In a time of war and great need, only a prophecy keeps hope alive in the people’s hearts…

“When darkness veils the world, the Knights of Light shall come…”

“Where is it…?”

A young man walked around a large, elegant room. There was a large king sized bed made up with fine black bed setting on a raised platform. On the opposite side of the room was a large wooden bookshelf, practically making up the entire wall and lining the entire wall all sorts of books and texts, both old and knew. Beside the bed was a large wooden desk, covered in all sorts papers and miscellaneous objects; sheets with pentagrams and magic circles sketched on them, loose gemstones scattered about, and who knew what else. The final noticeable trait was the large window replacing one of the walls, overlooking the courtyard as well as the rest of Somnium.

“This is dumb, it was right here!”

Adam let out a groan of frustration, running a hand through his messy, brown hair and darting his vibrant blue eyes all about the room. He was practically ready, already dressed in a fitted, athletic red long sleeved shirt, black cargo shorts, and black high top sneakers. He had already had his bag taken down to the courtyard and he was almost certain everyone else had been prepared by this point, but Adam knew he couldn’t leave without-

“Ah!”

Adam felt a slight wave of relief wash over him as he spotted the corner of a small leather bound book peeking out from under his bed, making his way up the small marble steps and picking up the book. He sighed, finally feeling as though he was truly read. He slowly walked toward the window, looking out to his all too familiar city; with tall buildings and skyscrapers all about, the streets busy with hustle and bustle in the distance. Adam had only left the capitol city a handful of times, and each time he had always been accompanied by guards, members of the Royal Guard, or some combination of the two, staying low-key and never truly being able to enjoy himself in these places. Sure, they were political matters that were not really meant to be enjoyable, but this time was different. It was still business, but this time he was free to do as he chose, and the business was something he had been anticipating for quite some time.

Adam drew his attention to the courtyard, seeing as some of the workers pulled around the shiny, black convertible toward the entrance, the bags ready to be packed into the trunk. He supposed it was time, taking one last look across the city before turning and making his way out into the hallway. His footsteps echoed throughout the large empty halls of marble as he made his way toward the elevator.

Sigurd Lucetta
- - - - -
Sigurd was rapidly pacing outside the doors of the elevator waiting for his master, Prince Adam. Adam had told Sigurd to bring the luggage down ahead of time, while he stayed to search for something. Sigurd thought that it was going to be a good idea to drop off his own belongings at the same time, but quickly regretted it. It's too light... he thought to himself as he handed his enormous rucksack to the two bellhops, who struggled to carry it outside. He had figured that he could put up with it until Adam finished and they headed to the car, but it was taking a torturously long time.

For him, at least.

In reality, it had only been a few minutes. But regardless, Sigurd was horrendously bored, and thus headed off to the kitchens to make some snacks.
---
He returned 20 minutes later, with a bag of still-warm caramel brittle and a slight skip in his step--he still had the same deadpan expression and raptor-like stare, though. This strange incongruency attracted a few gazes, but they quickly averted themselves when the "hostile" glare was directed at them. Some of his energy diverted, Sigurd finally took a seat in the lobby as the Coronam pulled up to the front. The others would surely be arriving soon.

---

Edmund felt like he was going to explode.

Not literally, of course. He hadn't been literally about to explode since the time that grenade (miraculously, a dud) landed in his lap, back in his mercenary days. No, Edmund was just restless. That, in it of itself, was hardly a rare occurrence. If Edmund were to tell a friend that he was feeling restless, the likely answer would be 'again, or still?'. He felt cooped up under normal circumstances, but knowing that the open road was just a little while away made every second until their departure all the more excruciating.

He'd woken up early. Or, more correctly, he'd stayed up late, took a forty minute nap, and woke up before dawn. With nothing better to do, he'd gone to the Guard's training grounds and sparred. He'd been using a training sword from the practice rack, since he didn't want to waste energy conjuring for partner-less training. He'd stayed out of the way, trying to conceal himself. If Jitka made her way to the sparring grounds, he'd have to spar her. She'd won their lat match, and he didn't want to fight her again until he was sure of his victory. A younger him may have called that cowardly, but he just called it practical.

So, he whacked away at a dummy with the practice sword. When he got bored, he took some practice shots with his revolver, much to the dismay of anyone unlucky enough to have a room near the training grounds. He became engrossed in his training finding relief from the restlessness. He became so engrossed that he lost track of time. The sun had risen, and he was late.

