14. Seris III

Seris

"Another pint, if you will." he said, his voice slurred slightly.

The plump, masked tavern wench served him with a tired look in her good eye. The place served good ale, but nowhere near as good as Stillwall's; his favorite. They had always served good malt beer, great aged mead, and even better and stronger ale. Stillwall's was a place where he could find an escape from whatever troubles he had. Normally, he would go to a place like this alone. But he wasn't alone this time.

"Some more malt, if you please." Kapral had ordered. It was his idea to bring him here in the first place. They were only few people, including them who were in the tavern.

Seris looked at him surprisingly. "You already had four drinks!" he scorned.

"So?" He said nonchalantly, "Last I remember being here, I drank seven or ten drinks... I think."

"And how long ago was that?" he asked.

"Two years." Kapral answered. "Before I started my reconnaissance mission. I've been coming here for a rather long time. Ever since I was a small boy, and had wings."

"How young were you at the time?" He was curious.

Kapral lowered his head as he thought about it. "Four or five, maybe." He said. "My mother used to be a tavern wench. She always kept me in the back of the tavern in those days. Then one night... I heard her scream, worse than I ever heard her. I remember seeing her lifeless body, stabbed to death by one of her customers." When his drink was served, he lifted his helm up to take a gulp. He could see traces of his dark scared skin as he lifted it.

"By the gods." Seris was stunned, "I'd never known!"

"Yeah--" he took another gulp. "--one of her regulars. He escaped, of coarse. I was left to weep helplessly next to her."

"I am sorry." he sort of felt sorry for him; he was waiting for him to make a quick quip.

He didn't seem to have heard that and continued: "For countless years I have wandered the streets an orphan, scavenging for food wherever I can find. I learned to fend for myself at the age of seven. That was also the age I was found by a man who took me in. He cared for me for some time, and taught me to traverse the world without flying. Mainly because I didn't know how at the time."

He raised a brow, but Kapral couldn't see it. "Seven years? I've learned how to fly since I was five!"

"My mother never taught me, don't judge!" he defended himself. "Anyways," he continued, "I eventually learned how to fly, later on thanks to him. However, at some point he prepared me for a 'final test' as he called it. This 'test' required me to kill someone. We had broken into a home, and he told me to kill everyone inside and take their belongings."

"At seven years old?!" Seris couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Kapral nodded. "Before we broke in, he gave me a dirk to kill them. But then we came into one of the rooms; a child's room. The kid was no older than I. He went to demonstrate, but my conscience forced me to intervene. My dirk had entered through an artery in his leg, a place where he wasn't armored."

Seris was so very intrigued (yet slightly disturbed) by his tale, that he did not see his drink right in front of him. "So you killed him, even after all he's done for you?"

"He was about to kill a child!" He shouted angrily, "What else was I supposed to do?! He took me in, yes, but I won't kill an innocent child because he ordered me to!"

He has better morals than I thought. He thought.

"After I killed him, I dragged his forsaken corpse outside. The only thing I stole from them was a shovel to bury him."

Well, for the most part.

Seris had taken a few long sips before he said anything. "So you refused to kill their child, yet you stole their shovel?"

Kapral had gulped his drink almost down to the bottom. "What? I had to bury him with something."

"Where did you bury him?" Seris asked.

"In a garden." He answered, "Considering Nezend is a city in the sky, there was no other fertile ground. I was angry at him--no I hated him, for what he wanted me to do! I looked after myself a little while longer. I had eventually turned nine when the fateful day arrived; the day I was found yet again. Only he was a different man then the last."

"What was this man's name?"

Kapral had seemed to ponder for a moment. "Devdan." He answered, "He had taught me much about what I do now. It was he who taught me deceptive arts. He had also told me things, most people shouldn't know. He was a tricky blighter, but he was more moral than the last man."

"Devdan." I know that name from somewhere, but how?

