[Zez]

Zez hurried from the chamber with many of her writings under her arm, leaving Sil'es to his anger and frustration behind her. She had seen many of his swings—one moment he would be fine, the next moment not. Yet, she trusted his word. The Almighty entrusted the ability to "tell the future" only to a select few, others would be marked as heretics and imprisoned. Sil'es was never wrong.

Amaram's keep was cold and barren and made up of twisting and turning stone hallways lit only by small sphere goblets every so often. Much of the halls would be pitched in darkness, not that there would be much to see even if one could. The Highprince spent most of his time, if not all of it, in his war-camps on the Plains—he had no reason to decorate these paths.

Zez walked quickly, determined to show her trust in him by bringing the spanreed back quickly. With it, a written message could be sent over long distances to someone with the other linked reed. Brightness Navani, Highprince Kholin's wife, had done an amazing job designing the small, light-weight fabrials.

She nodded to a maid pushing a tea-cart along the halls, smiling as she passed. Highprince Amaram must have recently had them do that, Sil'es could rightly use a nice cup of tea in his state.

Rushing down the next hall and making her way to the communications room, she ordered the spanreed and began making her way back to the Stormwarden's chambers.

-

-

There was a group of soldiers waiting outside Sil'es' room when she returned with the spanreed, which was tucked safely in her safepouch while she ran. The guards, each wearing Highprince Amaram's dark green coats and uniforms, snapped their heads towards her as she approached. Her heart stopped. If the spanreed had been in her hand, it easily would have slipped from her quivering hands.

"Miss Zezilia?" The front-most guard asked with his spear held tightly in his grip.

"Y-yes? What is this about? Stormwarden Sil'es has done nothing wrong, you have no right to arrest him! We have protection against–"

The guard raised his hand, palm forward, and two guards came down the hall from behind her, trapping her in the narrow hallway. "We are not arresting him, though we have some questions for you. It seems there has been some foul play. Trying to get yourself into the position of the Stormwarden?" His eyes were sharp, a glare strong enough to break through Shardplate, no doubt.

"F-foul play? What is the meaning of this?" Zez yelped, the guards behind her motioning her forward lightly with the blunt of their spears. "Is Stormwarden Sil'es alright? What has happened?"

"Perhaps she is... she doesn't seem like... maybe..." One of the green-clad uniforms whispered, although loudly, to the head guard.

The head did not falter, only looked to his side into the chamber. "Stormwarden Sil'es has been murdered, and you best let us in on all you know, Assassin of Tea."

The guards motioned her forward again, escorting her further down the hall, passing Sil'es' doorway. Just inside Zez could make out his body crumpled on the ground. A shattered teacup lay smashed against the ground around his hand.

-

-

Zez was a mess. She had left the Stormwarden for only a few minutes before returning, or trying to return, to him with the spanreed. He had been there for her for the longest time, like a second father to her, even though he had his moments of being rather cross. He was a kind man who did everything for his people and for Highprince Amaram... what kind of person would want him dead? He was a Stormwarden of all things, not a Highprince, nor of royal bloodline. He was just... Sil'es...

The head guard, Captain Heral, entered the room. It was dark, save it for the goblet of spheres in the center of the table. There was a door behind her, which locked from the outside as Heral entered. An interrogation room and Zez was the suspect.

"I imagine you understand why you are here, Miss Zezilia?" He stalked around the table slowly, looking over what looked to be charts in his hands. They were drawn big enough and without enough words that even he could figure out what they meant. "Not many get close to Stormwarden Sil'es, seeing as you're the first ward and scribe he's taken on in months. Since his last one—" He stopped abruptly.

"Please, sir, he keeps that under wraps... He wouldn't want you talking about such things." She corrected, noticing him stop in contemplation.

Heral looked up with intensity. "Before we truly begin, let us get something straight. You are not a witness, nor helping the investigation, girl. You're to call be Captain, not sir, and not speak unless asked to. I understand that Sil'es had his... secrets, we all do. But they mean nothing now that he is—"

"What?!" She cried, chained hands hitting the tabletop. "No matter if you're a Sir or a Captain or whatever, he was still you're superior. Even in death, he deserves your respect!"

Captain Heral sighed, tossing the board of papers onto the table in front of her, gesturing for her to calm down with a waved hand. Sil'es had done that, must be an authority-power thing. "Fine. We'll play your game your way. Stormwarden Sil'es is a man to be revered, and I lost my temper. I ask you to stay calm, as well."

"Well, when you—" Zez began again, about to reference the change in attitude and the dark room, but thought better of it. "Sorry. Understood. What is it you want to know?"

"Where were you this morning? We take it to believe that you were the last person in contact with the Stormwarden-"

He lifted his hand before Zez could interject again, and added; "Please, we do not fully consider you the one who did this. We know you were not in the room, for some reason, during that time. The guard simply needs all the facts we can get, Miss Zezilia."

She calmed herself and did as such, it wasn't often that people either knew her full name or used it if they did. "We started the morning as we do every Chachel—I dust through the shelves, desks, and such, and Sil'es begins his morning with breakfast on the balcony. He swears- swore- that by spending time outside, he could become closer with the Stormfather and His plans.

"During and after his breakfast we'll normally study the logs from the day before from the other lands around Roshar. However, whenever he suspects a highstorm is gathering, we'll set the logs aside and send word for a second or third opinion from other Stormwardens. Today, he said another storm would be coming, so I went to get the spanreed from communications and..."

"Wasn't there just a highstorm the other day? He couldn't have been ser—"

Zez gave him a grave look from beneath her brown bangs that hung down in front of her face. Again, disrespecting Sil'es. Typical. Storm-warding never would be seen as a respected science or art.

"Sir- Captain Heral, he might sound like a lunatic sometimes, but he has never been wrong with his forecasts. No matter what, even if I'm skeptical, I have to hold fast to his word."

Heral scratched at his chin, sitting back. With a flick of his hand, a guard came into the room to release her from the chains on her wrists—her safehand still gloved. Removing the glove or the safepouch from within the sleeve was worse than death for most women. "I see... you're cleared. Either way, to finish, you went to collect the spanreed? To where? And when you returned, you saw us and made no attempt to run or flee."

"Yes, I thought that you might've been there... to arrest the Stormwarden... And the spanreed is set to Highprince Amaram's warcamp on the Shattered Plains, Captain." She, under the table, produced the spanreed from her safepouch and set it down on the table carefully. "You can ask the quartermaster in communications, I was in a bit of a rush to get back, he could probably tell you that, as well."

"Captain!" The whispering guard from before burst through the room's door without a knock. He was sweating bullets as though he'd just run to the Plains and back. "You might want to see this! They left a message!"