The story so far:

---- Aija and the others are on the South-Land. They are waiting for the Leadership to attack. Goldstar is alive. They lost the Premiere, Leigh, Tailyn, Arah Lin. Ze is getting better in his training. The war comes to an end when Iernei spaceships arrive. Aija finds her brother Rei and Vincent alive. Aija and Thieron tell Goldstar all that has happened with them. Aija and Thieorn want to go to Ierne to give Aa'di Irih'va the Avo. Luka didn't expect to survive this long. He now feels at home with Thieron and Nala. Zuri goes home. She asks her parents to go to the South-land with her. They refuse. Xan accepts Var-Inu's offer to get an Iernei body. Xan is now Iernei. Thieron talks to Aija; she says she's confused and needs time. They all go to Ierne. Zuri roams the Palace. She meets Ze, who tells her he doesn't like Nala and makes Zuri doubt her relationship with Nala. Aija asks Irih'va to remove her bond with Thieron. He agrees and accomplishes it. Goldstar gives Premier Zhaleh a plan to use against the Leadership. Thieron wakes after the bond is removed. He misses Aija. Aa'di Irih'va asks him to go home and then to join the Ithi'hra to work with him.

----Thieron convinces Nala to go home. Xan learns from Aija what really happened to him; he feels hurt. He wants to warn his family about the experiments to save his siblings. Goldstar finds out Vincent is Ytean-human. And that he was responsible for his reputation. He is upset. He chooses to leave behind 'Goldstar' and be Rei. It is Ze's wedding day. He's happy. Diya and Nova are present. Ruyanir's and Ze's wedding takes place. Ze challenges Na'thwir for the position of Zayr chief. Thieron goes to Zya'ara with everyone. Meets his family after years. The Company is on their way to attack again. Aija and Thieron fight with the Zya'araeans against the Wy'sith. Aija gets dragged away from Thieron. Nala and Luka struggle to shield Eiva and Afe. Nala is losing control over her shield. Zuri arrives to help. Thieron panics when he loses Aija. The ji'var attack him, but AIja finds him. Together they manage to kill the metal-controller, but when the Utzrn withdraw, Thieron realises it's to drown them. Aija calls Tai'un for help, and tells him she'll do anything in return for help. Tai'un uses the Avo to help them.

----Xan meets Vaughn, they spend time in Sier Ghat.

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****23.2 IRIH'VA****

A glutinous tenor of loneliness oppressed him.

He didn't know if his heart imbibed it from the heaviness in the air or if his heart overflowed with abandonment that it percolated into everything around him.

Irih'va knelt in front of the Ro'ein statue, hands clasped on his thighs, a prayer on his lips, a curse in his heart for himself. No matter how many times he apologised, it wouldn't change. No matter how many times he saw people's futures, it would alter nothing. His father had still died, as had his brother and mother. And yet, it felt like the universe wasn't done taking from him.

It had been years since Irih'va had cried on the death-anniversaries of his family. First, his father's, followed by his mother's and brother's. But as he sat there now, on the snow-kissed ground, Irih'va's throat grew scratchy with the hint of a lump. He pushed it down, but it only fattened with a vengeance. A tear sneaked out of his restraint, slithering down his cheek. Ru'n Lwr'vyn glanced at him sideways but didn't dare say a word, not even for comfort.

Ru'n Lwr'vyn stood beside him, hands tied at the back. The man had been devastated by the deaths of the Royal family. Irih'va hadn't been crowned yet, and the man had taken the liberty to scold Irih'va for his actions. Irih'va still couldn't believe he'd run from home. He'd come back to Ierne to the deaths of his family. He'd cursed himself for years. But regret changed nothing. His family was still gone, now shiny xau'ryn adorning three pillars in the Hi'er Shrine. On the saddest of his days, Irih'va wished to become a xau'ryn embellished on a pillar. But then he'd think of Ierne and the fact that he didn't have an heir to leave behind to keep Ierne safe. His first loyalty was forever to Ierne.

After Ru'n Lwr'vyn had given him an earful before the funerals, he'd whispered, 'I'm glad you weren't there. I'm glad you survived,' and left a sobbing Irih'va alone in the Throne Room. On his saddest of days, Irih'va thought of it too.

Back within the Mux'xra Ust, the black-gold banners were replaced by metallic-grey, the colour of death. Dark-grey: a washed-out version of the holy black. The colour had overtaken the Palace for years after his family's passing until they were obligated to affix black and gold for Irih'va's coronation.

Ru'n Lwr'vyn and Ru'n Ve'dir escorted him into his suite. They helped him out of the heavy dark-grey gw'xun, and he wore a simpler one of the same colour. He prepared to spend the day in the training room like he'd done for years. The constant motion of practice helped keep his mind off his family, prevented a breakdown. Over the years, it had become a habit; visit the Shrine, pay his respect to family, spend the rest of the day training with Ru'n Lwr'vyn and sometimes Thr'vir if he were at the Palace for the winter, or simply making the walk all the way to the Riu-nu-Aresean and back to the Palace several times until the cold got unbearable. A routine Thieron had inculcated into him.

