A slight wind tickled the ends of his fur, and Erden peered up from his rest and looked out the wide window, the curtains swaying about as the moonlight peeped in between the long cloth. He growled and turned to the Pavilion Master, Remulus Grant, who was neck deep in scrolls, papers, and binders. The bald, old King Exalt's hands blurred, one scribbled and scratched on the paper, and the other flicked the papers, stacking the finished documents on a pile.

"Is something the matter, Erden?" Remulus said, stamping his seal on another document. He wiped the sweat off his scalp and frowned, but his hands never stopped as he kept his eyes on the paper before him.

He was lower than a King Exalt, so this response was normal, but receiving it was still infuriating. Erden rose and got on all four hooves, cracking his joints and neck, loud audible snaps drowning out the incessant scribbling. He smacked his mouth a couple of times and grunted. "Do the others know?"

"What others?" asked Remulus, his focus still on the documents.

"Oscar's other friends. The princess, the prince, the swordsman, the others. Do they know he's alive?" Erden asked, growling.

Remulus stopped his pen, the ink flowing down to form a small splotch at the end of his signature. Closing his eyes, the Pavilion Master let out a sigh, his shoulder deflating and wrinkles deepening as each second of air left his lungs. This time, he locked gazes with Erden, eyes full of a clear softness and hazy exhaustion, the look of a person at the end of their ropes, one Erden saw in several others.

"No. Oscar's friends have not been informed. I've also imposed a gag order on those who know, mainly the survivors from Drakken Port." Remulus stated, rubbing his bald scalp.

"Why not?" Erden stomped his hoof. "They deserve to know, and Oscar was too rushed to save his master to go and visit them at the other ends of the Empire. He left it to you to tell them."

Remulus waved his hand, and the windows clanged shut. "It's not time."

"Time? He's alive." Erden couldn't believe his ears. All Oscar wanted was to be reunited with his family and friends. The pain and sorrow he felt from Oscar when they saw his parents' grave nearly crushed him, an endless tide of Oscar's regrets and darkness drowning them both, and Erden never even knew Oscar's parents. But the joy and relief at meeting Fred and Emily sparked brighter than anything in Oscar's life, excluding Avril.

Erden only wanted what was best for Oscar. Unlike that idiot Demon who went about it all the wrong way, he wished for Oscar to see his friends because they were all he had in this damned continent. His mental connection to Oscar was perfect to let Oscar see and listen to his friends if they came back. But this damned old man refused.

"I can see your confusion, and I understand." Remulus' green eyes glinted from the moonlight. "His friends mustn't know, not right now. Celestina and Charles are at the far northern front, a week away. Their minds must not be disrupted for even a fraction of a second, lest they fatally fail. The same goes for Phillip and Eleanor in the Rust Cliffs. The others are scattered around, performing their duties without the news of Oscar's return splitting their thoughts."

"You don't know that. They'll fight harder." Erden argued.

"That is unneeded. They are fighting fine as they are now, not too headstrong or passive. We've maintained a steady balance all this time, and that is what we need until the time comes to retaliate. Not to mention how they will react when they hear Oscar is in the Rurin Goals." Remulus walked toward the couch and sat down an inch away from Erden.

Erden tried to contain himself, but involuntary gulped and buckled his knees. It wasn't any purposeful pressure from Remulus forcing him to back down; it was the natural response to being in close proximity to a King Exalt, the aura of a higher power pressing on lesser creatures.

"Listen, Erden. I know I'm being the bastard right now. Believe me. I wish I could do more for my grand disciple. However, as Pavilion Master, I must consider everything." Remulus patted Erden's head, and Erden didn't reject him, feeling only the warmth and goodwill from the old Exalt in the careful and tender strokes. "That is why Draven hates me. When he was captured, my first thought was to break into the prison and slaughter the enemy, but I couldn't. I failed him twice now. Then and now, I am forced to stay back due to the shackles called responsibility."

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"But Aunt Rosett knows, and Aunt Ward knows." Erden understood Remulus's woes. Yet, he had to argue back to grasp the chance for Oscar to have more brightness in the bleakness so far.

