“What, Alaric actually surrendered?” Renauld said, startled. After a moment, he smirked with a mouth full of sharp teeth. “Didn’t think the bastard would actually cave, with the way the siege has apparently been going.”

Liora, meanwhile, looked down at her own cup and stared into the green tea within thoughtfully. “The siege of Blutstein had been going on for over a month by that point,” She mused. “It’s well possible that the usurper simply grew tired of the Uprising at his door.”

I shook my head, cutting through their words. “Oh, Alaric didn’t surrender. He apparently ‘killed himself out of shame’,” I said, holding my fingers and making air quotation marks. At the disbelieving of the table, I shook my head and shrugged. “That’s the news, at least. It came in on the ships only a few days after you left, and it’s been the talk of the town since then. 'King' Alaric committed suicide instead of surrendering, and then the Loyalists did it for him. The Uprising…won.”

“No godsdamned way he did it,” Azarus said bluntly. “That shite was stubborn even as a boy. No way do I buy he carked himself.”

I raised an eyebrow at the dwarf. “You actually met Alaric once? When? How?”

Azarus shrugged at me indifferently. “Eh, there was a big meeting between the Principality and the Kingdom when I was a lad. Before me Da’ passed, and even before…Baldric hit the road,” He said carefully, eyes cutting Liora’s way. Months ago, the Gnoll woman would have stilled at the mention of the dwarf who had been her foster Father, motionless in her grief. But time had dulled her pain, and now she merely met his eyes unflinchingly. Azarus quirked his lips and looked away, meeting my eyes once again. “Man was a surly teenager back then, always sulking about and lookin’ down his nose at us. But he was stubborn as a mule. Ain’t no way he killed himself.”

“Well,” I drawled, leaning forward onto the table. “I’m inclined to agree. From what I understand, it was very abrupt. As you know, the Loyalists were facing a ton of pressure from both the other Houses and the people. There were some very pointed,” I said, miming a stabbing motion with one hand. “Questions about how a Calamity appeared in the middle of Elderwyck. And about the rumors it showed up due to a Vampire.”

Renauld smirked at me. “And about how in the hells the Headmaster's new apprentice was able to kill both of them before level one hundred.”

I glowered back at him, only causing the Gnoll’s smirk to grow. He was right, of course. The incident with the crowd back in Elderwyck had turned out to be indicative of the entire Kingdom's apparent view towards me.

That of apparent hero worship.

I was being credited with both the slaying of Rhazal and Nerexxa. I don’t know how that had happened. My vote was on the leadership, possibly Woodrick, trying to juice my legend even more as part of a propaganda campaign. Initially, there had been questions about where I was, back on the mainland, if I had been the one to slay two major threats like that.

But Grey had put a stop to that. He had spread word that I had suffered a lasting curse from Rhazal and needed time to recover from it in an undisclosed location. Which was…mostly true, and I didn’t blame him for doing that. It’s not like I was likely to ever recover from my new appearance.

I was…slowly getting used to it.

Reluctantly.

“Anyway,” I said loudly. “So the Loyalists have surrendered and the war is officially over. The nobles were apparently quick to confirm Oskar as King-Elect. Last I heard they haven’t held a ceremony for him, but it’s apparently a done deal.”

Azarus leaned forward as well. “And Grey is okay with this?” He said doubtfully. “I mean, that’s great and all, but I was getting’ the impression he was so eager ta be doin’ all of this fer revenge. There were two more guys that were meant ta be behind the Loyalist, weren’t there?”

Renauld snapped his fingers, a decidedly odd sound from a furred hominid. “Oh yeah! Uh, weren’t they named something like…Ros-something and Vale?” At our stares, he shrugged. “I’ve never kept up with the nobs.”

“Rosberry and Valeard,” Liora interjected, exasperated, paying no mind to the triumphant finger Renauld shot her. “With the deaths of Graden and Olsen, they were the primary remaining backers of the Loyalists. Has word been said of their fate?”

“Yes for one, nothing for the other,” I said, nodding at Liora. “Valeard was apparently some big high general or something, right?” At Liora’s nod, I continued. “Well, he actually switched sides, apparently. After word of what reached Elderwyck reached him, he and his division surrendered to the Uprising rather than fight for the side that summoned tens of thousands of monsters. Last I heard, he still had his head, so…I’m guessing he didn’t have anything to do with Grey’s capture.”