It also didn't help that nearly no one resided in the Palace because of winter break. The year of his family's passing was the first-ever Irih'va had seen the Palace teeming with people in the midst of deep-winter. Little did he know then, years later, the Palace would see such a crowd thanks to a half-human boy getting married.

A knock resounded through the suite. The Royal Guards shared a glance before the older man went to check. Ru'n Ve'dir stuck closer to Irih'va, a hand on his sword, eyes on the door, making Irih'va's mood lighten marginally.

Thr'vir accompanied Ru'n Lwr'vyn. He wore dark-grey too. His expression solemn, he said, "I don't know why he sent me," and handed Irih'va a white envelope with both hands.

A request. Irih'va took out the card to find Hwa'adi Krior'va's writing, requesting to join Irih'va for lunch. Irih'va clutched the paper rigidly, an almost-fury brewing in him. It'd been two-hundred-and-ten years since the deaths of his parents and brother. It was the first time Hwa'adi Krior'va had called to meet him on an anniversary. Hwa'adi avoided Irih'va as if he were the cause of his daughter's death. While Irih'va had foreseen his father's demise, he hadn't seen his mother's and brother's. It wasn't like Irih'va had pierced them with his sword. The Utzrn were responsible. Even though the Utzrn government didn't take accountability, they were behind the 'individual perpetrators.' They'd done it to fuel war. Ru'n On'jir and Ru'n Lwr'vyn had forbidden Irih'va from starting one as if he'd had a choice. He hadn't been Crowned yet; Hwa'adi had taken control, and Irih'va wasn't privy to the discussions that had taken place between the Hi'er's, the Utzrn government, and the Ithi'hra. But years later, when the Crown finally weighed him down, he understood why the men hadn't wanted war. By then, the Utzrn who'd murdered his family had long been found and sentenced to death. And with it, war pushed off. For now.

"Aa'di," Thr'vir chose to address him as Emperor, gauging the displeasure emanating off him.

Irih'va lifted his gaze.

"Hear him out; see why he wants to talk."

Irih'va resisted the urge to crumple the paper. He cleared his throat, nodding an approval.

As one, the other three men released loud breaths, shoulders slumping in relief. Ru'n Lwr'vyn brought Irih'va a simple gold-circlet and placed it across his forehead. Irih'va tied his hair up in a messy top-knot. Ru'n Ve'dir went to get Hwa'adi. Thr'vir left, knowing this meeting was only between Irih'va and their grandfather. Thr'vir wasn't close to Hwa'adi either. Thr'vir's siblings were and spent a great deal of time with the man. Thr'vir had always been closer to Dei'va and later Irih'va than his own brother and sister. If their grandfather disapproved, Irih'va never found out. Irih'va was grateful for Thr'vir. After Thieron and Nala had left, it was Thr'vir who'd stayed by him and helped him stay sane. If anyone had managed to make Irih'va laugh, it was Thr'vir.

"I will be right outside," Ru'n Lwr'vyn assured.

"Nih'ite,"

Minutes later, Irih'va and Hwa'adi Krior'va sat facing the other on opposite sides of the table. A large spread explicitly made with the day in mind bedecked the table.

"Thank you for accepting,"

Irih'va only dipped his chin once in acknowledgement. His grandfather surveyed him; Irih'va shifted in his chair, fidgety. The man wore dark-grey too, and a sudden ludicrous thought of relief passed through Irih'va – Aija's eyes were light-grey; not Ierne's colour of death.

"After you, Aa'di,"

Irih'va served himself, starting with the bitter erb'a as per funeral tradition. Bitter erb'a for one wouldn't consume anything tasty to show they were displeased by the death. Sour lim'h and spicy dyr followed erb'a. No sweets. The first time Irih'va had eaten erb'a was at his family's funerals. Throat sore from crying, Irih'va had nearly spit it out. He'd received a glare from Ru'n Lwr'vyn, and so he'd drowned it down his sore throat with water. It had brought fresh tears, and Ah'n had whispered that the first bite was the hardest; it would get better. Irih'va had flinched, remembering Ah'n had had to eat it at a terribly young age.

Hwa'adi served himself after Irih'va. They ate in silence, making Irih'va question the purpose of the lunch. Why, after over two hundred years, did his grandfather make an effort?

Irih'va stole a glance at the man. He appeared older and weaker than Irih'va remembered. While Iernei lived long and mostly strong, they weren't without old-age issues. To Irih'va, it always seemed like Iernei reached their peak slowly and declined faster, a reason he'd assumed why he saw fewer older Iernei.

