-One Year Later-


    The Eastern Royal Memorial in Trazad sat where the palace once did.  The residence had been completely taken down, the ground repurposed, and a grand statue of the late Emperor erected to face the western skies.  Were one curious enough to inquire, one would learn that those marble eyes were looking directly towards Oceanside, thousands of miles away.


    Surrounding the Sargonian memorial were hundreds of people from the public, as well as the country’s leadership…but not a single Eidolon, soldier, nor any of the imagery of Kitez.  When now-Emperor Iresha the Younger arrived with the memorial wreath, people looked on quietly.


    Though Kitez’s iconography had been entirely banned by then, at least from official proceedings, Iresha had taken it upon himself to incorporate some of their design-choices into his new government.  His own Imperial regalia – though mostly Sargonian in influence, with the two-layer pauldrons, cape, and decorative armor – now also bore a similar overlapping weave-pattern to the chest-plate, and he carried something akin to the Kitezan antler-crown atop his head.  With that long, spikey black hair poking through it, the crown itself began at a downward-facing point at his brow, and gradually curved up and back above his ears before finally rising up above his head with the beams, tines, and hanging chimes.


    The ceremony’s moment of silence carried throughout the crowd, and as soon as it was over, the public began to disperse.  Iresha stayed where he was though, and merely made his way around to the front of the statue so he could better see his father’s face.  It didn’t take long for him to notice someone approaching from the side – someone who hadn’t been part of the official retinue – but he supposed he knew who it was based on the dark coloration it bore, “I didn’t think the Council would be sending anyone.”


    “I’m not here on their behalf.”


    Iresha turned where he stood, and spotted that familiar face.  Though there was a melancholy to his smile, he still managed one, “So you came after all.  Was starting to think you were avoiding me.”


    Seth shook his head – he looked more and more like his elder brother as he grew taller, but he never let his bangs grow past his cheeks, and unlike Furion’s sharper maternal-line features, Seth retained the softer ones of his father’s side.  Though he didn’t have a formal uniform of the First on, his more-casual attire did reference back to them, with its dark greys and navy blues.  He stepped closer, well-enough known by Iresha’s guard that they didn’t need to always be told to let him through, and they gave one another that greeting hug.  Seth was easily four inches taller than the Emperor by then, and had to look down a little to see him better, “How are you holding up?”


    “Guess I can’t complain.” The Emperor answered, and the two started walking along the refurbished gardens.  Iresha glanced out past the cliff, towards the lake, “Hard to believe it’s already been a year since it all happened.  Feels like such a blur.”


    “Me, too.” Seth agreed, “I hardly recognize the places I go…all the faces are new…”


    “Is that why you came here instead?”


    Seth nodded, and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, “Today’s the Dawn, but because it’s also the anniversary of Lord Xanarken’s passing, the mood is…really dour.  Not to mention, all the new Fafnir…  I dunno, I just can’t connect with them the way I did the last group.”


    “I’m not surprised.” Iresha answered, clasping his hands loosely behind his back.


    “Why’s that?”


    “You grew up with the others.  This new crop, you’ve met after already being an adult.  Not to mention…it’s probably harder to want to form attachments to people after you lost so many last year.” The Emperor noted, and glanced back over his shoulder to look at the statue as it got further away…and spotted the guard keeping a cozy distance as they followed, “I only lost my father…you lost nearly everyone.”


    Seth went quiet, feeling the sting in his eyes, and he reached up to rub the heel of his palm across them, “…I thought I’d be okay today, but I guess you’re right.  I kind of envy my dad and brother for how they’re holding up…  I can tell they’re hurting, especially Furion, but…they’re both so much better at carrying-on than I am.”


    “I’m perpetually surrounded by people who had no emotional attachment to the family I lost.” Iresha added quietly, “…It’s hard being the only one left.  Everyone else is so down to business, it’s like my grief is just an inconvenience for them.  I get a break from the work only for today because the date is significant for the country, but…”


    “…Oh, is that what you finally decided to do?”


    “Eh?”