"For many years longer I've been under his watch, gone under many aliases, and disposed of many targets under contract."

"You were an assassin?"

"For a time, yes. But then it all ended." he had emptied his cup.

Seris was confused, "'Ended'? What do you mean?"

"My service to him was complete." he lowered his head a little more, "I was nineteen when I went to serve a spymaster, in service to the emperor. I accepted, but at a dreadful price: my wings. He had heard what I've accomplished. He had tasked me to infiltrate the largest sabrathanian base in The Desert of Casah. I visited here one last time before they cut off my wings."

"You last visited here two years, you said?" Seris couldn't believe what he realized, "That would make you... twenty one."

"Indeed." He answered him, his voice slurred.

"You are younger than I!"

Kapral was amused. "And what of your age, milord?"

"Twenty four."

He had a hard time believing that Kapral was younger then he was. It seemed probable, since he is notably drunk. There aren't many things a man can hide when they are intoxicated; it makes a man truthful.

Or so they say. He thought.

Kapral began to lift his mug up in the air. "Twenty four years! Ha!" he laughed. "That's rich!"

"I take it you are rather drunk." Seris told him.

"Am I?" He then leaned over to the tavern wench and whispered in her covered ear.

"You look it." Seris was a bit bewildered.

The tavern wench brought Kapral another pint. He then passed it to him. "Here, drink it. It's what I've been drinking all evening."

He took a sip. It had an unexpected sweet taste, nothing like any beer he's ever had. It did not seem to have any trace of alcohol in it whatsoever. He took another sip, and tasted something fruity and acidic. It was then he realized it wasn't beer at all... it was some kind of juice created from some kind of fruit.

"It's juice." He understood.

"Burab berry juice." The spy told him, pleased with his deception. "I never drank beer or ale in my life."

He had not expected to be tricked. "Why did you lie to me?"

"To test you." He said, "I wanted to see if I can trust you."

"By the word of the gods and Anakim, why?!"

Kapral had put his hand under his cloak. He brought out an envelope and gave it to him. The seal bared a familiar insignia to him: a golden eel of Dramor. He opened the letter and read it carefully. The note detailed an attack on the shores of Laint*. Dramoran ships flooded the bay, the town was left a disaster. Few prisoners were taken. The letter spoke of it as a glorious spectacle, which confused him. At the very end of the letter it wrote: "I shall see you soon enough, my son. Your father; Adrolos, King of the seas."

"Dramorans?! I don't believe it!" He was aggravated.

"Not only that." Kapral said, "But guess who this was addressed to. A green-eyed knight by the name of Gadreel. I found him trying to discard this"

"What?! There has been a spy for Dramor, and you didn't even tell my uncle?!" The drinks he had, made his emotions run rampant. "And why tell me of this in public?"

Kapral had got up from his seat. "Every patron here is a trusted friend of mine. I promise you, they won't tell a soul."

"You blasted liar!" Seris was furious, "They'll bring all of Nezend to panic! My uncle has enough problems to deal with as it is! Now we have two enemies of ours to deal with! And this Adrolos has a spy for a son."

"I had a feeling this would happen, given the Emperor's son killed his."

"What?! What are you talking about?!" Seris was angry and confused.

"He did not tell you? It was during the war between Nezend and Dramor."

Seris knew very little about that war. "I was a small boy at the time! I don't remember."

"In the Battle in the Storm, Mendrion's son, Galizur, slew Adrolos's eldest son in combat. And worse, he had taken it upon himself to take his bride for his own."

So this King of the seas has his reasons to hate us. Why Galizur?! he thought, pain flooded his head.

Seris felt nauseous from the ale, something he's not used to. "Why did you tell me first?"

Kapral came up to where his ear would be. "I don't want another war to happen, Lord Seris." He whispered. "I don't want there to be another war with the kaerndallens; or the dramorans! Your people in Nezend suffer enough as we speak. Address these problems to your uncle, have him send men and find the mole before he escapes!"

