Recovery was a familiar passtime, an adventuring lifestyle was rife with moments of downtime for the sake of keeping healthy. And yet, no story ever spoke of such moments for a reason.

Plain and simple, it was very boring and made worse by the knot of impatience that had nestled its way into my heart over the last week. My son had scant time for me except for in the evenings, leaving me often alone with my personal attendant, Macy Booker.

"I'm not used to you being awake yet," Macy spoke as she came into my room without knocking, bringing in with her a platter of fruits and meat that smelled heavenly.

I nodded, doing some final stretches as I felt the medicine in my system bolstering my Vitae. It was a new medicine, not one I'd ever heard of before, but it was effective and certainly expensive.

"I suppose neither am I." I had not just made efforts to recover physically, but also mentally. It was difficult, however. It had been difficult to sleep, a fear gripping me every time I almost found rest. No matter my resolve, there was no ease in comforting that terror.

Macy put down the platter on a small table for me, before she seemed to register what I had said, "hm?"

"Hm?" I echoed back, unsure of what she was questioning.

Macy blinked, before she paled as the tips of her hair went a familiar white once again, "I, uh, I said that out loud?"

"Well, did you," I almost struggled to even respond to the bundle of nerves that Macy had become, "not mean to?"

She stood frozen and I could see her reaccessing her every movement, before I chuckled at her misplaced fear, making her jump slightly, nervously giggling along with me.

"Macy, calm yourself, you didn't say anything wrong." Of course, Macy was one of the few who spoke candidly to me within these halls. The last thing I wanted was to taint her honesty with anxiety.

Her fingers weaved together nervously as she nodded, swallowing hard as her hair shifted back, "I, yeah, sorry. I'm just really used to speaking my mind here."

"You still can," I assured her. I'd never faulted Doh for speaking her mind, perhaps in part from knowing the futility of admonishing her for such a thing, and would give the same benefit to her daughter.

Macy nodded hesitantly, her hair slowly returning to normal, before she began to arrange everything for my meal. Dalton had insisted I take my meals in my room, to keep the rumors of my awakening to a minimum.

In fact, solitude had been a constant plague on my return.

"I should be joined for lunch by Caitlyn, yes?" It had been a week since our reunion in the garden and she had only just recently been granted an audience with me, another of Dalton's insistences.

Macy nodded, putting down the second platter, obviously meant for my incoming companion, "Uh, yes, absolutely. One of the servants just mentioned seeing High Lord Tribus of Alwur."

Good, that was good. It was difficult to learn about how much the world changed from the books that Macy had brought to me, although I'd gotten some interesting information. Apparently, there had been a stirring of civil war after Shawn's death, prompting a lot of maneuvers from the Queen.

Including the announcement of Dalton Velbrun, Lydia's brother, as the Warlock King and the utter political incineration that had followed suit. They had even lost some of their land. I mourned the broken promise made to Lydia, but it had stitched the fractured empire back together.

Furthermore, my awakening had only come a few months after the official crowning of King Winfred Certimov-Hanchett, who had finally come of age. Tracy had swiftly abdicated the throne for her son's benefit.

So much had changed, a lot that I was still digesting, but I pushed such thoughts aside as a knock came at the door, Macy taking a deep breath as she went to answer.

I would finally get to talk to Caitlyn.

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"And ever since, Julian has been pining after the baker's daughter like she doesn't have plenty of other better choices," Caitlyn giggled, currently in her adult form. She seemed far less stressed than she had a week ago, but her Vitae was far less composed.

I pushed my cleaned plate to the side, wiping my mouth with a bit of cloth to wipe the last trace of sauce away, "I missed these conversations."

Caitlyn stilled and her thin facade faltered as she nodded solemnly. We sat in silence for a moment, the only sound being the rustling of cloth and clattering of ceramic as Macy cleaned up the table for us.

"There's so much to talk about, Rakta," Caitlyn said. "About Gelvurt, Alwur, the state of the border…and your son. I don't even know where to begin."

I swallowed back the protectiveness that stirred at the idea of her speaking of my son, but I had been curious about such things myself. How does one even begin to learn about 8 years of change?

"How is the academy?" Despite everything, I felt that learning that would be the quickest way to get to the larger picture.

Caitlyn sighed, looking away. "It's still very popular and a great benefit to our lands. Education, I'd say, is something that House Tribus is most known for."

It sounded very rote and practiced, tinged with a bittersweetness that curdled the warm memories of getting the academy together so many years ago for the sake of my children.

"What happened?" Perhaps I should not have declined the wine that Macy had offered.

"Like I said, it's very popular," Caitlyn said again, but continued, "Dalton has done a lot to expand the academy, even making smaller branch academies in Alwur and Niers, but…"

For a moment, she was at the edge of rage. Her Vitae was powerful and free, which made it easy to feel the swirling maelstrom it was at risk of becoming.

