The flight back to Trazad was one of the longest Iresha had ever taken.  It was bad enough what he was leaving behind, but already knowing what he was going to find when he got home again…that made the seconds tick on into hours.  They made a brief pit-stop to collect the elder Rydell brother from the Buckler as they passed by, but otherwise, it was directly back to Sargon.


    The devastation Iresha saw as they passed over Kitez’s long and mostly-flat countryside was…disappointing.  Smaller towns were hit in the attacks, and thousands of people were injured and displaced, to say nothing of how many others had died.  The criticism he heard quietly made to the side of him was enough to draw his eyes back from the window, and he spotted the Fafnir Captain there.


    “It was all pointless, in the end.”


    Iresha blinked, but he’d recognize that spiky blonde hair anywhere, and he immediately knew who’d come up to him and why, “…Yeah.”


    “I know you probably don’t care to hear it, but since we’re both heading to the same place, I’ve been asked to act as an escort until you can get back to your people.” Furion noted; there was a rawness to his voice that even the unfamiliar Prince could hear, and Iresha just went back to the window.


    “If that’s what you have to do.”


    Furion took the seat opposite him – a pair of inward-facing seats that shared a fold-down table – and looked outside as well.  The ruin was easier to comprehend in the daylight of that following morning, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but it would mean a lot to Seth if you told him you were okay.”


    “…I had to leave my glasses back at home.  If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather tell him in person anyway.  I kind of ditched him without saying goodbye first, so I’m sure I’ll get an earful…”


    “I was going to call him for you, but okay…”


    “Are you going to get him or something?” Iresha wondered, “I can’t think of any other reason you’d be on this same ship.”


    Furion gave a solemn nod, “I guess I’m in a similar boat you’re in.  I have news that I’d rather give to my brother in person.”


    “It’s about Ren, right?”


    The older figure lifted his head, a stabbing pain in his throat catching him by surprise, but he cast his eyes away and nodded again, “One final atrocity for me to commit in service to this absurd conflict.”


    The Prince kept his silence then, brows furrowed slightly as he felt the weight of those words sit on his shoulders like sandbags.


    .


    As news broke across Hadira that the ‘Nightlong War’ had ended, and the pieces were starting to get picked up, Rylen prepared to give the worst announcement he’d ever made – second only to telling his people at the original crash-site that they would never be going home.  It was the first time he’d been back to Agartha since the fighting began, and he stood at the edge of the disaster-zone where Far’nah’s singular successful volley had made it through the Council’s defenses.


    He looked up solemnly at the image of the ravaged spire; it looked like it had been sand-blasted, set on fire, and then left on ‘tumble dry’ for days on end.  Bits of it were still flaking off in the high-altitude winds, and the landscape that surrounded it fared little better.  They were perhaps 8 miles away from the epicenter of the destruction, so while most of the buildings were still standing, every window had been shattered, every door blown off its hinges, and the streets were littered with rubble and broken vehicles.  It was surreal – post-apocalyptic, in a way – to see the normality of the emergency response pouring through those sundered streets, perfectly well and normal against a backdrop of such destruction.


    “…With casualty numbers still coming in, we have hit a grim milestone of 500,000 lives lost in the blast that struck the south of the city.” Rylen listened to the local broadcaster as he looked over the aid distribution maps on his overlay.  Of the nearly 115 square miles that had been destroyed by the attack, roughly half of it was actually within the city’s boundaries, while the rest of it was suburbs and parkland.  Still, hitting the spire was dumb, blind luck, and now it was a proverbial beehive of activity, with hundreds of small ships carefully approaching to get loaded-up with whoever they could find.


    “We’re ready for you, Lord Rylen.” A familiar voice messaged, and the Eidolon lifted his head, taking one last look around before dissolving.