"Aunt Ward…." Remulus chuckled lowly. "It's just like Maggie. But do you know what they're doing right now? Rosett has closed herself into her workshop, working on the blueprints Oscar gave her, hammering like a deranged maniac without concern for her health. Maggie is not well. My reports say she's taken fewer meetings and rarely addresses the soldiers. Do you think knowing about Oscar's survival and the potential escape of Draven have done well for them?"

Erden didn't want to admit it. The Pavilion Master's words were all true and full of concern for the entirety of the Empire, yet they seemed so cold and distant to him. He grunted, "No. It did not."

"Call me cruel. Call me detached. Call me unworthy of being called master. But when you are in a seat of power yet under the thrall of another, the choices you make…one eye is blind while the other has to look elsewhere." Remulus's voice fell to a low, weak, trembling voice. He said in low gasps, almost like sobs, "I am ashamed. I am forced to rely on the others, my grand disciples. One who is preparing to fight under the banner of another for our sakes, and the other, who brought riches and knowledge and should be gifted with all the rewards and accolades his achievements demand, is forced to fight in the lowliest of the dirt."

Nothing. Erden had no response to the weary Remulus, a broken look of years of burdens and regrets piling on the old man's shoulders. Erden got on the couch and lay beside him, offering his head and back as a comfort. Oscar was his priority, but he found someone else who desperately needed a hand. Remulus's grateful laughter came out as he patted Erden's back.

"Do you believe in Oscar's success?" Erden asked.

Remulus smiled, enlivened for the first time in their long conversation. "The stories he told us about his journey here are enough proof. He formed a bond with you, escaped the inescapable, evolved a core that was bound to forever be at its grade, found the love of his life, crossed paths with Ancients and a Primaere, and survived. If there's anyone I can trust to pull it off, it's Oscar. Yes. He can do it. And you?"

"He'll pull it off," Erden stated without hesitation and snorted in laughter. "My life's on the line too."

Remulus laughed and leaned his head back on the top of the couch. "Saul has taken a more active role since his return. That selfish prick…What is Oscar doing right now?"

Erden closed his eyes and said, "What he does best."

…….

Demon spat on the man's clothes. The man roared and charged like a mindless beast, swinging wildly, driving his fist toward Demon's face. Demon scoffed, seeing this man as a maggot, and spat on the slow, weak fist. Quickly, he sidestepped and punched the man's shoulder.

"Gah!" The man gargled his pain, clenching his teeth as veins contorted his face. Demon swerved to the other side, ducking below the arms, and rammed his elbow into the other shoulder. For the finishing touch, he kicked the man's knees from behind, and the man fell down, sitting on his knees.

"My arms…." The man tried to lift his arms, but Demon purposely attacked the shoulders to disable the arms for a good amount of time. He had several questions to ask this man.

"Are you going to comply and be my servant?" Demon grabbed the man's hair and raised him to meet his cold, uncaring eyes, ignoring the screams as some hair snapped off.

"Y-yes. I will be your humble servant and obey you." The man cried and begged while putting his hands together as if in prayer.

From within the inner world, Oscar observed, concerned by the man's strange behavior, one unsuitable for a Knight Exalt. He switched with Demon and asked, "Who are you? Where did you fight?"

"I am Edclet Synd, former captain of the 20th Platoon of the Fifth Southern Army," Edclet answered without a pause. He was a tall man, slightly shorter than Oscar's real height, but still an imposing figure. However, his arms were lanky, and his bony legs quivered nonstop.

Oscar let him go and received Edclet's submissive bow, his head banging against the floor. "Stop!" Oscar ordered him to stand up. "How long have you been here?"

"A year. It's been a year, sir." Edclet lowered his head, shaky and unwilling to meet Oscar in the eye.

"I am Felix Giles." Oscar used his fake identity. Somehow, Elder Saul painstakingly transcribed this name into their minds to avoid being detected by a truth potion or mind control. "Are you not a proud Knight Exalt? What has broken you, brother, to this extent."

Edclet mumbled and stammered before he finally looked at Oscar, his face pale, nothing but a poisonous, maddening fear spilling from those dark pupils. "Oh, you'll see, sir. You'll see." He shut his mouth and dove into the bed, covering himself with a blanket. "You'll see."