The tiny moth balances on the end of my finger as I offer it to Sulema. 

"There. I think that's the correct spell..." However, not a single one has come back. 

The slender elf lets the creature walk onto her hands with a curious expression. It warms me to share this knowledge with her, thinking of my time in Hungary was bittersweet. While I had racked my brain for the spells that Zsophia had given me, remembering them in their exact Hungarian terms had proved to be quite difficult if not mainly for the trauma we endured there. 

As often as we sent the little creatures out, it seemed none of them had been able to find their way back. The older woman had warned me that moths were fickle creatures, and it was challenging to convince them to do their jobs. Unfortunately, I was at a distinct lack of the necessary butterflies for more accurate tracking. 

"So... this little moth will find Lux?" Her tiny voice brings me out of my musings as I retrieve the creature onto my finger. 

"One can hope." Stepping to the window, I allow it to flutter off into the oncoming rainstorm. "Normally, they require a sample, but I'm infusing them with the memory that Whitewind gave me, so I imagine that is quite a bit more difficult for them to manage." 

While the thought of this poor man surrounded by tracking moths was quite amusing, at this point, we were getting quite desperate.

Being that Sulema was in tune with nature as I was, she was picking up the methods of controlling the tiny creatures quite quickly. The practice could only do so much with no results to prove the material, I was beginning to fear this 'Lux' didn't even exist.

How was I so disappointingly bad when it came to the art of guiding animals? 

Days had passed since we had accepted the help of Fadri and Avril; our group had been thrust into the complex task of building a small army. A foreign concept to me when it came to recruiting civilians, I had a whole new appreciation for the ability to conjure mass numbers when we needed them, as the building process had been slow. 

People were not only frightened and upset; their strange lifestyles continued to pose a problem when it came to forming a useable force.

Not everyone could be a soldier. But, the steady trickle of willing bodies was providing much-needed hope. What people couldn't offer in the means of protection or military background, they could fill in with the same skills that employed the 'nonmagical' users in the dead city. 

We slowly began the reunification of tiny stores, swallowed by the lumbering buildings, boarded up or overrun with mechanical merchandise. 

With the help of our melting friend, we were able to effectively dismantle the robotic task force and replace it with a human staff. We could begin to reopen shops that had been closed for decades or at least start the process of returning the confiscated land back to their families. 

Supported by the local police, we developed a barrier on the outskirts of city limits utilizing a constant patrol. Without restricting access, we could get a visual on Caspian's people and keep tabs on the stores they frequented for their various activities. Predictability was a  beautiful thing. Caspian had grown up in the same environment as Verando, so it came as no surprise that he was following a 'mafia' style path with his business ventures. 

Civilians and magic users seemed willing to offer up their support for the Good King, coupled with the knowledge that the end of days was upon us. The more truth we spoke, the more people because to listen. 

Our government officials did a sickeningly good job of keeping that bit of knowledge as a rumor rather than a fact, much to our surprise, the television spoke little of our uprising save for the curious way the train had stopped running in our town. 

While we had the full support of the government, in public it would seem they were much less willing to be associated with us. I can only imagine it would be an attempt to save face if we were to become unsuccessful in our tour for freedom. 

As the rain spatters, I feel Tiberius slink his arm around mine with a sly grin. "You feel warmer." He notes happily. 

I was quick to slip out of his grasp, I'm not much of a cat person. Excusing myself from Sulema, I step away from the elf to speak to our resident Siren in private.

"I'm using constantly, trying to build up. Which reminds me, do you have time to practice? My skills in general use are quite rusty." 

He bows sarcastically, and I roll my eyes at the theatrics. 

We exit into the rain, slipping past the multitude of people now crowding around the pub we'd taken as our home base. Harrison seemed happy enough for the company; it only seemed like a logical location. 

"What happens after all of this, Tiberius? Do you go home?"

He smirks, sauntering beside me, the rain billows off an invisible umbrella that covers our heads. "Remember our deal, Your Majesty. I get a soul per concert, I intend to be very well fed." 

Running a hand through my hair, I sigh, "Right. I forget you're evil."

This seemed to wound him, so he retracted the shield and allowed the rain to wet us both. "I'm not evil, Nicolas. I must eat to survive. Have you considered what the cost will be with vampires joined alongside humans? Surely you don't believe a blood substitute will be enough."

I have considered this; it seems like we have much to figure out as far as the dietary concerns of many magical users as well as the land necessary for the proper practice of the arts. With the expansive badlands, that could very well be an option, though it seemed like an unfair trade, at least until the world was righted. 