    When he reappeared, he was near to Captain Landon, and stepped forward to a wide podium, with a rather large audience out ahead of him, waiting with baited breath for him to speak.  He nervously set his hands to the lip of the stand, and took a breath, “…I am sorry to have to be the one to bring this to all of you.  No doubt, many of you are wondering why it isn’t Xanarken of the Fourth up here.”  He began, with Captains Faust, Carjeelin, and Martell beside Captain Landon – commanders of the eastern and northern advances whose ships had survived, though not unscathed - in the background, “Let me be forward, then…  On the night of the Dawn of Ages, as we were all celebrating…a terrible calamity was rendered against Trazad in Sargon.  A ship from Kitez, bound for the city and expected by the Emperor, Iresha the Elder…landed, exploded, and killed both the Emperor and the Kitezan Duke, his cousin, Mardu.  In the ensuing chaos…Xanarken attempted to render aid, but something vexing came out of the wreckage…and as many of you may have already seen, there was a pillar of light that rose from the palatial cliffside during the blaze.  That light…caused a feedback loop through the Eidolon System that…killed him.”


    Etienne looked on worriedly as she listened to Rylen tell the lie…from the pod-room, at Xanarken’s side.  The pod gave off a cold aura, with a white mist fogging all around it, and the Fourth’s frozen face stuck – barely visible – within the ice.


    The announcement didn’t go unheard by the Wanderer’s crew, who were equal-parts anxious about Scyrexian’s absence as they were for Xanarken’s.  Phexides was the first to find out, and reactions were varied as they watched the Sixth’s speech.  Kourin was stunned to silence, retreated to her room, and refused to come out for days.  Tallus was initially shocked, but it was quickly replaced with anger, as everything they’d worked for had come to nothing.


    “…What are we supposed to do then?” Phexides wondered, “Xanarken was the keystone.”


    Tallus could only think for a moment, “…We go back.”


    “…Back?  To what?  Kitez is in ruins.  There’s nothing to go back to.”


    “The Council.” He clarified, which only made the younger figure tilt his head.  Tallus rubbed his face with both palms, then combed them back up over his head and through his hair, “…All three of us this time, too.  No more splitting up, no more going out of contact for months at a time.  And we’re not coming back until we have what we need.”


    .


    The ship’s arrival in Trazad was a somber affair; on the one hand, the last surviving member of Sargon’s royal family was finally home.  On the other, however, he was returning to cinders.  The ship’s dock and cliffside access-road were untouched by the blast, and Iresha exited to the despairing welcomes of his late father’s counselors and advisors, and a number of the household’s surviving staff and protectors.  At a distance, beyond the tall metal gates that divided the private residential parts of the palace from the public side, Iresha could see the swollen crowds trying to catch a glimpse.


    The teen’s brows crinkled a little; part of him was glad to see so many of his people would even bother showing up to see his arrival, but another part was just upset that there was any need for it.  He raised one of his hands to acknowledge them, and they cheered, even if there was a melancholy to it.


    “We’re so relieved that you’re alive…” The minders commented, drawing the Prince’s attention back again, “We were certain that you were with your father when the blast occurred…”


    “We were told by the First that you had been sent to Oceanside but no one could tell us why.  All of our pleas to the Fourth have gone unanswered…”


    “We must carry-out the crowning ceremony as soon as possible, Prince Iresha…”


    “IRESHAAAAA!”


    That got his attention in a hurry, and he looked immediately away from the counselors to the fence again.  He couldn’t figure out exactly where the call had come from, but when he heard it a second time, he zeroed-in on that pale face within the writhing mass of people, “Seth?”


    “OVER HEEEERE!  IRESHAAAAA!”


    None of those crusty old men could stop him fast enough, and the Prince took off, weaving through and over the pulverized gardens and charred landscaping, until he got to the fence.  Seth held to those bars like a prisoner on the wrong side, “You’re…how did you know I was…?”


