"Is that all?" Reigan calmly inquired Joran after he had finished recounting everything he had discovered.

Joran thought for a moment, before he nodded grimly, "Realm Monarch, it is best that we consider the Bloodhound Clan compromised, and proceed to weed them out of our military—"

"That is all, Joker."

"… What?"

Reigan's tired eyes looked at Joran, then back at the commander, who he dismissed with a wave. A curt bow, a glance to Joran and Dorgan departed from the Hall. Reigan then waved off all of the guards, who were shocked and sluggishly responded to the order.

With just the two of them now in the Hall, Reigan sighed deeply, "I understand your concern, and I agree that we must deal with the traitors. However, I don't think you realize what I had said when you first entered. The battle in Inven nearly levelled the forest."

Joran's eyes went wide-eyed, and stammered out, "I-… Inven is gone?"

"No, not entirely. But the open conflict that we are now engaged in with the Beasts there may finish it. We had barely repelled them from reaching the Metropolis walls. My point being Joran, dealing with the Bloodhound Clan may not be the most urgent priority right now. Figuring out where to shore our defenses at, is."

"So that's it then? We just let them slowly cut our throat?" Joran scoffed.

Reigan furrowed his brows, not angered but not keen on Joran's frustration either, "The Bloodhounds aren't openly revolting, and I doubt they'd start tonight. Now calm down, and let's get some rest. We will need it to figure out if they will continue to pile on the offense in Inven or somewhere else."

Joran slumped unconsciously, pondering on the Realm Monarch's words. Where would they strike next?

They had appeared almost everywhere, the reports that he saw in the Precinct Bunker proved that much. However the heavy surges in conflict has only been in the Inven Forest, the Basilisk breach under Adpol, and…

That was when his eyes went wide-eyed in realization as Joran looked back up to Reigan, "We need to defend Sentinalus!"

With a cocked eyebrow, Reigan clearly looked skeptical, "Why would the bastion of our military need to be fortified?"

Joran began to pace back and forth, as he has started to do when he thinks aloud, "The Basilisk was all that would be needed to wreak havoc within an Inner City. Just one behemoth Beast and it would be enough. Especially since it wasn't a coincidence it surfaced after reinforcements were called to Inven. My being there was fortunate, even if I only helped a little. At the same time, we've been investigating Inven Forest, and more or less anticipated that they would attack there, so their assault was substantial, enough to raze the forest... The only other surge of activity has been the trading routes between the Metropolis and the Borderlands. Which means…"

Reigan eyes widened in realization, "We never really have had a firm grasp on their numbers in the Beyond. Our forays and reconnaissance were always stifled into the immediate areas they are teleported to. If they truly mean to overcome the bastion of the cities, they will likely bring to bear whatever they haven't shown.

"The strain placed on us with the conflict in Inven Forest is likely serving to try to weaken the bastion as much as possible. It's obvious that it worked well enough with the Basilisk. If they could catch Sentinalus off guard, and remove the largest presence of our military in one swoop…"

Joran nodded grimly, and pressed on the reason he had disturbed the Realm Monarch, "Reigan… We need to do something about Heca."

Reigan raised a hand to stop Joran's imploring, "We will. Like I said, they've been consorting with the Beasts for a lot longer than just one night. We can survive their ignominious actions for a few more. If we turned on them now when the Beasts are at the walls of the Metropolis, we may as well yield to them now. For now, we need to hold the line in Inven while we prepare for their attack in Sentinalus. I'll have you go there with Drekor."

Joran staggered backwards for a moment, surprised at the direct order, "R-realm Monarch?"

For the first time tonight, Reigan smiled warmly, albeit very faintly, "We are already strained, with an enemy at our gates, and an enemy behind us. I suspected the Bloodhound Clan was up to no good; but I could never prove it. To think they were outright abetting the Beasts, though… You did well in uncovering the underground portal with the goblins. I'd prefer to keep these revelations limited to the people who know now, for the time being. Go and alert Sentinalus. You and Drekor will operate in my stead while I deal with Inven."

Keeping this betrayal secretive was likely the best course of action. To prevent trust being lost between soldiers and civilians, and to avoid unrest from occurring, it was the necessary action. To keep the Bloodhounds from sniffing out that they knew about them made it the only course of action to take, Joran deliberated to himself.

"… I understand," Joran closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I'll fetch for Drekor and we'll be on our way," Reigan fell silent, with a perplexed expression on his face, which worried Joran, "… Is something wrong?"