When he said that, his vision blurred. He was getting both tired and puzzled at once. He felt his wings and legs falling asleep, other parts of his body go numb. He had fallen over, but Kapral had caught him. When he did, he was carrying him off to the door, but he could barely see anything. Why was this happening to him? Why did he do that to him? What did he do to deserve this?

It was as if bells were ringing in his head. His stomach churned, from the burab berry juice; burab did not sit very well with him. He realized he has in his tower, in bed. All of his armor was stripped off of him. His light colored hair fell to his shoulders in a tangled mess. He did not expect to wake up in his tower. Light had shone down from his balcony.

"Milord!" He heard a familiar voice.

"Harut. How'd I get here?" He asked.

"A fellow by the name of Kapral, had taken you up to your tower through an entrance just below the base." Harut told him specifically.

"He did?"

"Yes, milord. He spoke of you having to much to drink last night. And that you had a bit of an outburst."

Did I really? he thought to himself, having trouble remembering.

"Did anything of particular interest happen, while I slept?" He tried to get up, but Harut stopped him.

"Milord, you must rest." He insisted.

"Where is Kapral?" Seris demanded.

"He slipped out as soon as I got you comfortable." Harut then knelt down beside his bed, "As for any particular happenings, two of the Emperor's knights are missing."

That was one thing he hadn't expected. "Who were they?"

"A female knight named Hayliel, and a green eyed knight named Gadreel."

The dramoran spy! That was one thing he had not forgotten that night. "Did they disappear at the same time?"

"They reported Gadreel missing first." Harut told him simply. "Nobody saw him, but some suspect he left out of cowardice."

Seris was now deeply concerned. Not only because of the dramoran's disappearance--which was horrible news--but he somehow felt concern for Hayliel. He did not think he would see the day that he was worried about her. Why did she leave? She disappeared after Gadreel, yet still why would she? He had known her to be reckless, but she seemed more responsible now. What is her reason?

Why am I concerned for someone I somewhat detest? He thought, puzzled.

"How's my uncle dealing with this?"

"Semyaza explained that he felt annoyed but pushed the matter aside. His concerns are focused on Kaerndal."

"Of coarse." Seris was not surprised. "And what has he been doing about it?" He probably already knew the answer.

"He has been sending more soldiers to camp close to The Ridge."

"Figures." His hunch was right.

"The Lord Commander reported spotting a few kaerndallens just outside The Ridge."

Nothing too surprising to him. "Have any of their infantry attacked?"

"No attacks or casualties, milord." Harut had got up from where he knelt.

"Good." Seris could at least be satisfied for once. "But could I at least get out of this bed?"

"Don't you feel your head swimming?" Harut asked worriedly.

"I'm fine." His head felt normal now. "I remember what he told me a while back."

"Who? This... Kapral?"

Seris nodded and said, "He told me his opinion on the words spoken by a pony. The words were: 'I feared this would happen'. And he told me how he assumed that what he meant was a possible war. A war between Ronia and Equestria. I told him 'you must be out of your mind to think that'. Whether it be with the kaerndallens specifically, I'm not sure. I hope he didn't mean us against the ponies."

Harut shifted slightly. "I don't believe this Kapral is to be trusted. He seems a rather shady fellow."

"Much obliged, Harut. Much obliged." He agreed.

You did not have to warn me about that. he thought to himself, mirthless. I think it best to avert from meeting him. For my health at least.

"Shall I be of any further assistance to you, milord?" He asked.

Lord Seris only made an annoyed expression on his face. "No, Harut. You have my leave."

"Yes, milord." Harut had left outside the door.

He put a hand over his bare face in frustration. He had no desire to stay in his bed, and pulled away his covers to get himself up. His wings were aching a little when he did. Harut had put him in his night shirt and pants, even though it was daytime. After he had gotten out of bed he went to his dresser. He knew he couldn't put on his silver armor by himself, but he had a silver mask to suffice. Seris had searched through his clothing to find it. He pulled drawer after drawer... but then he remembered.

