Leef raised his head, staring back with a quizzical gaze. His facial muscles remained stiff, granting the perfect view of adult-like angelic features. A smooth waxen and unblemished face with silky tousled blond hair. Did he remember her?

"Oh, well isn't it Queenie," Varnis said. His stiff lined face remained hard, but the dark clouds dulling his amber irises lightened a smidgen.

"Doesn't that get old?" Isla crossed her arms and smirked.

Varnis scratched his unshaven beard. "Not as old as this war and watching good men die."

"The lucky ones die," Wolfe added, "we aren't lucky, Boss."

She stepped closer, her eyes darting back to Leef's lone form. His demeanor softened, releasing his prior rigor and numbed emotions. Leef's lips parted, but he clamped his recognition short.

He knew. No, he remembered.

The instant urge to poke and prod became trapped behind the blood-tinted lense of Rydin's death. With the truth dried and obstructing her throat, a coldness seized her body.

"What brings you back?" Varnis continued, melting her frozen stiffness.

Her gaze hovered on Leef but shifted. "I can feel Arcadia weeping."

Varnis frowned. Yet, Slate spoke first, "Are you trying to say we're all going to die?"

"No, dimwit," she rebutted. "It means you're incapable of handling this war any longer."

"What?" he growled. "I don't want to hear that from a God. No less than one that abandoned us all."

Her peripheral caught Leef's subtle forehead crinkle. "Your expectations were too high if you thought I'd come to your rescue. I'm a disgusting God, remember?"

"You-"

"Dude, shut up," Wolfe berated. "Every single time, you do this."

"She deserves it. Look around us. Look at how many have fallen because of her people."

Isla rolled her eyes. Her people? The same ones who hunted her like small game.

"You forget, she's our Queen," Varnis countered then switched topics, "so what will it be? Come to assist?"

She hesitated, stepping back and glancing towards Calimitrin. "Depends. I'd likely add more harm than worth on the frontlines."

"True," Varnis mused shifting his head towards Leef. "Hey brat, shouldn't you be thanking her?"

Leef's brow crinkled. "What for, Boss?"

"Eh, you don't remember her?" Varnis' attention flickered her way, "not memorable, are you?"

"Thanks. I try not to be," Isla retorted but joined her gaze towards Leef. "Forget it. It's not important."

"Not important? You spent a kingdom's worth of gold on rescuing a child but it's not important," Slate decried.

"Idiot." Wolfe smacked him.

"Isla?" Leef intoned. Yet, the emotion she expected to pilfer his face seemed unfound. In fact, the colorfulness she remembered had disappeared. Was it merely age?

"That's right," she replied. Her nerves vacated her voice. But her fingers twitched and tapped instead.

"Hmm," he hummed, his head tilting. "You haven't aged."

"Yeah, I don't."

"Right..."

"Arcadia's unblessed, can you two stop your awkward fit?" Varnis growled, slamming the table with a fist.

"Jeez, Boss. Let the two have a moment," Wolfe mocked.

"Eh, let him. He needs to release stress somehow," Slate joined.

"Isla," Leef voiced, disrupting the ensuring debacle between Varnis' gang. A pause followed as the rambunctious lot quieted. "Where's Rydin?"

Her chest tightened and she stared without restricting her view. The memory enlaced with her thoughts, emotions and words of watching Rein kill Rydin. How could she forget? Her responsibility bore front and center. Rein even proclaimed her the reason. If not for her father, if not for her foolish attachment and relaxation, Rydin would still live. How did she voice this truth without quivering in shame?

She lowered her lashes, a moment lost, but pride dictated she remain upright. "Leef." Her calm and even voice spoke as her gaze peered straight, "Your brother is dead."

Isla expected shock, anger, or sadness. Some kind of fleeting emotion before he questioned her further. Yet, a silence dragged between them with only the subtle breathing of those alive.

After a pause, he spoke, "How?"

"I killed him."

His eyes widened before narrowing as his mouth flattened.

"Wait," Wolfe intervened, "Come on. That's not completely right. Explain it further. The kid will misunderstand."

Leef waited, but only excuses surfaced. Plain and pitiful excuses.

Isla relaxed her eyelids, hiding her sight away. She had felt guilt back then. Those failing emotions quieted from her constant struggle and race for escape. But now, they returned, stronger and more defined. No, maybe the guilt now felt right. Self-pity? Perhaps. Still, the emotion grounded her to the present.

"Do you have nothing to say?" Leef voiced as his body tensed.

"No."

Wolfe stepped forward, but Slate dragged him backwards. Varnis merely stood straight with arms crossed, surveying the situation.

A pained frown covered Leef's face. "He trusted you, you know."

"I know," she continued without withdrawing her gaze.

His head bowed with a hand concealing the complication beneath. "As expected of a God."

Right. She was a God. Osiris had made that obvious truth known. But now it hurt too.