As usual, the morning came with some sunlight shining through the corridors and into the many chambers. The walls matched most of the district, with a torn white brick instead of the marble present inside. The bars were silver, and the general cells, if you could even call them, were rather spacious, with a big bed and some room for a table and a few holes serving as toilets.

At first, Rowan would refuse to reside in such conditions. Still, with Chyuuichi's words, the two eventually got used to something more luxurious, than, for example, the basements of Nuil's castle, but then again, this wasn't a typical prison. In general, the Mainland and most of Errarion didn't have a specific building created to house those wrongdoers and instead used already existing space as a means for quick travel towards the criminals.

Guards stepped in the boots of a 'prisoner' guard and led to Rowan thinking that they'd be able to convince them to think otherwise. Alas, same as with Atomu, seven months have passed without anything in sight. After all, it was supposed to be up to the King to make the final decision, and while Atomu seemingly accepted his fate, Rowan only grew more annoyed.

They rubbed their eyes, sighing out and standing, their hands landing on the ajar door of the chamber. The hall itself was as dimly lit as it always was. Even with the morning light coming in, no one ever bothered to blow off the candles near the yellow lamps.

The residents which already stepped out of their cells moved into the main hall where all the food was served. Breakfast was usually silent, with the Mirillian trying to strike up a conversation and Rowan dismissing his words.

The rest of the day consisted of indoor activities such as a few card games, but Rowan was always more interested in sitting in as if something always bothered them. The other things the two could do were rather obvious. There was a bathing room and an indoor area for the Paladians to exercise.

Nearby, a rather modest library resided, which Chyuuichi tried using as an excuse to strike up a conversation with the Tributal. Things stayed pretty much the same way they were beforehand. The Mirillian's attempts at making friends were usually scolded or shrugged off, and despite the faux luxury, the air was always cold.

A few guards stood around the general area, observing every person present. Keen eyes were focused on the two, but quickly, they moved to the others, especially if something was out of order.

Rowan gulped, tapping at the side of the white plate, instead of eating their food. They rarely did, anyway. Chyuuichi usually ate up their portion if he was allowed to do such by one of the guards.

Mentioning them, once again, someone stepped through the hallway, whispering something to the other. Rowan snuck a careful glance at Kania, whose conversation seemed too distant to tap into, and as quickly as he appeared with blood on his fingers, he stepped to the side with a grin, disappearing behind another door.

The Tributals sighed, squinting their eyes. "Seven months."

"Ya've been keeping count?" Chyuuichi asked.

"Why wouldn't I do so, Chyuuichi? Besides, take a gander through those few windows and you can tell that Herbes is starting. I've been told that the vines of Oldenklow turn into this crimson colour in Dear, shrink in Yule, grow back green in Herbes and turn much puffier and bigger in Gorro." they shook their head. "Look how much time we've wasted, sitting absolute ducks."

The mentioned prison area was much closer to the actual focal point of the district, the Goldenleaf Castle. From up here, even if things were loud, you could barely hear them, and as Paladians generally went, there was always a means for celebration, even if they were barely allowed to do so.

Big events seldom happened in Oldenklow, even if people tried to initiate something out of the blue it'd have to pass through several others before certain rules could be set in place for anything to occur. The prison area was part of that as well. Half of the books in the library were written in Old Manjuno, and it'd take a good few attempts before new ones would arrive, but no one cared enough for such to happen.

Rowan would, in any other case, but as things generally went along, the two didn't ask for too much hope.

"Seven months." Rowan clenched the fork, tightly. "Seven fucking months," they whispered. "That we're never getting back. The world could've changed without us doing anything at all."

Chyuuichi frowned, sighing out. "What else is there to do?"

The Tributal ground their teeth.

"We've been patient, and that's hard for me, of all people, to do...!" he cracked an unsure smile. "I have a hunch that we'll eventually step out, maybe sooner than later."

