Ainreth sighed as he walked to the Arbiter’s office again the next day.

His head still hurt from drinking the day before, and he might have sobbed into Snowflake’s fur at one point, but to be honest he didn’t care how he looked. He simply wanted to get this over with and then…. Probably sulk some more.

The sooner he got his position back, the better. Before he drank all of his wine. And lost his mind.

But when he approached Mar-Ethen’s office, he paused when he heard arguing. As he got closer, he found their door open, with a dark and curly-haired woman standing in front of the Arbiter’s desk.

“The people outside just want to know their loved ones aren’t dying for nothing,” she protested, her voice practically shaking with emotion.

As Ainreth took a few steps closer, he noticed the woman’s head was waving from left to right a little as she stared an unimpressed Mar-Ethen down, her bespeckled eyes full of sympathy but also outrage. The Arbiter probably didn’t share her feelings.

And that was when it clicked for Ain.

This was Daryan’s Apprentice, the woman currently representing him in his absence. And thank the sun for that, though Ainreth didn’t remember her name. They’d barely interacted in the past. The only reason he could recognize her was her tic, but he was fairly certain she was far more tolerable than the Herald.

“Their loved ones went to war. Of their own free will. The protests are far too overblown,” Mar-Ethen deadpanned, looking down at their work, scribbling something down with their quill. Daryan’s Apprentice glared down at them.

“Bad time?” Ainreth asked as he walked in, deciding it was probably for the best to break this up before they start arguing properly.

The woman immediately swirled around, her head stilling for a moment as she smiled at him, surprise in her eyes.

“Daybreaker! Hello, um—”

Ainreth raised his hand, stopping her. “Ainreth. Or Ain. All right?” Points his finger at her. “And you are? Don’t think I’ve ever caught your name.”

“Oh!” The woman blushed a little. “Ah, apologies. I am Mhalyn Fyr-Viran, the Court Apprentice to the High Herald.”

Ainreth nodded, offering his hand for a handshake. Mhalyn’s eyebrows flew up, but she shook his hand, her head waving once more.

“Nice to meet you,” said Ain as he let go, frowning at the Arbiter instead. “What’s going on?”

“Wavy here feels far too strongly for the people,” Mar-Ethen said, making Ainreth narrow his eyes, especially once he saw Mhalyn’s pout a bit. She probably didn’t like her tic being pointed out like this.

“Yeah, or maybe she doesn’t like people dying for no reason,” Ain grumbled.

“Spare me your sentimentality, Tyr-Naralyn,” Mar-Ethen said, snorting. Then they looked up again, looking less irritated than they were the day before. “Let’s get down to business instead. I have had a most wonderful idea. You two will team up and calm down the crowd. And I will get some peace and quiet.”

“What?” they both cried, shocked by this development. Ainreth didn’t mind. He just didn’t understand what the Arbiter had in mind.

“Yes, I do not see why not,” Mar-Ethen said, shrugging as they folded their arms over their chest. “You wish to calm the people, no, Mhalyn? They love no one more than the great Daybreaker.” The Arbiter snorted. “An inspiring speech from him, and they will calm down.”

“Hold on,” Ain said, his finger raised as he shook his head at the Arbiter. “I’m not in support of continuing the war.”

“You aren’t?” Mhalyn bulged her eyes out at him in shock. “But you’re our most powerful general.”

Ainreth wanted to reply, but Mar-Ethen snapped their fingers and stabbed their finger at their door. “Discuss this outside. I have work to do.”

Ainreth rolled his eyes, walking out of the office, done with the Arbiter, anyway. They were truly a test of his patience, and he didn’t have much of that to begin with.

When Mhalyn joined him she closed the door behind her, biting her lip even as her head started to slightly move back and forth again.

“Is this why you’re here? You don’t want to fight anymore?” she asked, staring up at him with wide, shocked eyes. She was even shorter than Petre.

“Well, not exactly. I punched Varilik,” Ainreth said, starting to stroll down the corridor because he didn’t want the Arbiter to listen it on anything they might talk about. Mostly because then they would probably complain about him and Mhalyn being loud later.

