Sorein was sick of his own thoughts.

After hearing his own renditions of the affliction his mother suffered for the millionth time, he picked up one of the spare files Levias had left on the counter. If researching her ailment wasn't helping anyone, maybe he could find something his cousin missed.

He stepped down into one of the floor sanctuaries with built in couches and threw himself against the plush cushions.

Unsure if hours or days had passed, Sorein felt just as rigid and uncomfortable as he did entering the library.

Whenever that had been.

Unlike the days of his childhood when he could read for hours without a single care, Sorein found himself worrying about the journey Destry had sent Iliya on and the fact that no one was willing to mention what happened in the ballroom.

The notion made him restless.

Every few paragraphs, his mind would wander and suddenly the words in his mind were more prevalent than the paper. So much so he couldn't retain what he read.

Sorein sighed and chucked the paper across the space, glaring at the way it pooled up on the ground in disarray.

"Someone's in a good mood," a playful voice chimed. Nixian slipped out from a row of bookshelves. "I don't suppose you've heard of a thing called sleep?"

Sorein lifted his bemused stare to the shining emerald eyes and blinked.

"You can't use the warning stare on other royalty," Nixian said, smirking. "Because I know you're not actually threatening me."

He rolled his eyes, slumping back into the couch. "What do you want, Nixian?"

"A friendly hello to you too," Nixian chuckled, his tail flicking as he came down to sit on the couch opposite him. "I haven't seen you in the Infirmary once, have you ever gotten looked at?"

Sorein hadn't. He'd taken to washing his face out in the sink and using magic to heal himself.

He couldn't help the small smile at the compassion bleeding out of Nixian though. The Nerydian male's knack for heckling people with care was a unique brand of kindness, but also an amusing one.

Nixian huffed, his irritation growing. "You're like talking to a brick wall," he said. "Jeremy and I are fine by the way, thank you for asking."

Guilt guttered in Sorein's chest and he looked away, suddenly upset he'd thrown his reading material. "I'm glad."

"Though without the heiress' capable hands, I'm not sure what we'll do," he joked again, laughing.

Sorein's brow raised at that. "Iliya's been in the Infirmary that much?"

The Prince of Cefrias brows furrowed. "She hasn't left the infirmary, Sorein."

Sorein's eyes traced over the sling still wrapping Nixian's arm, though now it was a golden cloth similar to the colors of Aelusia itself. He wondered how much it hurt the Nerydian to be so nonchalant and chipper.

"It's a good thing too because without her help, I'm certain one of the Priestesses would've fallen ill with exhaustion," he explained, propping his good arm on the couch. "She's been aiding the night shift, learning what she can from the Caster's and picking up menial tasks so they can focus on what's important."

He didn't know if he should feel as surprised as he did, knowing they had found Rhydian and Iliya would do anything to stay close to him. Yet he'd never imagined in a thousand years she would overcome even a fraction of her fear so quickly.

It must've read on his face too, because his aquatic friend seemed skeptical of his reaction.

"But it seems like you've been hiding in here," Nixian mused, humming to himself. "You know you should really go pay him a visit."

Sorein sighed. "I'll take that under advisement, thank you."

"Speaking of advice," he said, crossing his arms. "We have other matters to discuss."

"I do seem to remember your ominously vague warnings before the attack," Sorein replied, sitting up. "Is something wrong?"

Nixian's playful demeanor dropped, shifting to a more serious, stoic persona. One Sorein knew to be the face he showed his Court. The Nerydian sized Sorein up with his eyes, looking over every inch of him as if considering just how to share this information.

"Before I arrived in Chiori Faire, I was assigned to several patrols along the Aelusian border," he began slowly. "My Father has spent a lot of time away in Luverie, helping Keelie establish rule and repair the damage her mother did to the country, which has left me to fulfill several of his duties."

Sorein nodded, eyes narrowing slightly at the strange tone in his voice. Reserved. Concerned.

"My men have found plenty of odd things in their day, but something we'd had no experience with were the Taqrias. Most of the studies and scripts on them were destroyed a long time ago, but we found something interesting in Carya's temple," Nixian went on, holding Sorein's stare. His knowing look was weighted and tense. "There are depictions of Heithos temple which convey a current of energy traveling beneath The City of The Lost, a Portal which can be accessed through his temple."

His words sank in, leaving a foul taste in his mouth as they started to connect with his own knowledge of Azuris. Sorein couldn't imagine what Nixian had found, but if it was bad enough to force this conversation, then something was very wrong.

Nixian didn't wait for him to process. "If someone were to access this Portal, if they were to use it either to travel or to summon other things through, there are more devastating consequences than just the Taqrias."

Sorein's stomach dropped. "What are you saying?"