"You said the same thing on the first day we stepped inside and back then I wanted to believe you, but now I still don't," Rowan uttered. "This isn't what we were meant to be doing. This isn't where our story should've ever ended!" they subtly raised their voice. "...and all would've been just fine if not for that traitor!"

"Something wrong?" one of the guards spoke.

Rowan huffed, before shaking their head.

Chyuuichi looked back at the man and then turned back to Rowan. "B-Bancho is not a traitor,"

"How long are you planning to lie to yourself?" Rowan asked. " There won't be a Guardian Demon to save us or some... divine intervention from the aboves. No deity, belief, good or badmouthing people will solve anything."

Chyuuichi frowned, looking at his half-finished portion, and then at the sharp fork and spoon on the sides. Rowan glanced at their cutlery as well, seemingly unbothered. The guard finally turned to face the other.

"It's only up to us to stop wasting our time." Rowan shook their head.

"It's..." Chyuuichi gulped. "...about Ambrosia, isn't it?"

Rowan's mouth was half-open. They stared at Chyuuichi for a little longer, and the Mirillian played around with his fork, unprompted.

"Like, we all have something to fight for in the real world, and yer talking about that, out of all things," he uttered. "This is the entire reason ya agreed to follow us."

"It's more than-" Rowan halted for a second, meeting Chyuuichi's wide-open stare.

Chyuuichi stuck the fork into the food. "Then why don't we escape?"

Rowan blinked a few times, completely taken aback. "Escape? How are you planning to do that? Ridiculous."

"Ya heard the story, didn't ya? There was an escapee who only used one fork and one spoon to dig their way out of this place." Chyuuichi whispered. "The wall behind my cell is hollow. I have a window there!"

"They've put measures in place, since then." Rowan rolled their eyes. "One fork and one spoon won't cut it, you idiot!"

"But we have two spoons and two forks." he smiled.

If all prisoners were equal, then it meant the only thing which separated that escapee was purely the determination to try and achieve something, despite the impossible odds.

***

Much like Willia, Oldenklow was composed of completely white, marbled buildings. Spare the few wooden ramps, bridges or small stone balconies, next to the castle, they could be seen as a trademark of the town.

That would be if, there wasn't one key part of Oldenklow that strangely underlined its rather monotone architecture.

Long vines were ever-present and pretty much invading every single building that existed, whether it was by choice or pure accident, even the new structures, inside and outside were invaded by the epidemic. Spare for the lengthy descriptions you could make, fountains in the middle of small squares, niche and bigger streets, gates separating the royal parts or pillars splattered pretty much without any pattern, Oldenklow was the home, the epicentre of all things noble.

If it wasn't for the restaurants having the word 'Royal' in front of them, the streets themselves were names of all royalty that could probably be found in the Errarion Entrophy. You'd think that, with such stories, Oldenklow would be pretty much reserved for those with noble blood, and... you wouldn't be wrong.

Oldenklow could be described as one big circle, with the more accessible outside, and the inside being where the Goldenleaf Castle proudly stretched atop. Everything that could be commercial was on the 'outskirts' of the district, but with how small it was in comparison to some other giants, you're pretty much guaranteed to stumble upon ludicrous prices or certain stories that would make you think "Wow, these people are so sophisticated and scary!".

Think of Midcity in Magna for a bit. A good chunk of that was people advertising everything, and as mentioned back then, the closer you were to the obvious, the more of a victim you were.

Now think of stalls and such people in Oldenklow. The outside was littered with them, even if the guards tried attempting something once beforehand, they quickly gave up, and now only intervened if the mentioned got too close to the gates. Music was everpresent, sellers tried to convince you to buy something that wouldn't ever be useful, and some people would pretend to be royal and convince you to sneak into the gates only for you to be severely punished.

Today was a little different, however.

Gone were the merchants, gone were the people with massive clotheslines advertising 'exotic' Haran attire and everything was pretty much open and yet, empty. The extremely overpriced restaurants in niche places under arches with tables sitting in picturesque locations were left closed and the few who frequented them would be disappointed if their attention didn't shift towards everything else.