“You what?!” she yelled, the poor girl’s eyes as wide as they could be. It actually took her a little bit to catch up because she’d frozen in place in shock. “Why would you do that?”

“He’s been pissing me off for years. I suppose it just reached a boiling point when my boyfriend slept over at his tent.”

Ainreth wanted to growl those words, to express the rage that he was feeling as he recounted the event, but he just felt too bitter and sad to manage it properly.

He had overreacted because nothing had happened. And then he’d more or less broken up with Fenn, despite him not having done anything except be upset with him enough to not come back to their tent that night.

“That…. Wait.” Mhalyn was frowning, very confused, her head still as she struggled to comprehend what Ain had just said. “He didn’t…?”

Ainreth huffed, rolling his eyes. “No, he did not. But it doesn’t matter. I hate him. He deserved it.”

Mhalyn frowned, keeping her head down a little, looking saddened, but as long as she wasn’t going to lecture Ainreth about what a great man Varilik was, that was fine with him. He didn’t like upsetting her.

Despite not knowing her much, he could tell she was very genuine and had a good heart. She wouldn’t care about the people here if she didn’t. But that didn’t mean Ainreth was going to pretend to like Varilik just to make her feel better.

“I told him he shouldn’t go to Orinovo,” Mhalyn said, sighing sadly as she shook her head, continuing to do it, her tic going once more as they continued heading deeper into the palace.

Ain let Mhalyn lead him around, knowing he’d probably just get lost. She was no doubt leading them to her office, anyway.

“The High Herald near the battlefield? It’s bad enough the Bulwark is there, but she’s a soldier. Daryan isn’t, and he doesn’t have to be there to help with strategy. What if he gets hurt? Or worse. I know he’s a better fighter than he seems, but it’s still a bad idea. And he should be here. The people need him.”

Mhalyn stared down at the floor as they reached her office, her eyes worried and stressed as she looked up at Ainreth to wave him inside. Ain walked in, Mhalyn closing the door behind them and taking a seat in front of her desk, gesturing to Ainreth to sit in the chair opposite her.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said as she took off her glasses and started rubbing her eyes. “I haven’t slept much these past few days and I haven’t had the time or energy to deal with it.”

Ain wouldn’t have even noticed a mess if she hadn’t pointed it out. The room was small, with only a tall bookshelf on the right, a window behind the desk, and a few shelves hanging from the wall on the left.

The only thing that could be considered a mess were the books piled in heaps on the floor, with some stray parchment here and there.

“Right, no problem.”

Mhalyn put her glasses back on and chewed on her lip a little. Then she sighed again, staring at her desk. “You…didn’t hurt him too much, right?”

Ain raised an eyebrow at her. “No, I just broke his nose.”

Mhalyn cringed. It made Ainreth wonder why she cared so much. “All right.”

“What are you so worried about?” Ainreth snorted. “I should have hurt him more. Maybe then he’d have to go back here.”

Mhalyn’s eyes went wide with horror. “What? No! By the sun, what are you even saying? You could get imprisoned.” Then she paused. “Though maybe not since you’re the Daybreaker. But still.”

Ain just shrugged, not having much to say about any of this. He really hoped Varilik would just get killed. He didn’t go to the actual battles, sure, but Fenn had gotten kidnapped that one time, much to Ain’s horror. Maybe that would happen again, and the Herald would get assassinated. That would fix all of his problems. As long as no one else got hurt.

“Given the state of things, I’m sure he’ll get back here soon,” Ainreth said in annoyance. He hoped he would get to go back to Orinovo before then, though. If he could avoid Varilik completely, that would be incredible. If he could avoid him for the rest of his life, that would be even better.

Mhalyn sighed, hanging her head. “I’m not good at this, I know. The people listen to him. They don’t listen to me. You have to help me calm them down.”

