Leaning on the marble railing stood Homokirus showered under the endless lines of color reflected through the geometric cut stained glass of the dome above. His eyes followed the passing boys, golden burners swaying in their hands, smoke trailing behind them as they approached their chanting peers in the marble-paved yard. They joined the prayer. Their gleaming eyes fixated on the high rectangular cuboid of carved malachite in the center of the temple.

A gentle wind blew, stirring his grey hair, carrying with it the smell that triggered buried memories of a time long past. His weary gaze drifted to the pillar closest to him—one of the hundred pillars that carried the dome's weight since its construction by the elders. The gold and vermilion painted symbols illuminated in his eyes, speaking of ancient wisdom, easing his restless heart and mind. A tear escaped his eye, nostalgia smothering him. He failed to fulfill his sacred promise of protecting her, his most cherished prize, the fruit of their union and love, Suarus. He bit hard on his jaw, eyes darting the gigantic block of green divine under the scattered light.

'Your Majesty!' Evixrus's surprised exclaim echoed in the space. 

Homokirus turned away, brushing the tear off his cheek, turning to meet the bowing priest.

'Wise Evixrus,' said the king, gesturing for the high priest to arise.

Evixrus rose, posture straightened, entwined fingers in front of him.

'Anything?'

'Nothing of significance yet, Your Majesty,' he replied, glancing at the polished cuboid.

Homokirus's facial expressions flattened, glare blazing, cheeks flushed.

'Aren't you The High Priest, protector of the Gaxmanisus and the strongest, most knowledgeable of priests and wizards? How is it that you have found nothing?'

'Your Majesty, I am afraid we have failed to see.'

'Is it because you lack the skill, or has she...' he trailed off, dreading to continue.

'It's neither, Your Majesty. We can't see her because she was veiled!' 

'A spell?'

Evixrus shrugged. 'I fear it is more powerful than a simple spell, Your Majesty.'

'What could be more powerful, Evixrus? Speak of what you know!'

The priest's pale green eyes searched the space around them before leaning closer, whispering under his breath, 'The Gaxmanisus.'

Homokirus backed away, wide eyes locked on the green block, face ashen.

'Has it been broken?' he asked, not looking away.

'No.' the priest firmly answered.

'Then, how?'

'I...' the priest sighed, 'we... don't know.'

The king dashed towards him, clutching his green robe. 'Your job is to know!'

The priest swallowed. 'I...will look deeper into it, Your Majesty.'

'Dig into your ancient books or call upon dead spirits. I don't care by what means. I want eyes on her, do you understand.'

'Yes, Your Majesty!'

The king let go of him, walking away. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders as he stepped out of the temple into the sunlight, startled by Laniserius's unexpected appearance.

Lanesirus kneeled at the bottom of the broad stairway, a million questions crossing his mind.

'Your Majesty.' he managed to say, raising, observing the king's swift descent.

  'Walk with me.' He ordered, passing him.

Lanesirus followed a step behind. 

'What is it that you came here seeking?' Homokirus's thin lips asked.

Lanesirus's hands turned into fists, fighting the rage boiling in him. 'How?' he muttered almost unheard.

The king abruptly stopped. He turned. His gaze locked on him, an eyebrow lifted.

When Lanesirus spoke again, whatever measures he had set for himself broke loose. Words gushed out of his mouth, unstoppable. 'How did she learn of the gate and its lost spell? Its existence is as sacred and forbidden as the Gaxmanisus itself! What drove her to pass? How was she capable in the first place!... How—'

The king's raised hand put an end to Lanesirus's hale of questions. He turned his back to him, his moist eyes avoided.

'You are hurt, and I understand your pain... But, to be truthful, It is I to blame.'

The words sounded strange and unsettling. For the king to confess such a thing, taking the blame for something no one saw coming. Lanesirus could not help taking a step back, bracing himself for what will be spoken next.

  'Desserious,' he said with contempt, looking at his open palms, 'I should've executed him with my own hands instead of banishing him into the wilderness.'

'Desserious...' mumbled Lanesisrus, a furrow between his eyebrows.

'I knew of their regular meetings. I allowed it to continue. After all, he was her grandfather...' He trailed off, casting away the painful memories lingering at the tips of his mind.

A long moment of silence passed, too long that Lanesirus thought the king would not continue, but just as he aimed to speak, Homokirus added, 'Desserious, The Wise. The kingdom's oracle and highest of priests. The best this kingdom has ever seen had foreseen a terrible future in which the kingdom and the land of origin no longer existed. He came to me, warning me, begging for me to do something about it, but I have dismissed it as false claims due to its impossible nature as advised by the council. No other oracle has seen similar visions, so he was asked to dismiss his claims as they threatened the kingdom's stability. When none neither in the court nor in the temple listened, he began to reach out to the people. He was accused of heresy and dementia and was banned from the temple that he dedicated his whole life to serve, losing all ranking and benefits his position entitled him. Still, all of that did not put an end to what he was planning...' the king paused, inhaling, listening to the rustling trees that stretched endlessly in the courtyard, 'It was he who lead her astray as he did her mother before.'

Lanesirus stood still. How much of his land's history did he truly know? How much was still hidden? Suarus would not leave everything behind if she did not see the truth in her grandfather's words, yet he could not have empathy for her. All he felt was the bitter loss and betrayal that salted his mouth. 

'Desserious was a deranged man, a lunatic, and above all, a traitor to the realm. Your Majesty, Suarus was deceived, and she needs to be brought back. I don't care what The High Priest says. I will go and get her!' Lanesirus said, eyes gleaming with determination.

'We need eyes on her first to confirm...' the king's voice failed him.

'To confirm if she has survived through the passing? If she was not killed by one of the savages down there? If she was not enslaved, raped, or tortured? Forgive my frankness, Your Majesty, but what is it that you need to confirm?' flared Lanesirus, overwhelmed by the horrific images he pictured Suarus in. 

Homokirus's hand reached for the golden pommel of his sword, wrapping his fingers around its golden sphere. 'If she did successfully pass and was indeed down there... you know most probably she would be dead by now... It is what I want to see, Lanesirus. I need to see it with my own eyes to accept it.' His grip tightened, his knuckles turning white, continuing, 'She would rather be dead too than to expose her realm, endangering its very existence and stability.'

  Despite his composed demeanor, Homokirus's glazed eyes exposed his raw feelings.

Lanesirus lowered his head. His logic and feelings shredded each other. Betrayed or not, he could not simply let go of her. Accepting defeat, waiting, hoping. Allowing precious time to slip while she might be in pressing need of their aid. His aid.

He lifted his head, a fire burning in the back of his eyes. 'She probably is dead; nevertheless, I'll still look for her and fetch her back even if she was no more than a corpse. The princess and future queen of this realm deserve to be honored. To be buried where she belongs!'

'Do you understand what you are suggesting, Lanesirus,' said the king, a hand on Lanesirus's shoulder, 'Are you willing to risk the stability of the realm, disturb the succession line and abandon your duties as the rightful successor of the throne, with or without Suarus as queen?'

That stated fact suddenly crippled him, restraining him like a metal collar tightening around his neck. He knew too well the graveness of forsaking the throne, the chaos and inevitable war that will follow. Things this land and its rules were meant to prevent. His shoulders dropped, tension lost as the raging waves in him stilled, his insides tearing between the two choices. He lowered his head, hiding his apparent woe and torment. Choosing one meant the destruction of the other. Which was more important, his beating heart or the realm?

A sigh escaped his lips, words failing him.

'This is the right choice, son, the best choice,' said the king, hand patting Lanesirus's shoulder.