"I should have seen it coming," she squeezed her fist hard. "Of course it's more convenient for families of our lands to go to these branch academies, I have no doubt of that, but that left vacancies here. Vacancies that Dalton auctioned off to the nobles of other Houses."

Macy was quiet in the corner of the room, watching on with a worried expression as Caitlyn took a drink of her own glass of wine.

"And then, funding became an issue when Queen Certimov's support dwindled. Bigger things on her plate than the academy after her husband died," she muttered the last bit before sobering up. "Dalton began footing the cost himself, but the branch academies started to falter. Our funding goes straight to the Tribus Academy, but it's the Tribus Education Council that decides the budget and where the money goes."

I understood quite clearly the venom that laced the title of this council as it left her lips. This council was not doing well to give these branch academies the support they required and, if I understood correctly, something must be preventing Caitlyn and Jorge from supporting their branches directly.

"They even dismissed teachers deemed unworthy of their position," she whispered, as if at the end of her wits on the subject. "Marge was one of the first to go."

My stomach twisted at the news at the alchemist's dismissal. I remembered her opening up to the students, seeing them all as the children she had lost that night when I first arrived in Gelvurt.

"I suppose Dalton is not unaware of this," I offered diplomatically, but it felt dry leaving my lips. It was hard to imagine such a thing slipping by his attention. Rather, I imagined that he implicitly supported much of what had occurred.

Caitlyn sniffed, almost sneering at my son's name. "Who do you think formed the council? Who do you think puppets them around? Gelvurt is the heart of House Tribus and Dalton decides where the blood flows."

"These failing branches from the Tribus Academy," I began, still digesting the delicacy of this subject, "can the families not return to Gelvurt?"

"Absolutely," Caitlyn frowned. "Of course, there's a fee."

"A fee." I wrapped my head around the idea of having to pay to attend the academy. The original idea had been to keep the academy cost-free, to keep its doors open to all who wished to attend.

"Not for the people of Gelvurt, of course," Caitlyn grinned sardonically, glancing over at Macy, before turning back to me. "And the ones who stayed at the main academy when the branches were built, oh, they've been grandfathered in, but those who left? Hoping to get a similar experience at their home? There's a relocation fee, not one that commonfolk can afford."

It painted a grim picture. Tribus Academy was seemingly of higher quality than I could even imagine, but it was now simply bait for those beyond Gelvurt, to draw them in and exploit their interest.

"I'll speak to him about this," I said, knowing how hard Caitlyn must be fighting for her people. Jorge, I'm sure, was suffering under this as well. They were the roots of the academy, working with me to get it running, and to have it be taken from their hands by my own son…

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Caitlyn nodded, but I felt her appreciation was tinged in doubt. Doubt that I could change my son's mind? Doubt that I could ever side against my own son? I wouldn't disparage her lack of faith either way.

"I hope you do, Rakta," she finally said. "Jorge and I are High Lords, just like him, but Dalton has done more in the last 8 years than I could do in my whole lifetime. He is the only reason House Tribus survived, no, thrived in your absence. Alwur and Niers pale in comparison to Gelvurt now, we just don't have…we can't do what he's done."

For as long as I had known her, Caitlyn was a proud woman who cared for her people and the good of her lands far more than the average noble. And yet, that pride fell to the wayside now.

Perhaps it was the waning hours and her curse that made her seem older, but in this moment, I saw the weight of the last 8 years in her wrinkled eyes and her weathered fingers. How did she feel, I wondered, about the success of my son who, by all accounts, had been unceremoniously thrown into his position?

"My son," I said, "has always had the capability of doing great things. I'm sorry that he hasn't spared thought for Alwur and Niers. Our lands have always been stronger together, but Gelvurt should not be claiming a seat at the top by standing on the bloody shoulders of its siblings."

Macy was fidgeting as Caitlyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes, glancing at the shapeshifting maid again, before meeting my gaze. "That's good. I'm glad you're back, Rakta."

"I am too." I was finally starting to learn more about my son, but there was so much more to know. How many stories had I missed? "I want to know about the timber situation in Alwur."

Neither Caitlyn nor Macy looked pleased as they registered my request.

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I had asked Overseer for the gift of understanding, to know my children, but it had yet to reveal its inner workings to me as I arrived at Dalton's office hours later, documents in hand. They were wrinkled and folded, having lost their crispness in the time I spent going over every inch of copy.

I went to knock, but the door opened before my knuckle met the wood. Macy bit her lip as she met my gaze briefly, before she ducked her head and whispered an apology as she left Dalton's office. She hurried down the hallway without another word before sharply turning down the first hallway she came across.

"Father," Dalton called from his office, "I think we have a lot to talk about."

