Vauch."
Valorian called out as he approached, his voice as stoic and authoritative as ever. Even if it was the dead of night, a king did not lower his voice for any occasion.

"Everything is in order? I take it you are adjusting well to your newfound duties and responsibilities?"
Truth be told, Valorian was already slightly biased, knowing of Vauch's origins and previous transgressions. Thankfully, he respected skill enough to overlook the past slightly, though good acts did not necessarily wash away the bad ones.

Hero Sura
Lightkeep

As Hero stared forlorn up at the stars, a familiar voice caught his attention. It was his best friend, Spoony! He smiled a bit, in spite of himself, and quickly hopped down off the balcony down to the garden below. She approached him with that same old skip in her step, and asked him why he was up so late.

"I could ask you the same question, but I know the answer already; Work. Still sharpening swords this late into the night, aye?" He joked. "You work too hard." He said, while stretching out. He would never understand his friend's dedication to her work. Sure, he loved cooking, but he'd never work this late. Not unless he was doing something for a personal friend. That may have been because his love of sleep though, something this dreaded feeling temporarily had taken from him.

He sighed and sat down, his attempt to rub the back of his neck thwarted when he remembered he had that odd spike jutting out from the back of it. That made sleeping a bit harder, but it was nothing major, and did not rob him of his precious eight hours. "What's with all this, recently?" He asked his friend. "I mean, your father, my mother, this." He said, gesturing to his exposed chest, and the various glowing lines strewn across it, with a slightly bemused grin. "I'm not a man of faith, but it seems that something is happening, with all of this in a year." He reckoned. "I'm..." He paused, looking for the right words. "Unsure if I want to continue on my path. Or even what my path is. I mean, Mother did not want me to become a Kingsguard. I am also a bit unsure. Would that really be what benefits us all best? I met a man of the Kingsguard guarding the hall on my way here. And he didn't even know whom I was!" Hero sighed. Maybe he was being to heavy with her. She had presumably just wanted to relax before bed after a tough night. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I got a little out of hand there. I understand you want to relax too." He shook his head with a twinge of self-disappointment, and turned his attention towards her. "How have you been? Working as hard as ever, presumably?" He asked.

Cleo Vauch
Lightkeep

"Sir Vauch." called out a loud voice. Turning his head, Cleo saw it was none other than the king Lionsfury. Immediately, he got down on one knee, bowing the well respected king."Sir!" He said loudly and clearly.

"Everything is in order? I take it you are adjusting well to your newfound duties and responsibilities?" The king asked him. He didn't stand up, not knowing if now was the appropriate moment to do so.
"Yes sir! Everything is quiet in the halls, and the responsibilities and duties give me the great opportunity to better myself and my skill." He said. He didn't want to tell the king that he was greatly bored with the whole 'keeping watch' thing, and didn't know that the king had saw him acting the way he did.
"May I ask, my king, what you are doing up? Its quite late, and a person like you should get your rest, correct?" He asked him, keeping his head lowered in reverence to him.

Spoony

Spoony smiled when her friend mentioned how he was having trouble. She knew just how to cheer him up. Though she was a bit enviouse of him, as he get to be part of kingsguard, and Spoony was unable to just due to her being a woman, though matters would be even worse if the king ever found out she was a slime. Or atleast that was what she feared most. "My job require's me to work hard, behind every good soldier is a good blade, that's what my father says anyways." Spoony said with a smile on her face. She tried not to think about what her father had done, though in truth she believed that her father was simply brainwashed into leaving her. "Beside's not everyone is gonna recognize you, especially at night of all times." Spoony added looking up at the stars.

"I have something I think your going to like alot!" Spoony said smileing before grabbing her friends hand and dragging him right back to her workshop. Once there she took a tarp off of the Giant Knork she was working on. "Tada! I call it the Knork of power! It's almost done! I just need you to tell me where the weight distribution needs to be." Spoony said as she handed the Knork to him. One thing that Spoony had an issue with was names, she was terrible at naming her weapons, more often than not she named the weapons she made things like Steve, or Bob, often after their owners.

A piece of burned bread fell from the sky and landed in front of his foot.

"The head cook seems lively today," Rouen thought and picked up the charred bread. He sniffed it once and tossed it aside.

Rouen stood in the open corridor. He felt rain pelt his cloak and gather in droplets along the ridges of his clothing. His messy brown hair grew damp. He breathed deeply, feeling the surge of the storm spirits gathering above, drawing from their strength.

"It has been a long time," he thought.

He was 78 years old, middle-aged for a Fulgarius. 58 of those years was spent as a Kingsguard. 58 years of service to the Kingdom. 58 years protecting its ruler and its heirs. 58 years of fighting in a war that showed no sign of ending, of fighting the battle both in the light of the field and the dark of the alleyway. 58 years of upholding the highest ideal of humanity, paragons of what man should strive to be.

He could feel the age in his bones. The last time he looked in a mirror, he saw the gaunt lines of a long life running through his face. Years and years of physical effort and exhaustion had taken a toll on his body.

