NEVEN

Guards blocked off the harbor and every entrance in the city the moment they arrived and rejoined Warden-Commander Faehariel and her entourage. Everyone's patience waned when the housecarls of the Hanekan monarchy refused to step aside even with the reminder of their golden creed. Each one stared at him when Faehariel tried to implore them to step aside, to no avail, simply pointing her in the direction of the castle, the seat of Haneka's political power. Lost with no other recourse, Neven followed with the rest of the contingent, an entire battalion squished into the city while Hanekans retreated out of sight and the city's gloom set upon his shoulders as they were waved into the throne room.

Molten marks scorched the thick stone at his feet. Leashes from the sun, he resisted the urge to brush his fingers along the curling heatwaves, and he lifted his head when Warden-Commander Faehariel stepped forward to the dragon-carved throne, where an auburn-haired man sat with his legs crossed and a slouch to his posture. In another smaller seat, a black-haired boy, the same one he rescued from the forest. Terror froze his expression when they made eye-contact. The young boy shivered when Faeharle stopped at the steps and looked up at the king and his crown. Her fox-like ears pressed against the back of her head. "Why have you closed off the port, Thormar? Your men won't allow us safe passage to Euros."

"King Thormar, Faehariel," he corrected with a venomous tone. Her ears straightened out against her horns at his audacious words, but Neven held his tongue and let her handle it. "I know the Storm Wardens think themselves to stay out of what you consider beneath your doomed conflict, but I cannot let anyone leave Sivaport at this time."

Commander Faehariel's gaze furrowed in confusion at his words, though Neven understood the insinuation well enough. I... remember this feeling... but from where? He shuffled on his feet and his feathers tickled the points of his ears.

"You cannot keep us here," Commander Faehariel argued. "We don't hold any loyalties in any political conflict. You must let us return to Euros anon."

"If you deign to leave, I will not allow you to return to port," he explained and straightened out his posture, as if the weight of his crown was yet another mere insect to create dunes made of the bones of his people. "Turn after Turn you've spirited away able-bodied Hanekan's on a fruitless endeavor. Derelicts are not as strong as they once were, so I will not allow you and yours to steal away young warriors for your death sentence."

"What in the hells is he talking about?" Kemal whispered beside him while Evani looked to his partner in startled confusion. "Haneka's infestations have always been the worst on the continent... He should know that."

Oh, Kem... this isn't what this is about.

From the way Warden-Commander Faehariel folded her arms and steeled her position of authority against a king, she understood. "You need not lecture me on history, for I was there when the Pact of Hundred was written. We go wherever we must — wherever we're needed to combat the apocalyptic threat the Derelicts pose with every crimson dusk. Kings have no sway over us and have no sway in our decisions; as it has been since that Pact was written and filed into the Convocation's law, not so easily changed."

Neven relaxed at her rock-solid authority, but he frowned when King Thormar cast his gaze over the Wardens, then rested on him and him alone. Uncertainty cracked his feathers into a rattle, and Kemal gave him a confused side-eye. Apathy is finality. He timed his breaths with the fleeting comfort. Apathy is death. It is the ancient fear. Everyone trembles underneath its crimson doomsong.

"I wasn't aware the Wardens took those from the Frozen Wastes."

Naveera. It's called Naveera.

Kemal put a hand on his back and scrunched his armor to keep him in place.

"If you wish to speak a law at me, I shall do the same," King Thormar said. "Every single Naveeran who passes through Sivaport must be subject to a search to confirm that they are not spies or assassins. If it has nothing to hide, you are free to leave."

It. Condescension. Demean. His shoulders stuck to his neck at the subtle aggression towards him, and Kemal released his hand from his armor. In a synchronized song, the others tugged out their crescent blades without his apathetic fear. Another gasp, Kemal pushed ahead of the crowd. Fury sparked in the deep browns of his irides. "Why would we hide anything? You're the one who sits on his fat ass and ignores the plight of his people!" Kemal's rage took him off guard when he went the next step and pulled out his emergency sword along with his crescent blade. "You want this Warden? You're going to have to crawl over my rotting corpse — and you better damn well hope I don't turn into a draugr before you get there, Your Grace."

Kem? Neven grabbed onto the back of his armor in turn, to keep his Oathbound in place. "Kem—"

"What is your name, boy?"

"Kemal Tyronai."

"Ah." King Thormar's interest heightened from his stiffened posture. "You're Lord Tyronai's older brother. One of Bersun's sons. You gave up any claim for your pointless duty." He waved his hand in inconvenienced dismissal. "I bet your father is proud of that. I even recall one of the last things he said to me. He had wanted you to be around to guide your little brother before he took that unfortunate sea voyage."

His strength waned when Kemal took another hot-headed step forward. His knuckles turned white on the grip on both swords. "You meant the voyage you sent him on, you bloodthirsty lech!" One more step forward, and Neven hung on tighter when the king pushed the one button Kemal had. Family.

"Welcome to the sea, boy," King Thormar chittered, unfazed. "I'll be sure to tell young Stigan the fate awaiting the Wardens — what remains he should expect from his beloved older brother."

