Eric stared up at Osha's entry gates, squeezing his fists tight. Home.

Home?

In the pocket of his uniform trousers rested Abigail's bracelet. Part of him didn't want to know how she came to be on that executioner's platform. He wondered about the child as well - what would make a boy a threat enough to bring him to an isolated base? 

Walking through the gates felt almost as surreal as it had walking back into Treywick. The passage of time always fascinated him, and while it seemed to only have been a few weeks, it'd been three years since he'd almost defected from the Army and been whisked back to Osha to face his pare--the king and queen.

They'd sent him away again after a year of training to become the Commander. After his two year mission in search of the heir, he was back in his own city.

Where Abigail should be. 

He had to know. On his first chance, he'd check. 

The Osha Palace stood tall and jagged against skyline, the turrets like blades slicing into the clouds above. Built of shiny black onyx, the palace gave off the eternal feeling of night - something Eric had never found discomforting in the least. The night called to him, more now than ever before.

"Home sweet home," Samson said from beside him as they passed through the hulking double-doors. "As bustling as ever." 

Servants, soldiers, and stewards moved through the main hall in fluid ease, used to the traffic. A woman with a pinched expression paused at the sight of an entire unit entering the main gates. 

"Commander Lee, you're back?" She sniffled as she approached, dipping into a curtsy as she reached him. "Their majesties weren't expecting you for another month at least."

 "Mrs. Vue, I need to speak with them at once. It's a matter of some importance."

Mrs. Vue's nose wrinkled, but she nodded. "They're in the second study on the third floor. The king's in a mood."

Eric nodded. The king often had moods to plague him. He turned to his men with orders. "Samson and Jensa with me. Bring the prisoner. The rest of you report to the Lieutenant on duty and then go see your families."

They obeyed at once, with Tyrella Tremaine being brought forward by Jensa, who gripped her arm with a ferocity Eric didn't appreciate.

"Release her. There's nowhere for her to go now."

Jensa loosened his grip, but didn't let go. The three of them ascended the steps at the far end of the hall, rising higher until they reached the third floor. The freshly polished black stone, decorated by torches, expensive rugs, and paintings accompanied them all the way to the second study. 

Eric knocked once they arrived, receiving a curt, "enter." 

The study, which was the larger of the two on the third floor, held books banned in Braskey - most on the lore of Guardians and Ancients.  Some towns still had their own secret, locked away libraries like Treywick, but none had the expansive forbidden tomes like the castle. 

They lined the walls, leather bound in tans and reds, with the occasional green or blue. An oversized desk sat on one side of the room, a plush armchair placed before it. The king draped himself over it, his ruddy beard manicured to the last hair on the queen's orders. At the sight of Eric, Bainon propped himself up, a twinkle lighting his amber eyes.

"My boy!" He stood, marching over to Eric and clapping him on the shoulder. According to those who knew, Bainon hadn't recieved Tarvril's height, but he had gotten the looks. Eric searched the King's face for any sign of his own features there.

Instead he found Maverick's strong brow and Claire Knight's smirk. 

"Sir," Eric bowed before him. "I come with news."

"You've caught the heir?" Narissa's voice sounded from behind them, but Eric didn't turn. He could sense her slinking up beside him, her dark eyes welcoming as she searched his face. "You've ended Tarvril's line forever?"

"Tarvril's? No." Eric didn't wait to see her disappointment. "I have, however, brought you none other than Tyrella Tremaine."

Narissa's black eyes widened, alight with excitement as she peered past Eric to the woman standing just beyond. 

"Ah, yes, Tyrella. You're older than I remember."

"And you, Narissa, have gained weight," Tyrella snapped back.

"Tsk tsk." Narissa stepped up to the former queen, running the back of her finger down Tyrella's cheek. "Where's your son? The one the Militia waited for?"

"She said he ran," Jensa said, grabbing Tyrella by the arm again. "She said he would be where we'd never catch him. She tried everything to kill herself on our journey back, but I knew what she meant to you, my queen."

Eric's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He'd long suspected Jensa's loyalties were selfish, but how disloyal could a soldier be when he chose his queen over all else?

"She knows I can make her talk," Narissa said with a wicked grin. "That I can make her hurt beyond words. Where's your son, Tyrella?" 