    Seth shrugged his shoulders up, “You said country, but I feel like you meant Kitez, too, since…”


    “Ah…yeah.” Iresha looked west over the water, “It’s all Sargon now.  Kitez is just the biggest province.  I’m supposed to meet the new Conclave later tonight to figure out if I want to break it down into the original districts, like East and West Oriban…but, yeah…  Just a province, now.”


    “I heard you weren’t going to come back once you get to Oceanside.  What’s up with that?”


    “Time-sharing.” Iresha answered simply, “Sargon is so big now, and the Kitezan people still so devastated, that I agreed to rule from Oceanside for a year.  Make them feel like I’m paying attention to them specifically, rather than as an afterthought.”


    “I see…”


    “I’ve thought about founding a new capitol in the mountains, but I don’t know if the logistics make sense.  Trazad and Oceanside are really inconveniently far from each other…”


    “When are you supposed to leave?”


    Iresha huffed half a laugh and nudged his head back towards the following retinue, “As soon as they can corral me towards the flagship.”


    “Oh…am I getting in the way?”


    “Nah.” Iresha shook his head, but paused in their walk, and Seth paused as well.  He reached out to set a hand onto the taller teen’s arm, “You should come.  If you don’t want to go back to the Aegis right now, you’re welcome to attend the western memorial ceremony.  I’d be glad for some non-stuffy company anyway.”


    “…I…think I’d like that.”


    .


    The most direct route from Trazad to Oceanside was now over the Exclusion Zone, rather than a long, curving arc southwest around the bottom of it.  The mountains and forests were endless, it seemed, and Seth could only look out one of the ship’s many windows to behold it, “…And you still won’t let Lord Rylen in there?  It’s just woods, isn’t it?”


    “Spooky woods that, for whatever reason, Kitez was Hellbent on keeping secure and empty for as long as we knew they were trying.” Iresha answered, looking out the next window over, “I have my people in there trying to figure out its secrets, but it’s such a huge place, it’ll probably take years.”


    “And lots of dangerous people hide in there…”


    “Mmmh…”


    Seth glanced up, looking a bit sheepish, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…”


    “It’s fine.”


    “It’s not, though…  Mr. Gabriel came from there, too, and he-”


    “Hmph, you still call him that?” Iresha teased, and leaned back in his seat again, “Even after he got promoted?”


    “…It feels weird to say anything else.”


    “I guess I understand.  You never changed how you spoke to me either.” Iresha puffed, and crossed one leg over the other as he leaned against the curled knuckles of his upturned fist, elbow on the armrest, “So what’s Lord Rylen doing today anyway?  Or do you even know?”


    “I do…” Seth curled his hands onto his lap, and looked at them intently, “He’s doing a tour of the crash-sites, honoring the fallen with their own little ceremonies, and then…he’ll go back to Agartha for the memorial to Lord Xanarken.  I don’t know if he’s going to do anything for the Dawn this year though.  Seems kind of a mum occasion, and no one in the Council is particularly keen for the whiplash of going from honoring the dead to celebrating the miraculous survival of our ancestors.” He couldn’t help but give air-quotes for that, and shook his head as he set his balled-up hands to his lap again, “He is still pretty upset about…well, Trazad, though.”


    Iresha looked on with a stoney expression, “Xanarken didn’t die in Trazad.  That memorial site is for my people.”


    “I know, but…it’s the spot where his mantle was attacked.  I just…think it would’ve been better if you’d let the Council have something there.”


    “They got the spot at Oceanside.  There’s still a lot of hostility towards the Council about the fact that any of the fighting happened at all, so I took it under advisement that we keep the Trazad memorial for us exclusively.” The Emperor explained, though he could tell it wasn’t well-received, “What?”


    “…I get it, but you don’t have to sound so mean about it.” The teen noted quietly, “I’m supposed to be your friend, not a Fourth Wing mediator you’re arguing with.”


    Iresha grumbled to himself and leaned forward, setting his elbows onto his knees as he tried to get into the Rydell’s line of sight, “Sorry.  It’s been a month since we spent any time together…I guess I got so used to standing my ground against the stiffs that I forgot how to turn Imperial-mode off.”


