Dìl Dìon opened the door and threw the prince into the king's study. Hugging his throbbing arm to his chest Oslac stumbled to catch his balance. Not wanting to give the shadow possessed guard the satisfaction, he straightened up, stood as tall as he could and faced the king's desk where his father sat, writing.

"You wish to see me?" Oslac addressed the man through gritted teeth. It felt like he was speaking to a stranger, for everything he had witnessed from him within the last few days had been nothing like the man who raised him. The king looked up and stared deep into his soul. Swirling dark smoke filled his eyes. The sight squeezed at Oslac's heart and twisted at his stomach. He, of course, suspected that the darkness had reached him too, but part of him hoped that that wasn't the case. That part being his naive inner child, the part of him that still remembered the warm man that would chase Noir-Astra from under his bed at night.

"No!" He approached the desk, he couldn't give up on that memory, no matter how deep that darkness embedded itself in his father's gaze, he still had to be there. "Father! Please, look for the light, it's still there! You must fight! Fight against Noir-Astra! Fight against the darkness!"

The king got up from his seat, and with a cold smile creeping across his face, he squared up to his son.

"I am the darkness!" he said then let out a humourless laugh.

"No!" Oslac grabbed his father's shoulder with the hand he could still move, squeezing him as hard as he could manage. "You're stronger than this! Fight it! You can do this! You're my father! You're the king!"

"Don't touch me!" The king threw him off, making him fall onto the desk. He let out a guttural cry as he landed on his broken arm. A white light flashed as he made contact with the àrdurum wood. He looked for what could've made such a spark, and there sitting beside the king's maps and notes was a small shard of glass. In flustered movement, he fished out a similar sized shard that he forgot was still on his person until this moment. He lay it beside the piece on the desk, and they shone ever brighter once they were together again. He glanced up towards the king, a dangerous glower framing his fire filled stare.

"What have you done to him?" Oslac seethed.

The king let out a dark laugh, which only fuelled Oslac's anger.

"Where is my father? Tell me, Genelle!"

"Now you are a clever boy, aren't you?" Genelle Fiosolim's voice came out of the man's mouth. She then sent the shadows around her and the king shrank down and his strong facial features melted away and moulded into Genelle's mousey face. "He is gone."

She grabbed Oslac's broken wrist making him cry out in pain.

"I am the king now!" she hissed through a cruel smirk.

"H-how?"

"Your father is not as strong as you think, Prince, I managed to get to him as quick as that!" She let go of the prince and snapped her fingers to indicate a beat, then laughed at the fear that took over Oslac's face. "Your mother, though," Genelle said, whilst picking up a delicate tiara from a shelf. "Now she proved to be more of a fighter."

"Mother?" Oslac took in the sight of his mother's tiara and the outrage he felt from seeing it in her hands banished all fear. "If you've touched one hair on her head..."

His threat was interrupted by a wicked laugh as smoke began to fill the room. It crept into Oslac's throat making him cough and retch, then with a bang, a cupboard door flew open. Inside, Oslac saw a shadow of a face, a face he knew so well. He dared not take a closer look, every fibre of his being fought against him as he took a step forward, but he had to be sure.

He stood in front of the cupboard's open door and looked up. There hanging, with a rope around her neck, was his mother. Her long ashy-brown hair falling forward off her shoulders framing her greying face and faded, empty stare.

"M-mother..." he croaked as grief ripped at his throat. He fell to his knees and hid his face in her chiffon skirt, the place where he used to hide as a child, where he always felt safe and warm. Now that material was ice cold.

Sobs crushed out of him, his scalding tears of bitter grief soaked his mother's dress as if his sadness longed to thaw and wash dark reality away. As he sat frozen in his bereavement he felt the shadows in the room dissipate. The darkness and indeed its host had left the study, leaving the poor, teenage boy to grieve.

Meet me at the Western Forest. You must go now!

Those words played over and over in Beanni's mind as she sat in front of her mirror. The violet light had exited its glass surface and settled back inside Beanni's irises. The mirror reflected only her face and her bedroom behind her, as it usually did. As she sat there, trying her hardest to ignore her fresh wounds, she racked her brain for how she could possibly get to Night Forest. There was no way she would manage to travel there by foot, not in her condition. Just breathing caused her excruciating pain.

She looked down at her shaking hands, and a sudden thought came to her. She managed to transport herself home when Ethan was arrested using her violet light. That light covered her hands. She lifted them up before her, wincing as the gash on her chest objected to the exertion. Focusing on each line in her palms and on her shaking fingers, she willed the magic to come and dress them. However, nothing happened. She let another minute tick by before she gave up and allowed her hands to fall back to her lap.

"What now?" she sighed. Then, at the corner of her eye, she noticed her light orb pouch hanging on a hook beside her mirror. There was something else she could try! She reached for the pouch and fished out her light orb, made it grow in her left palm, then looked into the mirror. She concentrated on her irises, bringing out the violet glow, then pinched the side of her temple with the index finger and thumb of her right hand - copying, to the best of her knowledge, what she witnessed Oslac do when he needed to borrow her violet magic. She managed to pull out a ribbon of violet light from her mind.