Narissa held out her hand and lightning crackled within her palm. Eric's jaw clenched and he stared at the electric ball of light, silently reminding himself it wasn't meant for him - that he needn't be afraid. 

Tyrella's eyes popped wide and she jerked back, but Jensa braced her from behind, forcing her closer to the queen. 

"Now now, missy," he whispered to her. Eric could almost feel Jensa's breath on Tyrella's cheek and he turned away. Samson, he saw, stared at nothing, a solder at the ready.

"My s-son is no threat to you," Tyrella said, eyes flashing as she glanced at Eric. "He's not Tarvril's. I married again. He's no heir."

"Liar," Narissa hissed, holding the lightning ball closer to Tyrella's face. "Do you know how painful death by lightning is? It's not instant, as one would hope - not my lightning. You feel it for an eternity before the pain finally ceases. Is this what you want?"

"She's telling the truth."

All eyes turned on Eric, who blinked, surprised he'd spoken.

Narissa cocked her head. "What did you say?"

"She's telling the truth," Eric repeated, unsure of how he knew this. "Her son isn't Tarvril's."

"How do you know this?" Bainon asked, a nervous sweat beading his forehead. He hated the lightning as much as Eric did. 

"I don't know." Eric frowned between the king and queen. "I just do. I can tell."

Bainon nodded, his lips pursing. "Yes, that would make sense. I'm not sure Tarvril could even father children. He tried for so long." 

Narissa still watched Eric, a curious quirk to her brow. "Do you feel it in your bones? The truth?" Eric nodded, and Narissa's gaze flicked back to Tyrella. "Take her to the dungeons. We'll deal with her later."

Jensa left without a word, but Samson didn't budge. Narissa eyed him with what Eric sensed to be a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

"You've been dismissed," she said.

Samson turned to Eric as though waiting for permission. A subtle power shift seemed to change the very gravity of the room. Without saying anything to Samson, Eric turned back to Narissa.

"You said to pick someone I trust with my life and my secrets. I chose Samson. He stays."

The faintest flicker crossed Narissa's face. "You're defying me?"

"I'm only doing what you've taught me to do."

"Which is?"

"Take charge."

A long pause followed Eric's answer. Narissa's gaze raked over him, taking in the subtle changes he himself had noticed over the now months since he'd run into Phoenix in the Pass. He wondered if she'd comment on them.

She didn't.

"The heir in Treywick - he's dead, yes?" Narissa brought a finger to her lips as he continued to study him.

"I stabbed him myself," Eric answered, somehow sensing he wouldn't be able to lie unless he was creative with the truth. 

"And you never miss your mark."

"Never."

Narissa nodded. "You're feeling....well?"

"I am. Stronger than ever." Eric waited for her inspection to cease, noticing the king eyeing him from afar.

"And...these. What are they?" Bainon stepped forward, gesturing with both hands to Eric's markings. 

"I don't know, Sire. They appeared one day."

Bainon grabbed Eric's left hand and poked at the lines. "I've seen the likes of these before. Where have I seen these?" 

"You've never seen them." Narissa slapped Bainon's hand away. "You must be joking."

The king frowned. "No, I'm pretty sure I have. On a Guardian."

"You fool. Guardians wouldn't have markings."

"How DARE you call me a fool!"

A squabble between a married couple is rarely comfortable, even less so for their grown children. Eric fought the urge to squirm as Bainon and Narissa went back and forth on Bainon's memory until finally the king bellowed in a rage.

"You never take me seriously!" He stomped from the room. Narissa balked, mouth agape.

"How dare you storm out on me!"

When the door slammed behind the queen, a welcome silence filled the study.

"I would be content to never experience that again," Samson said, cutting through the quiet.

"I feel the same." Eric glanced around the study, never having been allowed in it on his own before. Books on Guardians and Ancients awaited before him, and Bainon had said he'd thought he'd seen markings on a Guardian before. "Samson..."

"Sir?"

"I have a sudden thirst for knowledge." Eric grinned up at his Second.

Samson cracked his knuckles, returning the mischievous smirk. "Do you want to start alphabetical by title or author?"

Eric and Samson might be learning some new material.

Welcome to Eric's happy childhood home! I want to hear ALL THE THINGS YOU THOUGHT about Narissa, Bainon, and the onyx castle. 

Love yer guts.