Adireal pulled the curtains back on his window, took a deep breath of the fresh air, and shouted, "Six weeks! Six long, boring, weeks but now I am free!"

The time had gone by slowly since his last “incident,” and finally Adireal was rewarded for his patience. He checked his clothes again, straightening the collar, and strode out of his room with cane in hand. The hallway beyond would be easy to traverse, but that wasn't the biggest problem facing Adireal today. The forty or so steps from his floor to the ground level would, once again, be a thorn in Adireals side. He was pretty sure he could handle going down the stairs, though Ysbella had warned him that it may be quite painful for the first few days. His body felt weak; too much time in bed had left him feeling tired no matter the time of day. She would have preferred to be there for his "first steps," as she put it, but she was off taking care of . . . things.

Adireal really didn't know WHAT she did when she went away. She was technically like a . . . Adireal paused to think for a moment, and scratched his chin . . . A living Saint? A manifestation of the God's will? Adireal did remember that she was a high ranking angel, some order of Seraph. Her six-wings represented her status; half-angels and lesser angels only have two wings. As they grow in power and responsibilities, more wings manifest. Ysbella once told him that the most powerful angel that had stepped onto this world had eight wings, though he had been gone for quite some time. Part of Ysbella's duties required her to look after the Elveen people, though she had many other things she oversaw, and lots of rules she had to follow. She never talked about those duties though; likely, Adireal thought, the ongoing war was as much a burden to her as to his father.

So today was a day when Ysbella was taking care of those OTHER things. That didn't matter though, because today, Adireal would take care of his own business. He could show everyone that he was becoming an adult, and he would attend breakfast, and he would attend church services, though it was still mid-week and not a day for gathering at the temple. Regardless, prayers, thanks, and a blessing were in order. Most of all though, he would go outside. The world had looked so far away through his window, and he had felt so forlorn, that he felt a walk amongst the town surrounding the castle would do his spirits good.

The stairs were far more of a trial than Adireal had anticipated. Adireal had to take two breaks on the way down, forcing himself to take slow, careful steps. His legs ached, especially around his stitches, and he almost fell halfway down. For his first time out in over a month though, it went well enough. He made the tail end of breakfast, missing the fruits and pastries, making it in time for the meat, eggs and wine.

The eating hall ended up being disappointingly quiet. Argus was attending another war council, and Adonis was either spending time with Ranvaas or one of his cronies. To add to Adireals unease, the servants refused to look at him; his food was brought in silence, save for the occasional "M'lord." The tables did have the families of the visiting nobles, some who nodded or forced smiles and at least acknowledged his presence. Even so, he was often the last person served when the attendants passed through. Regardless, this small piece of freedom bolstered his spirits. The sun shone through the high windows, warming Adireal's body while he sat.

Argus not being present was not unusual; it was rare for the King to have time for such civilities. As long as Adireal could remember, his father was meeting with generals in regards to the latest battle, or with his ministers to brainstorm how to help the displaced peasantry whose lands were lost to the humans. That is part of why Adireal hated reading "recent" Elveen history; the Elves main strategy seemed to involve retreat and relocation. The humans bred like insects, making up for their short lives. The Elveen lived almost three times as long, in ideal situations, but humans could bear several children in the hundred years they were graced with. Elveen families would be lucky for one or two children in that time. Needless to say, though they had once ruled the entire continent, the Elveen now ruled only a third of that, and the humans kept on taking more.

Sighing, Adireal looked around and motioned to one of the servers. She was a slight girl, with long, golden hair. Her name was Liliaana, and she had always been kind to him. At first, it seemed that she did not notice him. After the third time he motioned for her, Adireal managed to make eye contact. Lilianna flushed slightly and clutched her serving tray to her chest as she walked towards his seat. She let her eyes drop to the floor, and bit her lip.

“M-m’lord. Have I d-done something wrong?”

Adireal’s eye ridges furrowed. “It’s still Adireal, Lilianna. I am hardly a lord yet, and my crowning as Prince is years off.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What is wrong with everyone? They all seem so . . dour?”

The woman gripped her serving tray tighter. “Lord Adonis has made some . . . Changes. He feels we will serve the Crown better if we show the nobles more respect. While your father was never big on this sort of thing . . .” She turned her head and took a deep breath. “Artyn was the first to make a mistake. The castle staff were called into the grounds. They-they flogged him, to unconsciousness.” Lilianna bit her lip and gently shook her head. “We aren’t to speak of it; I should say no more.”