Kemal slipped out of his grip and straight into Faehariel's hand instead when she slammed it down to keep him from approaching the steps. "Hold, Warden Tyronai," she scolded. "Recall your oath. Do not break it for something so underneath you." One more nudge, Neven dragged him back into the line and kept a hold on him as he fumed. Everyone had their crescent blades at the ready, to protect him, even though it wasn't so long ago they bemoaned him, his foolish attitude, and his ignorance to the wider world. Faehariel ascended the king's steps and looked down on him from her impressive stature. "You labor under the assumption that I will not act, but believe me King Thormar, I've seen kingdoms rise and fall before you were born. I have witnessed Derelicts lay waste to entire lands and leave the ground corrupted to its roots. You're a small king playing his game... and I've seen hundreds of you. Hundreds who met their end and the Derelicts persisted in their depravity. Let me remind you." Commander Faehariel's shadow engulfed both the king and the terrified, frozen child. "If you ever do anything to threaten or harm my Wardens, I will quickly consider you the equivalent of a Derelict to be erased from this world." Her hand raised towards them, and the signal reverberated through their battalion. Most of the others sheathed their crescent blades, though Kemal kept his in the open. "If you try to stop us, I won't hesitate to demonstrate what happened to those kings I've outlived."

Housecarls jolted at her promise, so different from the king's threat. Neven shivered at the powerful force in her voice. "We leave on the morn," she said when she returned to them, and Neven noticed she edged herself in front of him as well. "I pray to the Ancients that this kingdom shall no peace 'ere long. If you reject the help of the Wardens, our necessity... then there's nothing we can do for your blackened heart." Fury entered the king's gaze, but Neven let himself be waved out of the castle as the outer Wardens kept their crescent blades out when they came for the doors. The housecarls appeared to think better of standing in the way of the golden law.

"Why did you all do that?" Neven rasped to those collected around him, to serve as body shields. "Isn't the world more important than one life?" Tears cracked his cheeks when Kemal turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "You don't know what you've done."

"You think we're scared of some lout on a chair?" Kemal demanded and some of the Wardens halted with Warden-Commander Faehariel. "You genuinely thought we'd let him take you without a thought? What's the matter with you?" He flicked his brow. "You're a Warden, and we barely have enough as is."

"Warden Tyronai is right," Warden Commander Faehariel said from the front. "Those around Warden Lotayrin... head for the lodge — and if anyone tries to advance on you... do what you must. I shall see about getting the harbor opened temporarily to let us leave Sivaport."

Neven choked on loyalty when they ushered him past the gates, but he came to a slow stop when something latched onto Kemal. Black hair weaved with the wind when he met Reyn, the child from before. He gazed up at him with a plea in his expression, a bid for freedom. Kemal's brow furrowed, but he looked straight ahead and refused to acknowledge the child at his hip. Housecarls poured out of the portcullis behind them, and Neven allowed a hiss to escape his nose. In an instant, Kemal twisted around to feign checking on them, sending the young prince straight into his hand instead, into the center of the protective shield until they were out in the streets. Reyn whimpered in his shadow, and looked up to him with terrified gratefulness before bolting out of the way and into the shadows of the damp alleys.

"Kem—"

"I'm not scared of an asshole wearing a hat," Kemal reprimanded him as their battalion split. "Get that through your thick skull... they bleed just like the rest of us. They're not special just because of a chair and a hat. Everyone has a damned chair and a hat somewhere." Kemal kept his crescent blade at the ready as Hanekans parted with the ocean. In the relative safety of the Warden quarter, Evani dragged Neven into the lodge proper, where brine scattered sundrops through the skylight. "Now, we wait for Warden Commander Faehariel," Kemal instructed. "I want people to keep an eye out, make sure he doesn't send his housecarls to do his dirty work."

"But—"

Kemal glared at him. "You put so much reverence on a damned chair and crown, Lotayrin." He flicked his fingers at one of the Wardens, and they tugged a chair over. "You think this is what makes a king? Or a leader, even?" Kemal narrowed his eyes, and Neven jolted when he sent his foot into the center of the chair and it shattered by its legs. "It doesn't. He clings to those because the perception of them makes him feel powerful... because he isn't."

Neven forced himself to nod.

"Good. We're on the same page, finally." Kemal sheathed his blades. "Good to know that if I put an elaborate hat on you might start bowing," he teased through a rock-solid expression, and Neven relaxed. "All we have to do is wait for news from the Commander... and then we're going home, and so are you." He sent a tough prod into his rib-cage. "Don't underestimate us again, Lotayrin, or I'll show you what power is." He sent a quick glyph into the chair to repair it and hand it off to the same Warden who brought it.

Neven curled his hands together, and jolted when someone else clapped his back. Evani shook his shoulder afterwards when the others departed with a couple standing by the doors.

"It's just, he's a king and even if it's just perception people still fear—"

"We are Storm Wardens," Kemal insisted. "Nev, you aren't some noble-blooded aristocrat now who needs to watch what he says at every corner or bend to any random, bloodthirsty whim of someone with power they shouldn't have. You are one of us, and we will rise together or fall together, no in-between, no divisions, no Hanekan, no Naveeran. Just us against the Derelicts. If the king wants you... as I said, I ain't afraid to use my own rotting corpse to rip him apart." He whipped his sword through the air before sheathing it on his hip. "Got it, or do I need to kick your ass around in place of Yusari? What do you think she would've done if she heard the shit he was spouting?"

Neven choked on the image. "She would have..."

"Longed to drive her own blade into his throat, and unlike me... we both know she doesn't have the self-restraint to not just bulldoze her way past the Warden-Commander," Kemal pointed out. "So, who's really powerful, Nev? The man who says he is... or the woman who would kill him on sight for using words rather than actions?" He let the question hang in the air before disappearing into the records room, and left him under the skylight.

The one... who lets their actions speak for them.