"Hi," Fiesi offers awkwardly, lowering his hand. A grin lights up his eyes in azure, and he sinks into a deep, exaggerated bow. "You must be his highest and most honourable majesty, king of these holy lands. It's a blessing to be in your exalted presence, most divine ruler of the humble people."

Sarielle rubs at the bridge of her nose with both hands, closing her eyes with a pained sigh. In the corner nearest the door, Dalton looks ready to disappear into the floorboards.

I have to bite down on my tongue to smother a laugh. Fiesi certainly knows how to destroy tension. It's as if he scented our trouble and has made it his mission to stir up more.

Cyneric is momentarily stunned. "Are you mocking me?"

Fiesi sinks to one knee, his smirk obvious. "I would never, your royal excellence."

Reuben appears beside us, panic flitting into his expression. "For star's sake, close the door."

Rising in a rush, Fiesi sticks a foot inside the door to wedge it open before it can shut in his face. "Hold on." Resting a hand beside the hinges, he cranes his neck to peer around the baffled king. "Sarie, you've got some coin, right? Harper's using his to pay for rooms and he insists that stealing food is somehow unproductive."

With another sigh, Sarielle draws her face from her hands. "He picks his moments," she mutters under her breath, just loud enough for me to catch. Without another word, she reaches inside her cloak and tosses a small pouch his way.

He catches it against his chest. "Excellent." Eyes glimmering, he offers Cyneric another bow of his head. "Immense gratitude for allowing me to breathe the same air as you for a short while, O Majestic One. I'll be on my way now."

Before he can step back into the hall, the king grabs his wrist and drags him inside, shouldering the door closed. Fiesi yelps, sliding free too late.

"Am I some sort of joke to you?" The harshness returns to Cyneric's voice, laced with the scrape of talons. Any sense of laughter dries from my throat. A chill skitters up my spine.

Fiesi appears unfazed. "Of course not," he says. I silently beg him to shut up. As always, I'm unsuccessful. "I'm deadly serious, most incredible--"

"Quiet," Cyneric growls. His gaze sweeps to Dalton. "You're the captain, yes? Have you not taught your soldiers appropriate discipline?"

Dalton's ears have reddened again. He ducks his head apologetically, but not before he shoots a burning glare at Fiesi and his unshakable grin. "I'm afraid this one can't be taught, Your Majesty." He gestures half-heartedly. "May I introduce--"

"Finlay Hunter," Fiesi says, tongue sprinting over the name with haste before anyone can cut across it. He stretches a hand in the king's direction. "Known all across the land for my lack of respect for those of undeserved authority and for my unique ability to irritate, so no worries, it isn't personal. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Cyneric frowns at his outstretched hand in simmering silence. Jaw set, Sarielle marches forward. "Fiesi. His name is Fiesi."

"Is it?" What might pass for genuine confusion, did I not know the lie that forms it, flickers in his eyes. "I don't think so. I'm sure I'd know a thing like my own name."

"Fiesi Kynig," she adds, ignoring him. "He has a flame as well, although it's different to Nathan's. He's entirely harmless to us."

"Harmless," he echoes with a scoff, folding his arms. "Sarie, what exactly are you playing at?"

"The truth." She whirls on him, fixing him with a glare. For the first time since he appeared at the doorway, his smile falters. "Now please, just shut up and listen to what Dalton and I have to say." She turns back to the rest of the room, offering Cyneric an awkward bend of her head. "Apologies, but that goes for you both as well. An awful lot has happened. It's best if you don't ask questions until we've finished explaining."

There's no arguing with her. As she begins, stitching together the bare skeleton of the tale from the moment I stumbled into the regiment's midst to the rocky peace we all find ourselves in now, the room falls oddly silent. Dalton chips in with a few details, but for the most part, the story is hers to tell. She might be skilled with a sword, but this is where she truly excels: a room to command, the thrill of the words she has laid before her, twisting them together into something magical. I know it better than anyone. She never failed to capture my excitement no matter how many stories she told me.

This one hits differently, however. Something jarring skips through me every time she mentions my name. A familiarly hollow ache digs in as she passes over Harlow's involvement. She must notice, for she hastens, keeping it all brief.

Even as she finishes with last night's discovery, quiet sits in her voice's wake. Cyneric remains stunned beyond the function of words. Reuben's silence is more thoughtful, as if there's so much to say that he doesn't quite know where to begin. How to take this odd twist of events.

I have to pity them. When Fiesi first told me of the Enkavmé, it was like being thrust through an open door I'd studied a thousand times without a clue what lay behind. These people never even knew the opening was there.

When no-one asks anything immediately, Sarielle continues. "Fiesi comes from a place called Aorila. He says it's hidden from the outside world, a haven for those with magic to conceal their abilities." She pauses, glancing at Dalton. He moves to her side.

