It had been a few days after Keilan and the others' ambush and their subsequent escape from the jaws of the apocalypse-tier dragon. And even days later, the mood was tense, fear spreading through the alliance like a drawn cord.

  Huiron had departed almost as soon as they'd arrived, returning back to his homeworld. Since House Saulae was lacking in leadership—apparently, Lord Duveyar had not been the only Lese Founding Lord present during their rescue—it had fallen onto him to lead his house.

  Sareina on the other hand, had vanished. As far as they knew, she was still on the planet, but where? No one knew. But Keilan knew better than to search for her now. He understood that she was grieving, even though her father was still alive, at least as far as they knew. But the possibility of his not returning was by no means a small margin, which continued to rise as the days passed.

  Facing not one, not two, but over two dozen dragons had evoked a sense of peril within all who had witnessed it. And no matter how powerful both Sovereign lords of Lese might have been, they couldn't win against the power of multiple dragons, even if they were bolstered by the powers of the Millennial Wardens.

  It hadn't helped that the Desolate Duchess had refused requests for answers from everyone, including her grandchildren. The Primarch had sealed herself up, restricting access to her presence only to her daughter, who remained tight-lipped and evasive to their requests.

  They were told not to worry, that all would be well. It was well known that battles of High realms went two ways; either they were ended within the first few minutes to an hour of encounter, or they could last up to days and weeks, or even months. There was no middle ground.

  Considering that beings like that mainly relied on their wills as their main source of power—as Keilan had been told—the result of a battle usually came down to who had the strongest will, leaving the first to falter as the loser.

  They'd taken this as consolation and departed with hopes in their hearts. The fall of Lese was a possibility no one wanted to acknowledge.

  The entirety of the alliance was tense and stretched. The attack on Za had only been a fraction of what Lese had been facing. In fact, getting back home had revealed that basically all the border systems between Lese and The Dominion were under attack, with a nigh endless stream of refugees pouring in as consequence.

  Planet Za had been one of the more unfortunate ones, seeing as it had lacked a System Guardian during the Aveanii invasion, which had resulted in the death of the World Spirit and the subsequent incursion of a Blood Demon.

  Other systems in comparison weren't so unfortunate. Most were blessed with System Guardians—Sun Spirits—who’d held back, and on some occasions, defeated and repelled the invasion force long enough for their charges to evacuate off system.

  The alliance was on high alert, with House Verrille having marshalled basically the entirety of their forces, invoking Thousands of Warships and Spirit Kings into the systems, so much so that Keilan doubted the possibility of an enemy reaching Lese core without meeting heavy resistance.

  Ascendants were roused, their wills the only sign of their presence as they scanned entire worlds for any strike groups or incursion team the Dominion must have sent.

  For the first time since he'd arrived, Keilan saw why Lese was viewed as one of the superpowers of the core. The entire Alliance had come together, disbanding feuds and petty rivalries to combat the looming threat of the Aveanii.

  Spirit lords and Kings from about every House in the alliance had been called to action, their strengths used to bolster the armadas filling space.

  Still, even with all this, the near entirety of Lese's power being brought up, darkness still loomed over their heads, undispelled by the awe-inspiring sight of military power. The absence of two of its pillars still hung over their heads like the blade of an executioner.

  Left with nothing to do, the others had pressed themselves into other tasks.

  Solis, since he wasn't cleared to leave, considering how recently they'd just arrived and the possibility of another ambush, had put himself behind a desk, effectively turning himself into a pencil pusher.

  Keilan had checked in on him once, with a cake and a smile. And while the cake had been taken, he'd been swiftly kicked out with a warning never to return.

  Vanis was a different matter. The stoic Verrille—apparently a bookworm—had engrossed himself in books and journals about demons. Keilan felt guilty for not helping him, considering how his brother had vanished.

  Rather he concerned himself with the arrangements of the incoming refugees, both those within and those on their way.