"… It's the middle of the night, Joker. Get some rest."

Joran shook his head astutely, "With all due respect, Reigan, time is not with us. The sooner we can get there, the sooner we can make word with the commanders there to prepare."

"…You've changed a lot, haven't you Joran?"

Joran closed his eyes as he looked at Reigan's warm eyes, turning away from him slowly, "… I've done things that I won't ever forget, and I've seen things that I can't ever forget."

"Remember, Joker."

"…?"

"Remember to believe in yourself."

"… Yeah, right," Joran shook his head, and cut off Reigan before he could say anything else, "I'm going to fetch for Drekor, we can sleep on the way to Sentinalus, it's not like it's close anyways."

Reigan fell silent, his face filled with a hue of concern that Joran didn't see as he walked solemnly out of the Throne Hall. He didn't have time to process what's happened tonight, but he knew that he had to keep moving forward. To prevent more people from dying. After a few minutes, he finally got to Drekor's chambers, rapping on the door until a familiar face appeared. A very annoyed, and tired face. Joran sighed lamentedly and looked at Drekor, his black hair greatly disheveled, his eyes drooping from tiredness.

Drekor took a second to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't just seeing Joran out of his imagination, then frowned, "… Can this not wait until tomorrow?"

Joran filled him in on the situation, the Basilisk, the Bloodhounds, Joran killing the two Hecas and the room of goblins, and the discussion him and Drekor's father had. Each piece of news sobering Drekor up and at the same time making him more grim.

"So off to Sentinalus, huh?" Drekor took in a deep breath, and nodded to himself as he went back into his room to straighten himself out, and Joran followed him in.

Having only been in here a few times, Joran could find many similarities to his own room, although the bed was distinctly smaller, probably a preference for Drekor. Watching his friend tidy up his sheets and grab clothes to change into in the bathroom, he began to somberly reminisce.

"You know… I never wanted any of this."

Drekor gave the best devilish smile he could with how tired he was before resuming to the bathroom, "Yeah, yeah, you wanted to just have a simple life, wallow in deep depression for the rest of your days, and maybe find some shallow peace."

"… Harsh, man."

Drekor laughed, "For as much as you perplexed me when we first met, it was pretty clear to me that you weren't okay. Not right in the head, that's for sure."

"Screw you, dude. Your pompous ass sauntered over to me and tried to lecture me on how to live my life."

"And that's why I stayed."

At this Joran frowned, never having stopped to think why Drekor actually stuck around, and that certainly wasn't a possible reason, "You… wanted me to just, keep insulting your pride?"

"Pfft, no. Who would want that? No it was that even with all that pain you carried, you still knew exactly what you wanted. You didn't care what anyone else had to say, didn't care what anyone else thought of you. You had a plan and you stuck through it all the way through our time in the Central Districts… In our valley."

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"… So you wanted to vicariously live through that?"

Again he laughed, now coming out of the bathroom, and looking at his friend with heartfelt sincerity, "A little bit, if I want to be honest. Being the Crown Prince, it's hard to live as you want. But here you were, not caring at all about such tiring things. To you, they were trivial… They still are. You might have changed your course, but you will never fool me into believing you enjoy the Assembly."

With a light punch to the shoulder, Joran smirked, "And if you did fall for that, I'd have to make sure to convince you otherwise. But you have one thing wrong."

"What's that?"

"I care about what you think of me. I care about those around me I trust and will confide in me, and I care about what they think of me. You father, you, Hando, Callahan, and others now. I saw in you someone who was trapped by bindings not of your own makings. The superficial expectations and standards of some prestigious person. I didn't know what you were, and I didn't care. But when you reached out and finally tried to bridge the gap between us, I realized I wanted to know who you were. It's the same with Hando. He never once tried to recall me back to Class after the first time. And that's how it should be. People can only be expected to do what they want."

Drekor was taken aback, but collected himself, and grabbed Joran's shoulder softly, his eyes reciprocating his friendly smile, "You know, ever since that day where we sat under the 'warm sun', I've looked up to you."

".. To me?"

"I'm not bullshitting you," the duo guffawed, "No, I'm serious. I knew you had a plan, and what you wanted to do. But I had the gut feeling that there was something in store for you. Something amazing. Something worthy of a hero like you."

"… I'm not a hero, Drekor."

Drekor shook his head, "I'm not expecting you to think you are. I mean, the entire realm is called the Hero Realm. But I heard what happened in the Exam from Hando. There are few people I could count on my hands I'd trust my life with. And you're one of them. And the only reason you'd go to such lengths for me is because you're you, Joran."