"We believe it would be the perfect place for us all to seek sanctuary while we plan our next move."

"What?" Fiesi's voice is almost a squeak. His former taunting confidence drains away in an instant, leaving him pinned against the doorframe, twitching like a cornered animal. His hands sneak behind his back, no doubt unknotting his turmoil in strings of hidden flame.

"We're going to Aorila." Sarielle's words line up to form a blade that she throws in his direction. He stiffens as if it impales him.

"Let me get this straight," Cyneric says slowly. "You want us to follow this man to a town full of supposed magical people."

"That would be the plan, yes." Her lips quirk. "Trust me, I know how outlandish it sounds, but you must know I'm telling the truth." Her gaze slides to her father, locking with his. The story isn't for the king, not truly.

Rubbing at his forehead, Cyneric crosses to the door again. "I'm going to see what Ela makes of all this. Magic..." She shakes his head with a bewildered laugh and tugs open the door. The hall is empty for him to disappear into this time.

Reuben's swift stride follows him. "I'd like to talk this through with our king as well before we commit to anything. Thank you for your honesty." His eyes linger a moment longer on Sarielle before he too steps out, the door thudding closed behind him.

Whatever force held me upright must be whisked away with him, for the air's heaviness suddenly crashes down on me. I sink unsteadily into the bed. My hands shake as they grip its wooden frame.

It's all too much to process. Part of me wants to simply lay back, curl up into a ball and deafen myself to the fresh rush of thought, but there's no hiding from it all any longer. They know who I am. My fate isn't merely in Sarielle's hands. And now she wants to take us all to the very place I burned down nine years ago.

My former home. My boots press into the bedframe.

The crackle of Fiesi's voice raises my head. "Did you not think to run this by me first?"

There's no need for him to conceal the flames any longer. They dance between his fingers, rise up his forearms in wild blue rings. He clenches his fists, but they don't diminish. "You are not taking them to Aorila. No. Not a chance."

Sarielle steps back, but her hand is already at her hilt. She isn't the one with reason to fear. "We have to. Akurin isn't safe anymore. It's the only sanctuary left."

Fiesi's glare is fiery. I flinch. I haven't seen him so angry since he held a knife to my throat. "You don't get it, do you?" he growls. "I couldn't care less about your stupid nobility and their stupid safety. The only reason I care particularly much about you is because you mean something to Nathan, for whatever reason that might be. Do you seriously think the rest of my people will give a rat's behind about keeping any of you safe?"

The top of Sarielle's blade reveals itself in a metallic flash of lamplight, protruding from her holster. Dalton leaps from the corner, holding out a placating hand in Fiesi's direction. "We do," he says, the calm in his tone clashing with the room's sparking heat. "We'll give them a reason to care."

His fire flares, a blaze licking over his sleeves. "And what would that be?"

"We keep their secret. No-one more has to find out about their existence."

"It's too late for that." His head drops, but the fight hasn't left his gaze. "I can't walk back into my home after two years with a bunch of Cormé in tow." He rakes a hand through his hair with enough force to yank out a few dirty brown strands. His flames slither down his arm. "I've already messed up enough."

He doesn't look at me, yet the remark feels pointed whether intentional or not. Arms wrapped around my middle, I huddle into myself, staring down at my toes. "Forget that. Your main problem is me."

Convincing Fiesi that I wasn't his monster was a challenge enough. All that saved me was his empathy. How can I expect the rest of the Enkavmé, the people I burned and ravaged and murdered as a child, to forgive me? They've every right to their hatred.

Fiesi lets out a strangled sort of laugh. "Yes. Stars, yes. You." He leans back into the wall, knocking his head against it as he drags his hands over his face. "If my father finds out that I went after you... and then that I let you live..."

"Wait." Sarielle severs his searing trickle of words before they can seep too deeply beneath my skin. "I thought your people were the ones who sent you after Nathan in the first place."

As did I, despite what little thought I've given it. A chill prickles the back of my neck. Yet he doesn't even seem startled at the accusation; all he releases is a long sigh, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. "Not exactly. Rigel and I... we made that choice ourselves." His fire shrinks, smouldering close to his skin as he slumps down against the wall. Fury doesn't swirl in his eyes now. If anything, they're dulled by exhaustion. He glances up at me, winces, and redirects his gaze to the floor. "I ran away. I could be dead for all they know." Pain flits across his expression. "For all they care."

My hands itch with the will to comfort him. If I were more confident that my limbs wouldn't give in during the few steps required to reach him, I would. Instead I bunch the cloak he lent me in my fingers. "I'm sorry." It sounds pathetic.

A faint sparkle does enter his eyes as he looks up. "Don't apologise. I'm done blaming you for my screw-ups."

Carefully, Dalton sits down beside him, laying his sword sheath out beside his legs. "Perhaps the sensible thing would be to go home."

