The cold, emotionless gazes of the soldiers lingered on Ash and Damien. Their drawn weapons were pointed at them, both charged with green mana. “Halt.” One of them said coldly. “State your names and ranks-“

The soldier paused as the golden leafed ferns rustled, and another soldier stepped out onto the dirt path. She leaned towards him, whispering something in his ears. The soldier scowled, then nodded. “My apologies, Lord Galor.” He turned his gaze towards Damien. The young noble raised his eyebrows. “No need,”

“Please come with us,” The soldier continued, gesturing right, to a narrow path snaking through the fern plants. “Both of you.” He added, seeing Ash slowly take a step back. “Where, exactly?” Damien asked, following the soldier with Ash in tow.

The soldier remained silent as he led them through a short patch of golden leafed ferns. The narrow path came to an end, connecting to a relatively spacious patch of grass. There were a few soldiers guarding this place. Their cold, judgemental gazes followed Damien and Ash as they stepped onto the grass-covered opening in the fields.

A man a head taller than Ash was standing on the other side of the opening, wearing a dark blue cloak that swept the ground as he turned around. A large, fiery phoenix crest was embroidered on his slick, dark blue uniform with golden threads. His long, wavy black hair flowed to his back. A silver crown shaped like an elegant circlet peeked through the shorter strands of his hair. His golden eyes almost seemed as if they were glowing in the shadow of the High Tower.

A quiet gasp escaped Ash’s lips. He immediately knelt, bowing his head.

“Your highness!” Damien exclaimed, also falling on one knee.

“Lord Galor,” The crown prince spoke. His voice was icy cold, just like before. “It’s been quite a while; I’ve been hoping to get a chance to speak with you.” He approached Damien. “There is no need for this, please stand up.”

Ash lifted his head just enough to be able to see them. Damien hesitantly stood back up. It was clear how tense he was. “Thank you, your highness.” He bowed his head.

“I remember seeing you when I came to visit your grandfather.” The prince’s lips curled up with a faint smile, though his golden eyes remained cold and distant. “Your family’s service to the Empire has been extraordinary, and it makes me glad that finally the High Tower has been able to welcome a Galor.”

“It is an honour to be accepted to the Academy.” Damien forced a smile.

The crown prince nodded. “I have been informed that you are classmates with young lady Hawken as well. Please send her, and her father my regards – he is your temporary instructor, is he not?”

“He is,” Damien nodded. “We have been learning from him for the last several days, since Professor Maple had to step away.” He glanced at the soldiers standing at the very edges of the grass-covered opening. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your meditation-“

The crown prince chuckled. “You’re not intruding, Lord Galor.” He seemed amused. “I was planning on paying my respects to the Tree of Spirits, why don’t you and your classmate join me?” As he spoke, he shot a glance at Ash. His golden eyes looked down like he was weighing his worth and deciding on his value.

“It would be an honour to accompany you.” Damien bowed.

“Splendid.” The Prince’s cold eyes turned towards the guards. He raised his chin ever so slightly, prompting the soldiers to check the path leading away. “Let us go then,” He turned to follow the soldiers. Behind him followed another soldier, she matched her steps with Damien, making sure to always be one step behind him. One of the soldiers lightly pushed Ash’s back, prompting him to follow the Prince and Damien.

Ash was too far to hear their conversation as they walked through the fields, so he turned his attention to the soldiers accompanying them. He had counted eleven of them so far, but there were probably more of them following far behind, or making the sure the path was safe far ahead. Their clothes were beautifully sewn uniforms. None of them wore even a single piece of armour, but they did carry ordinary looking weapons with them.

Aside from the flaming phoenix crest on their cloaks and shoulders, their uniforms were also decorated with golden symbols along their sleeves. Those symbols seemed to glimmer, even while standing in the shadow of the High Tower. Ash narrowed his eyes as he stared – they weren’t glimmering, what he saw was mana. Trace amounts of golden mana.

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Someone cleared his throat. The soldier he was looking at shot him an annoyed glance. Ash quickly turned his gaze to Damien’s back as blood rushed to his face. He hadn’t really considered how rude he was being, just staring at the soldier’s sleeves like that.

Thankfully, they soon reached their destination – the millennia old tree towered before them, surrounded by its beautiful white aura. The pink and white petals decorating its leaves softly rustled with a breeze that seemed to only exist around it.

The soldiers quickly spread in a loose circle around the tree, far enough away from it that a conversation held under its branches would remain private.

