Cal watched as Matias's eyes flashed rapidly between James's orange and his own steel grey. Tears streamed down her face as relief crossed his own. Matias closed his eyes and collapsed in the sand.

Cal pulled back her magic and knelt down in the sand.

"Matias!" She rolled him over and tried to shake him awake. She looked up at her father as he knelt down beside her husband. "I can't get him to wake up!"

Akaljot shooed Cal away. He leaned over Matias's face, his ear inches above Matias's mouth and nose. He straightened up and put one hand over the other. "He's not breathing." He rose above Matias and pushed down on the centre of his chest.

A gaping hole opened within Cal, and she felt herself beginning to fall. "No." A new wave of hot tears started to fall. "No."

"He was fated to die in the upcoming war," Maria had said.

She shook her head. "Please don't die," she whispered. "Please don't die, Matias."

Akaljot stopped pushing down on Matias's chest. He pinched Matias's nose closed and put his lips to Matt's. After several moments, Akaljot resumed pushing down on his chest.

"Come on, Matias," said Akaljot through gritted teeth. "Come on."

Matias's mouth opened and he inhaled deeply.

"Oh, gods!" Cal sobbed. She took Matias up in her arms.

"Give him here," said Akaljot. "I'll take him to a medic. Will you be okay to walk?"

She nodded as her father took her husband from her. Cal got to her feet and immediately felt light-headed.

"I don't," she said, swaying in her feet. "I don't feel too good."

The world tilted and Cal crashed into the sand.

-

Matias opened his eyes, pain spearing his chest. He moaned and scrubbed at his eyes. His inky black hair fell into his eyes.

How long had he been unconscious?

"The princess," he whispered and tried to sit up.

A gentle, calloused hand on his shoulder pushed him back. "You're okay, Matias. You are in the infirmary in Freidens.

Freidens. It slowly came back to him. Vivid memories of Tenebrarum's attack on the Eirineften capitol. The princess of Lucis-Calista Pyro-had run into the thick of the attack. He had run after her-to protect her; she was his charge after all-but multiple soldiers had overpowered him.

"Princess Calista," he said. "I have to make sure that she's okay."

"Cal is fine," the Everlight said, sounded exasperated.

Matias looked up at Commander Bjorndottir. "I failed her as Captain of the Royal Guard."

Akaljot's brows furrowed. "Your eyes..."

"What about my eyes?"

He was handed a mirror, and Matias looked at himself. He looked like he usually did. The same black hair, the same olive skin, and the same coloured eyes-his right eye was steel grey, and his left eye was a fiery ember orange. Stretching from the left corner of his mouth up to his ear was a jagged scar.

Matias handed the mirror back to Akaljot. "I don't see anything wrong."

Something flickered at the back of his mind. It was dark and most of the colour had been muted. Everything was slightly blurred.

A memory?

It was a time from when he and Princess Calista still lived in Pyro castle in Valon. Both of his eyes were grey, his face unmarred from his scar. He was younger-still a guard but not a captain.

And then it was gone. But it was swiftly replaced with another one. It was more vibrant and clear than whatever that thing in his mind was.

"Why are my eyes different colours?" the five-year-old Matias asked his father.

Lord Miles brushed his son's hair out of his eyes. "It's because the gods blessed my handsome son. Those blessings will come to fruition at some point during your life, Matias."

His father. The Queen's Hand. He must be suffering greatly under Melania's occupation.

"Matias?" asked Akaljot. "Are you okay?"

He glared at the Everlight. "It's Captain Gomez," he snarled. "And I'm fine. I need some shears, my uniform, and some soap."

There was pain in his pine green eyes. "I can arrange for that."