    Seth turned his eyes up briefly, but then looked back to his fists again, “…Yeah…”


    That didn’t settle well, and Iresha sat back up again, unsure what more to say for a little while.  He crossed his arms and turned his attention back out the window, watching those myriad, endless forests pass by.


    Arriving at Oceanside closer to dusk, the same memorial service carried out as had before, this time placing the wreath at the feet of an eastern-facing statue of the murdered Duke Mardu.  The entire New Conclave that Iresha had spoken about was there, standing in front of the public like sentinels, and though they bore similar uniforms – still the dark grey with lighter trim, and their white cloaks – they now also bore small shoulder-caps to remind them whose Empire they were working in.


    The palace had been completely demolished, leaving something of a pit where it once overlooked the western ocean.  It had been filled-in with dirt and rock, and allowed the waters to reach into an artificial bay.  At the eastern crest, the statue of Mardu stood, symbolically putting the Duchy of Kitez behind him.


    It was unmistakable when Seth caught-sight of a group of five particular lights on the sunsetting-sky, and while surprised at when they appeared, wasn’t surprised that they appeared, “…They’re here.  I should go.”


    “Alright…” Iresha answered, and could only watch as the teen departed.


    It wasn’t a far distance to go – the beachhead beneath the ruins of the palace only took a few minutes to get to when walking through the original halls – but Seth still had to meander around the reconstructed layout, and followed a path around the rim of the crater that safely led him to the rocky shores.  The distinctive mechanical hiss of the Fafnir flying overhead was easy to make-out as the group got closer to the ground, only flying as fast as they had to, and no more, to get to that somber site.  Seth was able to catch-up to them only a short while later.


    Wing-optics had already been turned off, but Seth still knew who they each were from just their armor.  His father and brother were the most obvious, but also Corbin, Ravan, and Jense were there; the only survivors of the previous generation.  They were in the process of taking their helmets off when Seth appeared on the beach with them, and were surprised to see him.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    “…Where in the world did you…?” Lequerion stammered, and came back through the pack to greet his kid, “I thought you weren’t going to be part of anything today.”


    Seth let go of the hug, and looked around, giving a bit of a wave to the others, “…I didn’t want to be on the Aegis, that’s all.  I went to keep Iresha company instead.”


    “Well, you’re welcome to sit with us if you want.  You know why we’re here…”


    “Yeah…”


    There was still a little bit of the palace left-over, scattered across the shore like the ruins of some ancient temple, half-reclaimed by the tide.  The water-level was high at that time of the evening, licking at the remnants of the veranda…and the broken wall that the Fafnir had gathered for.  The red stain from the fight had largely faded, though was still evident even after a year, seeped into the porous rock to leave a ruddy brownish tint in place of what was once fresh.


    Lequerion couldn’t help but sigh, and approached the slanted section of ruin.  He pulled out a small candle from a satchel he’d brought, set it at the base – where a placard had been installed, reading [Here fell a Captain of the Fafnir Knights; Ren Nibasai.  Loyal friend, skilled warrior, and desperately missed] – and lit the wick.


    “…I’ve been here four times since last year and it never gets easier.” Furion commented quietly, and set a hand around his brother’s shoulders.


    “…I couldn’t stand to come here at all.” The teen answered, feeling his eyes starting to water already as his father came back towards them, and they all crouched on the flat of the stone flooring, shattered as it was, “I should’ve come sooner…”


    “You’re here now.” Lequerion answered, and though Seth nodded, they all fell quiet, bowing their heads.


    The little flame flickered, casting a faint light onto the metal nameplate.  Each of the Fafnir grieved in their own way – Ravan had been brought to tears as quickly as Seth had, but the others were able to maintain a grudging stoic demeanor – and Seth felt for the bauble he’d kept hidden under his shirt.  Withdrawing it revealed a locket-like resin stone, within which was a part of the lock of hair Furion had brought to him.  He looked at it quietly, keeping it in the palm of his hand before pressing it against the center of his chest as he tried to keep his sadness quiet.