"Oh, great." Fiesi buries another hand in his hair. "You're giving me advice. I must have sunk low."

If the comment irritates Dalton, he doesn't show it. "You have to do it someday, Fiesi. Why not now?"

"Because!" Flares leap over his arms as he spreads them in a wide gesture. "I can't, alright? What would they say? 'Hey, remember Fiesi Kynig? Turns out he isn't dead after all! He's miraculously alive enough to drag in another problem for us. What a thrill. If only he had died in some city's back alley.'" Bitterness coats his words, thick and dark. He pulls a leg to his chest.

Leaning against the wall, Sarielle folds her arms. "If they're really like that, maybe they deserve a problem."

He snorts a laugh. "Maybe."

"Here's how I see it. Whether you like it or not, you're going to take us to Aorila. I'd rather we did it amicably than with a sword to your throat again."

Nerves twitch his fingers. He touches a spot on his neck, flames dimming to almost nothing. He exhales, and they extinguish entirely. "I can't go home." I'm not sure I'd recognise his voice, broken as it sounds, if I heard it out of context. It's near a whimper.

She pulls her head aside. "You don't have a choice."

A shiver courses through me. Hugging the cloak tighter around myself, I sit up a little straighter. "She's right." It emerges too quiet, and so I press again, digging deeper for that old coil of yearning. That desperate wish to know. "They're right, Fiesi. I think... I think I need to go home too." The word balances oddly on my tongue, so wrongly shaped compared to the claws of meaning that scrape through Fiesi's version of it. "There's... answers I need to find."

His tongue runs over his lips in brief thought. A second leg joins the first. "Yeah." His head bows. "Yeah, you do. And they should know that you're not... you know. I just..." He presses his forehead into his knees. "I can't."

I stand without thinking this time, crossing to him, sinking down in the space Dalton shifts to make between them both. "You can." Despite the sting that darts under my gloves, the static effect of his lingering flame, I lay a hand on his arm. The fleeting lash of a thought strikes along with it. "You promised you'd help me remove my binds, right?"

He goes stiff beneath my touch. "Yes."

"If anyone knows how, they must be in Aorila." I cling to the hope woven into the notion, the faith that the ache in my chest isn't forever. There must be someone who can end it. "Right?"

It isn't all I need to find there. I need someone to unpick Harlow's lies, to disentangle his word and Ligari's into some straighter form of my past's truth.

Both Fiesi and I have that in common. We need to face our past, despite the way it cuts.

"Right." He wrenches his head back so that it thuds into the wall again. "I get it. You can all stop throwing logic at me now."

"So..." I realise I'm gripping him tighter and hurriedly retract. "You'll take us there?"

We meet eyes. Silently, I plead with him, hoping a mere look is enough to lend him the strength to face this challenge. He's not the only one afraid. The very concept of home sets in a fizzing anxiety, cascades with an uneasy cold, but I temper it with the memory of Ligari's quaint dwelling carved into the side of a mountain. Tainted as that day feels thanks to Fiesi's actions, it can't entirely chase away the gentle warmth I felt in her presence. A little fear is worth it if I can find comfort at its end.

Blowing out a breath, Fiesi tears from my gaze. "Fine. If only for you, Nathan."

"Great." Relief drags at Sarielle's exasperation. "I'm glad that's sorted."

"You better all be very grateful." He pulls himself rigid again, shifting as if wriggling back into a costume. As he jumps to his feet, a grin slides back into place like a mask. "How about you treat me to a decent hot meal as reward? There's no way I'm suffering my father's wrath on an empty stomach."

"You've already got my coin," she remarks. "I'm not sure I have a choice in the matter."

"You never do, Sarie."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Dalton climbs upright to join them. "We still have a king to convince."

Yes. A king. My chest constricts.

Sarielle shrugs. "He'll come round." She pauses as Fiesi twists the handle. "Coming, Nathan?"

"I don't think I will." With the thought of downstairs' bustle, the endless talking and sticky taste to the air, not to mention Reuben's itchingly familiar analysing stare, I've plenty to make me recoil. I'll have enough trouble sorting out the mess of my own mind.

Concern draws her brows in. "You sure?"

I muster a reassuring smile. "Yes. I just need a quiet moment."

It feels like an understatement. Even after her reluctant agreement, her soft goodbye as the three of them disappear into the hall, it isn't quiet enough. A buzz has awoken at the back of my skull, unceasing no matter how tight a ball I curl into against the doorframe.

The king. Aorila. Home. I close my eyes, failing to retreat into their darkness. Sometimes I long for the simplicity of my cell.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

I love that Fiesi agrees to go to Aorila literally because Nathan gave him puppy eyes. His bby powers are as strong as ever.

Yes, we're off to the magic town! Plenty of trauma and maybe a few answers to be found there. It's gonna be fun :D

- Pup