Eleia had heard the rumours and remembered the bedtime stories from her nannies well. The first palace of King Feures, her great-many times over-grandfather, was the stuff of legends. A man who built his empire from nothing through utilising the power of his friends, House Gulmore, House Tophalis's longest allies; who overpowered the strongest of House Havris and forcing them to yield, thus setting precedence of the strongest house ruling the region; who forced House Luddas subsequently to kneel after seeing the fall of House Havris; and who recruited House Delnargin through a common goal of ruling through strength and House Bunarsa through their mutual hatred of Karma's dominance over Acrise.

King Feures Tophalis was also the one who convinced Hanna, the first summoner, to bless him with the gift of summoning magic, and unified the many remaining tribes across the land into what was known as the holy country of Hanna today. But his palace in Traquair had long been abandoned after many floods and taken over by nearby wild animals. Eleia slid off her horse and stared in awe. A heavy mist sat low and bathed the feet of the rocks dotted around the marshy ground, giving the area a mystical glow. Animals shuffled and ambled away from the direction of Eleia's group, eyeing them warily from afar. The constant flooding in and out of the water made the ground soft and Eleia had to stop and tug her weak leg out of the wet soil several times. Despite her protestations, Okin hoisted her onto his back again per Kaim's orders, not minding the mud from her boots sticking onto his robes. Kaim led the way ahead.

She hadn't spoken to him since he forcibly removed her from Scholar Solidor's home. Kaim had always been so supportive of her aspirations to support Magus to the throne and to restore peace amongst the Hannans as her father had endeavoured to during his years as king. Not once had he dismissed her worries or wishes until that night in Leitholm, when the Karman twins decided to leave the group and head for Bairnkine instead. That should have been the logical step. Everything they did so far had been for Magus. They recruited in Magus's name, trained with Magus's ascension in mind, and spoke of how they would live their lives once he was king and he settled peace with Karma.

And yet when Magus needed them most, when he headed east as a prisoner of her abominable oldest brother, they abandoned him for their own gains, putting greater and greater distance between them. Kaim hadn't apologised at all for his actions, but Okin had thrown her apologetic looks.

Kaim's jaw moved, but she couldn't read his words. He and Okin both spoke facing ahead, one of her biggest peeves. It was an obvious ploy now, compared to the occasional slip-up before, to isolate her from their plans. What she couldn't hear she couldn't interfere in. Her hands curled into fists.

"You okay?" Okin turned his face and said. Eleia scowled at him and turned her head away, deliberately slapping him in the face with her plaits as she did so.

When the men's feet hit solid ground, Okin allowed her to slide off but supported her elbow as she regained her balance on the uneven ground. She straightened her back and eased the ache in her hip from tugging her bad leg about. Lifting up her head, she took in the palace in silence.

Moss covered patchy surfaces of the stone palace. The battlements had chunks missing, eroded by the wind and rain and probably broken from century-past battles. It spread left and right as far as she could see. A distinct scent of wet soil and sodden foliage hung in the air.

Kaim led the way in. Eleia followed, hobbling along, her little pouch of summoner's dust acquired from Leitholm bouncing at her hip. Okin kept close to her in case she wobbled. Cornello's absence hadn't gone unnoticed. She hoped Kaim had a small piece of compassion in his heart in the end and sent him after the Karman twins, otherwise, she dreaded to think how they would fare in the east, with the unpredictable sandseas and deadly creatures beneath the surface and them being so foreign to the ways of Hanna. And if they needed help, nobody would find them for months.

The loose paving stones shifted beneath each of Eleia's steps, sinking a little more into the soft mud beneath. Water trickled down the green- and yellow-tinged walls, moss sitting happily in the crevices of etched depictions of the legendary greats. Pale sunlight shone through the decorative window shutters, some of the wood eaten away by rot. She'd seen these designs in history books — very traditionally Hannan, intricate, symmetrical, and balanced. The air was thick and humid. A chill made goosebumps rise on her arms and legs. She rubbed her elbows, glancing around. This place gave her an uneasy feeling, even more than the dungeons beneath the palace at Falnash. Perhaps it was the ruined ancient carvings or the way shadows appeared to flutter at the end of corridors, like past souls angry at their trespassing. Perhaps the shadows knew the purpose of their journey here, to summon the sealed daemon.

She turned and caught Kaim speaking to Okin. Keeping the corner of her eye on his mouth movements, she pretended to take in the previously-glorious, now-faded paintings and sculptures on the walls.

"...been here quite a lot before the tyrant took over," Kaim said. "House Havris deals with foreign trades, not historical records, but old man Martel didn't have children and was preparing for me to take over, seeing as Leviat would be the one entering the Daemonium... I'm glad the skills come in useful now."

