The council meeting had dragged on longer than Arto anticipated. The room had been stifling, filled with the stale air of old men arguing over matters that seemed less and less relevant to the pressing dangers he felt lurking around him. When the meeting finally adjourned, Arto barely waited for the formalities to end before slipping out of the chamber, his heart pounding with urgency.

He moved quickly through the castle corridors, his steps light and deliberate. He knew the guards' routines by heart, every hidden passage and shortcut that would take him to the small, hidden alcove. It was their spot—his and Kael's—where they could speak freely, away from prying eyes and the suffocating weight of the crown.

He had to see him, had to explain, had to warn him about the rising tension within the palace walls. The heavy guard, the whispered conversations—something was brewing, and Arto felt caught in the middle of it. The only person he could truly trust was Kael.

As he approached a narrow stairway leading to a lesser-known exit, Arto glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that no one was following him.

But just as he reached, figure emerged from the shadows ahead, blocking his path.

Sir Balthus.

Arto's breath caught in his throat, his heart sinking as the older man stepped forward.

His cold eyes fixed on Arto with an intensity that sent a chill down the prince's spine, it was so unlike him.

"Where do you think you're going, Your Highness?" Sir Balthus asked, his voice smooth and deceptively calm.

Arto quickly composed himself, trying to mask the anxiety that threatened to betray him. "Just taking a walk, Sir Balthus. I needed some air."

Sir Balthus's lips curled into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in it "You are supposed to meet Sir Garrick for your training session."

Arto forced a casual shrug. "The day's been long, and I've had a lot on my mind. I thought some fresh air might help clear it."

His gaze didn't waver. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over the young prince. "I would have thought you'd learned by now, Arto, that nothing escapes my notice. I know exactly where you were headed."

Arto's pulse quickened, but he fought to keep his expression neutral. "I'm not sure what you mean, Sir Balthus."

Balthus's smile faded, replaced by a hard, unforgiving look. "Do not insult my intelligence. You were going to meet Kael Blackwood."

Arto's breath hitched, and he struggled to maintain his composure. "Kael is my friend. We've known each other since we were children. There's nothing wrong with seeing him."

Sir Balthus's eyes narrowed. "The Blackwoods are under suspicion, if you must know. You've always been warned to keep your distance from them. Yet here you are, sneaking out to meet with the very people that are declared a threat."

Arto clenched his fists, a surge of defiance rising within him. "Kael has nothing to do with whatever schemes you're imagining. He's innocent."

"Innocence is a luxury we cannot afford to believe in, not now," Sir Balthus said coldly. "Your loyalty should lie with the crown, not with childhood friendships."

"My loyalty is to the truth!" Arto shot back, his voice rising despite himself. "And I know Kael. He would never betray me or this kingdom."

Sir Balthus stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You are young, Your Highness, and far too trusting. The world is not as simple as you wish it to be. Sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

"Let me go," Arto said, his tone firm. "If you truly serve the crown, then you'll trust me to handle this."

For a moment, he seemed to consider the prince's words, his expression unreadable. But then, with a swiftness that took Arto by surprise, Sir Balthus clicked his fingers, and from the shadows, a swarm of guards appeared, surrounding them in an instant. Arto's eyes widened in shock and confusion.

"Sir Balthus? What's going on?" Arto's voice trembled with a mix of disbelief and fear as he watched the guards close in around him. 

When Sir Balthus remained silent, Arto's panic escalated. He began to struggle harder against the guards, his heart pounding in his chest. "He's... he's in danger, isn't he?!" Arto's voice cracked as he shouted, the realization dawning on him with a force that nearly took his breath away. "He's in danger! Let me go!"

The guards tightened their grip, their hold unyielding as Arto fought against them with all his might.

"Please, you have to let me go!" Arto pleaded, his voice breaking with desperation. "You don't understand, I have to find him!"

But Sir Balthus remained unmoved, his expression cold and distant as he watched the young prince's frantic struggle. 

"Why won't you say anything?!" Arto yelled, his voice hoarse as he continued to fight against the guards' iron grip. "What's happening? Why are you doing this?!"

"These were orders," Sir Balthus spoke, his voice low and resolute, cutting through Arto's cries like a blade. It was a statement of finality, one that offered no room for further questioning.

"Orders?" Arto's eyes burned. "From who?" he demanded again, his voice growing weaker, more desperate.