Stepping away, I ground myself, trying to ward off the shiver as the rain soaks my hair and shoulders. "I do. There will be punishments for crimes committed against humans just as for humans against us. We must co-exist. We can't keep killing each other."

The Siren's expression softens, "There are gods of war, Your Majesty. To be a god of a single act, war is written into our very being." 

My lips pull down into a frown as I spread my fingers out in an attempt to concentrate. 

"But. I think this is what you're supposed to do. Chase the chariot of peace, or what have you. Balance, there are gods of harmony are well. Goddess's I should say." He winks, and I grimace. "I'm not flirting with you."

The words catch me off guard, and I lose focus, freezing the ground beneath our feet. It makes me curse, a rookie mistake. I retract the ice and roll my eyes once more at his snickering. "Why would you think I thought that?" I snap in frustration.

With a casual shrug, he steps behind me to help me position my hands, outstretched at my sides. "Magic flows like water, allow yourself to become the element. I'm sick of being rained on...." His voice is smooth and silky. "And because you look at me as if I'm about to jump your bones." 

My jaw tightens. 

"Why would I think that? You only sing songs that make everyone want to fornicate like vermin." My words prompt a thunderous laugh, and I step out of his space to pull water out of my clothes and toss it to the ground. I, too, am getting fed up with the rain. 

Finally, as he calms, he repeats the stance for me to follow. I did appreciate learning from Tiberius; much as I didn't care for him as a person, Penelope had turned me into a creature of tension, whereas Tiberius used relaxation to craft out of thought instead of raw emotion.

 A Solomonari brought up in the school possessed few actual weaknesses in our craft; stepping away from our trigger and into a state of complete control was one of mine. The anguish caused our magic to awaken, but the true masters were birthed from meditation and poise.

 "My songs make people act on their deepest impulses. If you screwed someone while listening to my song, well, you probably wanted to screw them in the first place." 

Disgusted, I send a burst of energy to my fingers. The rain pauses in the air, we're surrounded by silence. "Well, that makes sense why I was able to reject Tonic. That's foul magic, Tiberius."

 Shutting my eyes, I seeth at my own idiocy for allowing him to ruffle me, I swipe my hand through the air and project my own forcefield. The rain began to pour once more, and he trotted up to walk beside me. 

"I didn't mean to upset you. You're not quite yourself today."

The faster I walk, the more I begin to cool down until finally, I force myself to take a breath. No, the true problem was that I was being myself. 

Thinking back to my rule, I couldn't help but focus on my mistreatment of Helen as my largest offense. 

The thought prompts me to return to the habit that I found most comforting in times like this; I tug a flask out of my jacket pocket and take a swig before offering it to my siren friend. "I just want to find Lux; that's all I want to focus on."

It's not an apology, but hopefully, it will excuse my lackluster behavior. 

Snagging the flask, he takes a whiff and cocks a brow at the contents. My tastes had developed into a potent concoction after my break up with my now-husband; it was difficult to distance myself from my coping mechanism with his absence weighing on my anxious heart. 

"Don't judge me," I mutter, "You literally steal souls. I can have a drink."

Accepting this, he takes a swig and hands it back. I down another mouthful and wrinkle my nose at the burn as I slip it back into my coat. "You're doing a good job projecting this shield. There's a coffee shop down the street; let's work on your doorways. Do you remember that from school?" 

I had only used them when being chased by dragons through a maze. My expression is telling, and he hooks his arm happily in mine once more; I feel the man would skip if his height allowed it to happen gracefully. 

"Well, it's a great time for a refresher. We'll make a door then you can work on straight phasing for a more tactful retreat. "

The smiles of civilians are not lost on me; I can see why Verando preferred to be in town rather than court. I often don't feel the pang of loneliness until I'm amongst the crowds, though I could do without the anxiety. The bustling lives of busy folks walking in hurried paces was comforting, I wasn't the only one with a mission, even if our destinations were very different. 

It was fun to distract myself and pretend; I gave them backstories in my mind and missed my old friends as we walked. 

As a boy, living in a castle, I loved to people-watch with my mother. When we were allowed to leave the castle for nonpolitical events, it was for the occasional festival or quick trip to the market. I realize now that the 'backstories' she gave them to entertain us could have possibly been quite real, much as they seemed ridiculous to me back then as a sheltered child. 

Yet, I loved the quirky city with the silly patrons who did such odd things as cooking bread for themselves, making knives, or studying the vast books in our overstocked libraries. 

My shield must give us away; besides Tiberius's obvious fame, we're greeted by most who pass us. A constraint string of 'bonjour' and quick, polite compliments, so easily they had accepted us as their savior if it meant their survival. 

"You're calm about ruling the world. I can't decide if you're just an outstanding actor or if you've got your shit together." 