“And Rosberry?” Liora asked with a raised eyebrow.

I shrugged at her. “Gone with the wind. Nobody can find hide or hair of the man. It’s like he vanished in the middle of the night. Nothing was reported missing from his estate in Blutstein. No signs of struggle. Hell, all of his wealth was still in his vaults as well. Just…poof!” I made a puffing motion with my hands. “Vanished.”

Azarus snorted in disgust, taking a big swig of his newly boozed-up tea. “Pulled a Leonard then, did he?”

I pulled a face at his words, just as dissatisfied as he was.

Word had filtered out of Herztal and reached us not long after we had reached the shores of Kawamara.

Leonard Ashan, the former Warden of Caer Drarrow and the man who had imprisoned Renauld, had abandoned the Loyalist cause. The bastard had just outright vanished one day after news of the events of Elderwyck had filtered out into the broader Kingdom. It had apparently been quite the blow to Loyalist morale at the time, and a contributing factor to their decision to retreat back to the high walls of Blutstein. There, I think, they had hoped to withstand a siege from the combined Armies of the Uprising. I had been told that those walls had never been breached in the thousands of years of Veredenese history. Not even back in the War in Heaven, nor the Initialization wars.

They hadn’t counted on their chosen King choosing to off himself, I guess.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The point being, Leonard was gone, and he had been the Loyalist's last great hope to counter Grey. Even if he had bested the former Lord Ashran before, when his long gone slave brand still weakened him.

But…

“It’s all over now,” I said, half in wonderment, half in exhaustion. “The war…is over.”

I’d had a week to process that, and it still hadn’t sunk in fully. It was looking like it hadn’t for the others as well , since each of my companions had their own reaction to the news that the civil war had been settled.

Azarus had the most muted reaction, with a small frown on his crimson-bearded face. He didn’t look displeased, so to speak. More…dissatisfied. I understood that, I think. The war seemed like it had ended not with a bang, but a whimper.

Real life wasn’t a storybook. Large scale conflicts so rarely ended with huge, epic confrontations between the 'Forces Of Good And Evil'. There hadn’t been some grand resolution where Grey and Oskar had stood over the defeated form of the Dread King Alaric and declared the Sculpted to be free. Instead, it had more likely been Grey consoling a young man about how his brother had chosen to end his life instead of face justice for his misdeeds.

Including the murder of their Father.

Even as personally irritating as I found the King-Elect, I still felt bad for him. Alaric had still been blood to the former Prince, no matter what he had done. It…almost made me wonder how Isolde was handling things.

Liora was the only one of us that looked relieved in any way, shape, or form. A tenseness to her shoulders had eased, and the young Gnoll woman…relaxed in place. I had never realized before now, but I think Liora might be a bit of patriot, as odd as it was to consider that. Her entire family going back generations had been involved in the defense of Herztal, to the extent that they were the ones operating one of the largest clandestine organizations within its borders. She might have given up that life at the request of Baldric, but you needed strong feelings for a sense of generational duty like that. Almost peacefully, she reached down, picked her cup of tea back up, and sipped on it with a small smile on her face.

Renauld, though…

Renauld’s mood unexpectedly took a downturn. With a frown, he reached over and snatched the flask of liquor that Azarus had yet to put away, dumping what was left of it in his own cup. He ignored Azarus’s faint, mildly offended protestation and then slammed back his cup. The Gnoll shuddered as the booze slithered down his throat.

Exchanging a glance with Azarus, I cleared my throat. “Are you okay, Renauld? I…expected a better reaction than that.”

Renauld startled, almost as if he had forgotten that the rest of us were even here. “What? Oh. Uh…no, it’s great that the war is over. It’s just…it reminded me of something I need to do, now that it’s all settled. I was…I only…I enjoyed our time out here in Hinaga,” He paused for a moment. “A lot. I really did. And now…it’s probably all coming to an end..”

“The hells do you mean by that?” Azarus asked him, confused.

Renauld sighed, before limply gesturing my way with on hand. “Well, isn’t it obvious? With the war over, the Headmaster is going to want Nate back on the mainland. They probably want to shower him in medals or something.”

I blinked rapidly at the spotlight shifting my way. He…well.

He wasn’t wrong, per se.