Sir Balthus's hardened expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of something like regret passing through his eyes. He sighed deeply, as if burdened by the weight of his own words. "Sir Garrick will be waiting," he said, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant. "We will speak about this later."

The shift in tone caught Arto off guard, and the fury that had driven him just moments before began to ebb away, replaced by a heavy, sinking feeling in his chest. The guards, sensing the change in their commander, loosened their grip on the prince's arms.

Arto didn't resist as the guards released him, his body slumping slightly as if the fight had drained from him. His mind was a whirl of confusion and hurt, each thought jumbled and tangled. He looked at Sir Balthus, searching for something—an explanation, a reason, anything to make sense of this. But all he found was his guarded expression, the slight downturn of his mouth betraying the conflict within him.

Without a word, Arto turned and began to walk with the guards. His steps were heavy, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The corridors of the castle, once familiar and comforting, now felt cold and alien.

As they moved through the castle, Arto's mind churned. What was happening? Why was he being kept from Kael? And what orders could have turned Sir Balthus, a man he trusts dearly, into a silent enforcer of his captivity?

The questions swirled in his head, but there were no answers. 

As Ondina and Kael made their way through the bustling streets toward the castle, the familiar path felt different—heavier, almost foreboding. The early morning light filtered through the mist, casting long shadows on the cobblestones as they approached the castle's outer walls. The usually lively marketplace nearby was eerily subdued, with vendors exchanging uneasy glances rather than their usual cheerful banter.

Kael was the first to notice it. He slowed his pace, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene ahead. Ondina, walking beside him, followed his gaze and quickly realized what had caught his attention. There were far more guards than usual, their stances rigid and alert. Every entrance to the castle seemed to be under close watch, with soldiers stationed at regular intervals along the walls. Checkpoints had been set up, and the atmosphere was thick with tension.

"Huh.. I didn't know I had a welcome party." Kael muttered, his voice low and cautious. "They're on high alert. This isn't normal."

Ondina nodded, her own sense of unease growing. "Do you think they're looking for someone?"

Kael's jaw tightened. "Maybe. But this feels different. It's not just about protecting the castle—they're expecting something. Or someone." He glanced at Ondina, his expression serious. "We need to be careful."

Ondina's heart skipped a beat. She could feel the weight of the danger pressing down on them, making every step they took feel like a gamble.

Kael and Ondina moved quickly and quietly through the narrow alleys that wound around the castle's outer walls, making their way toward a secluded spot where Kael and Arto often met in secret. 

As they reached the spot, Kael's heart pounded with anticipation. He half-expected to find Arto waiting for him, as he had so many times before, with that familiar grin on his face and a witty remark about Kael's knack for sneaking around. But as they emerged from the shadows, Kael froze.

The alcove was empty.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the space where Arto should have been. The frustration welled up inside him, a knot of tension and worry that had been building ever since they first noticed the heightened security around the castle.

Ondina placed a hand on his arm, sensing his distress. "Kael... maybe he's just late. Or maybe something came up. We can wait a little longer."

Kael shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. "No. Arto wouldn't just leave without telling me..."

Before Ondina could respond, the sound of heavy boots on cobblestones reached their ears. Kael's attention snapped to the source, and he instinctively pulled Ondina back into the shadows. From their vantage point, they could see a group of soldiers marching in formation, their weapons at the ready. And in the centre of the group, flanked by two towering guards, was Arto.

Kael's breath caught in his throat. He recognized Arto's posture—the way he held himself with a mix of defiance and resignation. His friend's face was set in a mask of calm, but Kael could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

"Arto..." Kael whispered, a mix of relief and frustration flooding through him.

Ondina watched the scene unfold, her heart sinking. "They're taking him somewhere. He looks... like he's under guard."

Kael's frustration boiled over into anger. "Why didn't he wait for me? Why is he letting them take him like this?"

Kael clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. "I have to get to him. I have to find out what's happening."

Ondina hesitated, looking between Kael and the departing group of soldiers. "We can't just charge in there. There are too many of them, and they'll be on us in seconds."

Kael knew she was right, but the frustration gnawed at him. Seeing Arto being escorted away like a prisoner—unable to do anything about it—was almost too much to bear. His mind raced, trying to come up with a plan, but all he could feel was the growing fear that Arto was slipping further and further out of reach.

"He's avoiding me." Kael said bitterly, his voice laced with hurt. "What if he knows something and doesn't want to face me?"

Ondina's heart sank as she saw the anguish in Kael's eyes. She could sense how deeply his frustration and fear were affecting him, the weight of helplessness pressing down on him.

