"I miss Oscar. Why can't I meet him in my dreams again?" Avril covered her ears with her hands, grumbling as pangs of pain broke into deep lines along her brow. It had been a while since that magical night when she met her beloved in the dream, not a conjured image or imagination, but the real Oscar. She took out her diary and began to write, each stroke of the letter and completion of a word soothing her mind.

"She should feel blessed she met him at all in her dreams. Right. At least she saw him again." Avril clapped the diary shut and put it away. Placing her finger to her lips, she blushed and lowered her eyes in a trance, remembering the moments with Oscar in the dream. A faint groan whimpered, and Avril frowned, turning her head with an icy stare. Corpses littered the ravine, some splashed into a bloody mess on the rocky walls, others torn apart into severed limbs along the ground, and the rest strangled by her forest.

Lifting the ends of her long skirt, Avril skipped along the rocks, avoiding the river of blood of her doing. Her strong trees imprisoned the sole survivor, the one she let live not for mercy but for information. The man's head was drenched in blood, his limbs held strongly by her plants, stretched to the extreme to induce pain and suffering. She raised her hand and formed stairs of roots to walk above, eye-to-eye with the damnable scum.

He spat out blood, trembling from her cold glare, a slittery voice that perked her ears. "You slaughtered my men. We did nothing against you. So why? Who are you?"

Avril studied the man, noting the deep chasms of age running along his face, the signs of getting older. He had aged tremendously since the last time they met. The memories of what happened years ago resurfaced, and rage chilled her heart. She gripped her hand, the roots and vines squeezing tighter onto the man's limbs, inducing screams of pain. She could never mistake this face and voice, but he didn't appear to remember her. Realizing something, she lazily lifted the ends of her hair, noting the black color.

"That's right. I changed my hair and eye color to match my husband's…I miss him so much. All I want to do is run to his side and hear his voice. She clenches her fist and punches the bastard in the face." Avril followed her narration, landing a fist squarely on his nose, breaking it as it spewed out into a rush of blood. She continued to speak even as the man gurgled, gasping in pain and choking on his blood. "She can tell he is suffering and is worried for him. I must return, but I need to finish here first."

She snapped her fingers, controlling a vine to wrap around the man's neck. "That's why I need your help."

"For what?!" The man barely squeaked out his words.

"Do you remember when you raided a town, Crestfell Town? Do you remember when you kidnapped a child with indigo hair and gold eyes?" Avril contained the rage about to erupt, stopping her vine from gripping further. "I remember. I remember it all. I remember you sending some of your men to hunt down the ones who ran away. What happened to them?"

"Crestfell…" The man seemed confused, scrunching his brow. "Where is that?"

Avril swiped her hand down, and a rain of blood splattered on her face. The man's horrified screams were quickly muffled by a tree trunk shoved into his mouth. From the torn arm, blood trickled down and dripped down the once-green vine. She gagged and wiped her face, the nauseating smell of blood and sight of torn flesh welling up terrifying flashes of memories. Gulping deeply, Avril shouted in a hoarse voice, "That girl which you sold into slavery to a man bearing the crest of three swords. The village you burned to the ground."

The man's eyes widened, a sudden look of realization. She released his mouth and allowed him to speak. He grunted through the pain and said, "Aye. I remember now. It was a small score. I don't recall the girl being sold for much, just a little brat."

"What about the survivors, the ones who ran away?" Avril gritted her teeth, enduring the pain in her head.

"Some died in the forest nearby. I can't remember, but I'm sure the survivors ran west. That's all I know. I swear!" The man begged and pleaded for her to let him go.

She turned away and floated into the air, ignoring the screams underneath as they suddenly fell silent. Avril clutched her chest, her heart writhing and squeezing as if someone was gripping it with a hand of nails, the immense pain bringing her down, tumbling to the floor. Coughing, she tremored at the sight of fresh blood on her palms and raised her head, clattering her teeth at the shadowy woman with a scythe pointing at her. After a few sessions of twirling her ring around and imagining reading beside Oscar, the pain subsided, and clarity returned to her world.

"West…I went the wrong way." To find the group that raided her home, she spent loads of money in the Alchemist Guild to gather information and finally caught sight of their activities far down south near Farandale. Yet, now she had to return to the starting point and go west. She was so tired. Her body rested on the rocky cliff above the carnage, wishing she could see Oscar in her dreams.

…….

Deep inside the Imperial Palace's training room, Oscar meditated, controlling his Ein to the guidance of the emperor, Julius, who placed his hands on Oscar's back. The emperor's Ein set the course for Oscar to follow, intricate flows akin to the swirls and paths in a fingerprint, ever unique and complex. Duality was a complicated spell to master, but that was understandable one of the core self-made spells of a King Exalt. A few minutes later, Oscar relaxed his Ein and sighed at his sweat-soaked body.

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"Your progress is quite good. When my ancestor taught me this spell, it took me quite a while. Compared to that, your speed is remarkable." Julius praised, his face still stoic. He stood up, patting the dust off his pants, his sword hoisted on the waist, a remarkable armament that was the picture of an elegant sword with a golden curved knuckle guard and a silver scabbard. "I apologize for the distress you faced yesterday night. It is our failure to detect the nefarious elements. As a hero, you deserve better."

"To know the Dragnar Ancestor is personally heading the task force to investigate and that the emperor is expressing his apologies is more than enough." Oscar bowed.

Julius grinned and turned around. "Forgive my joke when we first met. I wished to lighten the mood since you seemed too tense."

'That was a joke?' Oscar doubted.