"Wait." Seris said to himself.

There had been a secret compartment in the top drawer. A small lever above the top drawer opened it. He opened his top drawer and flicked the lever with his finger. A small square wooden hatch open up inside the drawer. He reached his hand in the opening to grab the mask inside. The silver mask was very ornate in design, fitting for a lord like himself. The mask fits as well as his helm.

"Ah..." he sighed. "Much better."

He figured that since he put on his mask, he should bet out of his night clothes. He had found a simple leather jerkin, brown silk pants, and a belt. He also grabbed a dirk and fastened it on a loop in his belt, just in case. He had adorned himself in no time. He stretched his wings out to prevent them from falling asleep; he was going to need them. As much as he loved using his balcony to launch, he thought it best to fly elsewhere.

Outside, he made his way down a flights of stairs. It led him to his common room which also had a balcony. His common room had many expensive furniture within. This balcony was of coarse lower than the one in his bedroom, so flying from here requires little care. He's launched many times on his bedroom's balcony, but never really did so here.

The sky had never looked so blue. The buildings in the clouds were much lower in sight, to where he could see the details of the polished concrete of which it's made of. Several citizens were flying off here and there, all of them wearing masks or helms. Some of the buildings were built on clouds lower than others, making them look asymmetrical. Yet to him, it was beautiful asymmetry. Even though it was somewhat safer than jumping off of the top balcony as per usual, it is still in the clouds which was thousands of feet in the air. Great care must be taken.

I have to find her. He thought. Not because I love her, but because she is a friend of a friend

That made him think of Opheil even more. It had been so long since he last seen his childhood sweetheart. Hayliel was a friend of hers, and he is only doing this for Opheil, and not himself. He had no knowledge of her, or Hayliel's location, but it is worth looking. He wasn't sure where to find her but he figured it would be best to search in the under parts of Nezend. He had perched himself on the balcony's railing, and leaped off; spreading his white wings gracefully into the air.

He had a hard time telling how long he had flown. He swore he's searched under the city, for almost two hours. Seris could feel his wing bones getting tired from constant flight; he must land quickly before he tires completely. He eyed a small cloud perfect for landing. Flapping his wings carefully, he landed safely on the soft cloud beneath his feet. The clouds in Ronia were always soft and safe to land.

I've searched for hours! He thought as he panted, not brave enough to speak to himself verbally, And still no sign of her! Where could she have gone?

The same can be said with Gadreel, whom he was also looking for. He brought his dirk with him if he was to be attacked by someone. More specifically, he wanted to use it to kill the dramoran. The last thing he wanted was an invasion, and for King Adrolos's son to escape. Seris was not sure if Gadreel was armed or not. It could mean his own fate, if he was armed with a sword. A dirk was no match for a sword in a duel, he knew. He was not very good at fighting as Galizur was when he was still alive. Though he could be stealthy and kill him swiftly without confrontation, but he can't be too sure.

Now that he let his wings rest he can continue searching. He's flown across Nezend countless times over the years he's been alive. He took flight off the cloud and into the air once again. Everywhere he went had already been checked. He backtracked to and fro, scanning almost every area he could.

What's this? He saw a cloaked figure in grey, walking in an alleyway between two buildings. Gadreel! It must be.

Seris flew as fast as he could toward the figure in the grey cloak. As he dove, he reached for his dirk and held it from the blade down. Soaring as quietly as he could, he great intention to kill him from behind. His target on the other hand, will be none the wiser. He landed softly, just to be sure. The figure in the grey cloak continued on his route to wherever he's going. He crouched and started to stalk. He felt like a predator stalking its prey at this moment.

So this must be what an assassin feels like. He amused himself. He was about to make the killing blow...