Adireal rubbed his cheek and looked off into the distance. “Yes . . . My brother and I had a similar discussion. Where is he? Did he leave already?”

Lilianna shook her head again. “His Lordship takes meals in his private chambers now. He dedicates his time studying that which Prince Ranvaas has assigned him.”

“Lilianna.”

She looked at Adireal and immediately cast her eyes downward again.

Adireal ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ll try to make this right. I don’t know how, but it will get better.”

Lilianna lifted her head slightly, still not meeting Adireal’s eyes, and gave a slight smile. She mouthed the words, “Thank you,” and curtsied. “I should get back to work M’lord. Unless, you need me for something else?”

Adireal shook his head and pushed his plate away. “I think I have had my fill. Please tell everyone that breakfast was good. Be safe Lilianna.”

She curtsied again and and began to scoop up Adireal’s dishes as he stood to leave. Walking the main halls was much easier than the trip to the dining area, and in short order he had made his way to the chapel. There were far fewer priests today than his last visit, since no holiday was taking place. Adireal made this a quick trip; he said his prayers and penned out one of the customary requests to the Gods. Visiting the chapel today moreover revolved around the fact that he had been unable to attend services for over a month and it would have been in poor taste to not visit at his earliest convenience. Adireal did not want to embarrass his father or Ysbella.

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The priests smiled and nodded to each other. It was a different atmosphere than with the servants; here, Adireal was greeted with smiles all around. A priest quickly attended him, thanking him for his loyal services to the people and the gods, and got materials together to help him prepare his prayer sheet. As Adireal began crushing his berries, mixing them into ink, more than a dozen priests and priestesses surrounded him.

The eldest priest bowed to him, and spoke. "Young prince, we are most gracious! So young, and already you serve the Crown and the Gods with all your will and might!" The gathered priests nodded in affirmation. "We have kept you in our thoughts and prayers, and have eagerly awaited your return to us! We are gladdened that our prayers have finally been answered, and await your future deeds!"

Adireal looked between them, the Brothers and Sisters of the Wood, and was met with rapt attention. Intense focus; adoration, perhaps? It was a different weird feeling than when Elves shunned him. "Um, right. Right. Glad to serve, uh, and keep my bro-uh, Lord Adonis, alive. Right. I-uh, I should finish my prayers?" The priests and priestesses bowed their heads, with a chorus of comments like, "So devout," "So pious," "So dutiful," and the like, and made room for him. Adireal released a deep breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, and began to pen his prayer.

"Laltier, the Father of our Woods, walk beside me both day and night.

Guide me, with your hand, from wrong and into right.

Protect me in darkness, as you protect me in the light,

I'm forever yours, so keep me in your sight.

Niltuil, the Warden of the Woods, thank you for my health,

Thank you for tending to me as you would tend to the very trees.

Thank you for reminding me that my well-being is more important than wealth,

Thank you both for the blessings granted to me.

Adireal Darksbane"

The main priest took Adireal's prayer paper, and lit it in their main brazier. A few more pleasantries and soon enough, Adireal had earned his respite. The walk to the courtyard was short, and Adireal hurried as much as he could; since he was leaving through a side gate, there was only a small amount of traffic. It was no longer early spring, and the sun shone on his scales, warming him deeply. The birds that Adireal could see and hear flitted about; some in the trees, others looking for food. Adireal paused in the archway to watch them, grimacing as he flexed his wings slightly. There would be no flying for him for quite some time.

The people passing through the gate mainly consisted of workers hauling things in and out. As Adireal watched a bird fly off into the distance, he noticed that a hand-cart had paused, waiting for him to exit the acrhway. Glancing about, he saw that all the traffic had stopped, the waiting Elveen staring at the ground in front of them. Adireal grimaced before letting out a short sigh. There was plenty of room to pass him, and it seemed odd that the workers would wait on him. Was there some new story about him that had them worked up? Did the rumors of him being nothing more than a pet monster become even more widespread since he killed the assassin?

Putting on his best smile, he straightened his tunic and began to stride forward. Nodding at both lines and the guards he said, “Sorry. Nice day out, and I was just enjoying the sun. I’ll be on my way.”

The people he passed stood almost completely still. Some bobbed their heads and muttered a reply, some merely refused to meet his eyes. No one recoiled from him as he walked by, which had happened to Adireal occasionally. Honestly, it was what Adireal had expected. The guards came to attention as he passed, and he gave them a quick wave. They refused to relax their posture until after he had walked by and was nearly around a corner. Adireal sighed as he walked, and watched as everyone resumed their activities.