For a moment, Ondina's own internal conflict surfaced—her initial impulse to confront Arto with deadly intent clashed with her empathy for Kael. Seeing him so vulnerable made her reconsider her approach. The thought of causing more pain to someone he cared about became increasingly difficult to bear.

"We can distract them," Ondina suggested, her voice firm yet soothing. 

Kael turned to her, his eyes still clouded with doubt. "Distract them? How?"

Ondina took a deep breath, her mind racing through possible strategies. "We can create a diversion—something that draws attention away from Arto's whereabouts. If we can pull the guards away for a while, it might give us the chance to find him."

Kael's eyes narrowed, a flicker of hope igniting in their depths. "And you think that would work?"

Ondina nodded, her expression resolute. "It's worth a try. If we can manage it, we might be able to reach Arto before it's too late."

Kael's frustration began to transform into a determined focus. "Alright. What do you have in mind?"

Ondina scanned the area, noting the high-ranking guards and officials moving about with purpose. Her eyes settled on a prominent figure—a senior guard captain known for his commanding presence and authoritative voice. His frequent patrols and interactions with other guards made him a prime candidate for mimicry.

"Kael," Ondina said urgently, grabbing his arm. "You need to get closer to where Arto is being held. I'll create a diversion. The confusion will give you a chance to get through."

Kael's eyes were filled with a mix of hope and worry. "Are you sure you can handle it? It's going to be risky."

Ondina gave him a reassuring nod, her expression resolute. "Trust me. I'll keep the guards busy. Just make sure you move quickly."

With that, she gently pushed Kael toward a narrow passage that led closer to where Arto had been taken. Kael hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between Ondina and the guarded area, but then he turned and hurried off, disappearing into the shadows.

As Kael moved out of sight, Ondina stepped into a more visible position, where the guards' attention was still focused. She took a moment to compose herself, focusing on the guard captain's voice she had studied so closely. Her voice needed to be authoritative and convincing—every detail had to be perfect.

Ondina drew on her siren abilities, her vocal cords subtly adjusting to mimic the guard captain's deep, commanding tone. She practiced a few lines in the captain's voice, making sure her intonation and cadence were precise. With a final, deep breath, she began to speak, projecting her voice with authority.

"Attention, all units!" she called out, her voice echoing with the guard captain's distinct tone. "There has been a critical security breach near the eastern gates. All available personnel are to report there immediately for a full lockdown!"

The impact was immediate. Guards who had been casually monitoring the area snapped to attention, confusion flickering across their faces as they processed the unexpected orders. Some began to run toward the eastern gates, their boots pounding against the cobblestones, while others scrambled to verify the command, pulling out their communication devices or consulting with their fellow officers.

Ondina continued to issue commands in the captain's voice, her words laced with urgency and authority. "Reinforcements needed at the northern checkpoint! This is a code red situation!"

Her mimicry was so convincing that even guards who had been initially skeptical started to move, driven by the sense of an imminent threat. The security around Arto began to falter as the guards' focus shifted to the fabricated emergency.

Ondina kept her distance from the area where Arto was, ensuring that her voice carried over the commotion. She moved strategically, making sure she stayed within the guards' line of sight without drawing too much attention to herself. The key was to keep the illusion of the guard captain's presence active, directing the chaos with precision.

As she issued another urgent command, a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth, muffling her voice. Ondina's eyes widened in shock as she was yanked into the darkness, her heart pounding in her chest. The figure's strength was overwhelming, and she struggled against the firm grip that pulled her into the shadows.

The world spun around her as she was dragged behind a thick column. Ondina's breathing was ragged, her eyes darting to identify her assailant.

As Kael edged closer to where Arto was being guarded, the situation became increasingly tense. The guards had returned, their presence now more formidable, forming a tight perimeter around Arto. Their vigilance was unmistakable, and Kael's frustration boiled over. He muttered curses under his breath, feeling the weight of his failure pressing down on him.

But then, something caught his eye—a brief, reflective flash of light coming from a side passage. Kael's sharp gaze locked onto the source of the light, and he saw a figure partially hidden in the shadows, attempting to get his attention. The reflection was from a small metallic object, catching the light in a way that made it impossible for Kael to ignore.

Kael's heart skipped a beat. He moved cautiously, weaving through the shadows to avoid drawing the attention of the guards. The figure emerged more clearly as he approached, revealing himself.

"My name is Elric, I know your brother Cyrus."