Ain felt a little bad that she thought what he’d been implying was her being incompetent rather than him trying to comfort her that Varilik would soon return. But he didn’t feel like pointing that out right now.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be there. This war is an obvious excuse to take Orinovan territory.”

Mhalyn frowned at him, blinking. “The war is happening because Orinovo has the means to make its own az-ari. They threaten us.”

“Yeah, that’s the excuse,” Ain nodded, sighing. “It’s why it’s so irritating. I can’t go against it without looking like I don’t care about us all possibly getting killed in the future.”

Ainreth shook his head, pulling at his hair a little bit. He was just so frustrated and tired. He needed more alcohol. That would help him get through this.

Mhalyn pursed her lips, frowning in thought for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Well, then you have to see that this is important. We can’t leave Orinovo until the threat is dealt with. You have to see that.”

Ain scowled at her, despite the puppy eyes she was giving him. It was difficult. “I do see it. It doesn’t mean that we have to spend time sieging cities on the way. But no.”

Mhalyn opened her mouth, likely to argue, but she just sighed instead of saying anything, hanging her head. “I am no strategist. I just…. I want to make our people see that this is important. That we have to do this. But I can’t get them to listen to me.”

Ain hesitated just for a second before patting her shoulder. She flinched a little before relaxing, staring at Ainreth with wide, surprised eyes.

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“Hey, that’s not your fault,” Ainreth said, folding his arms on the desk, leaning on it. “You just don’t have them wrapped around your finger the way Varilik does.”

Mhalyn pouted. “He loves the Lys-Akkarian people and has served them well for decades. Of course they love him in turn.”

Ainreth snorted. He really couldn’t believe she was being serious. But she looked young, maybe younger than Petre. Perhaps she had not yet been disillusioned by life. “You really think that?”

“Yes.” Mhalyn frowned, her head waving once more. She seemed genuinely upset, her mouth drawn into a thin line, her eyes pained. “Why wouldn’t I? Daryan is a great man. Without him I’d….” Mhalyn’s eyes glistened as she looked down at the table. “I’m failing at handling this situation. At my job.” She paused, blinking away her tears. “I’m failing him.”

Ainreth couldn’t help but grimace a little. He couldn’t say he approved of her clear adoration of Varilik, but she was also clearly upset about the situation. And no doubt everyone would blame her for not handling it, seeing as she was the Apprentice of the Herald. But that wasn’t fair in the slightest.

“Look, I’ll help you. Okay?”

Mhalyn’s eyes went wide. “You…you will?”

Ainreth sighed. There was no going back now. “Yeah. You’re right. I think the Arbiter implied me getting my position back at least somewhat hinges on helping you, so….”

Mhalyn nodded, and though she still looked infinitely grateful, her delight had decreased a little bit. “Okay, okay. Um. I think what we should do is talk to the people leading these protests.”

Ainreth nodded, rubbing his chin. He needed to shave—his beard was getting too long for his liking. “That makes sense to me. You know who they are?”

“Yes.” Mhalyn rummaged around her desk drawers, pulling out a piece of parchment after a moment, putting it on the desk in front of Ainreth.

There was a drawing of a woman with braids that made him do a double take. Because he knew her very well.

Since when was Anyri involved in this?

“This is one of the leaders who I managed to collect some information on. Anyri Fyr-Orem,” said Mhalyn as she pushed the parchment closer to him. “She is a—”

“My barber,” Ain interrupted her, shaking his head. “She’s my barber.”

“Oh.” Mhalyn blinked, then smiled tentatively. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You know each other. And presumably like each other. That might help us.”

“And I could use a trim,” Ainreth joked half-heartedly, still feeling a little taken aback that the leader of the protests here was led by Anyri. She’d never seemed that interested in politics, or even just public life in the city.

Though to be fair Ain didn’t know that much about her. She just appeared at his house once a month or so to trim his hair, sometimes his beard, depending on if he could manage to do it himself without it looking like a disaster. And sure they talked and got along just fine. But now that Ainreth thought about it, he didn’t know all that much about her personal life.