    The screaming and grief-stricken wailing from the nearby crowd made it impossible to hear whatever the younger Rydell was trying to say, and even the Prince’s own request for the mass of people to simmer-down went unheard and unheeded.  It was providence – the way they suddenly shrieked and tumbled back on one another – when a whole man suddenly leapt up on top of the fence, perched precariously between the pointed spokes.


    “Everyone, get back!” Furion barked, and finished the maneuver by landing on the other side.  Seth was flummoxed by his brother’s unexpected appearance, but was grateful for it all the same, even as he had the wind knocked out of him by the grab-and-jump that took him over the top.  The landing was near as hard as the inertia from the launch, but Furion set then younger teen down and dusted him off, then gestured to let him say what he’d been trying to before.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Words didn’t need to be said…not at first, anyway, as Iresha’s hope for a less-than-gloomy reception were dashed by a sudden swat across the top of his head.  He didn’t even have a chance to complain about it before Seth glomped onto him with a worried hug.


    “You scared the shit out of me.” Seth scolded, and let go again just as the Prince’s face went red in confusion, “You didn’t say bye, you didn’t even say you were leaving, and then you wouldn’t answer my calls while the literal whole gods-damned palace was on fire!”


    “…You saw it…?”


    “Of course I saw it!  What did you think happened to me after I got kicked out!?”


    “…I don’t know, I didn’t…” Iresha noted, even as Seth flailed him back and forth by his tightly-grasped arms, “S-s-s-s-o-o-o-rr-rr-rr-y-y-y-y-y-y…”


    “Honestly, you’re as bad as Miss Ren, just disappearing without saying anything…  Only reason I didn’t smack her was because she’d be probably have put me in the ground for it.” Seth continued, not noticing the subdued affect from his brother for mentioning the name, “Though I guess you could probably do the same to me, if…  Oh…oh, shit, I’m sorry, I was being selfish and overbearing.” Seth gave a rather deep and dramatic bow, “Forgive me!”


    Iresha shook his head to get his bearings back, but then stepped forward to force his friend upright again, “You bow to no one here.  I won’t have it.”


    “Even so, you just…  I mean, your…  The Emperor…” Seth blabbered anyway.


    The Prince just gave a strange, sad look, “Seth…  You…  It’s fine.” He sank into himself a little bit, unsure how to say ‘we’re about to be mutuals in grief’ without actually saying it that way.  He just shook his head slightly and took a step back, and gave a subtle gesture to the elder Rydell, “I’m glad you came up here to catch my landing.  But…you should talk to your brother…”


    Seth turned, “…Furion?”


    The elder was a bit surprised – he hadn’t expected such a quick segue – but he bowed his head slightly and raised an arm to guide the younger teen away from the prying eyes and ears of the crowd.  Once they were far enough away, and Seth’s heart was high enough in his throat to choke him from the nerves…Furion turned, and lowered down until he was sitting on his knees.


    “I’m sorry…” Was all he could manage to say at first, and he reached into his jacket to withdraw a small velvet box.  He set his fingers atop the lid, “…Ren didn’t make it…”


    To hear the words come from Furion’s mouth, Seth wasn’t sure he could hear at all anymore.  He didn’t believe it at first, even as the little box was opened and a pure-white lock of hair - bound by a navy-blue ribbon for the Sixth - was presented to him.  His hands trembled as he took it, and his breath caught in his chest.  He thought he’d pass out on his feet, but collapsing to his knees shocked him enough to remember how to breathe again, and he let out the most haggard cry.


    Begging, pleading, threatening…none of it helped.  The sadness wormed its way deeply, and even when Iresha succumbed to his own finally, and stumbled down to the ragged ground to give what comfort his aching frame could offer, Seth couldn’t stop himself from sobbing.  He leaned into Iresha’s shoulder, and brought a free hand up to cover his eyes as the other held to the little box.


    Furion trembled where he knelt, tears streaming down his own face, but refusing to let himself make a sound.  He just clenched his eyes shut and bent his head down, fists clamped tightly over his thighs, feeling everything come crashing down around him.


