"So Verdan was attacked by the knights as well?" the Episkopiate asked.

  They had made it back to the main temple of the Aetheric Order without encountering any other guards or knights. Hamond had to admit, the temple had been very impressive to behold from the outside, and the inner chambers were even more so with their ornate stone carvings depicting Aether in detail. The Order had clearly paid very for the work some skilled artisans.

  Going by Nela staring at them, she was even more fascinated by them than he was. Hamond suspected she probably would not mind getting to spend the better part of a day looking over each one. Such a pity. They had more important matters to deal with right now.

  "I am not certain I would call it serendipity that we were there to witness it," Edeline said, "We would have left sooner, except we were still recovering from our own ordeal there."

  "Can't exactly fight battles when you were drugged the night before," Nela commented, pulling herself away from the carved relief she'd been focusing on.

  "We were forced to flee the town, and it was destroyed." Myron clenched one fist. "We were at least able to get some of the survivors to Faehaven."

  "They really did fall that low, then." The Episkopiate said, looking down at the tiled floor of the temple. "I had hoped some of them could yet have been redeemed, but turning on the Hyarchian people is too far. When we already have a terrible enemy on our borders, the last thing we need is a fight among ourselves."

  "Well, the knights won't be picking any more fights," Nela said, "Lord Kelshir, however, might."

  "Indeed. He was the one who ordered my death. Lord Kelshir visited my cell himself to tell me of what would happen, and why." Lifting his gaze, the Episkopiate looked directly at Anthyla. This had something to do with her, Hamond realized.

  "Bold of him," Edeline said, "He must think highly of His Majesty's favor, to risk angering supporters of the Order."

  "It would not be the first time that this kingdom saw an Episkopiate hang."

  "As in, the one before you or something?" Nela's question followed Hamond's own thoughts.

  "Among others," the older priest answered, "To explain, there was a time when instead of a single Episkopiate, the Aetheric Order had an Episkopiatal Council. A hex of men, who convened to make decisions and issue new doctrines."

  "This was before the Spellking's rise, correct?" Edeline asked.

  "Of course. This has been the tradition of our order for many years. However, it was a different tradition we had long held, one of belief, that brought us to this point. The great cycle of decay and renewal is a core tenet of the Aetheric Order. Nothing is eternal. Not us, not the kingdoms we build, and not even the world we live in. As each of these die, they are replaced by new and different things."

  "Some of the Order believed that the Spellking was part of this cycle, didn't they?" Thinking back to his upbringing in the Spellking's court, Hamond could see how many could come to believe in this as well. Promises of a better future for thaumaturges, which paled compared to the misery that followed.

  A misery his own father's spells had helped to shape.

  "Indeed they did." The Episkopiate gave Hamond a shrewd glance, making Hamond wonder how much the man knew. "I will not get into the details of the conflict that followed. All that matters is that it nearly tore the Order apart, and when it was done, there was only one Episkopiate left. My predecessor."

  "But didn't you say he ended up hanging too?" Nela pointed out.

  "He did, thanks to Perrinot." The Episkopiate stopped to catch his breath, then continued. "A scholar of the Order, known for his research into the old history of this land, going as far back as a kingdom that predated Hyarch itself. I know little about it myself. What I do know is Perrinot and his work was well regarded by everyone, including my predecessor. Until he was revealed as a thaumaturge who had been working in secret for the Spellking."

  "I vaguely remember when that happened," Anthyla spoke up, "My father was very angry, although at the time I could not say why. I...was not paying much heed to such matters when I was younger."

  "I doubt I would have either," Edeline said, trying to comfort Anthyla.

  "A question, if you don't mind." Hamond wanted to phrase this carefully. The possibility of all of this being connected to the events that brought them here to Kelshir wasn't something he could ignore. Not with Centurla's words from earlier repeating over and over in his head.

  "He worked as a scribe for the Aetheric Order in Kelshir for years..." the Elefae woman had said.

  Hamond needed to know the truth.

  "Did this scholar have any assistants working under him?"

  "Why yes, he did." The Episkopiate looked a little surprised. "I can guess your next question, so to answer it, they were all suspect as well. The response of Lord Kelshir and the knights was brutal yet understandable. Many of those assistants ended up hanging too, while the rest fled, as did Perrinot."

  All four of them exchanged glances. They all knew just where one of those assistants had ran to. It had all began here.