"Ha!" The cloaked figure turned to face him, quick as lightning. He then caught a strong firm grip of his wrist.

Struggling, he tried to stab him. The figure's grip however, was just too strong for him. The figure had forced him against the wall hard, sending a sharp pain in his back. He had held him there with one hand; his other hand grasping his neck. Seris could feel constriction in his throat, struggling to breath. He had no choice but to drop his weapon. The figure continued to choke him with one hand, while he threw back his hood.

"So, you think you can try to assassinate me?" The figure said. But his voice sounded like a women's.

"Hayliel?!" he realized.

She choked him tighter, "Who are you to know my name?!"

"It's me, Seris!" He said as he choked. He thought his lungs were about to collapse.

Her grip had then loosened. He dropped to the soft floor beneath him; air returning to his lungs at last. "Seris? What are you doing here?" said Hayliel.

He was gasping for air. "Trying to find you!" he shouted, "What are you doing wandering off, eh?"

"Emerald Eyes." she answered.

"Emerald Eyes?" He knew who she meant. "You mean Gadreel?"

"Yes. He's a dramoran, Seris. His father has landed on the shores, and has plundered Laint!" She had angry tone to her voice when she said that.

"I know." He told her plainly, "Kapral told me about it last night."

"And at first I thought the Emperor was the only danger to the city. This is just as bad, if not worse!"

Seris was a little taken aback by what she said. "What do you mean by that?"

"Your uncle plans to wage war on The Ridge. He plans to attack Kaerndal. He plans to march to The Ridge!" Her voice sounded scared this time.

"My uncle's arranging battlements to march. I'm not surprised." He found it to be fairly obvious that his uncle would do so.

"This is not a time to joke, Seris, this is serious!" Her inner fire raged, "With the Emperor marching off to battle, it leaves our city at stake! This Gadreel is crafty. He was trying to make his way into the entrance to the catacombs, last I remember."

"Catacombs?!" That was something he had not thought about, "He's going after The Silver Mirror!"

"Yes! And I was close to catching him, until he fought me! I accidentally stepped on a trap tile, and fell into the sewers."

Seris tried hard not stifle a laugh. "Then how'd you end up here, then?"

"I couldn't go back the way I came. I had to move about a labyrinth of a sewer system to get here. I found a discarded cloak, to disguise myself. I now have to make way back clandestinely. Sadly... he probably already found the mirror by now. It's all my fault!"

He'd never expected her to be as humble as she is now. "Don't blame yourself. Why did he want to enter the mirror anyway?"

Through her helm, he could see the pain in her eyes. "I don't know, but it cannot be anything good. That's for sure. I should have watched my footing while I fought."

"What happened to you?" He felt the need to ask, "You were never like this when we were children."

She shot a glance at him; he can see the exasperation in her eyes. "That was a long time ago when we were children! I've grown since then. I'm not the kind of person who'll stay the same forever."

"I see." There was no use talking about it.

"We have to reach The Emperor's Tower. We have to warn your uncle." She said urgently.

"I got it. He's probably still planing, as we speak" He pointed out.

They were off to the tower together. As they flew higher he saw that tower was not as far as he thought. The tall tower was only hundreds of feet away. The very top of the tower, was thousands of feet above where they flew, and it was a very long flight upwards. He knew there was a way up the tower without flying. Hayliel had flown closer to him.

"Where is your armor, Seris?" she asked.

"Well I couldn't put it on myself!" he defended, "Harut told me to rest and went out, and I had to wear something to go out to-"

"Find me?" She teased as if she knew what he was going to say.

"Well... yes. But only because you are a friend of a friend is all."

"You still love Opheil?" She asked. "Don't you?"

He already knew the answer. "Yes. I still think of her."

"I'm sad to say, Seris, but... Opheil is already married."