Irih'va never understood if Hwa'adi's hate stemmed from Xr'ourin's death or just because Irih'va was born with the purpose his brother, Dei'va, hadn't fulfilled. Dei'va was much older than him: three-hundred-and-fifty years older. Iernei powers manifested the latest by fifty years. Dei'va's hadn't. It meant that they'd spent an additional three-hundred years to see if Dei'va's powers would grow beyond his shielding. It hadn't. And Iernei Ruler was determined by their strength, link to Ierne's magic, and control over all known Iernei powers. His parents had, literally, had Irih'va to make up for Dei'va's lack of powers to ensure the Empire had its Ruler. Irih'va didn't know if Dei'va ever resented him, his purpose. But had never felt unloved, t least by anyone other than Krior'va.

"You were out longer today," Hwa'adi broke the quiet. "You're often back in an hour or two and head to the practice rooms. I waited to call you for breakfast."

Irih'va stared at his grandfather, trying to keep his surprise off his face. The man knew his routine?

"It's good that your friends are here. They are returning from Ytèan?"

Irih'va nodded, food forgotten. Krior'va washed his hands; Irih'va followed.

"I wish there was a better way. I wish Xr'ourin were here or Jei'ri."

Irih'va hadn't met Jei'ri, his grandmother. Nut he'd seen enough photos to know his mother had been a near-copy of his grandmother.

"There is talk, Irih'va," Krior'va finally used his name. Irih'va balled his fists. "Of you and Aija; some say they saw her with a gold-avru instead of black on Ze's wedding day."

Irih'va frowned. He clearly remembered the band across Aija's face being black.

"She's returned. May I anticipate a wedding?"

Irih'va felt like he'd been punched in his chest. Was this why Hwa'adi wanted to talk about his wedding on the death-anniversary of his mother and brother?

"If I say no?"

Hwa'adi sighed. "At your age, I already had your mother. You're an Emperor of Ierne. It entails ensuring the Empire always has an heir."

"Like I was made for the Crown?"

Krior'va clenched his jaw. "Xr'ourin and E'mnor loved you the same as Dei'va."

"Unlike you,"

"I don't hate you, boy."

The lump in Irih'va's throat remerged, stronger than before. He swallowed, pushing it down.

"I...I see Xr'ourin in you," Krior'va confessed. "You're not responsible for their deaths, Irih'va. I only wish you hadn't run just because E'mnor didn't listen to you regarding his death. They, all of them, spent their last days worried sick over you. The moment I heard of Xr'ourin and Dei'va's murders, I feared for you. I wished you were home so I could keep you safe. We didn't know where you were; didn't know if they got you too.

"When I saw you, I could breathe again, not just because Ierne had its Ruler because you were home. But my anger won; you made your parents worry, for making your brother scramble about searching for you, him crying over your safety for days. I owe you an apology for slapping you the moment you returned. I am sorry. For all these years, too. I want to make this better. Tell me how."

Irih'va bit down on his tongue, struggling to keep the lump from growing.

"I'm willing to try, Irih'va."

"Why now?"

"It's been long enough."

Irih'va didn't know what to say.

"You're doing a good job with the Empire. I know I haven't acknowledged it, ever. You were so young when you took the Throne," he reminisced. "I'm grateful for Lwr'vyn, On'jir, even Thr'vir. He hates me because he thinks I hate you. Silly boy," he half-smiled.

"Is this because you want to convince me into a marriage?"

"What?" Krior'va was taken aback. "No. That's a separate matter."

Irih'va still couldn't trust the man.

"When is Ze's fight?" he changed the subject.

"Yet to set the date,"

"Wish the boy luck from me,"

"Okay,"

"Irih'va?"

"Yes?"

Hwa'adi Krior'va hesitated. he shifted his gaze out at the setting suns that filled the leisure room with their dying golden lights. "You know your father was a Royal Guard before he became consort?"

"I do,"

"I knew E'mnor loved Xr'ourin long before she fell for him. It was Lwr'vyn who convinced her to accept her feelings for E'mnor; she'd hesitated thinking I'd refuse, for he came from far across the Empire, from an unheard village: a no one from nowhere. She thought I'd make his life hard for the small crime of loving her. At first, I didn't approve. Royal heirs don't marry nobodies. Since it looked like Xr'ourin didn't pay him heed, I decided not to bring it up."

"How did she persuade you?"

Krior'va smiled. He turned to Irih'va. "She didn't,"

Irih'va frowned.

"I knew E'mnor loved her for who she was. It was in the way he gazed at her when she wasn't looking at him. It was all I needed: to know he'd love her as Xr'ourin, not as Aa'sye. Not because she'd be Empress after me."

Hwa'adi Krior'va stood, preparing to leave. "You do the same, Irih'va. You gaze at Aija as E'mnor did Xr'ourin until the last time they saw each other. I want you to have what your parents did. I want you to be happy."

Irih'va's lips parted, breathing quickening.

"Isn't it also the way your dear friend, Ah'n, looks at her?" Hwa'adi started to walk away. He bowed at Irih'va. "May the Spirits keep an eye on you," he left.

Irih'va stared at the empty chair in front of him.

And the tears he'd carefully barred came rushing forth, spilling over his cheeks.

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