    Furion pulled him close to his side – in part, a subtle reminder not to let the others see the keepsake – and offered what comfort he could.  They stayed there until the sun had completely set, and each of them approached the broken wall to give some private comment before taking off into the sky again.  Furion wasn’t sure what to say on his own, and simply pressed his hand to the stains with a sad look and a solemn apology, then stepped back so Seth could have his turn.


    Lequerion got his attention quietly, “The Aegis will be staying at the wreckage of the Ward for a couple days to help get the Core out.  You can hang out here for a while if you want.”


    “Yessir.”


    He pat the man on a shoulder before reactivating his wing-optics, turned to look one last time at the little memorial, and finally went after the others.  The two brothers stayed a little while longer though, and sat back down again in front of the shattered wall.


    Furion sat in contemplative silence as his younger brother grieved, and lifted his knees to rest his arms above them, fingers looped into one another.  The imagery of Ren’s P.O.V. lingered in his mind, as well as that haunting monotone voice that spoke later.  His eyes narrowed grimly, She was already gone when Scyrexian started taunting Lugios…and yet, even after he came back, it didn’t speak again.  …Why not?  It would’ve been such a simple thing to lie that Ren’s life would be saved if Lugios took it in like it wanted…  All these opportunities it had to bargain for a swap, and it kept missing them…  I don’t understand that creature…  Maybe…even in death, Ren was protecting him…  He could only bow his head down against his folded thumbs as the questions raced.


    “…When can I tell the others about what happened to her…?” Seth’s voice cut through the fog in Furion’s head, and the man looked up, “I’ve been keeping this peace for a year.  Surely, I can say something now…?  Lord Rylen had her cremated and put into the memorial like all the others…  Scyrexian can’t hurt anyone anymore…”


    “Don’t you want them to remember her as she was, not as what she became?” Furion answered with his own question, “Dying as Scyrexian’s vessel – losing a fight only because it literally stopped her moving – wouldn’t sit well with any of them.”


    “…They all know she should’ve won.” Seth argued bitterly, clasping the bauble tighter in his palm, “They all just assume Laurier played dirty somehow at the end.  Or that Mr. Gabriel came back too early, and distracted her like at the Connington Fragment…”


    “You and I both know you’re not supposed to know the details about that mission.  They don’t, so don’t go putting opinion in their heads that they can’t have.”


    Seth clenched his whole body in annoyance, but twisted in his seat so he could ‘walk’ closer to the wall on just his knees.  He sat back once there, and put his free hand on the dusty, rough surface, “…It’s hard to keep track of all the things I know that they don’t.  It’s…probably for the best that I don’t hang-out on the Aegis anymore.  I’d spill the beans by mistake sooner or later.”


    “You’re welcome aboard the ship anytime, Seth.”


    “…I don’t want to go anymore…” He answered, his voice strained, “Every inch of that place…it just reminds me of her.  I don’t know how you can stand being there now.”


    “I can’t.  Why do you think dad’s Captain again and I’m not?”


    Seth turned back slightly, “I thought you lost rank because of lying to Lord Rylen.”


    “…That’s only the official reason.” Furion sighed, “After Ren died, having to pilot her body back was the worst thing I’ve ever done.  She hated my guts for commandeering her the first time, and then I had to do it again.  I told pops after that, that I couldn’t be trusted to make decisions for the team anymore…” He parted his knees to sit cross-legged instead, and bent down over the gap, sagging in defeat, “Ren was right to challenge me for command.  But for two days, that plaque ought to read ‘The Captain,’ not just ‘a Captain.’  I’m barely fit to return to the Wing Commander rank.  We’re damn lucky dad was willing to come back…  I can wander around that tomb of a fortress and not think about being responsible for anyone.”


    Seth slouched in his spot as well, and reached up to rub his nose, “…Mom is still mad about it.”


    “Still mad at me for it, you mean.”


    “No…just mad in general.” He corrected back, “Dad was supposed to stay home and help raise Suzu.  Then he volunteered to get back in the Captain’s seat, and no one knows when he’ll be able to leave.”


    “…Because I’m not sitting in it anymore.”


