The voice of the figure was one etched deep in Aurora's memory. It was almost as familiar to her as her own. It was the voice of a ghost now, yet the figure before her she was sure was flesh and bone.

"Clear the throne room," the Empress ordered.

Nurlan stood behind her close to the throne with his hand resting lightly on his sword. "Your Majesty?" he asked, uncomprehending.

"Everyone out except him," she motioned to the cloaked man. "You may stay, Nurlan, if it eases your mind. And see if someone can find Hanna."

The general quickly went to work. With the help of the other attending soldiers, every soul was removed from the room except the Empress, Nurlan and the mysterious figure. The man waited patiently, seemingly unconcerned with the flurry of activity his few words had caused.

Aurora took a deep breath. While the figure had allowed them to be alone, she was still slightly scared that he might disappear at any time. "What forgiveness do you seek?"

"I seek the forgiveness of the Empress, the Empire, and the whole world, but most of all…my mother." The figure dipped his head to punctuate his last point.

Her hand's gripped the throne in white-knuckled anticipation. "Only one person needs that kind of forgiveness, and he is dead. Reveal yourself. If this is a trick, my guard will finish you where you stand."

The figure ran his hand along the hem of his hood and pushed it back. The man's hair was so white that it could have been carved of porcelain, and there was lightning in his eyes, but everything else about the prince was exactly as it had been the last time she had seen him. His strong bearing and handsome features could belong to no one else.

"Alaron?" she breathed. "How?"

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*exactly one year prior*

As the beam of light and force flew from the trio, Alaron felt the life drain out of him completely before he lost consciousness. However, instead of finding himself in utter darkness, the light somehow remained even though he could no longer feel his body or open his eyes. All that exists was an infinite, impenetrable light.

"Am I dead?" He wondered, unable to actually speak the words since he had no mouth with which to speak.

"Twice within a week have you asked me this question. You were just given a new body. You should not be back here so soon…"

"Maker!" Alaron wanted to bow and fall to the ground, but as he had no body and there was no ground. He hoped the mental sentiment was enough.

"Were you so quick to ignore my warning?" the Maker asked calmly.

Not waiting for an answer, the scene from a few days before appeared before them. Alaron realized how much more panicked he looked the first time he visited. His face had been etched with worry. The prince watched closely as if he were attending a play, not witnessing a memory.

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The old Alaron who had drunk the healing water screamed in agony. "Am I dead? The water was supposed to heal me, not kill me!"

A voice comforted him. "Patience. Your body is being reformed and made new. I decided it would be better if you waited here instead of experiencing all the pain your body is feeling." The Maker spoke calmly, but somehow it only made Alaron more anxious.

"A new body? Wait! I don't deserve a new body. What about all those people out there who are dying or about to die from the war…the war I started?" The young man's brow was furrowed deeply.

"Did they drink the healing water?" The Maker asked. In a compassionate tone, he added, "Many decisions had led to this point, not just yours."

"Then I shall decide to save them," Alaron announced.

"You shall decide, hm?" There was a measured pause. "How does the Prince of Valiant think he can save them?"

The blond man was not sure. Even if he made it in time to surrender, it was unlikely that Cafer would stop his attack. The gnome would find a way to make them fight, probably using the wearer of Semblance Stone to lead the human troops. Alaron needed to fight fire with fire, or rather magic with…

"Magic! Magic will stop this. I know a spell that will take down the enemy." The boy had an idea forming in his head, but The Maker stopped him.

"Humans should not use magic, and using the spell you are mentioning at that magnitude will kill you before you can finish it." The Maker informed him.

Alaron started to pout, then his eyes hardened. "Then one of my magical allies can cast the spell!"

"No one creature is strong enough for what you require," the Maker easily dismissed his claim.

"What if they use a magical object to enhance their strength? Cafer told me the Fate's chain can be used to amplify power!" Alaron was unwilling to give up.

The Maker sighed. "Cafer has taught you many things that he should not. It will be his undoing." There was an anger in his tone that the boy had missed the first time. As he watched the playback, he could hear it clearly.

"But would it work?" The persistent prince, like a dog with a bone, would not let the matter drop.

"One necklace, with only one wearer will not be enough." The Maker told him honestly.

"How many Fate's chains would a creature need? Two? Three?" the boy pestered his Maker with questions. Watching the scene now, Alaron realized how patient his creator had been.

"You want to know what will happen if you try what you are suggesting? Watch." In Alaron's mind, he could see chains of gold, copper and pewter entwined. The spell worked, but it required three royal wearers, one of which was human. "Do not be so quick to throw your life away when you are just getting it back." The Maker warned.

"You cannot know that this is how it will happen!" Alaron challenged. "Brinn is much stronger than you think. I am sure with the chains, she can do it. I will prove you wrong."

The Maker sighed. "Our time is up, young prince. Your body is ready for you to return. Though I fear your strong-headed nature will bring you back to me far too soon."

"I won't be back anytime soon. You'll see!" Alaron had said confidently.

"One of us will see…" the Maker responded.

The memory faded from view and Alaron chuckled awkwardly, "Well, heh, I guess you were right."

"As the Maker, I always am. Do you really think a young prince would know more than the one who made him?" The Maker seemed slightly amused.

"I did not think about it that way. I should have listened. But I saved a lot of people!" The boy pointed out.

"You did," the Maker agreed, giving Alaron a warm feeling.

However the feeling did not last as he thought about all the lives he had ruined too. "That doesn't make up for everything I did. Even with a dozen lifetimes, I never get close to mending the damage I have caused."

"What would you do with a dozen lifetimes?" The Maker asked. Alaron gathered that the question was spoken to make him think.

The prince envisioned all the lives he would save, people he would feed and homes he would help build. "If given the chance, I would help others."

"A noble answer. If you were given this chance, would you listen to me this time? And listen to those I send to you?" The Maker asked seriously.

"Yes, Maker. But how can that happen?" Alaron's thoughts became less airy as he felt a mouth form and voice his words. Tingling, he could sense the rest of his body taking shape in the white void. "What is going on?"

"Omid brought your body to the Mystic Spires and placed it in the pool of healing waters. That is why you can feel it again." The Maker informed him. "If I call you to be a Guardian, will you protect humanity until your moment comes to return here for the third and final time?"

Alaron's eyes opened wide. He was getting a second chance? "I will," Alaron promised. He placed his hand on his newly materialized chest.

"Then I call you, Alaron, Prince of Valiant, to be a Guardian. Protect humanity, and keep peace." The Maker breathed on the young man, filling him with life.

"Thank you," Alaron said, bowing as the light around him faded.

His body jerked, and the prince found himself in an icy cold pond attached to a dizzyingly tall waterfall. Dripping, he sat up, trying to discern his location.

Justum reached out his hand from beside the water and helped the boy stand. "I did not think you would pass the test. I guess I was wrong." His face held a slight frown and a hint of confusion.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Alaron answered, not knowing to whom he was speaking.

"The Maker is more generous than I am. However I will do as he beckoned me." Justum held out a vial of glowing light to Alaron. "Drink up, Guardian. There is much to do."

Alaron took the vial from his hand. "Drink all of it?"

"A little will do. It is probably all you will be able to manage." The Fate raised one eyebrow and smirked.

The young man paused as he was removing the cork. "Why? Will it hurt?"

Justum nodded slightly. "I certainly hope so."

It did.