  The Ver Worlds were large. Being Ascendant worlds, ancient and no weak ones at that, they were so massive that they could hold up as many as several hundred billion people, at least that was what he'd been told.

  Still, the world couldn't take on the whole of the incoming refugees. Many would have to be sent back as soon as they were treated and fed.

  With assistance from Tym—yes, they were dating now—he helped document the refugees, helping them back onto massive civilian crafts that carried them into other Lese Worlds, ones with a small existing population and more space than they could do with.

  He and Tym took a break after a week of nonstop work, taking some time for themselves to relax and unwind, after which Keilan moved on in search of the Duveyar heiress.

  He found her in the merchant district of the city, sitting on a pier behind a section of large warehouses.

  At first glance, she seemed to be alone—her flame bird absent—but as he approached, shadows shifted, revealing themselves into female warriors that watched him as he got closer.

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  They said nothing, neither did they bar his path, but the warning was clear in their eyes. ‘Touch her, and you die'.

  Keilan swallowed and nodded.

  Unlike previous times, Sareina was not putting on her usual dress. Instead, she was clothed in a simple cream colored shirt and light brown pants. A black boot sat beside her on the pier, while her legs dangled carelessly above the calm waters.

  “Can I?” He said as he approached, to which the lady nodded without looking.

  Sitting down, Keilan also removed his boots, mirroring Sareina and leaving his foot to dangle above the water.

  There were many things Keilan could have done at that moment, one of which would have been a commiseration for her plight. It was an obvious choice, a choice anyone would take. But Keilan knew better.

  In the weeks after Damien's disappearance, he had wanted nothing more than quiet. The others had understood that and had stood with him in silence, simply keeping him company.

  He did the same. Together, he and Sareina watched the sun set over the ocean, the beautiful sunlight lighting up the ocean surface in bright gold.

  Eventually, Sareina spoke.

  “I will be leaving Ver very soon, back to my home.”

  Keilan nodded. He understood. Just like Huiron, her house also lacked a leader. It should have been obvious that she'd also be going back.

  “Will I–” he paused, “will we see you again?”

  There was silence for a few seconds. “I do not know.”

  What was left unsaid was that she'd only return if her father did.

  “I'll miss you,” Keilan said eventually.

  “You would?”

  “Of course. You're like the glue that holds us all together. Our mother away from our mothers.”

  She smiled, letting out a warm chuckle. “Thank you.”

  Again, they relapsed back into silence, drinking in the dwindling sunlight and the distant sounds of seagulls.

  This time when the silence was broken, it was done by Keilan's hands. He breathed in, a shadow of a smile tracing his lips.

  “My sister would have loved this place.”

  “You never told me you have a sister?” Sareina said, perking up a bit.

  “Had.”

  “...oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “It's okay,” Keilan waved it off, even though it definitely wasn't okay. Even years after the ordeal, the memory still remained sharp, like a scab, just a scratch away from opening. “It's all in the past.”

  Sareina was silent for a few seconds, and then she asked. “Can you tell me about her?”

  Slowly, he turned his head to look at the flame headed lady sitting beside him. “You really want to know?”

  “I do,” she nodded. “Tales of your past have been… —how should I put this?—non-existent. Not of any fault of yours, I understand now. Still, I wouldn't mind knowing, even if a bit.”

  Keilan was silent for a while as he stared at her. He agreed with what she'd said. Ever since that night, he and Damien had come to a tacit agreement never to speak of it again. A silent agreement that they'd adhered to after more than a decade.

  …maybe it was time to start opening up.

  He paused to gather his thoughts, dredging up the pit that he called his mind for memories of a person he'd held so dear to his heart, more than anyone.

  “Her name was Leira,” he began, eyes turning from Sareina to focus on the distant ocean surface. “She was nine when it happened, but before then, she was a blabbermouth,” he smiled, “always putting her mouth into other people's business.”

  “I take it more often than not, you were her regular victim?”