"I… Drekor, I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you, or anyone I care about being hurt because of me. If Eliza was hurt because of me I…"

"You can't bear the thought of anyone getting hurt. You just shielded yourself from people because of assholes like Jeremiah, and arguably even me for a while. Anyone that would stand to only abuse not just you, but others as well. Those 'who would uphold a world that shames one for even being born weak'."

"… You would still remember that," Joran groaned and buried his face in one of his hands.

Drekor gripped Joran's shoulder harder, his eyes hardening, "I already know you've decided to give people another chance. You wouldn't be here now in the middle of the night looking to go to Sentinalus so soon if you didn't. Only heroes would do that, you know."

"So what if I am? You're coming with me, we had soldiers go tonight and put their lives at stake to fend off the Beasts in Inven. Some and more that won't come back. Leaders that have stayed their post through the chaos. They're more heroic than I am."

Drekor patted Joran's shoulder and started walking out when he smiled to himself, "They're bearing the responsibility of the Cities—no, the entire Realm on their back. You willingly stepped forward. No one has told you to do anything so far, just asked, and you've charged in every time. True, at first you were apprehensive, but now… I think you're underselling yourself."

With that, Drekor walked down the hallway, leaving Joran to his own thoughts. How can Drekor think so highly of him? He only wanted to spend his days in peace, left alone from everyone else, Joran thought to himself.

Beginning to follow after Drekor, he could only steep through his muddled thoughts, sudden memories of the Bloodhounds he killed at his own hands flashing through as he wandered the dimly lit hallways.

I'm not a hero…

Joran met up with Drekor, and the duo filed into a car that was being driven by an Idaten attendant, and they sped their way towards Sentinalus. Drekor immediately fell asleep once they began the journey. Admittedly, Joran felt weight behind his eyes as he succumbed to sleep as the skyline descended into the gradual residential districts of Korhal.

His mind submerged itself, and he could feel the all too familiar encasing of the turquoise water that surrounded him. Opening(Closing) his eyes, the sunlight that seemed alien to him now filtering through the water, the rays of light drifting into the abyss that he had no doubt he would descend into again.

However, something was different. Indescribable yet palpable. It was only mere moments of this sensation that Joran realized he was swimming. His arms oscillating within the water, he could feel the currents around him swish.

And then suddenly he felt the need for air ring alarms in his mind as he surged to the surface, and for the first time, breaking it. Gasping for air, he had to slam his eyes shut from the arbitrarily intense sunlight blasting into his face, and he had to wipe his face of the warm water he had unexpectedly begun to miss already. But the air around him was also warm, almost humid. Sucking it in now, he could smell lush vegetation, practically smelling the green that he had yet to see. Opening his eyes, he squinted immediately, adjusting slowly to the glaring afternoon sunlight. In what little he could start to see; he could make out the tall canopy of trees that surrounded him with dense foliage that formed almost a solid wall around the lakeshores.

And the lake he was apparently in, it was undoubtably turquoise in color, but it was eerily still save for his thrashing to stay afloat. Aside from his gasps, now from the adrenaline that suddenly coursed through him more than for air, it was unsettling how quiet it was. No bird calls, no wind seemed to rustle the leaves of the wall around him. Only himself, the pure white sand of the shores, and a lone island with a stone formation that jutted out of it.

It wasn't large, from where Joran could see it at least. And save for that lone formation, everything that surrounded him seemed almost picturesque.

Almost perfect tranquility…

Shaking his head, Joran felt compelled to swim towards the island, and so he obeyed, making gentle strokes towards it, almost reverently, as to not disturb the still waters any more than he had already.

Reaching the island, he found a foothold and began to walk up the shore. The island itself was completely white sand, the grit warm from the sun, yet like a gentle caress underneath his feet. He dug one of his foot into the sand subconsciously, feeling it smoothly cover it. A serene calm almost washed over him completely, but still he had to investigate the stones.

Now that he was closer, he could see that it was flat and low lying, a square room with perfect dimensions, centered on the island perfectly.

Slowly shuffling around the walls, his feet now buried in the sand, his every step heavier than the last. But still he walked, until he walked around one wall to see an opening, perfectly carved out of the stone, no doubt a doorway without a door. Getting closer, he could peer inside the empty doorway, seeing that the interior was almost completely empty, except how completely smoothed the stone was, and what seemed to be a bed hewn of straws. Not quite as perfect as the rest of the room or the island, or the perfectly annular lake and shores, but close.