“Perfect. I will set up a meeting with her. Tell her you will be involved.” Mhalyn nodded, her head waving again. “I will have you contacted when I know more.”

Ainreth sighed and nodded back at her. He didn’t have the energy for any of this, but he had to do it. Maybe he should go talk to Petre for a while, catch them up. They would surely want to be involved.

++++++

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” Petre said once Ain had filled him in on everything that had happened. They were sitting in the meeting room Mhalyn had prepared in the palace, alone for now, save for a few servants readying things and making sure the place was as pristine as possible. “I understand that the people don’t like the war because it doesn’t seem worth it.”

Ainreth nodded, agreeing completely.

“I just don’t understand why the Arbiter thinks you will help with this,” Petre added, making Ainreth blink.

“Hey!”

Petre rolled their eyes. “Your lacking diplomatic abilities aside, you don’t want this war any more than they do. I understand that people listen to you, but are you really going to lie just to get back to Fennrin?”

Ainreth sighed, shrugging. “I will have to. What else can I do? And ending the threat Orinovo poses is necessary.”

Petre shrugged as well, opening their mouth to say something more, but then the door opposite them opened, three people, with Mhalyn in front, walking in.

Ainreth focused on them. His eyes first settled on Anyri, nodding at her when she made eye contact. They hadn’t seen each other in a while. She barely smiled at him, which was so unlike her. She always grinned.

The other person was a blond, older man who looked a little familiar. Ainreth frowned as he tried to figure out where he’d seen him before. He was sure he must have, and it wasn’t simply a case of bumping into him in the city one time.

“General, will your lieutenant be attending the meeting too?” Mhalyn asked as she walked to the table, looking a little unsure.

Ainreth nodded. “Petre has invaluable experience that’s relevant to this whole thing. So yes.”

Mhalyn nodded, gesturing to Anyri and the man to take the two seats she was now standing next to, nodding at them politely.

“Anyri Fyr-Orem, Arem Tyr-Haran,” Mhalyn addressed the two representatives, looking at him and Petre. “Meet Ainreth Tyr-Naralyn and Petre Mar-Harion.”

Everyone nodded at each other politely, except Ainreth who made an oooh noise. “You were a soldier. That’s where I know you from.”

Tyr-Haran snorted. “Indeed. I am shocked you remember one of your former superiors.”

Ainreth laughed, shaking his head while Mhalyn looked at both of them with surprise.

“You know Mister Tyr-Haran as well?” she questioned, blinking.

“Oh yeah, kind of,” Ainreth shrugged. “I haven’t seen him in years. Why are you protesting the war? I thought you hated Orinovo.”

Tyr-Haran ran a hand through his short hair. Come to think of it, Tyr-Haran used to be a general, too, if Ainreth remembered correctly. He hadn’t notice him resigning, but he must have done it a while ago.

“I love my daughter more than I hate them,” Tyr-Haran answered simply, the frown lines of his face deepening as he narrowed his eyes. “The more interesting question is why you are here. I hear you lost your position. Not that you deserved it in the first place.”

Ainreth rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Buddy, I never wanted to be a general. I literally couldn’t care less about it. You can’t insult me this way.”

Petre rubbed the bridge of their nose, looking like they were regretting every single decision that had brought them here.

Mhalyn meanwhile had a pained grimace on her face, her tick in full swing, clearly from the stress and nervousness. Poor girl, Ainreth wasn’t helping her at all here.

“Uh, right. S-so you know each other. Perfect.” She cleared her throat, taking a seat between the four of them. “We’re here to, um, find some kind of middle ground.”

“How did you lose your rank, Tyr-Naralyn?”

Ainreth scowled at the man. He didn’t owe him this information, but he did sort of want to brag. It was oh so satisfying. “I showed Varilik what I think of him.”

Tyr-Haran blinked, frowning, as if trying to decide what exactly that meant. Ainreth was very happy to let him wonder.

“Look, as we already told the Herald’s Apprentice,” said Anyri, sighing, “we don’t want this war to continue. We got our territories back, and Orinovo has been taught a valuable lesson. There is no reason to risk the lives of our people like this.”