  He chuckled. “Trust me, you don't know the half of it. For some reason, all our deeds—Damien’s and mine— were somehow revealed to her. She always had knowledge of every shenanigan we were pulling, and held it like an executioner’s blade over our heads. Threatening us in one form or another to do what she wanted, else she'd sing to our mother.”

  “You caved?”

  “Of course we did,” he blew out air as his chest deflated. “What else were we to do? But now that I think about it, we should have just agreed to perish and let her take her gossip to mother. Because in the end, she still managed to spill, although not intentionally. Kids those ages were not wired to keep secrets.”

  “Hm, she sounds like a smart girl.”

  “True,” he said. “She was smarter than kids her age. Cared more than she let on, and was a big hugger when she thought no one would notice. Mother used to call her ‘little woman’, a title that evoked no small amount of pride. My sister was not one for humbleness, less so when it came to Damien and i. She was still the best, though."

  “Sounds just like someone I know,” Sareina laughed.

  Glancing at the girl, he narrowed his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling you're said someone? Was there an unfortunate boy who crossed your terrible path? Who is he, and does he still hate your guts?”

  Sareina turned her face away, but not before he caught the subtle upturn of her lips.

  “He was my brother,” she whispered.

  “Oh…”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Tassen was the best thing to ever happen to House Duveyar. He was feared and revered by enemies and allies alike. Warriors beholden to our house practically worshipped him. A devil in the battlefield, but at home... at home Tassen was my best friend.

  “I was unawakened then, could not do much by myself. When he wasn't on the training or on duty, he spent all his time with me, taking me on joyrides on his Flame stallion.” She chuckled. “i can't count how many times father got furious that I was carried up such great heights, said my body wasn't strong enough to handle it. Of course, Tassen did not listen. All that father said went through one ear and out the other. All that really mattered to him was that I got to enjoy the wind, touch the clouds, and see the sun hovering just on the other side of the World Barrier.” She turned to Keilan. “You know, I always wished for a Wind Affinity when I was little.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. I didn't mind having just the wind element, I just wanted to touch the clouds again, feel the world in ways I couldn't.”

  “But you can now. You could fly up and touch the skies as much as you like, feel the world as you want.”

  “I could,” she nodded, “but it wouldn't be the same way as you.”

  “What do you mean?” Keilan frowned.

  “Every element has a different feel on the world. A person with Lightning affinity has a separate perception of the world than one with the Wind Affinity.

  “Alongside the SoulFire affinity inherited from our father, Tassen had the Wind affinity, inherited from mother.”

  “What happened to him?”

  Sareina smiled, a thin lipped one. “There's a reason house Duveyar is held back when dealing with the Dominion. Father earned the title, Monarch of Red Skies, after the ambush, and would have earned a much darker title had the others not come at the right moment."

  Keilan frowned. "Why would they hold him back from vengeance? I would think that the others would be in support."

  “Vengeance would have been easy to exact, but the toll of that repayment would not fall on us lords, but on those under our protection. Father understands this, and so do I. The only way to take our due without forcing those under us to pay the ultimate price was to get so strong that even an entire Empire stood no chance against us.”

  “Yeah,” Keilan sighed. “I understand that all too well.”

  “You speak from experience. Did you avenge your sister?”

  “Damien did.”

  “And?”

  “We failed. We weren't strong enough.”

  There was silence again as Sareina drew her knees closer to her chest, hee voice frail as she spoke. “I can't lose him, Keilan. Mother, Tassen, and… and now Father. I don't think I could survive it.”

  Sareina looked so close to tears, her eyes wet and expression like cracked glass. Just looking at her, he felt his heart laden with weight, a weight he knew he couldn't carry. So he drew her hands into his, cupping them.

  “You will. Your father will come out of this alive.”

  Maybe it was desperation, but she looked at him with hope. “You're sure?”

  Keilan fought against the need to grimace. He let out as much reassuring smile as he could. “I'm sure.”