“Oh,” Damien looked at the branches of the tree. “This is called the Tree of Spirits, your highness?” He asked. “We spent a lot of time here, yet never knew its name.”

The Prince raised an eyebrow. “Not precisely. This tree was cultivated from a branch of the Tree of Spirits. Since the original tree is beyond our reach, it is only right we pay our respects to its offspring.” With that said, he approached the tree and placed his palm on its reddish-brown bark. His lip moved with what Ash assumed was a prayer. He closed his eyes, and lowered his head.

Damien took a few steps back to stand beside Ash. “It’s a blessing that Fionna and Kira are gone.” He spoke softly. “Though I do wonder where they are…”

Ash nodded. Having Fionna’s meditation disturbed by a group of soldiers and the crown prince wouldn’t be great, though he couldn’t help but wonder where they had gone. Not even half an hour had passed since Ash and Damien left, and Fionna was in deep meditation just a few steps away from the Tree of Spirits. Had Kira noticed the soldiers approaching, perhaps?

That thought brought forth another. Why were people avoiding the crown prince so adamantly? Maya and Damien were so worried when he even so much as glanced at them, and Kira was clearly avoiding him. Ash turned his gaze back to the crown prince again. He seemed cold and calculating, and his smiles all seemed fake. He was the second most powerful person in the political landscape of the Empire, and he was going to be Emperor in the future.

Yet he didn’t seem as evil as Damien and Maya made him sound like. He just seemed like a powerful but cold person. Not too different from Inquisitor Victor, and he certainly was kinder than Kira.

After a few moments, the prince lifted his head, took a few steps back from the tree, then returned. “How is your grandfather doing, Lord Galor?” He paused. “Do you mind if I call you by your name?”

Damien’s eyes widened. “Not at all, your highness!” he exclaimed. “My grandfather is well, thank you for asking. He stays at the Gate, and is convinced that if he leaves, demonic forces will attack.”

The crown prince chuckled. “His strength alone would be enough to deter a small hostile force,” He agreed. “But I’m afraid he isn’t quite powerful enough to stop the full force of the dark lands. That’s not to mean he isn’t a formidable power, of course.” He gestured at Damien. “Seeing you follow in his footsteps puts my heart at ease. Our empire needs the strength and resilience of the Galor family.”

Damien bowed his head. “I will strive to live up to your expectations, your highness.”

The crown prince placed his hand on Damien’s shoulder. A soft, almost invisible golden aura appeared around him. It was difficult to see, even for Ash. Streaks of golden mana no thicker than a strand of hair swirled around his arm, then moved to Damien’s shoulder, then snaked towards his back.

“And your classmate here,” The Prince’s cold voice startled Ash. He lifted his gaze from the barely visible strand of mana to see the crown prince’s golden eyes focus on him. His eyes narrowed as his lips curled up with a polite smile. “Let us meet again, Damien, and soon.” He said, turning his gaze away from Ash. Only when those golden eyes turned elsewhere did Ash notice he had been holding his breath. When had that happened?

“And bring your classmate as well. It’s been quite the shock to see a Twilit so young. Quite an honour too,” He glanced at Ash. “I will arrange it, in fact. Soon. Until then, take care.” With that, the prince turned around and left, accompanied by his guards.

Stunned, Ash watched them as they left, until they disappeared behind the rows and patches of tall plants. There it was again, that label the imperial family put on him. ‘Twilit’, as if he belonged to some long lost lineage of mages and sorcerers. They were mistaken, but he knew that even if he tried to explain, the crown prince wouldn’t believe him. Prince Daith and Princess Aoife hadn’t, after all, and they had spent time together, trusted each other to survive.

“Well…” Damien let out an exhausted sigh and sat down. “I’m sorry.” He looked down at his empty palms. “I’ll make something up, make sure he doesn’t try and invite you.”

His defeated and guilty tone was what pulled Ash out of his thoughts. He glanced at Damien, confused. “Why?” He blurted out before he could figure out a tactful way to phrase ‘why do you act like he’s evil?’.

Damien raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it.” He said after a moment’s hesitation. “We were unlucky, but it shouldn’t affect you. There’s nothing to be concerned about.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Ash. “We’ll go back in a bit, once they’re far enough ahead…” He added quietly. Ash nodded. He probably just wanted to sit there a while longer, to work through everything they talked about.

It was a challenge to keep his mouth shut despite his curiosity gnawing at him – why was the prince considered such bad news? What was there that he didn’t know?