Still, I shook my head. “I doubt that,” I said, causing Renauld to raise his eyebrow in question. “I told Grey that I only wanted to come back when the Academy was going to open again. He knows not to call for me before that. And, honestly? I don’t expect that to happen for a while yet. I mean, they just got out of a war. Surely…surely it takes more time to convene a school year for the Academy than a few weeks.”

I didn’t enjoy the note of doubt that snuck into my voice at that thought. Nor did I enjoy the doubtful looks that my companions exchanged.

I…didn’t want this to end either, I realized. The last few months spent here in Hinaga had been the most peaceful I had ever experienced on Vereden. I had grown very fond of everything to do with Kawamaran culture. I enjoyed the polite nature of the people and the way they didn’t tend to stare at my cursed features for very long. I enjoyed the food, and the culture that seemed to grow around it. I enjoyed my business, in the way I was getting one over on old masters by undercutting the market on Oninite weaponry.

I enjoyed…the peace.

Before I’d gotten here, my entire year of life on Vereden had been nothing but battle after battle, in one way or another. I’d been running around with the shadow of something hovering over my head that entire time. Whether that had been the yoke of slavery quite literally around my throat, or the looming threat of the Loyalists…I had never known peace.

But I’d found it in Hinaga, and I was finding that I was reluctant to let it go.

Besides.

I had yet to accomplish the one, concrete goal that I’d set for myself, here in the Kawamaran Isles.

“I don’t know about that, Nate,” Azarus said dubiously. “Grey and that old harpy run a famously tight ship. I reckon they could get the school runnin’ for a semester right quick, without the war holdin’ ‘em down. From what I understand, they were the only faculty that were participatin’, as well. The rest of the Professors were holed up in that fortress, darin’ Alaric and his goons to come in and drag ‘em out. There’s a good reason the Loyalists never tried.”

“And it’s not just because they probably put up the shields, either,” Renauld said with a faint smirk. It died quickly, though.

Liora set her cup down on her plate with a definitive clink, drawing attention. “I sympathize, Nathan,” She said calmly. “But I would advise you to set your affairs in order. I, too, believe that the Grand Marshall shall soon call on us.”

I heaved a sigh and nodded after that, standing up from our table. “Yeah…alright,” I said tiredly, picking up my hat and putting it back on. “I’m going to settle up at the front desk. You guys…you can stay, if you’d like.” I barely heard their assent before turning around and walking up to what was really a bar.

It only took me a moment to pay for our drinks, and then I was out the door and into the evening air of Hinaga. The enchanted paper lanterns that hung on lines all up and down the street were only starting to come alive, as Tarus began his descent over the horizon. I was a bit startled, personally. I had no idea that the four of us had spent so long inside that tea house, considering it had been nearly lunchtime when we’d sat down.

I guess time flies when you’re having fun.

For some reason, that thought caused my mood to fall further, and I decided to just call it a night. Maybe some more calligraphy practice would distract me of our likely return to Herztal soon.

However, I didn’t make it more than five minutes down the road before I was interrupted by a familiar, irritating sight.

A servant dressed in green and yellow, once again bowing before me.

I felt my temper flare. “You had better not be here to bug me about Lord Ashiwara’s commission again,” I warned hotly. “I am not in the mood.”

The servant bowed deeper. “A thousand apologies, Kuroshō, but I am,” He said, straightening up. To my surprise, he raised a hand to interrupt the tirade I was about to unleash upon him. This was so out of character for every single servant I’d interacted with here in Hinaga that I actually stopped, if only in surprise. “Please, I implore you to listen. My master has instructed me to tell you that he will offer an additional payment for quicker delivery of the blade.”

I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. “I don’t need more gold,” I groaned. And I didn’t.

I’d made plenty from my other commissions.

Plenty.

The servant bowed again. “My master is aware,” He said. “And thus, he offers knowledge. It is his understanding that you are searching for word of odd metallic doors somewhere in the countryside? Perhaps located under hills and mountains?”

I stilled, as the ultimate decision I’d agreed to come to Kawamara was aired.

Bunkers.

I had never forgotten the map I had seen, in that strange, alien bunker underneath Hollow Hill all those months ago. And I had not forgotten that it had shown a still active bunker to be located somewhere in this chain of islands.

I had been asking around for months about it, here in Kawamara. And I’d never gotten a hint of acknowledgment about it.

Until now.

I slowly lowered my hand from my face and fixed the suddenly nervous servant with an intense stare.

“Tell me more.”