The bigger streets connecting towards the castle and then spinning circles around towers and whatnot were filled to the brim with people making way for the king or guards holding them back.

"WE LOVE YOU KING SEBASTIAN!" one yelled out.

"He's already behind that gate. That's Lamon." someone else added.

Lamon stayed in the back, on a separate horse and found it a pleasant surprise that everyone waved their hands at someone as seemingly insignificant as him. Then again, a nice warm smile and a pretty face were always appreciated.

There was a specific reason why Lamon stayed behind instead of following the other guards. He turned around, with a rather serious expression and signalled something to the other men. The few Tributals and Paladians nodded, and as the street turned with a rather big clock in the middle striking around ten, a few voices were raised amongst the crowds.

Instructed to move back, Lamon stepped off, fixing his armour and taking off his brown gloves.

"Make way for the Royal guests, everyone! Welcome them as warmly as you did the King!"

The masses followed the instructions. Instead of sulking over their happiness and joy in alcohol like those in Prope Portam probably would, the sheer idea of joyful reunions, or in this case, extremely potent welcoming was good enough.

"Didn't you hear the guy? Cheer, Ranpa!" Kania spoke, pushing on Ranpa's shoulder. The other made a strange move, before closing their eyes, arms indefinitely folded.

"Yay," Ranpa uttered, awkwardly.

"Louder." Kania raised his voice.

"Yay!" Ranpa raised a fist.

"LOUDER!" Kania seemingly motivated him.

"I d-don't understand why you want me to do so?"

Kania rolled his eyes. "If you can't, then I'll have to show you!" he stepped out from the crowd, hastily pushing along the others. "YEEEEEAAHHH!"

His wave of words caught onto the others, and soon, the same thing that would happen in Prope Portam happened here as well. Kania continued cheering as if competing with everyone else on who gets to yell the loudest.

As opposed to his stripped-back outfit earlier, Kania now bore silver armour, fit for his position. After all, through all the time that's passed ever since the deal he and Ranpa made, lots were to be learnt.

Kania was one of the five children of Sebastian, and while he didn't necessarily resemble the way he spoke about all the other quiet individuals, his attitude and general persona seemed to be highly respected amongst Paladians.

He was high-energy, and that didn't change, despite his motifs, but Ranpa knew more.

Ever since Yule, it has been pretty much every place in Lignoria Kania could think of for Ranpa to search for the crown, despite him swearing off that he had no clue where it could be. Then again, the conditions weren't as bad as he thought they'd be. Even if Kania made fun of Ranpa for his inability to do things, he'd find himself taking the long route to make sure something happened.

In Orawood, a big branch almost crashed Ranpa when he was tasked to search inside a dozen bushes, and yet it was Kania who destroyed it, laughing about his power and seemingly amusing the few passing Erans from the nearby mountains.

He would always come up with excuses and find ways to justify his actions, especially to Ranpa. Even if the other Paladian tried running away from his deed, Kania would probably find him.

He pretty much lived the same life as back then but now his promise seemed more impossible to keep.

"YEAH!"

***

"Holy!" Eryk muttered, glancing outside of the carriage and up onto the hilltop. "It's massive."

"Huh?" Zuimu tilted her head.

"The castle, I mean." Eryk turned around.

She shook her head, mumbling.

"Well, I'd be one lucky man if that King would ever allow me to step inside his silver halls." he grinned. "Best luck to everyone there, then!"

Zuimu nodded, turning to the passing street in front of her, and the people waving in her direction. It felt nice being the center of attention even if she wasn't the one who was supposed to be receiving praise. Furthermore, even stranger was the fact that she managed to get in without being questioned further about her status. Eryk, being Eryk, made sure to complain about the carriage's inside temperatures that the man steering the horses accidentally took a different road.

Either way, she shrugged.

"Is that Lamon?" Eryk asked.