  "That fits with what we know," Hamond finally said, "We did promise Lady Kelshir here an explanation of why we're here, and it's probably best that Your Primacy hear our side of things too." He stepped aside, gesturing for Myron and Edeline to speak.

  Myron took in a deep breath. "We never did properly introduce ourselves, I suppose. I am Myron Hallowscroft."

  "And I am Edeline Hallowscroft." Edeline followed suit.

  "The children of Lord Hallowscroft?" the Episkopiate said, looking over at Myron. "I would not have expected this. You must have some reason for both of you to travel here unannounced."

  "We were trying to act before rumor of what had happened in Hallowscroft spread too far," Myron stated, "Since we believe word was already on its way here, we initially sought to keep our presence here quiet."

  "To explain more clearly, you had mentioned some of that scholar's assistants had fled Kelshir. We think one of those assistants was an Elefae going by the name of Kalvarel. He had traveled to Hallowscroft."

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  "That's not a name I recognize," the Episkopiate answered Edeline, frowning in deep thought. "But I do recall Perrinot working with some elves before, so I can't dispute this either."

  Edeline nodded, then continued. "Whatever Perrinot had been researching, Kalvarel had discovered something among it. I think he believed it to be some source of ancient spells, but given what we know of him, it's difficult to say what he wanted out of it. He plotted a way into gaining control of the town, all so he could find it."

  "Even I fell under his influence, due to a spell he used on me," Myron admitted. "If it had not been for my sister's efforts, I would still be there."

  "I had heard tales of the Spellking and his ilk using magic to coerce loyalty from people." The Episkopiate suddenly seemed quite old, although he was hardly what Hamond would consider elderly. "Having that confirmed...it leaves me feeling a bit ill."

  "While we can't say for sure, it's likely that Kalvarel got that spell from Perrinot, who also used it too." Hamond could understand all too well the priest's frustrations.

  "We were able to stop Kalvarel and his plan, after which we learned he had originally came from Kelshir." Edeline's tone grew harsh. "But we also learned something worse. Our father had been hiding a secret of his own...and Kalvarel's schemes now exposed that secret, putting us all in danger."

  "Danger?" echoed Anthyla.

  "I think I understand," the Episkopiate said, "I know who your father took under his protection years ago. Perhaps it would be best if you didn't speak of it further."

  "I have come to realize keeping secrets and hiding things has accomplished nothing for us," Edeline replied, giving Myron and Nela a determined look, "And I'd look quite the fool if I did not hold myself to the same standard."

  It was a fair point. Hamond would've preferred to follow the Episkopiate's advice, but concealing things wouldn't get them much further. At some point, he supposed, they would have to trust someone. Now was as good a time to start as any.

  "You called us the children of Lord Hallowscroft before, and that is true." Edeline took a deep breath. "However, what is also true is that we are children of different mothers. He is the son of Lady Hallowscroft. And I?"

  For a moment, there was not a sound in the room.

  "I am the daughter of Princess Splendora Pelagoin."

  Anthyla opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, color fading from her face. "The old royal family? But...how?" she said, finally finding her voice. "They were all dead!"

  "At this point, you ought to realize how easy it is to fake word of someone's death," Myron pointed out, indicating himself with a hand gesture.

  "Yes...but that means..." Without any warning, Anthyla dropped awkwardly down on one knee, bowing before Edeline.

  "Stop that," Edeline snapped at the noblewoman, "I am no princess. The crown and throne will never be mine. I would not seek them either."

  "That decision may yet be taken from you," the Episkopiate warned, closing his eyes. "Although they may yet be reluctant to admit as much, every king, be it of Hyarch or any other land, only holds power so long as there are those who recognize and honor their right to rule. If enough people see you as having that potential - or as a threat to the one they see as worthy - then your choices grow few."

  Edeline let out a shaky breath, her anger visibly fading. "All I want is to live life on my own terms. To pursue my own talents and desires."

  "So do many people, and that is where your troubles began. Our world is built one life at a time, all of us trying to create something strong enough to endure to be handed down to those yet to come. Far too few give any thought to if what they try to build will in turn help build other lives, or bring them ruin. The struggle to see beyond ourselves will always be there, affecting king and peasant alike until the end of all."

  Hamond could tell the Episkopiate's words stung at Edeline, far more than the incantation or effects of any spell. Stepping over, he took her hand, letting her know he was there for her. She glanced over, relief setting in with his presence.