Walking in, I inspected the room, remembering faintly when it was where I did my own similar work, but as opposed to the notion of a room getting messier over the years, more full of history, Dalton's office was empty. Only a few quaint reminders that someone worked here, a portrait or two and a large bookshelf and a small side table with a glass decanter of wine.

And in the middle of all of it, a large wooden desk, embroidered by a bronzed gold colored metal that shimmered with Mana. My son, sitting behind the desk, had his eyes on the document before him, but his attention on me.

"Please sit," Dalton motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. I was sure that Macy had just stood up from it moments before, the furniture half-askew.

Pulling the chair up and sitting down, I wondered if the gift of understanding was an understated one, one that would benefit me in the act of learning over time, rather than great revelation. Perhaps, I considered, that was for the best. Prophetic insight often lacked any kind of obvious nuance.

And yet, it would be nice to know what was going on behind my son's cold, emerald eyes. Once again, his body language was erased, his posture was cold and mechanical, and there was no insight to garner from his gaze.

And yet, from this cold facade, I could make out one thing for certain. Dalton was expecting an enemy, some kind of plot or scheme. If Macy had told him all of what Caitlyn and I had discussed, then perhaps he had reason to believe I was here to trick him or manipulate him.

Was that what I was here to do? There should be no politics between family and yet here I was with clear opposition to my son and his pressure on Alwur. And yet, in my heart, I knew…

"I always knew this was going to happen," I said, reclining back into my chair, feeling the weight of age. "An effective plan, efficient in every corner, but…"

Dalton frowned, making no other movements.

"The spirit of the promise is being held hostage for a few extra acres worth of lumber," I said, my eyes gliding lightly over the inked parchment.

It was a deal with the forest near one of Alwur's newest lumber camps, full of dryads and nymphs. Forest monsters that were generally peaceful unless disturbed, but years ago, they had well and truly been disturbed by the growing timber requirements from Alwur.

"They seemed perfectly happy with the deal when it benefited them. The Alwur Nature Preservation Agreement saved lives and profits while giving the forest denizens safety in land perfectly suited for them." Dalton said. "However, I made it very clear in the agreement that a time may come where those protections would need to be moved. Alwur must meet their deadline, Father."

I'd heard about this deadline in much detail. Caitlyn had made it very clear that this deadline was unlike any other, with little time to properly acquire the needed materials from Alwur's exhausted lands.

"House Taine may need new ships, but this agreement speaks of necessity," I rubbed my head, trying to figure out my son's labyrinthian logic. "I see no necessity other than the expedient deadline, which, from my understanding, you accepted without delay. Why is this sacrifice necessary beyond preference?"

That was the heart of the issue. Perhaps in a time of crisis, this would all be reasonable, but there was no crisis that I knew of, nor was there one that Caitlyn or Macy could provide for me.

"House Taine's offer is extraordinarily profitable, but they were adamant about the timeline." For the first time during this conversation, Dalton seemed bothered. "I made the deal, however, because right now it is vitally important for Gelvurt to boast financial excellence."

For a moment, I was confused at such importance, before I remembered one of the first things I ever learned about after waking up.

"This is about the Donns of Neve," I said.

Dalton closed his eyes and nodded, "I have a representative arriving near the deadline to take the final steps for my membership, something that will bring influence and power to our city that has only ever been witnessed in the capitals of great nations."

There was that zeal again, that desire to make Gelvurt greater and greater every day. I wondered if the city would ever shine bright enough for him.

"That is why it's necessary," Dalton finished. "This support could affirm House Tribus as a player in the empire without question. Even the king could not question our legitimacy."

I doubted that he ever would, our position lacking legitimacy or not. It was his father that had given us this land and our titles, but…one issue remained.

"Perhaps this truly is necessary, Dalton," I nodded, looking at the agreement in my hand. "If it truly is so important, what about your…other capabilities?"

His ability, given to him by Overseer just as all my childrens' abilities had been, was the ability to buy and spend from an esoteric shop that only he could perceive. Years ago, he had bought the knowledge of a surgeon, rare and exotic poisons, and that had only felt like that tip of the iceberg.

Dalton was quiet for a moment, matching my gaze with his own, before turning his head to the side, "It is Alwur's responsibility to meet the quota for the deadline. Why would I hurt my personal profits to aid them in their lands' issues?"

"Because they are our allies? Their people are kin to our people? Why must we set the wrath of the forest on Alwur just so Gelvurt can prosper? Will we aid them with the trouble we pressure them to bring upon themselves?" I felt an anger stirring in my chest, knowing that this was wrong. I had made plenty of deals in my time, but none had cost the lives and safety of my people. "Why do you push them and yet give them no aid?"

There was silence before Dalton stood up out of his chair, I instinctively followed suit, before he went over to his decanter of wine and silently poured himself a glass.

"Because, Father," he took a sip, "the other High Lords of House Tribus, the ones you remember so fondly as friends and political allies, plan to have me killed."