The revelation struck hard. How could she fall for someone else? It has been so long since he last saw her, all those years ago. She went back to her home at that time. It had to have been an arranged marriage. It made sense. In Ronian culture, marriage was done for political alliances between two kingdoms, or empires. It did not make him any less upset.

"How would you know before I?" He asked, a sad tone in his voice.

"Her father sent a letter to your uncle," she answered, "detailing marriage between her and some lordling. I don't know the lordling's name though."

It was painful enough that his beloved was married to someone else. His heart clenched up just thinking about it. He also did not wish to know the lordling's name; he has no desire to curse his name. The gods know he has enough names to curse already.

Seris took her to an entrance in the back of the tower. It was nothing more than a large pipeline though. The smell of it was strikingly pungent; a mixture of all sorts of foul odors. He knew what it was, but it was the only they were going to get to The Council Chamber, at a faster pace than taking his normal route.

"Anakim's name, we have to go through the sewers?!!" She yelled at him furiously, "I just came out from here!"

"I know it seems like you're going back the way you came," Seris defended himself. "But trust me, I know a route that will take us to where we must be."

She groaned angrily, "It's a maze in there, how would you know where to go?! Then again, I'd never expect a lord like you to trudge in tainted sewer water. I always thought you hated getting your hands dirty."

"Trust me, I've come a long way from that!" He told her firmly. Not another word was said afterwords.

He entered first, flapping his wings and folding them, and sinking his boots into the vile water carefully. There was steady footing below, although squishy from dung or whatever made its way down here. As he went further into the tunnel, Hayliel followed behind him, making a splash of dirty water. It may have been a while since he last sunk his feet into the grey vile waters, but he had laid out a map in his head, memorized since his second visit here as a boy. He had traveled down here to spy on his uncle... and late father. It's been so long since he thought about his long deceased father. It made it even harder when he even forgot his name. His heart sank further thinking about it, so he pushed the thought immediately.

"So, you're not the only one who's changed since childhood." She teased.

"I've been traveling through these tunnels since I was a boy of nine." Seris told her.

"Nine?" She sounded surprised, "We have not seen each other since we were seven. I suppose your father toughened you up?"

"In a way." Once again, the thought of his father. He kept silent after that.

He led her down the left corridor, which was somewhat dark. There were sconces lit upon the walls of the corridors, their flames dancing wildly. They continued to wade in the sewer water, until they came across a narrow walkway along one of the walls of the corridor. Seris and Hayliel stepped out of the vile liquid, and onto the walkway. Close by he saw a sconce with a removable torch. The last thing he wanted was walking aimlessly in the dark. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the walls, as they walked. Seris had then removed the torch from the sconce.

"We must be quick," She said urgently, "We cannot waste anymore time here."

With that said, he and Hayliel started quickening their pace. The echoes of their footsteps almost deafened their ears, they ran so fast. Fortunately, the concrete that made up the walkway was not as damp. They eventually came across a fork in their path; two paths, each one leading in a different direction. He remembered the right way thankfully.

"We must go right." He told her, as he waded into the water again. Hayliel then did the same.

The next corridor was much darker than the last, as the light from the torch illuminated some of it. He tried his best to quicken his pace as he waded in the water; there were no walkways beyond this point. Hayliel didn't struggle to keep up with him however. She did not seem afraid to slip or fall.

At least she's fast, he mused, otherwise, this would have gone much slower.

Eventually, he reached exactly what he was looking for: a ladder posted against the wall. Above it was a grated cover. And beyond it... inside the very tower itself, close to The Council Chamber. He knew because he's done this before when he was nine. His father scorned him never to go in the sewers. Remembering that, nearly made him choke up.

No. he told himself, I mustn't think about it. It will only pain you longer if you do.

"Seris?"

"What is it?" Seris asked nervously. He did not want her to see his pain.

"Does this really lead outside The Council Chamber?" She asked doubtfully.

"Of course!" He answered, "Why else would I have led you here?"