  "I think you see why we left Hallowscroft. It was not safe to remain there, as much as our departure left some matters unresolved." Myron ran one hand through his hair. "We needed answers, and our one clue was that Kalvarel was originally from Kelshir. We traveled north, and...you know more or less what has happened since we reached Verdan."

  "We need access to the Order's library here," Hamond stated, "There has to be a record there of what Kalvarel was searching for. Accounts of old spells, older thaumaturges...something that ties in with what we have found."

  "Of course you can search our archives." The Episkopiate hesitated. "However...there is one other problem. When Perrinot fled, he only took a select few of his own papers. The rest of his writings and books were destroyed, burned by order of Lord Kelshir himself."

  "Shit," Nela muttered, loud enough that they all could hear her. Hamond had to admit, she'd held her tongue away from such language better than he'd expected.

  "Was it just books he had written, or were any other books caught up in it as well?" Edeline asked, straightening up. "If there are older records of it, we may be able to find them."

  "There could yet be," the Episkopiate said, "The problem is, I'm not the one who kept the libraries. To find that out, you'd have to..."

  "Go rescue the rest of the Order," Myron finished.

  "We could probably just search it ourselves," Nela said, "But it would be a lot easier if we had help looking, so...guess tomorrow is time to go break out more prisoners, isn't it?"

  "Why wait?" Edeline said, "If we act tonight, before they are prepared, then-"

  "You're tired," Hamond stated, "We're all tired. Also, I don't think we could convince Ugotlas again for his help."

  "Who is this Ugotlas?" the Episkopiate asked.

  "They would be talking about me." The sphinx appeared with the distinctive shimmer, sitting back a few paces away. "And you are correct. With how matters have played out, there is no need for unnecessary attempts at heroism."

  Anthyla sputtered, anger clouding her face.

  "A sphinx?" The Episkopiate stepped back and away from Ugotlas. "You...what would you gain by allying with such a...creature?"

  "It was a matter of convenience, since we had similar goals." Ugotlas smiled coldly. "Incidentally, I thought you all might wish to know that there are a pair of people skulking around in the hallway outside this room."

  Hamond's eyes widened. Had there been some surviving knights who had followed them here? How in Aether's name was that even possible?

  "Scatter," Myron hissed, drawing his sword. Hamond moved to the side, taking shelter behind a carved column. Edeline, to his mild surprise, followed him instead of staying out in the open. Nela guided the Episkopiate and Anthyla to behind the altar, then readied her crossbow and aimed it at the double doors that led into the temple's sanctum.

  Myron remained in the middle of the room, taking a fighting stance. Ugotlas, strangely enough, did not seem worried, remaining seated. In fact, he was...yawning? Alright, fair, two people probably were not a threat to him, but Hamond would think Ugotlas could at least show some sign of being wary.

  "Come out!" Myron called out, "We know you're there!"

  After what seemed like far too long a moment, one of the doors swung open slightly, and two figures slipped through. It was a man and a younger woman, both holding their hands out to show they were unarmed. The two of them wore ragged outfits, looking almost like...

  ...almost like the one the Episkopiate was wearing. Garb for prisoners.

  Myron had seen this too, because he immediately lowered his blade. "Who are you?" he asked, lowering his voice a bit.

  "Please don't hurt us," the woman said, "We were just-"

  "Claris!" Anthyla burst out from behind the altar, running towards the pair. "Claris!"

  "Anthyla?" was all the woman could manage before Lady Kelshir flung herself forward, embracing the other woman. Hamond just shook his head, letting out a sigh of relief.

  "So you're from the Aetheric Order then?" Myron turned to the man, since Claris was obviously not about to answer any questions for now. "Where are the others then?"

  "Yes. They're...they're outside. We came in to make sure it was safe. I...guess it is?" The man sounded still on edge, his gaze shifting back to Ugotlas.

  "I believe so." Myron stepped aside, letting the man see the Episkopiate, who Nela had helped to his feet.

  "Your...Your Primacy!" the man stuttered, astonished. "Just...who are you people?"

  "Travelers from the south," Myron said. Hamond wasn't about to argue that they needed to repeat the full story all over again. "More importantly, we'd heard you'd all been taken away by the city watch. How did you all escape then?"

  "We were...broken out of the gaol. It was, uh...I don't know if you'd believe me."

  Hamond sighed, annoyed that the man refused to speak plainly. "Given what we've seen, not much would surprise us. Who was it who helped you?"

  The man's face paled, and he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Finally, he spoke.

  "The Witch of Wrath."