The enthronement took place in a large assembly hall right before the sunset. A crowd of officials and other important Helvettians gathered inside in numbers so vast that the door barely closed behind them. The hall was dark, aside from the large circular platform in the middle, where Ivendir stood majestically like a diamond sculpture. A swarm of drones hovered over him emitting almost no sound. Some of them recorded a live transmission while other machines held bowls with burning herbs.

Ivendir's silhouette reflected on the wooden floor in a faint, aggressively orange light. A long, arctic-blue robe with a diamond brooch and a light purple belt with a scabbard attached to it discreetly masked his rectangular, stubby build, giving him an appearance of a slimmer and taller man. His crimson hair flickered like fading embers and his face expressed no emotions. For the last hour he just calmly gazed ahead, waiting for the right moment to perform his ritual duties. Steady, deep breaths slowed down his heartbeat, only his hands dripped with sweat but he could covertly wipe them in his long, loose sleeves.

He kept a tight rein on his thoughts. His task for the current moment was to flawlessly perform the enthronement ritual and he stuck to that. Despite his concentration, two feelings fought a battle in his mind. The first of them, an irresistible euphoria, tried to force a smile on his face but a sharp grief and self-blame efficiently silenced all signs of glee.

A hooded person dressed in similar but more modest clothes approached him. The individual held a pillow in front of them, and the only sound that quietly echoed in the hall were their steady steps. An oblong, cerulean blue diamond lied on the pillow, shimmering and glittering.

Brymir, trust me, repeated Ivendir in his mind when he slid his sword out of the scabbard. Its cross-guard was made of a translucent coruscium, forged in the shape of icicles, and the carvings on its grip mimicked roots. The blade, although produced of the same material, resembled a real aquamarine. Ivendir unscrewed the grip like a bolt. Grips of all plasma weapons served as battery holders too. The soon-to-be king put the crystal inside the grip and screwed it to the sword again.

...please, trust me, Ivendir continued, his wet finger shifting around the grip, searching for a button, I will make Helvetto a better place than everybody expects. He raised his sword, uncovering the snake tattoo on his arm. Trust me, please. He found the button and pushed it.

A blue beam of plasma surrounded the blade, brightening the hall with a light so glaring that many observers blinked or narrowed their eyes. Despite the sudden brightness, the Helvettians began to cheer and swing their flags.

The silent and grieving world finally found a reason to feast and rejoice. Pubs in the remote villages and exclusive restaurants in the capital city resounded with common calls of joy. Street people and individuals of good families drank toasts on the market squares and open-air cafes. The upcoming night was going to stay bright, illuminated with fireworks and campfires.

The most important part of the celebration has just ended. Ivendir sighed with relief, knowing that the cheering crowd will drown it out. He wiped his hand in his sleeve once again and turned off the plasma sword. He slid it into the scabbard and strolled down the platform at a smooth pace.

Brymir, I won't disappoint you, he thought, leaving the last step.

The first observers were walking out of the hall when Ivendir threw the robe off and trotted towards the exit for the elite.

The loose tee-shirt uncovered Ivendir's real silhouette. He was younger and weaker than his cousin, Brymir. His muscles and body fat merged together, making him look stocky but not fat in any case. The green snake tattoo on his arm was made by a most skillful artist and the hyperrealistic scales reflecting the cold glow of the lamps’ light only confirmed the tattooist's precision. The vertical pupils in the yellow eyes of the creature seemed to react to the light intensely.

A row of giant, dark brown pillars supported a slightly curved, sand-coloured ceiling. Each of them was just a tree trunk decorated with relief carvings. The carvings presented plants and forest animals on the bottom, and treetops or birds on the higher parts. Ivendir stopped behind one of the pillars, carefully keeping track of the walking nearby Helvettians.

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Seeing the three Vardir Commanders walking out of the hall, Ivendir called on his cousin, "Erilaz..."

Erilaz didn't react, slowly following Hefri and Andvari. The long sky-blue robe distinguished the Vardir Commanders and Captains from the rest. Erilaz brought his outward appearance to order, his braided hair mimicked a golden wheat spike, and a thick layer of powder masked the dark circles under his eyes almost entirely. Nevertheless, his weary gaze still revealed his inner emptiness.