    “…Fine…mad at you.” Seth twisted around and lurched forward, holding to the bauble with one hand as he pointed at his older brother with the other, “If you don’t want me telling the others the truth about what happened to Miss Ren, then for the same reason, you have to be content to let mom believe you got demoted for lying to your Eidolon.  The day you come clean to her has to be the same day I’m allowed to talk, too.”


    “…Fair, I guess.  Which will be never.”


    “Then we’ll both just have to ruminate in our vows of uncomfortable silence.”


    And in said silence, they ruminated until the candle went out, and Seth grudgingly fumbled his way towards the beach.  Furion reactivated his wing-optics – only the singular pair now – and bathed the entire area in a subtle white light, “…Let me at least fly you back up.  It’s a long trek by foot in the dark.”


    “You can walk me back if you want, but I’m not getting carried anywhere.” Seth countered, still going.


    The former Captain gave a somewhat pained look, but glided over to catch up, and landed beside the teen.  The walk all the way back up the hill took quite a while longer than it took for Seth to come stumbling down it, and by the time they were within sight of the statue, they could also hear something of an argument happening.  The brothers glanced at each other before quickly trotting closer to find out what was going on.


    Iresha was being put on blast, though he didn’t seem to be taking it all that personally, simply sitting back on one of the memorial park’s benches as the New Conclave members lit him up over the presence of a certain figure.


    “It’s disrespectful for him to be here!”


    “Send him away!  This is still sovereign territory, even if you allow the Council to come and go!”


    “A conqueror has no need to rub the noses of the conquered in the dirt.”


    Iresha finally lost patience and threw his hands up to silence the group, then slapped them down onto his knees, “Everyone just shut up.  Lord Rylen can go wherever he wants.  Sargon may not have joined the Accord still, but I never told them they couldn’t come here.  The same agreement stands now as did a year ago…the Council can enter and leave from Sargonian airspace freely.  My only adage was that they couldn’t hold a memorial service on top of ours.”


    “Much to my chagrin.” Rylen grumbled quietly, unheard by the group as he looked up at the statue.


    “Your Majesty!”


    “…Need you all be reminded…” Came a rather uncomfortably familiar voice, “…That the only reason any of you are Magistrates right now is because of being grandfathered in from the Old Guard?”


    Those elderly former Magistrates – now reinstated – took a skittish step back from the Emperor, who remained sat upon his bench, unmoved by the new arrival.  He didn’t need to look back to see the man as he heard the telltale sound of nanotech coming together to form yet another mantle, and the sound of the footsteps that followed.


    “You were phased out by the Duchess by virtue of the fact that you weren’t fanatically in favor of her approach.” The voice continued, and Rylen turned slightly to watch the other Eidolon manifest, “Which makes you barely-ideal to serve in the positions you now hold.  Soon, you’ll be phased out again…so never let yourselves believe that you are anything more than an acting Conclave.”


    “…L-Lord Gabriel…”


    Seth felt his heart in his throat to see the man there – short blonde hair, without a drop of red to speak of streaking the tips, and two very blue eyes – and he backed-up a little where he and Furion had arrived at the edge of the concourse.  Furion just about snatched his brother and took off flying anyway, but Seth seemed to sense his arm coming around and swatted it away.


    “Your Conclave is temporary.” The Fourth continued sternly, and stopped walking only when he came to stand beside Iresha, “The moment your replacements are trained and in position, your merry little gang will be disbanded.  You are not here to tell the Emperor what to do or what decisions he should make.  You are not executing the will of a conquered, defeated, and dissolved nation.  You are only here to carry out his will in your districts.”


    “…Y-yessir…Lord Gabriel…”


    Those cool azure eyes narrowed slightly, “Then we understand each other.  Go back to your posts.  The Emperor has no need for harassment on this of all nights.”


    The Conclave scuttled away like wet cats, and Iresha tilted his head slightly to watch them go.  He sat up and back again, and with one leg crossed over the other, he set his arms over the back-rest, and looked up at the Eidolon, “You aren’t doing your reputation any favors when you act like that, you know.”


    “The Mad Dog of the Empire.” Rylen quipped as he returned, though that only earned a steely, middling sneer from the Fourth, “Fitting that he’d be so well-intended to defend what you’ve gained.”