Kaim took them down another flight of stairs. Eleia had to grudgingly accept Okin's help as her leg often didn't obey her when going up and down inclines. They left the stairwell after one flight; the remainder of the stairs sat beneath a pond of murky green and grey. The subsequent corridor had no windows, for they were underground; century-old Tophalite — glowing stones mined in the frozen west, named after the royal family — continued to light the way. Eleia's skin tingled, as though she were bathed in mint leaves. Coupled with the chill in the air, it sent shivers down her spine. This was a place of holiness. Even Kaim and Okin appeared uneasy, despite not being summoners and unable to sense the density of the magic. Daemons summoned here would be powerful. No doubt once upon a time this place would have been part of a trainee's pilgrimage.

Eleia's heart ached at the memory of her own pilgrimage. It had been six years since she went on her own one, when she was ten years old. The royal offsprings always started their journeys early to prove their eligibility as future heirs. But only a year into her journey in the icy west-lands, wolves had stalked her and spooked her horse. Her eyes had caught their movements but she hadn't expected her horse to react so violently, throwing her off in one buckle and her leg snapped. Humiliated, her guards encouraged her to abandon her pilgrimage so she could heal, but it had never been the same since.

She couldn't help but feel perhaps Father would have considered her a worthwhile potential heir instead of letting her sit back as her siblings battled out at the annual trials. Being born without her sense of hearing already made her feel less of a royal, despite Gerta and Magus assuring her otherwise. Only those two never saw her as broken or needing fixing, whereas Mother sought healer after healer to remedy her hearing and Father didn't want to know. Only those Gerta and Magus encouraged her to learn sign language — and learnt it themselves — and to lipread so they could help her better communicate with others rather than solely relying on Castiel to speak to others' daemons. He was, back then, no more than a cloud of smoke as she wasn't able to connect fully with him, let alone bring him into her realm.

Adding the physical impediment after her fall, it was obvious to Father she was a failed specimen and would never be considered for any leading role in her life, even though, despite her failed pilgrimage, Castiel managed to manifest his whole form and was a fully functional daemon with deadly venom, a hallmark of a Tophalis offspring.

It didn't matter how Father saw her now he was dead, but knowing he found her defective didn't hurt any less.

As if sensing her distress, Castiel materialised and wound himself up the inside of her robes, squeezing her with reassurance. Castiel had a permanent weaker form in this world, too, with much-diminished skills until she used summoner's dust to bring forth the rest of his body and powers — just like her siblings and the other royal daemons. But that didn't impress her father either.

Caved in chunks of ceiling mixed with dirt and moss blocked several corridors branching off the sides of the hallway. The Tophalite stones changed colours subtly, altering the atmosphere before them, from ethereal to warm to eerie green. Kaim and Okin both had their blades out in case any wild animals leapt out at them, but all they got were baleful stares from the distant darkness. Past a pile of rubble marking the corner of the corridor, an opening caught Eleia's eyes. Spiralling pillars decorated both sides of the doorway. They paused just outside. The etching of a roaring dragon, surprisingly well-preserved given the neglect until this point, spread across the wall immediately inside. A gold sheen ran over the lines of the dragon, giving each of its scales a mesmerising gleam.

"This is it," said Kaim. "Old man Solidor's magic seals this place year after year. There's a set of doors opening into a giant chamber on the other side of this wall. Nobody's been inside for centuries, he said, but he tops up the seal anyway to keep it strong. Obviously, since Fautos's purging, nobody took over his job, not with House Solidor in disgrace."

"So the seal is weak?"

"Weaker. That works in our favour. Should be easier to wake that ancient daemon without Solidor's magic messing with it too much."

They stared at the etching, which was blessed with magic.

"So how do we open it?" Okin asked at last.

"Strength. Old man Solidor said he based it on how the most effective sealing magics have worked in the history of Hanna. The ancient magics of Hanna have always revolved around recognising your own weaknesses in order to become strong, feeling your strength leave in order to rise above it."

Okin stepped forward and ran a hand in awe over the glistening surface. "And how are you going to do that?" he said, turning his head over his shoulder briefly before facing the etching again.

"Survival of the fittest." Kaim must have said it so softly Okin didn't hear, but Eleia caught his mouth movements. Her eyes widened. Kaim's face took on a tranquil look.

Okin said something, his back facing Eleia and Kaim.

Eleia wanted to shout out a warning but Okin wasn't looking in her direction. Before he could even realise what was going on, Kaim drove the dagger in his hand straight into Okin's back and then pulled out. Okin half-spun around and Kaim stabbed his abdomen, repeatedly. Blood blossomed at the front of Okin's robes. His eyes bulged. His face flushed and then went pale. Eleia lurched at Kaim; her weak leg gave way and she crashed to the floor. The impact jarred her limbs. She could only watch, sobbing, as Okin slumped and collapsed onto the floor. Blood poured out of his multiple wounds, soaking the stone slab before the dragon.

Eleia's body was numb all over. Her arms trembled, barely supporting her upper body, her legs too weak to do anything. Tears sprang to her eyes. The slab beneath Okin soaked through with blood. There was a click so loud Eleia felt the shudder through the icy ground beneath her fingers.

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