Shaking his head, he continued on into the city.

It had been a while since Adireal had entered the town. Even before the assassination attempt, Adireal spent most of his time within the castle. Much of his time was spent in classes with Ysbella, and a little time was with weapon training . . . Though Ysbella had never approved of Adireal learning to fight. Something about him being too young, though many pages started training far younger than he. Adireal planned to push for more training soon, with official knights instead of exercises from his books.

He felt like he deserved it, and had proven himself capable.

He wandered without purpose, quickly learning to ignore those who showed him "respect." Adireal delighted in the chaos of the city; the noise, the movement, the colors! These were all things that he was missing within the castle walls. Even the smells lifted his spirits, with Adireal being able to discern foods cooking in the market, unwashed bodies of laborers passing by, perfumes and spices for sale . . . And the animal shit left from the horses and other beasts of burden. Cleaners passed through the city streets frequently, but to Adireal, the smell of shit just seemed to . . . linger.

Something Adireal had never noticed though, was how run-down the city was. Though, upon consideration, run-down was perhaps not the right term. Looking around, he couldn't quite put a finger on any one thing, but the city-folk certainly did not live like the castle-folk. At home, everything had to be PERFECT. Clothes always arranged perfect, food always served perfect, speech always impeccably perfect. Here, people existed and it seemed to Adireal that they just didn't have time for perfection. Merchants were far too busy hawking their wares to apply a fresh coat of paint to their buildings, laborers were far too busy working to straighten their clothes and freshen up. Adireal couldn't help but feel that maybe the castle-folk could learn from this. More things could get done in the castle if they spent less time arguing over perfection and perfect solutions, and just FINISHED projects.

Shaking his head again, he came to a small square where some sort of event was being held. Signs were plastered on the buildings, and behind a makeshift stage, displaying the letters "NHI". One large banner above the stage proclaimed that everyone should "Join the New Home Initiative today!" Adireal watched for a while, since all the merchant stands were closed here anyways, and listened as the speakers droned on about ending the war, and saving the Elveen people. The speakers were all dressed much finer than the people they were speaking to, and Adireal could smeel the strong stench of heavy perfume on them. They were likley well-off merchants, or low-end politicians.

The best dressed one took his turn on the stage. "Fellow Elveen, my good Elves. I wish to reiterate what my colleagues have already stated; it is far past time for the Crown to step down! This war has drug on for far, FAR, too long, and our people have suffered greatly for it. It is time for us to take our best, our brightest, and our most capable folk and establish a safe place for our people. The New Home Initiative will replace the failing Royal family, and institute a cabal of Grand Mages, Great Sages, and other powerful individuals to build an impenetrable metropolis, an insurmountable kingdom, and protect the Elveen people as a whole, not just those they feel as "important." Are we not all Elveen? ARE WE NOT ALL IMPORTANT?"

Adireal leaned into a wall, trying to will himself into invisibility. No good would come of him being here. At best, it certainly would not be taken as him "staying out of trouble," if anything were to happen. As he quickly turned to leave, Adireal could hear someone moving quickly behind him. An Elve was rushing into the square, and even as he moved, they slammed into him. Bouncing off of him, the woman paused to catch her breath, and then began to admonish him.

"You should certainly watch where you are going! I am very busy, and running behind, and you should know that my fath--OH!" She paused again and looked him up and down. Bowing her head quickly, she curtsied, and resumed speaking. "M-my Lord, ahh, my Prince! Please forgive my insolence! I had not thought that one such as YOU would be in attendance here . . ."

Adireal looked about hurredly, before placing a hand over her mouth. "Shhhhh . . . I was just passing through, and wanted to see what was going on. I had no idea that these folk were talking about . . ." Adireal looked around again and lowered his tone, "Insurrection."

The woman flinched slightly when he placed his hand on her, but listened to him quietly. After a moment, she pulled his hand off and looked up to him. "My Prince, they do not speak of insurrection, nor of violence. That would be devastating to our people. No, my father and his colleagues only want what is best for Elveenkind; safety, prosperity, and a future we can all embrace." She looked around as well, and tugged on his hand so he had to step closer to her. "We could go somewhere . . . Private . . . and discuss this, my Prince. Having someone like you on our side would be . . . very beneficial."

Adireal's breath caught in his throat. All he could focus on was her warmth in his hand, and how close she was to him. She . . . wanted to talk to him? Not run away? Dumbly, he nodded yes.

"My name is Villandra," she said, gripping his hand tighter. "And I know just the place to go to, my Prince."