One at a time, they climbed. There was no room to fly upwards, so climbing was the only option. Seris went up first. He did not wear heavy armor thankfully, otherwise it would have been harder to support the extra weight. Hayliel wore her armor, though it was lightweight so it did not trouble her to climb. His silver armor was also light, but he wasn't wearing it. Once he got to the grated cover, he waited for Hayliel to come up closer.

"Can you open it?" She asked.

"Yes, yes!" He said irritated, "Just hold on, and I'll get it open."

"Alright then." She shrugged. "No need to make a fuss."

He grabbed the cover firmly, and turned it counter clockwise as carefully as he could. The sound of grating metal, made his ears ache. It eventually stopped to a metallic thunk. The cover was relatively weighty, but not to heavy. He lifted it upwards and pushed it off to the side. He climbed up out of the pungent sewer, and into the white hall above. Hayliel continued to climb up, reaching her hand out for him to grab it. At first he seemed rather reluctant, but it would have been awful he did not help.

"Here." He grabbed her hand and helped her out of the hole.

"Thanks." She said to him gladly.

Once she got to her feet, he heard a door sling back. They were close to the chamber after all. Seris knew full and well it was his uncle. He heard him say something under his breath, but could not comprehend what it was. He still wore his bright golden armor. He glimpsed at him bewildered.

"Who in Anakim's name are you?!" he demanded.

Seris walked up to him. "Uncle it's me."

"Nephew?" he realized. He could hear him sniff. "Why do you smell like crap?" He then turned to Hayliel, and the hole. It was then that he understood.

"Long story, but that's not why I'm here." He tried his to explain as best he could. "The knight, Gadreel, is not a true knight."

"What do ya mean?" He did not understand.

"The one with green eyes."

"Oh!" now he understood. "What of him?"

"He's the son of Adrolos!" He told him, "He's a dramoran, uncle. His father has already landed on our grounds. And now, he's entered the mirror! He's entered Equestria, uncle! You have to send troops there to kill him!"

His uncle was very shocked by what he had heard. "First Kaerndal, now Dramor. Now everybody wants to kill us! Why did this dramoran enter Equestria?"

"I have no knowledge of it, uncle." Seris really had no idea why he would. "But regardless, you must send a few soldiers to find him."

"I'm afraid I can't, Seris." He sighed, "I need as many soldiers as I can, if we can stand any chance against Kaerndal."

Seris felt his chest burning from anger. "But they never attacked any scouts, uncle!" he shouted, "We can't just start a battle with them, unless they attack us first, or we have a very good reason for fighting them!"

"'Good reason for fightin' them'?! They are invading our ally's territory!" His uncle shot back, "I think that's more than a good reason to fight them! I've already made arrangements to march on The Ridge."

"And what of the dramorans?!" He snapped, "They've landed on our shores, and they could be invading our territory! We need to have enough men here to fight, uncle! We can't risk losing our city to them!"

"Our city?!" His uncle shouted furiously, "You mean my city! And by the gods, my priorities are on Kaerndal!" he started to breath deeply, "Now, I'm sorry, Seris. I have my steward to defend my tower, and the city. Lord Semyaza has sent a note to his cousin giving the order to send troops to help defend the city. You don't have to tell me to defend the city when I'm gone! I have half a mind to tell me so."

When he said that, the Emperor stormed off. His chest felt it was about to burst. He wanted to scream. He wanted to let out his inner fury, and break something. But he knew better than to throw a tantrum, so he bottled up his anger. Not for this, not now. He just couldn't relieve himself of this stress. He can't bear to take it. Now felt absolutely stupid. He had dropped to his knees, realizing what he said was stupid.

I was a fool! He thought to himself, despairingly, To think you wouldn't know how to do your job.

"At least the city should be safe." Hayliel tried to be hopeful. She went over to him.

"I know." He tried not to cry, "Gadreel is now in Equestria. And gods know what he'll do."