A sensation both familiar and new. That's how Rall would've described entering the Fog for the second time. The complete and dense darkness that shrouded the path remained unchanged. However this time, under the protection of the white dome, the ghostly figures flew by without their usual ruthlessness. No teeth-gnashing, no hands banging, it was like the Fog was intentionally avoiding his Lighthouse. Thus, he did not have to concentrate on his spell with the entirety of his mind.

Instead, he started questioning his current situation. For example, who was that old man that had been staring at him with such intensity?

"Hmm, thank you for saving me? Are you saving me?" The boy asked to break the awkward silence in the carriage.

"Excuse this old man. I was captivated by your magic. I guess introductions are in order. My name is Conrad Alexander Delaux, former Admiral of the Borian Grand Fleet." He said while giving a slight bow. "The man driving the carriage is my butler and my dear friend, Hopp."

Since Lann had uncovered the carriage, the butler in the front could turn around and face the boy without obstructions.

"Greetings, little Sir. And forgive me for my earlier showing. I... let myself go a bit there. Old habits."

Compared to the crazed lunatic that he had been at first, Hopp was now the perfect example of a professional butler - well, almost. He still had the crazed shot-up hair, just no one had told him yet.

"Hopp was in the Imperial Alchemists, uniquely passionate about explosives. You've just seen the fruits of his expertise." Conrad explained.

"It was so long ago, almost feels like another life..." sighed the butler.

Rall smiled a little. It was the first time since his father's death.

"I am Rall Lightson. Just a boy from a small village."

"Oh no, Rall. You are so much more!" Exclaimed Conrad. "But first, why don't you introduce this mermaid friend of yours? She's been staring for so long, even an old bastard like me is feeling uncomfortable."

Indeed, the blue-haired mermaid was staring at the three strangers with a mix of concern, sorrow, and surprise. Without taking her reddened eyes away from them, she kept massaging her right shoulder. Her earlier fall had not been kind to her.

"I... don't who she is," Rall said, honestly. "I don't even know if she understands Aldian."

"I-I can," a quiet but melodious voice said.

"Oh, that makes this a little easier then," observed the former Admiral. "What is your name, Milady."

"I-I am- Tui."

She then turned to Rall, her face tensing up in anger. "W-Why? Why did you take me?! Couldn't you have left me there? I did not need help."

"Your Fairylight asked me to," the boy answered.

"My..." disarmed, she looked at her Fairylight that was peacefully floating beside a paler white one. She sat there for a short moment, taking in the spectacle of light created by the two orbs of light and Rall's Lighthouse. Then suddenly started crying.

"Hey, hey. Calm down. You are safe now," Rall said, trying to comfort her.

"It doesn't- matter- if I'm safe-" she said between her sobbing. "They- have my little sister. If they think- I escaped... oh no."

Listening to the girl's story, Conrad and Hopp remained in silence. There was nothing they could do about it. And even if they could, the girl was not part of their plans.

"W-Who has your sister?" Asked Rall with the voice of a guilty child.

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"The King- of Motu Rere-. I was- promised to Prince Ra Ma- as his first wife."

Rall did not fully understand the meaning of all this, but he had read enough about History to know that this was a complicated matter. So he asked the only thing he had in mind. "Who are you, that the Avian's royal family would want you and your sister so much? Is it because you are a light mage?"

"It-It's not..." she said, wiping her tears. "My sister and I, we are the last descendants of the first Merfolk king."

Conrad and Hopp exchanged a concerned look. They knew that getting Rall would garner the ire of many dangerous people. They thought that stepping on the dragon's tail was worth the treasure. Instead, they had done the equivalent of punching it in its snout and insulting its mother.

If the King of Motu Rere willed it, the sky would fall on their heads.

"I am sorry," said Rall to the girl.

She looked at the boy who was about the same age as her sister. The image of what the Avians would do to her made her shiver. She stood up and tried dashing out of the moving carriage, but her body refused to move properly. Her legs gave out, and she fell face first towards the ground. Thankfully, Conrad and Rall caught her and pulled her back into the cart.

"Lady Tui. What are you trying to do?" Questioned Conrad, concerned.

"I need to go back to the Opal Palace. I can use Lighthouse too. If I can get to Ra Ma before they depart, I can save my sister."

"And what about you?" Asked Rall.

"I-It does not matter," stuttered Tui. "My little sister's life is more important than mine."

"Still, with your body in that state, you won't get anywhere," said Conrad matter-of-factly. "Light mage or not, the Fog will just drag you further north. You will die in the Dead Plains."