Joran sighed deeply, his mind relaxed now, and ambled into the center of the room, studying nothing in particular, everything at once. It was then that he realized there was no roof, and took in the deep azure sky, like he once did maybe when he was younger.

And in some corner of his mind, he could feel his anguish dissipate like fog in the morning sunlight. But then he could feel the same voice that reached to him in all of these times of being in this strange place.

The ethereal voice, a warm, soft alto emanated from behind him, no longer in his mind, "This time you even intrude on my sanctuary."

Joran frowned, but there was no intense emotions, only a dulled annoyance that flitted within him, "You're the one that brought me here."

"The first time, maybe. I was curious to see who you were. Every other time since then, you've brought yourself here. And each time, you've strengthened your own connection to this place."

Joran's mind was muddled with the still calmness of serenity, but he trudged through his inner machinations, "How am I bringing myself to this place? Who… are you?"

Finally, Joran turned around slowly, his eyes opening lazily, to turn to the doorway where he saw a very distinct figure in front of him. The disembodied voice he had come to be familiar with now joined with an extraordinarily feminine figure. Their entire body was naked, and although his better judgement would have immediately turned his view away, he didn't in his current strange state, realizing they were covered in brownish red scales, blue and white feathers dotting their torso like a bird, up until their neck, where the scales resumed to the lower half of their face. Their then dark and tanned skin complemented their black eyebrows and hair that flowed down to her back. Their eyes were closed in this instance, but Joran could see a very obvious purple marking that started from their inner eye down in curves near their scales.

Drinking in the sight, Joran felt unsettled only for a moment, taking in a deep breath, as they spoke again, without moving their lips, "I already told you. I'm you."

Sluggishly, Joran shook his head, "No. I'm me."

A gentle, faint smile formed on their unmoving mouth, "Maybe so, but in an ageless time, eons ago, I was once you."

"… I don't understand."

At this, they opened their eyes, a myriad of stars formed in a kaleidoscopic manner that washed over their pupils, and with a few blinks, a soft giggle came out, "You don't need to, not yet."

A reprieve of silence, and the figure before Joran walked closer, not directly to Joran, but to the side of the room, gazing leisurely over Joran, concern softly filling their eyes, "You're playing your role well."

"My role?"

"As the shepherd, the Joker. As the hero of heroes."

Despite the peace Joran seemed submerged in, he uncomfortably shifted in himself, "… I'm not a hero."

At this, the woman frowned, discontent with Joran's disapproval, "Oh, my dear Joran… Is it too much?"

"… I don't know if I can keep going," Joran felt a tear drip down his cheek, a rising tide of turmoil pushing against the calm.

"Oh dear, you've been pushing yourself so hard. Stay here. I can't bear to see you like this."

The woman gingerly grabbed Joran's hand, and pulled him to the straw bed, where she sat in an upright kneeling position, and pulled Joran down to her, to rest his head on her lap. Despite the scales, Joran suddenly felt the turmoil melt away, and a sea of calm surge over him unlike what he'd felt up to then. He could feel his own worries and doubts begin to dissolve, only certainty in the woman's embrace.

Beginning to pat Joran's head, the woman hummed lightly, "My good Joran. I've only seen you so few times, but I feel as if I've known for so long. You feel this way, don't you?"

A gentle nod.

"I'm glad you keep coming back. This sanctuary of mine is lonesome, even with the company I have. But especially now, it's been quite empty recently. Will you keep me company?"

Another gentle nod. Joran could feel his subconscious lazily engorge in this peace. His own conscious desiring nothing more than to rest.

"Good, wonderful. We can spend another eternity together after I deal with the Hero Realm."

A shatter.

Joran's entire mind shattered in almost an instant. The tranquility of this lake seemed foreign in but a mere instant. At the same time, it'd felt like an eternity that he'd known it was foreign. That it was hostile. The peace he was submerged in, now felt like a prison, as he began to surface from the beautiful dream he had found himself in.

Eyes wide open, he looked up at the still ever gentle face of the woman he had allowed in so easily. Familiar, and loving, yet so horrifying with the reality of the world.

Even so, Joran could only slowly get up from the woman's embrace, and as best he could, calmly asked again, "But who are you really?"

The woman frowned, almost disappointed, "You really want to know, don't you?"

A stern nod.

They sighed, "I am the First Beast. The One who leads the Beasts and keeps balance to these two Realms of the world. I am the Siren."