    By the time they were able to call their parents about the loss, they could only do so by written message.  Lequerion saw it as he was helping guide ships towards the broken spire, and had to land to read it again.  Even the veteran had to stop what he was doing to process what the words meant, and he, too, collapsed to his knees for the despair of it.


    .


    The ship that would take Gabriel back to Agartha finally departed from Oceanside around three days after the fighting ended.  Boarding it felt like a procession, as all those faces watched him and offered that unfortunate deference to the soon-to-be fully-fledged Eidolon.  His eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and grief though; every time he looked up, he could swear he saw Ren in the crowd somewhere, only to blink and she’d be gone again, so he just kept them down.


    He was a mess.  He hadn’t changed his clothes or showered since he was made to watch Ren’s armor disappear into the pre-dawn clouds, and his hair was still matted from the blood – his own and hers.  He was little more than a shadow of himself, and needed help just to get to the cabin he’d been given for the trip.  Blank eyes stared forward at nothing; the world was passing him by, and all he noticed was the blur.


    He wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep from the sheer exhaustion, or if he’d just gone into some half-lucid trance, but he became aware of his surroundings suddenly, and he was on his side.  His whole body felt 10x heavier than it ever did, and it was a struggle to get back upright.  When he finally got there though, he collapsed forward, elbows on his knees as a pained gasp escaped him.  Hands extended, and he looked at the way the red-brown crust was starting to flake away from his skin.  It dried into every crease of his fingers and under his nails, and made his half-gloves dirty.


    Gabriel could hardly believe the nerve it took for whoever it was that had just pinged his door in that moment.  Even after he tried to ignore it, the ping came again…and again…until it was so annoying that he was forced to get up and stumble over.  He was ready to hit someone after three days of torpor, but when he opened the door…no one was there.  Except for a cat, who trilled and let itself in between his ankles.


    The feline went quite a ways into the room before pausing to sit and look back, casting those bright orange eyes up at the ragged Fourth.  Words were wasted in that moment, so the cat only meowed loudly, and Gabriel grudgingly closed the door again.  Boots shuffled across the floor, and Gabriel made his way slowly back to the room he’d come from before so he could sit back down on the narrow bed.


    Rylen hopped up onto the blankets and sat down a couple feet away, examining the figure carefully before saying anything.  Gabriel looked as much like death as Rylen had ever seen, and those grey ears went back slightly, “I’ve been told you haven’t spoken a word to anyone since you got picked up.” He started, and leaned his head slightly to see if the man would react, but nothing happened, “…You won’t eat, sleep…take care of yourself…  The Fourth Wing is scrambling to pick up the pieces where Xanarken left them.  They need you.”


    Red eyes lifted slightly to look at the glowing portal-like window ahead of him, and cracked lips moved, “…She’s haunting me…”


    The First lowered down to the blanket and tucked his paws under his chest, “I know what that’s like.  Probably more than you know.”


    “I didn’t…know this kind of pain existed…” Gabriel continued, voice weak and raspy, “My whole body hurts…my head hurts…my throat is raw…  It’s like someone took a hammer to every nerve coursing through me…  And my heart…it’s so empty…  The void inside…I feel like I’ll just implode on myself and fall into it…”


    “Grief is a special kind of agony, and only those who’ve gone through it will understand.” Rylen said quietly, “And it never really goes away, either…  You just make room for it.”


    “I can’t take Xanarken’s place…not like this…” Gabriel added grimly, “I’m completely useless…  I can’t think about anything except…that moment…”


    The feline lifted his head again, “You and I are a lot more alike now than we were before.  But I can safely say, as an expert on the matter…if you give yourself time and room to go through the process, you’ll find your way back to a place where you can feel close to normal again.”


    “How do I manage that when I’ve got you guilt-tripping me about taking the reins of the Fourth already?”