Ainreth wanted to point out that barely anyone had died until the ambush, but he agreed with her, somewhat. “I was surprised to hear you’re one of the protester leaders.”

Anyri looked at him, grimacing sadly. “I had to do something. My brother went to war alongside you.” She paused, her eyes glassy. “And he was killed. I knew then that something had to be done. That something should have been done long ago.”

Ainreth’s eyes widened, not having expected that. Well, to be more precise, that motivation made perfect sense, but he’d had no idea Anyri had had a brother, or that said brother had served alongside him and was one of the casualties. He must have been in a different regiment.

“I am very sorry for your loss,” Petre said, bowing their head. Ainreth nodded to support the sentiment.

“I appreciate that,” said Anyri with a huff, “but Ain and his boyfriend are the reason it ultimately happened, aren’t they? The Courtiers wouldn’t have agreed to conquering Orinovo without them.”

Ainreth scowled at her, feeling like he was being blamed for things unfairly, but much more importing—that Fenn was being blamed.

“Hey, now, that’s not our fault. The queen is making az-ari. Giving our abilities to her soldiers somehow. If she learns how to make a lightweaver or shadowforger—”

“So we’ve heard,” Tyr-Haran cut in, huffing. “But you have no proof that this danger is actually realistically possible.”

“What do you mean?” Petre asked, frowning, their lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. Clearly they didn’t like where this was going either.

“You have met one of these artificial az-ari, yes?” Tyr-Haran said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What power did he have?”

“Powers,” Ainreth corrected him. “He had the powers of a flamewielder and a windwalker. At the same time. Oh and he’s also the kapetan.”

Anyri’s eyes widened, having clearly not expected this, but Tyr-Haran’s face was as stoic as before, his eyes narrowed a little more.

“So, fairly common powers,” he said finally, making Ainreth snort.

“With all due respect,” Petre said, likely feeling a need to try to be more diplomatic, “windwalkers are not that common.”

“My point here is that perhaps they need a naturally born windwalker to give these powers to someone else,” Tyr-Haran said, folding his arms in front of him on the table.

“Or they don’t. Nobody knows how this stuff works,” Ainreth said, huffing a little at Tyr-Haran pretending to understand things despite not even having been on the battlefield to meet the artificial az-ari. “The queen’s daughter can absorb powers. Steal them from az-ari forever. She tried to do it to me several times.”

“That could support my theory,” Tyr-Haran argued. And sure, maybe it could support it. But somehow Ain really doubted that Neven had two powers because he took them from someone else like Yarima. If he could take powers, he would have certainly taken Fennrin’s. It would make no sense not to do it when he’d kidnapped him.

“Yeah, sure, but all this is is theorizing,” Ainreth said, shaking his head. “We don’t know anything for sure, aside from the fact that this is a threat. And even if Orinovo needs az-ari to give powers to their most trusted soldiers, you don’t think that’s a big problem?”

Anyri sighed then, looking imploringly at Ain. “We get that it’s a complicated situation. But that doesn’t mean we should wave war on Orinovo and take its territory because you and Fennrin are unbeatable together. It’s playing with fire that already cost people lives. And you could singlehandedly put a stop to it.”

Ainreth sighed heavily. He didn’t like that she was essentially quoting things he’d said and thought back to him. It wasn’t that simple, and he knew that.

“And what’s the alternative?”

Anyri shrugged. “Negotiation?”

Ainreth barely managed to hold in a sardonic laugh. Sun, if only that would have worked. “You really think the queen wants to negotiate? She wants us dead or subjugated.”

Tyr-Haran scowled at him. “So we subjugate her people instead? This is not the way forward.”

Ainreth groaned. This was exactly why he never took part in negotiations. He wasn’t good at them, and he was certainly not interested in taking part in them. How was his presence here helping when he himself wasn’t sure on whose side he was? He just wanted to get back to Fenn.