Relieved that it worked, a smile decorated her mouth as she placed the ribbon onto her light orb. She watched it absorb through its hard, clear surface and dance in the glittering, white pollen cloud inside.

Beanni focused hard on her orb and pictured Night Forest in her mind, specifically the shores of Luna Lake. The violet ribbon inside her orb then multiplied around her.

"Beanni? What's happening?" Her father's voice made her turn away from the orb. The scared look in his eyes touched her heart.

"Everything will be okay, Dad, don't worry."

Her surroundings began to fade.

"No!" her father cried out, reached out to her, and managed to grab her arm before Beanni's room disappeared completely. In a blink they both were in Night Forest, on the shore of Luna Lake.

Beanni slipped from Lorrus' loosened grip and collapsed onto the pebbly shore. The pain she felt took her breath away.

"Beanni! Are you okay?" Lorrus knelt down beside her. His eyes were filled with fear as he took in her wounds and the obvious pain that she was in. "Oh Bay, I'm so sorry."

The lake then began to glow, drawing Beanni's focus away from her father's anxious face. A melodious voice filled the air. "Leigat urra beannai ursad."

"What was that?" Questioned Lorrus.

Beanni, although her mind couldn't fathom the ancient words the voice said, felt in her heart what she was asked to do. Ignoring her father's calls, she crawled towards the lapping, glowing water, and dipped her hands in.

Silver light began to slither up her arms in the same pattern as it did before - when she was kneeling in the same place weeks ago during Strellemarè. It made its way up her body, healing all the wounds in its path. It soothed her chafed wrists and closed the wound on her chest. It then slithered its way up her neck towards her face where it healed the deep cut on her cheek.

Not only did the magic heal her wounds, but it filled her with a warmth that brought her a strength she had never felt before.

"Tha noinm ain ursad Beanni. Tha ursad an aonus beannai," the angelic voice rang throughout the entire western forest. The silvery light that entered Beanni's mind entwined with the violet magic already there, and it translated every word that the voice said.

Before letting a deep void overcome him, Oslac forced himself to his feet. With a fumbling hand he tugged helplessly at the knot that kept the Queen suspended in the cupboard. But, no matter how hard he pulled at the rope it would not budge. A frustrated groan ripped from Oslac's tightening throat as he buried his face into the soft folds of the delicate material that covered his mother's chest.

"What can I do?" he said through trembling lips. "M-mother, I'm sorry, I'm..."

It was then that he felt something hanging amongst her robes. He took a closer look and there, tied at her neck, was his light orb pouch. He rushed to pull the pouch open and took out his orb. He placed it inside his cramped left hand, focused on the marble of light to make it grow and fit his palm. Once it had grown, a pain shot along his left forearm.

Choosing to ignore his discomfort, he used light magic to untie the rope and remove his mother from the cupboard. Her body floated slowly through the air, as the light magic cleared a space on the desk and carefully lay her on top.

The light magic then untied his pouch from her cloak and sent it slowly through the air into his right hand. He attached it back onto his belt, approached his mother and gently closed her frozen eyelids so that it looked as though she was only sleeping.

"I promise, Mother," he said with trembling lips. "I will make that gazer wench pay!"

He placed his mother's hands upon her chest and gave her a tender kiss on her still cheek. Turning away, he looked down towards his orb that he hugged into his abdomen, his weak left hand trembling under its weight. With a sigh he took the orb into his right hand and drew the royals' Samhun Tealia on his chest. Once the orange glow sank into the fibres of his shirt and the warmth penetrated his skin he ran out of the study, and made his way to the dungeon to finally free Ethan from his bondage and torture. No matter who or what he faced, nothing was going to stop him from getting the ancient magic out of there!

He ran down the corridor and stairs, focusing on only reaching the dungeon. He did not worry about anything standing at his left or right. It was only when he noticed the subtle violet glow when he neared the entrance that he stopped. Two guards stood frozen in place. He looked past them, peering down the staircase, where the source of the violet light began to ascend.

"E-Ethan, is that you?" he asked the strange, glowing being.

"Yes, Oslac it is me." The violet light clearly over-powered the Samhun Tealia spell that sat dormant under Oslac's skin.

"W-What's going on? What's this?" Oslac asked, gesturing towards the violet glow.

"The Blessed One has woken the deep power," Ethan answered with a wide smile.

"Deep power?"

"Yes, a power even the first tribes had not witnessed." Ethan's all-knowing voice echoed through the still corridors. "It is what's giving me the ability to freeze the darkness. But they are only frozen, not defeated we must move, there is much yet to do."

"What must I do?" Oslac puffed out his chest ready to take any orders that the ancient magic was wanting to impart. He was willing to do anything to help save Beanni, his father and to avenge his poor mother.

"We must all go to Night Forest. All who have not already fallen victim of Noir-Astra." Ethan held out his right hand towards the determined prince. "Come, you must help me gather your people."

Oslac nodded with purpose, using all he had to suppress the confusion that began to tickle his thoughts. There was no time to lose, and asking questions now would only hinder them both. He took Ethan's hand, and in a blink, Astrid palace disappeared in a cloud of chaotic violet ribbons.