He sipped from his flask, feeling a relaxing surge.

More and more he felt like he relied on the alchemical draught made of fruit liquor, seedlings of a mind-soothing plant, and a pain-numbing agent that he carried in a flask. More and more he relied on his secret society, the Veiled Men, to act on his behalf.

Maybe once in a stormy night he would go out and take personal actions in a matter.

He took a sip from a leather flask. Something was going to happen tonight. A message came from one of his informants.

He walked to the castle armory, where he found what he was looking for.

"Now what would a prince of the Kingdom, be doing in the castle armory at this time of night?" Rouen asked.

Quay Lionfury
Lighkeep

Quay's steps echoed through the sleeping halls of the Palace. Despite the Palace being spick and span at all times, Quay could smell death in the air, he knew that he was just apprehensive, the 'death' that he smelled was dampness that the rain brought which hung thick in the air.

Quay sighed, his dream played over and over again in his head. Trance in flames, the Kingsguard dead, and his father kneeling before the Overlord, a blade deep in his stomach. Quay shook his head in defiance, coolness was his birthright, dwelling over the impossible would do him no good.

Quay found the Armory fairly quickly it's iron double-doors oh so familiar to him. The guard that stood at the door bowed low and opened the door for Quay.

"My Prince." The guard said through his helmet, head down.

Quay simply nodded, despite the fact the guard wouldn't see him do it. He quickly walked past the guard and stepped into the Armory, the wooden floors creaking under his weight. He walked among the rows of weapons, hundreds of weapons, all made for the war effort. Quay picked out a random Rapier, it was wicked sharp, and it's cold steel glistened in the dim light.

"This will do." Quay mumbled to himself despondently.

He quickly left the Armory and waved for the Guard to close the large door. As he walked away from the Armory the deep, grutle voice of Rouen stopped Quay in his tracks. It was the Kingsguard job to protect the Royal family, the man had every right to be concerned and know about his whereabouts.

"Can't sleep, decided to practice my sword play in preparation for tomorrow. Quay said, raising up the blade for the Kingsguard to see. Quay had known this man since he was a baby, and yet, it never ceased to amaze him how he still lived, the man was and old timer when he was born apparently.

Hero Sura
Lightkeep

Hero smiled slightly, as Spoony did much more of the same, and spoke.

"My job require's me to work hard, behind every good soldier is a good blade, that's what my father says anyways. Beside's not everyone is gonna recognize you, especially at night of all times." She said. It made him feel a bit better, and put some stuff into perspective. He should work hard at his job, just like she did, even if it didn't lead to the recognition he wanted. He rationalized it as anger over the guard's lack of knowledge, but he was also a bit mad at his lack of fame. And, hey, it was night, his face was pretty much only lit by his markings, maybe the guard was unaware of his condition?

But that didn't matter right now. Spoony was dragging him all the way back to her place of business, the workshop. She had promised him something he would really enjoy, and, honestly, he was inclined to believe her. She made good product, and as previously mentioned, she worked hard. Once they got there, Hero was amazed as Spoony tore down a tarp, revealing the most beautiful thing Hero had ever seen. She handed it to him, the Knork. It had an edge, three points, and was long. It was like a glaive and a pitchfork all mixed up in one!

He ran his finger over the blade's edge and almost got a cut. His skin was almost as dense as iron, and this almost cut him without any effort! He backed a way from Spoony a bit and tested it, swinging it a little, and testing it's weight in his hand. It was a bit light on the blade, but the pole itself was just right. "This is the perfect weapon! Add a little weight to the blade, and it's got range, piercing, and slashing! It's... it's just...!" He set the polearm down on a table, and hugged her. "It's so cool! I need to repay you. Any dish you want, I'll make from scratch!" He offered. He was incredibly happy about this. For a while he was just using his fists because even his mace was so crappy. Now he had something great, made by his best friend. The bad omen he had earlier was completely gone and, for now, he had put aside the issue of the Kingsguard. Now, he could sleep in peace.

Spoony

Spoony was so happy to see her friend have a smile on his face again after looking so somber. "Good to know! I like to think of this as one of my finest works! Hopefully one day I can make one of the Royals and even better weapon! One so great that the heavens will Light up everytime it's raised!" Spoony said as she slipped out of the hug in a very slime like fashion. In order to do this she took on her slime form and slid back a bit before coming up and reforming again. Very few people were allowed in her workshop so no one would have seen her true form.

"Anyway's your gonna owe me Sweet rolls for the next week for this!" Spoony said with a smile. "Oh and there is something else I want to try with you later, I wanna see if I can make blade by using your own flames as the forge." Spoony said. She had always been wanting to see if she could use hero's flames as a means to forge something. She figured that due to it not being natural flames it may give the blades some kind of special element to them, maybe make them lighter, or melt away ALL of the impurities in a weapon. If he could do this then she may even be able to go journey's as well with him. Even into the mountains if they could find a way to have the heat continuously radiate from something to keep her from freezing up in the cold.