“Look, I’m not into this war either,” Ainreth said, deciding to simply level with them both, serious and stern. “I think Varilik is using it as an excuse to grab territory we have no claim too. We conquered a city on the coast simply to get access to the sea, after all.”

Anyri and Tyr-Haran say nothing, merely exchanging a look and letting Ainreth continue.

“But I also think the danger of the queen actually creating a shadowforger or lightweaver exists and it’s not just fearmongering. She’s currently in such a bad position that I’m sure she would agree to some kind of truce just to stop losing land. But she will keep doing her experiments on the side. She wants Lys-Akkaria, and she will try to get it no matter what.”

Ainreth took a deep breath before finishing his speech. “I think the threat needs to be put an end to. But I don’t think conquering half of Orinovo is the way to do it. We should send spies. People who can kill the people involved, disband the project. Learn more about it. But not outright siege Diramisk to do it.”

A moment of silence followed, everyone looking worried, frowning and deep in thought, ruminating over Ainreth’s words. Ainreth looked over at Mhalyn who was giving him a disappointed look, but she also seemed torn, grimacing, as if she deep down agreed with him, but she didn’t like it because it went against what Varilik wanted.

Finally, it was Anyri who spoke up first.

“So you are not in support of the war?”

Ainreth shrugged. “Not particularly. I think it’s completely unnecessary. Petre agrees with me.”

He looked at Petre to confirm, receiving an eye roll and a nod. Ainreth assumed they were simply annoyed because they were doing an awful job at convincing Anyri and Tyr-Haran of the importance of the war, the thing they were here to do.

Mhalyn was now giving them both puppy eyes, which made Ainreth wince a little, but he couldn’t pretend. He just couldn’t. Even if it meant not getting to see Fennrin. He’d thought he could lie, but it seemed he couldn’t after all, even if it tore his heart in two.

“I hoped you of all people would see how unnecessary this is. But what is your motivation for being here, then? Mhalyn said you were here to advocate for the war,” Anyri questioned him, frowning in complete bafflement. Ainreth couldn’t blame her. He was confusing.

“I just want Fenn back. He’s out there fighting Orinovo’s army alone. And I’m stuck here.”

Tyr-Haran was no doubt about to say something mocking that Ainreth would likely punch him for, but Anyri managed to talk first.

“Hm. Well, if the great Daybreaker speaks out against the war, surely the public support will be so terrible that the Herald and Bulwark will have to at the very least pause the conflict, right?”

Before Ainreth had the time to properly think that through, though, Mhalyn got involved, getting up from her chair and leaning on the table. “Okay, but that is not what we will be doing. Right? Please?”

Her puppy eyes were truly difficult to resist. Ain didn’t want to cause her problems. But he couldn’t support something he didn’t agree with. “I’m sorry, Mhalyn. I just can’t.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “This war is stupid and pointless. I just wish Fenn could see it, too.”

Mhalyn’s eyes were glassy, looking horribly conflicted as she grimaced. “Then I’m sorry, too, Ainreth. But I can’t help you have your position restored if you don’t help the protests ease.” She sighed, tense and upset. “Or even make them worse.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Anyri tried to comfort him. “I’m sure we can together stop this war. And then Fennrin will come back home. Why wouldn’t he?”

Ainreth doubted it would be this simple, but he appreciated her saying it, anyway. There would be no going back, either way. He clearly couldn’t lie, so the only way forward was to stick with this.

The meeting ended soon after, with Mhalyn visibly upset, walking off first, making Ainreth feel more than a little guilty. Anyri was telling him something about how he should go with them to plan their next move, and even though he nodded and agreed, his mind was stuck thinking about Fennrin.

He wondered what he was thinking about. Was he mad at Ain? He probably would be if this worked and it made him return to Kyr-Toryl.

But Ainreth couldn’t even get himself to properly worry about that. He just wanted Fennrin back home with him. Safe and sound.

He needed to send Fenn a letter today. Explain himself, apologize, and hope that whatever he and the protestors were going to do would work to get Fenn home quickly.