"Pestis Ceigair," Nixian answered, his gaze saddening. "In my tongue, this translates directly to The Summoner's Plague."

He didn't know what to think. Sorein could only imagine what he was implying, but he hadn't known of any plague outbreaks.

"Is someone ill?" he asked.

"You tell me," Nixian said. ""The plague slowly saps away a person's life force, initially causing headaches and memory loss, until their mana becomes critically low and they begin hallucinating. Every case has been inevitably locked into confinement due to insane, erratic tendencies.''

Nausea swept through Sorein, pushing at his throat. The implications, the parallels were too much for him to comprehend.

"I've received many reports from the coast of Azuris indicating an irregular mana-bleed."

"Nixian–"

The Nerydian raised his hand and shook his head. "We know your mother has fallen ill, Sorein," he interjected. "With how much time you and your father spend in the library, I'm inclined to believe neither of you were aware of her condition. I find it admirable that you've both dedicated so much time to the matter."

He was going to be sick. Sorein stood up too fast, the room spinning around him. His friend stood and balanced his shoulders, staring him down.

Nixian held him steady, squeezing one of his shoulders in an attempt to ground him.

"What can we do? How do we save her?"

The Nerydian sighed. "She's done this to herself, Sorein."

His mother. His gentle, nurturing mother who'd spent his entire childhood teaching and protecting him. The same woman who spent most of her time guiding spirits to the City itself, who loved all souls. Sorein couldn't think straight, his breathing unstable.

"Are you saying she summoned these creatures through the portal?" He snapped, shoving away from Nixian.

"No," he said, his voice dropping even lower. "However, I'm certain that at one point someone used her to find the Temple and she may have been present for the summoning."

His wording was careful, Nixian's stare plunging from warm and compassionate to hesitant and guarded. He slowly lifted a defensive hand and stepped out of the sanctuary.

Sorein noticed his intentions, the space being provided for him and attempted to right himself.

Nixian watched him closely. "I'm not attempting to persuade you, nor do I expect your father to believe me with half as much grace as you," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. Laughing at his own sentence even in this tension. "All I wanted to do was give you the information. I've told no one else, nor do I intend to. I know an internal affair when I see one."

Sorein blinked, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "You're warning me...?"

"Yes," he replied, sighing. "Sorein if another court finds out what ails your mother, if I am right, then you will need to find out who she assisted and where they are."

"Why? What did they summon?"

Nixian frowned. "No one knows."

Sorein felt like the world was spinning and threatening to cave from under him. This couldn't be true. This was a nightmare.

"Should you be able to convince your father, the courts will receive the information better from you," Nixian explained. "If they find out on their own, this terror will only worsen."

"He wouldn't listen to me even if the crown were on my head instead of his," Sorein whispered, rubbing his face. "Not when it comes to her."

"That might be his downfall," Nixian murmured back. "Please, don't let it be yours."

The Nerydian waved, dismissing himself sadly as he stalked back through the endless rows of books. His exit was hastened by the sound of a closing door, as if he'd needed to regain his own composure.

Sorein could feel the waves of apathy he so desperately clung to sink beneath the current of panic. He was shaking, his hand stretched before him uneasily, trembling. The only thing he could think to do was move.

Leaving the library, he paced up the sweeping hallway and out into the entryway, looping past the ballroom with scattered attention. His focus lept from the exhausted Guards and busy Priestesses to the Estates game room, passing each.

His mother.

Nixian believed his mother to have summoned these demons or worse, aided someone else in doing so.

The evidence was there, the whispers along the walls louder and louder as he walked, unsure of where he was going.

Sorein didn't know how he wound up in the Infirmary, staring through the glass paneling. He stared in shock at the remaining injuries. Each room was half filled, as injuries healed and people quickly left to find their families. Even most of the Guards were at least on their feet by now.

All except for Jeremy, whose Fae blood might be the only reason his Captain was still alive.

Sleeping, but alive.

He watched as people attended to his pillows, a Caster set down some medicine on the stand beside his friend's bed.

Alive, yet far from well.

The pounding of Sorein's heart picked up again, the confinement of this space crunching in on him, the sensation grinding his bones. Fear and guilt swarmed into the panic, creating a torrent of frustration in his mind.

Everything was out of his control.

His breath caught in his throat and the Prince lifted his hand to do the only thing he could think of.

On the table beside Jeremy, a shard of ivory engraved with healing sigils appeared. A spell he'd learned from his mother, a spell he held close from Azuris. The aura was pure and soothing, emitting protection from greater evil and corruption.

Sorein was always meant to protect the souls of their realm, not bring them greater destruction.

He'd given himself to Aida for his purpose.

A purpose this world was threatening to take away from him.

Without the ability to control his thoughts any longer, Sorein left.

Unable to look another soul in the eyes.