    “The scolding was unnecessary.” Iresha shrugged, “Sometimes I just like to watch them squirm.”


    “Have you given any further thought to my request?” The First wondered, “You’ve been stonewalling me for a year on this.”


    “…And it continues to be denied.” The Emperor leaned forward to get back up to his feet, and looked at the Eidolon directly, “My forces will secure the Exclusion Zone before you gain access.  That’s been the case from the start.”


    “It doesn’t make any sense though.”


    “Every ruler of Kitez has worked tirelessly to keep the Council out of those woods.  I intend to find out its secrets myself.  Whatever it is they’ve been hiding in there, I want to know what it is before I cut you loose.” Iresha argued, “That’s the agreement I came to with Lugios after my coronation last year, when this whole thing first came up.”


    Rylen glared at the Fourth, but Gabriel said nothing; instead, he just walked by, and headed for the foot of the statue.


    “If it makes the sting hurt any less, however…I do have something for you that you might be interested in.” Iresha continued, and from his hand, he formed a data-nodule, offering it to the drow, “Another Void Scar has opened, this time close to where the Ward went down.”


    Rylen looked at the nodule dubiously, but extended his hand to ‘absorb’ the information into his mantle, “You seem to be enjoying the luxuries of the Council.  It’s such a shame you refuse to reciprocate.”


    “I’ve given you everything else you asked for, Lord Rylen.” Iresha countered, “Don’t push your luck.”  He then turned, and waved at where he knew Seth had been hiding at the outskirts, “Oi!  C’mon!  We’re going!”


    Seth nearly jumped out of his skin, but skulked over anyway, keeping a wide berth from the Fourth, “…Please don’t say you waited all this time for me to come back.  You could’ve left a long time ago.”


    “Why wouldn’t I wait?”


    “You’re the Emperor.  Your schedule comes first, not mine.”


    “I don’t have a schedule today.  It’s freestyle.  Invite your brother if you want, too.”


    Seth could feel his heart burst, and he nervously looked towards Lord Gabriel as the man slowly rose back up to standing, having knelt before to pay his respects.  He then looked back towards where Furion was standing a moment before, only to see that the Fafnir had shut his wing-optics off and turned his back to the scene.  Gabriel came walking back after that, and paused beside the First.  For a moment, Seth was certain those eyes were staring straight at him, and he gave a meek wave, but the Fourth turned away almost immediately, gave some kind of acknowledgement to Rylen, and then vanished without another word.


    “Seth, back to the Aegis you go.” Rylen suddenly ordered, “You have a Void Scar to investigate.  Your Majesty.” He gave a subtle bow towards the Emperor, then disappeared as well.


    The blonde heaved a breath and sat down on the bench before he could collapse, though that only earned a scolding from Iresha, “…You really shouldn’t let him make you feel that way.”


    “You don’t understand.” Seth panted, clutching at his chest, and the keepsake hidden in his clothes, “He’s a completely different person now…  Ever since Miss Ren…he’s been…”


    Iresha could only cross his arms and look at the spot where the Fourth had vanished from, “…I guess everyone mourns in their own way.”


    “I don’t want to go back to the Aegis…” Seth whined worriedly, and heard the sound of his brother’s armored bootsteps coming closer.  He slouched and pushed back up to his feet, his heart slowly climbing out of his throat as it calmed down again.


    “This is the third Scar that’s opened in as many months.  Kitez must’ve always been rich with these things.” Iresha commented as Furion got closer, “Maybe they just didn’t care enough to investigate.  That one that got you sent here before was the only one I knew about before taking control, and that’s only because of the massive shitstorm it turned out to be.”


    Seth swallowed a painful lump in his throat, but nodded, “It’s…probably because of proximity to the Exclusion Zone…”


    “Oh, don’t you start.  You’re too cozy with Lord Rylen for that to not turn into a request for reconsideration.”


    “I’m just saying…” Seth countered, voice feeling hoarse all over again.  He looked over at the other teen, “…I guess I have no choice though.  Maybe I’ll see you again sometime soon.”


    “Yeah.  Soon.  Be careful out there.”