"Then bring me back. Just close enough that I can get to the Palace!" Pleaded the mermaid.

"I'm sorry, Milady. We can't turn back. They will be searching for us by now, the risk is too great."

She resumed her desperate cry. "Then just let me go! You don't know me, why would you care what happens to me?! If there is any chance I can return, I need to take it."

Conrad's brows creased, as did Rall's. "Hopp, stop the carriage."

"At your orders, Sir."

The carriage stopped, surrounded by the moonlight dome in the dreadful grey mist. "I will not stop you, Milady. If you want to try, go for it," said the old man.

"Why are you letting her go? She will never make it!" Argued Rall.

"It does not matter, Rall. She is free to choose for herself," answered the former Admiral, his still voice highlighting the gravity of his words.

The boy was speechless. He had thought of freedom as such a precious, sacred concept - he wasn't even strong enough to protect his own! Why would anyone let go of their freedom willingly?! Why would anyone choose to die? He could not understand it.

Then he remembered. He remembered how he had felt when he had jumped in the Fog to save Dorothy and little Sarah, to protect them, and to uphold his promise to Thork. After that, he remained silent.

Tui slowly got up, her legs trembling as she leaned on whatever her hands could find to support her weight. When she felt stable enough, she took the first step towards the Palace. Then, something incredible happened. Her Fairylight dashed in the way, drawing a line on the edge of the carriage.

"Why?" Tui whispered. "At least you... shouldn't you be on my side?"

But her Fairylight stood its ground. It could not physically stop her from going, but it had made its message very clear.

The mermaid felt her legs quivering and she fell back on the wooden floor. Her eyes closed as she passed out from fatigue. After that, the carriage resumed its travel. Even with all the things they wanted to talk about, Conrad and Rall remained silent. Tui needed to rest.

***

A few days later, the Fog returned to the Deep North. News from the Opal Palace's annual auction ran through the Continent, as they had done every year since its first edition. Still, this year the messengers moved in hurried steps, the ravens flew quicker, the informants were more competitive.

In just a week, every influential figure in the Continent knew of Lady Sharyah and her newfound fortune. They knew of the attack at the Motu Rere convoy and the kidnapping of the soon-to-be princess. And most importantly, they knew of the boy with the white Fairylight.

***

In a humid underground cell, a figure shrouded in shadow was shackled to the wall. Heavy chains, oozing a malevolent green aura, continuously sucked at his magical energy. Steel knives of many designs and sizes stabbed his body, all placed expertly in places where they would not be fatal. His fingers bled, his nails splayed on a bloodied table filled with instruments that, if not for the dreary context, would've felt natural in any hardware store. The figure wailed in pain but knew that no form of begging would save him from a horrible end. Alas, he kept trying.

In front of the shadowed figure stood another two, shrouded in similar manners but different in build and stature. They often browsed the table for new saws, knives, pincers, hammers, using cleanliness to decide which one would be next. Regardless of the order, all of them would end up bloodied before long.

Outside the cell was another figure, a silver cloak unable to hide her beautiful feminine curves. Behind a pearly mask were two emerald eyes that shone in elegance and coldness. She walked back and forth, her arms crossed on her chest as she thought about the implications of the news she had just received. Abruptly she stopped and turned towards the cell.

"I seem to remember you saying that the boy did not have a Fairylight. Isn't that right, Number 17?" She asked rhetorically.

"I tell the truth! For over a month, the boy did not show any sign of a Fairylight. I beg you, Milady. Let me die." The shackled figure implored.

"Do not worry, I believe you. I believe that you are incompetent enough to let a little boy trick you without even trying."

"But Milady. He didn't. There is no way a child could hide it so well..."

"Nonetheless, you failed spectacularly. Not only does he have a Fairylight, but it's even white! Do you even know how significant that is? But you know what, it's my fault too. I should've known that Theodore would be enough of a fool to teach his son how to hide it. Norms and tradition were the things he hated the most in this world."

She looked at the two torturers. "Proceed."

She resumed her back and forth for about ten minutes while piercing wails echoed from Number 17's cell. Then she stopped again.

"I will go tell His Highness. You guys keep this inept waste of air alive for as long as possible. I want to hear him shriek in agony until the last seconds of his pathetic life." Ordered the masked woman.

"Yes, Milady!" The two replied in unison.

With quick but elegant steps, she moved through the gloomy jail. In her wake were nothing but screams of suffering and despair.