I notice he's watching me; his words catch me off guard. 

 I shrug one shoulder, offering a polite wave to a passing officer. "I'm glad it looks that way. I was thinking about my mother, which could explain the lack of panic. She was so graceful, I had a good example."

"I think you're a lot stronger than you let on."

I couldn't tell him he wasn't accurate, my ability had almost felt stunted since our fight with Corina. I had gained so much strength, but now I felt winded from the slightest surge. "Shit happens." 

 I feel for my flask, and to my surprise, Tiberius shoves me with all of his might. 

Letting my palms slide behind my body, I allow the air to swing through my fingertips and blow through the wall as I melt a sizeable indent on the aged brick. I cough and sputter as the dust clears, climbing out of the rubble. My body ached, but I was intact. "What the hell?!"

"Shit happens." He teases with a grin. Jumping through the hole, he lines up to land on me, and I make a brick barrier, cringing at the impact before kicking it away to seal up the hole and put him outside. 

Standing up quickly, I run for the wall and mutter a quick spell to step through another abandoned room; coughing at the dust, I swipe away cobwebs and grit. Soundlessly, he phases through the wall, and I call any object to my hand, sighing that it's a broom I pull water from a nearby faucet and form a spearhead on the end. 

"I didn't ask for a sparring partner." I snap at him in frustration as he eyes my weapon. 

"You didn't ask me to not spar with you?" Tiberius shrugs, calling a broom to his hand, and with a quick motion, he raps my knuckles with the end. I flinch and quickly move to block him, scowling at the forced hand-to-hand. 

The siren is agile, an experienced swords me; fending him off with a broom was not quite my style. Tonic and I had sparred when we first built our army, which seemed like a lifetime ago. "A king must be versatile. Your magic isn't what it once was, remember? You'll have to defend yourself in the old-fashioned way ."

It's all I can do to defend myself. I open up a barrier through the floor as I sense a pipe beneath us and run through it to climb back onto the street through a second hole. The civilians gasped in surprise, and I apologized to them as I started to run again.

 Tiberius appears before me; as he lands, I freeze his feet to the ground and catch him in the side with the broom handle. He hooks my feet, throwing me onto my back. 

I use the wind to catch myself, placing me back to my feet as if I'd bounced off of a springboard. I drive the end of the spear into his broom handle to snap it in half. This, unfortunately, gave him two weapons as he stepped his way out of my restraint and went back on the assault. 

With a firm command, I turn the broom into an ice shield and throw it down; stepping onto it, I use it as a surfboard to travel quickly down the slick, wet asphalt.

Tiberius laughs, grinning ear to ear. "Now that's clever!"

"Saw it on a television show," I tell him as I round a lamp post and use force to line myself up with the tall man. As I face him, the impact of a ball of ice catches me entirely off guard; I fly backward and phase myself through a wall and into a coffee shop.  My body barely manages to skitter to a halt as I clutch the ball of snow, my back barely bumping one of the tables occupied by a young couple. 

The shop goes quiet, and I clear my throat as I disassemble the ball and straighten my coat. At least I didn't destroy everything; I was getting better about receiving attacks and remaining on my feet. 

As Tiberius appears, I pick up a knife and throw it, only to halt it at his throat. His hands quickly lift in defeat, and the knife clatters to the ground. "Lucky break." He sneers. 

"Shut up and buy me a coffee." I apologize to the couple as we approach a booth, clutching my coat tightly around my body as I sit down and relish in the warmth of the overhead vent.

 Ignoring the murmurs and glances, I brush some of the remaining snow out of my hair. 

"I don't think you're at any shortage of magic, by the way. I wanted to make you angry." He comments as I ring out my scarf, sitting across from me with a thump as his lumbering form collapses against the plush seat. "That was fun; we need to do that more often; not bad for a first-time sparring."

Unwilling to entertain him, I pull out my flask and take a swallow to cool my nerves. The barista seems to be trying to decide if he wants to wait on us. His dark skin standing out against his pale outfit, close-cut hair neatly styled and combed, I wonder how the man could possibly take more than a moment to acknowledge our presence considering our entrance.

Screwing the cap back on, I shrug off the cold and wish my fire mage was here. The approaching feet bring relief that we weren't about to be kicked out, "When people refrain from blowing apart your coffee shop, I'd expect better service." I suggest with an annoyed glance.

 I'm met with large green eyes and a bright smile. 

"My apologies, Your Majesty. I wanted to give you a moment to get settled." 

My lips part as I inhale sharply. Dark skin, green eyes. He swats a small moth fluttering near his shoulder. "Please excuse that; these darn things are out in droves lately. How can I help you?"