"Vardir Erilaz!" repeated Ivendir, raising his hand. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Yes, Ivendir, I do," responded Erilaz, halting suddenly. "Sorry."

"Come on." Ivendir pointed to an empty corridor with his head.

Without any questions, Erilaz followed him.

They crossed the corridor and stopped in a wide, empty hall. A tall, arched window let the last sunbeams in, paining stretched shadows on the peanut-brown wooden floor.

"Now you're free to call me Your Highness," said Ivendir with a little smile.

Erilaz only awkwardly raised a corner of his mouth.

Ivendir took a deep breath and looked upwards at the tall Celestian. "I need your help," he declared, "even if it's hard for you."

Erilaz sighed. Ivendir's problems weren't in his field of interest but since he was fated to work under the new king's orders, he nodded in agreement.

"That's not a problem. As a Vardir, I'm always here to assist you."

Ivendir looked deep in Erilaz's eyes. "I need you to focus, understood?" He glanced at the corridor behind. It was still empty. He continued in a quieter voice, "Did you see who took that shoot?"

Erilaz stepped back as if the flashback of the battlefield punched him in his guts. His heart sped up straight away. He felt invisible claws clutching his throat.

"No, I have no idea," he recited rapidly. "If I could only get there faster..."

"I'm not here to blame you," Ivendir broke in, raising his hand, "or act as if I'm better than you."

Looking meekly at Erilaz, he waited a moment. He wanted to let Erilaz catch his breath and calm down the surging anguish. Speaking gently and clearly, he asked, "Did you see that person or device?"

Digging this memory up was for Erilaz like a vivisection. He mobilised all his muscles to appear impassive. The longer he recalled the view of shattered Brymir's head, the stronger spasms he felt in his stomach. He really didn't want to be angry at Ivendir for reopening this wound. Questioning the witnesses was a completely normal, necessary procedure, especially when the victim used to occupy the most important position on the whole planet. And yet he experienced anger. Ivendir still dredged up the worst moments of Erilaz's life.

"No," he answered.

Ivendir sighed and lowered his eyes. "It's too bad. That could really help us with the investigation."

Erilaz only nodded slightly. Ivendir glanced through the window, seeking the right words for a follow-up question. When an important thought eluded his mind, he turned his head towards Erilaz again, hoping that the Commander will take up the conversation.

Erilaz didn't even consider that possibility. All he wished for was to turn around and walk away. Ivendir's questions convulsed his guts, but he still tried to act professionally. Vardir's duty was to listen to the king.

Ivendir shifted his weight from foot to foot, while the silence became more and more uncomfortable.

"I asked many of my people who were in this area and..."

Your people? thought Erilaz, crossing his arms.

"...nothing." Ivendir shrugged. "It feels like we were searching for a ghost."

"I wish you good luck..." said Erilaz, covering his lips with his fist, "…Your Highness, but I can't do anything."He clutched his fist stronger, thick veins bulging his triskelion tattoo."I was too late," he added, tightening his fingers on his diamond brooch.

"We all made some mistakes." Ivendir relaxed his muscles. "I could go and fight too, but I thought it would be better if I stay there and defend the city walls." He was always good at hiding his suffering, but the long conversation about Brymir's death finally took the floor. His real emotions flickered through his face. He quickly resumed, "This investigation is the only thing I can do to seek justice."

Erilaz began to gradually zone out. He invested all remnants of his energy into listening to Ivendir's words but he was simply worn out. A buzzing noise resounded in his heavy head and the veins in his eyes remained red. He tightened his fingers on his arm, staring at one point on the floor.

Clearing his throat, Ivendir pulled Erilaz out of the reverie.

"What should I do now?" asked Erilaz.

"Just be on standby and keep your eyes open," explained Ivendir. "The Moryans left our world in a few hours, but they may be planning a return." Turning towards the exit, he narrowed his eyes and added in a quieter voice, "Just a rumour... but it's better to be careful."

He walked away, and his steps remained the only sound in the hall.

Erilaz gazed through the window. The setting sun cast warm, comforting beams but Erilaz was too exhausted to enjoy them.

A few seconds, he thought. That could be enough. He raised his sight ponderously. A few seconds to avoid it all.