Julius didn't look back to see Oscar's doubt and said, "However, as a father and the emperor, may I ask you to watch over my daughter and princess? She cares deeply for her people, but she can be reckless."

"Wouldn't it be the other way around? I'm only a Greater Knight Exalt." Oscar retorted.

"It'll be fine. I'm sure my daughter will listen to you…as long as you're not as reckless." Julius departed with that final warning.

Moments later, Oscar ran up the spiraling stairs back to the surface. He checked the time, seeing he had some time to wash up. Erden rested lazily on the bed in his room, ruining the sheets with his antlers. Oscar ignored him and cleaned himself up just in time as the Pavilion Master burst into the room, a deep frown lowering from his lips.

"We're leaving now. Have everything?" Remulus asked.

Oscar answered, "All set."

Without much fanfare or ceremony, he was rushed to the port where a familiar airship awaited. The Pavilion Master never stopped sweeping his gaze everywhere, double-checking, triple-checking, even quadruple-checking some places, scowling as he hurried Oscar and Erden into the airship. On the decks, he laid out several crystals and drew patterns from his blood, the precious blood of a King Exalt. The crystals shone, the blood evaporated, and a dense barrier of green Ein formed around the ship before fading into invisibility.

"This should keep us safe from any surprises. They won't be able to use their Spatial Ashbead around me." The strange object Sirsi threw to transport him and her into the world of slate was the Spatial Ashbead, a unique trinket that locked someone in a small prison realm for a certain amount of time. The reason Oscar could escape early was because Sirsi allowed him. A grade-five transformation elixir and a previous Spatial Ashbead…the New Dawn, or rather, Sirsi, certainly spared no expense on him.

"Stay close, Oscar. I won't have us be split apart again." Erden plopped down by Oscar's side, nudging him with care. Oscar smiled and rubbed his friend's head, scratching the dome where he knew Erden loved it.

The journey back was uneventful, fortunate for them. During the few days, Oscar trained hard in the Duality spell, reaching the point of separating the Ein silhouette cleanly every time but failing to form the body. The Pavilion Master shrugged when he asked for help because Caires never revealed the secrets to the old King Exalt. No matter. He had ample time before the new Black Aegis Order was ready with a hundred troops.

Remulus floated above the airship and sighed, relief easing the wrinkles on his brow. "We're back home."

Oscar looked out, always impressed by the splendor of the Pavilion and the towering Divine Essence flower. Landing in the port, he stepped out but didn't relax, wary of any attempts by Sirsi or other New Dawn agents. However, a smile stretched across his face at his two friends rushing toward him, a mix of worry and joy in their expressions and hurried erratic strides. He expanded his arms and welcomed them in, grappling with the other two with a hearty laughter.

"We got word about what happened. Are you alright?" Fred clasped his shoulder and nodded.

"Thank goodness. I wouldn't know how to react if we lost you again." Emily seemed overjoyed, shaking the two men with loud laughter and whipping her orange hair around.

"I'm fine. How's everyone else?" Oscar asked.

"Not too shabby. Everyone's excited for you, oh, Margrave of the Borders, Oscar." Fred said in a mocking tone, not maliciously but in a light-hearted joke. Emily smacked him in the back of his head and scolded him. They were back to normal, the two of them holding hands and bantering like in the past, which made Oscar well up in joy, hugging them.

"Did you see my family?" Fred asked.

"Your father was scared, but seeing your aunt again was nice," Oscar answered.

"That old bastard must be regretting everything. Serves him right." Fred laughed. "How did high society feel like?"

"Stressful, tiring. I don't know how anyone does it. At least the food was good." Oscar shook his head.

"You should have packed some up for us. Years of rations left me hungering for other meals." Emily gulped, probably imagining the great feasts he ate.

Shoulder to shoulder, they chattered on the way back.

…….

In a dark basement, Sirsi roamed through the corridors, her hands behind her head as she whistled without care. Her maid uniform had been cast aside, replaced by a knightly uniform with long white pants and a white coat that tailed behind her back down to the knees. Humming, she could not stop thinking about the outstanding power Oscar displayed, the fierce pair of onyx eyes that enamored her, and shuddered in excitement, wondering how powerful the child between them would become.

'I wonder if our child will have the same pair of eyes.' Sirsi swayed her head around, humming her tune to the empty walls.

"Stop that incessant humming, Sirsi. You're disturbing my thoughts." A voice called out from the end of the corridor. He spoke in a soothing, magnetic tone that swayed many but not her. Adjusting his glasses, he rose to his feet and extended out his hand. "Do you have it?"

"Can't you see I'm overjoyed, Faust? Here. In exchange for helping me contact Oscar." Sirsi tossed a vial of blood she retrieved from Oscar during their battle. The vial was thrown off the mark, and Faust clicked his tongue, waving hand, which sent a wave of Ein that carried the vial to him safely. Sirsi scoffed at the unworthy Volten. "So obsessed with that creature of yours."

"The Clan Head believes strongly in the Reis Cores. I believe in my creations. We are pioneers of the Volten ways. But you? Poor Siris, still trapped by the failures of our misbegotten past, believing in the old methods. Thousands of years of trying, and not a single child born carried the potential. What makes you believe you're special?"

"This time will be different. I've helped you get Oscar's blood, so leave him alone." Sirsi glared and said intimidatingly, commanding, "He's mine." Without waiting for a response, she returned the way she came, humming again through the corridor. She pulled out another vial of blood and swirled the precious life essence around. "What to do with this blood?"