    “Part of the process is finding routine to stick to.” Rylen answered, and pushed up again.  He walked a few steps closer to the side of the bed that Gabriel had sat against, and sat close beside him that time, “Routine and structure will help you keep your thoughts organized.  I know what you’re going through right now, and I know it’s putting you into a self-perpetuating cycle that’s slowly killing you.  This moment, right now, is probably the more conscious you’ve been since…that moment.”


    “Furion took her from me…  I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye; he just…made her body stand up, right in front of me, and took her away.  I…” Gabriel drew in a few shaken breaths, and lowered his head, “I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop myself from killing him if I ever see him again…”


    “Killing Captain Rydell won’t bring Dame Ren back though.” The First countered, “I know about what happened.  Before.  What he did…had to be done.  …That’s part of why he’s Captain; he’s one of those kinds of people who can completely divorce himself from his personal feelings and still do what’s necessary.  So, you can hate him all you want…but, he did the right thing.”


    Gabriel could only hiccup a few agonized breaths, and he lifted a hand to cover his eyes.


    Rylen looked on quietly for a little while, but for the time being, he knew there wasn’t much more he could do.  He put a paw on the man’s thigh, “I’ll have Etienne check on you in a while.  There’s still four hours left to get to the city.  There’s a lot of freedom that comes with using a mantle, you know?  …So, if you need, just take a few days to get used to things before you talk to anyone.  You’ll feel better once you don’t have to think about the chores of keeping yourself alive on purpose, too.  Although you should try to eat something before you drop.  …Okay?”


    No answer came.


    “Okay.” Rylen said again, and pulled the paw back before dubiously letting his mantle dissolve.


    Gabriel just sat there in agonizing silence for a few minutes, holding his face in the palms of his hands as the rage and helplessness pulsed through him like arcs of jolting electricity.  There was food on a table in the previous room, but he ignored it as he went to the restroom instead, dropping his nanotech raiment as he went.


    The words echoed in his head unbidden, ricocheting like a rock inside a cup, gnawing at every last nerve.  Even when he pulled his gloves off and let his hands soak under the warm water from the sink-faucet, it did little to soothe him.  He could only bring some of that water up to his face and hold there, feeling it hot against his skin like…  Gabriel parted his fingers just enough to look through them, and he saw for the first time his own reflection…and how his right eye was now as red as the left.


    But also, the visage of Ren – battered, broken, bleeding, and defeated – standing behind him in the mirror…and staring at him with those empty eye-sockets, “Let me in…”


    Gabriel gasped a scream as he jumped and spun around, painfully jamming his back against the vanity before realizing there was nothing there.  Still, he slid down to the ground, his whole body trembling in terror.  He pulled his knees up, and bent his arms up over his bowed head, sobbing all over again as he collapsed to his side.


    .


    Some of that little escort-ship’s crew were perplexed by the sight of a little blood-trail going through the corridors.  It was like someone had cut their hand, and just let it drip as they took a stroll.  Two of them decided to follow it, and found their way directly in front of the Fourth Eidolon’s cabin door.  Immediately concerned, they hauled-ass the other way, and followed it down into the hangar on the lowest floor.


    The docking-bay had a number of smaller, personal skiffs parked there, and the door out the back was not nearly the size of the ones at the back of a SkyFortress, so opening it took only around half a minute.  Whatever fear Gabriel once had for looking out from so high up seemed like such a distant concept, that now, as he stood only a few paces from the open ledge, he no longer felt it.  If his heart beat at all anymore, he was sure it was only a symbolic gesture; there was so much pain and tightness in his chest that he didn’t think there was room for anything else.  The hollow voices of worried crew called out to him, but he couldn’t hear them anymore.


    He could swear he saw Ren out there in the sky, flying freely and happily.  Maybe it was a hallucination, or wishful thinking…or her ghost, he wasn’t sure…but she came closer to the open door, and held her hands out.  There was warmth, even in that high, biting wind…and Gabriel reached back.


    One step closer to the edge…two…


    .


    .


    …and he was gone.