"Shit." He said to himself. "Glad I don't work a nine-to-five." He haphazardly stowed the practice blade, gathered his gear, and made haste for his room. Realistically speaking, all he had to do was grab his satchel, and he'd be ready to go, but he'd take a shower first. Say one thing for Edmund McCormac, say he likes to smell nice. So, he took a shower at record speed, and blow-dried his hair. He'd take the hairdryer on campaigns, when he was still a Captain, and his troops would often make fun of him for it. He got used to the insults, but he hoped that the troops never got used to him having fantastic-looking hair.

When Edmund decided he was presentable, he sprinted as fast as he could to the lobby. He stopped to catch his breath, and looked around. The others weren't here yet, maybe he wasn't late aft-

Oh.

Edmund sighed, and sat down next to Sigurd. He glanced at the bag in the servant's hands. He craned his neck to peek inside, hand poised to snatch some of the food, but he sat back down, defeated, when he realized it was caramel brittle. He hated caramel. He sat back, thinking.

"Yo, Sig." Edmund said, lightly poking him with his elbow. "Are you as excited as I am for this trip?" Edmund smiled, in spite of himself. He could not wait to be rid of the capital for a while. He liked the city skyline, but any picture got old if you stared at it every day. "Because, I, my friend, am elated."

@Rice Porridge

Interactions: Edmund McCormac @Fisticuffs

---

A dull electronic beeping sounded across a modest but tasteful apartment, and two amethyst eyes smoothly slid open before the man turned his head to focus on the offending device. Glaring at the innocent alarm clock for a few more seconds, Daedalus sighed to himself before he pulled himself up and out of his warm bed. Silencing the still-bleeping device, he ran the metallic fingers of his left hand through his hair. Now that he was awake, he had two immediate objectives: Make Coffee and Clean himself up. Casting a look at the door leading into the bathroom, he debated the two until the need for caffeine won out and he turned his head, his feet instead carrying him into the kitchen.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee and dropping two cubes of sugar into it, he stirred the cup absently as he thought about the prince's trip scheduled for later that day. A small smile slipped onto his face as he thought about his play-date with the Oracle, and laughed a little as he wondered what Adam would say if he called it that to his face before tipping the mug to his lips and swallowed a mouthful of hot coffee. Returning to his bedroom with coffee in hand, Daedalus grabbed a clean set of clothes and set them down within the bathroom.

After finishing his coffee and a quick bowl of cereal, Daedalus pulled off his sleepwear as he walked back to the bathroom, clad in only a pair of boxers by the time he turned the shower on. Losing the last article of clothing, he stepped under the warm water for a through 15 minute shower before quickly towelling himself off and getting dressed in his usual grey shirt and black jeans. As a matter of habit, he checked his prosthetic systems as he dressed himself, extending and retracting the quick-draw mechanisms and arm-blades before stepping back into the living room of his private apartment. Slipping on his long coat and scooping up his keys, he briefly returned to his bedroom to retrieve his bag and helmet before he strode out of his apartment, locking the door behind him.

Spinning his keys with one finger and his helmet in the other hand with his bag hanging off one shoulder, a few soldiers clad in black uniforms greeted him with 'Lieutenant' during the short walk to where his motorcycle was parked. Each time he'd give a half smile and nod return. The men of Blackwatch were like a family to him and they had a deep respect for each other, and Daedalus was still a part of that family. Despite officially being an adviser and bodyguard for Prince Adam, he was never technically discharged from Blackwatch, meaning to these men, he was still their brother-in-arms and in some cases superior officer. Snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed he reached the private parking lot.

Looking slowly across the parked vehicles, his eyes came to rest on the angular black form of his motorcycle and he crossed the distance with a few strides. Storing the bag under the seat, he slipped the sleek black helmet onto his head and swung himself onto the seat as he turned the key and kicked the kick-starter. With a quiet roar, the engine burst into life as he deftly handled the clutch and gently twisted the throttle, the gears kicking in as the bike began to pull away from the parking space. With a final twist of the throttle, the engine growled loudly in anticipation before tearing out of the car park with a prominent roar.

Weaving between the other vehicles on the road, it didn't take the supercharged motorcycle long to reach the palace. As the grand building came into view, Daedalus gave the machine another burst of speed. Passing through security, he pulled up alongside the Coronam and killed the engine as he dismounted. Leaving the helmet on the seat, Daedalus ran a metal hand through his hair as he entered the lobby in time to catch Edmund lightly nudge Sigurd. With a one-sided smile, but not quite a smirk, he caught the ex-soldier's attention as he neared the pair with long strides, arms swinging loosely at his sides.

"That's not a surprise in the slightest, Ed."