It was Brymir's ambition that led Erilaz to his current status. The king had power to make Erilaz the Vardir Commander but he wanted his son to get this position by himself.

When Erilaz was fifteen, Brymir's friend visited the castle. He and his son strolled through the garden, talking about this visit. Erilaz got a triskelion tattoo a day prior and his hand still itched a bit. His hair was shorter and reached below his shoulders.

"Have you already talked with Thorleif? Have you gotten to know him?" asked Brymir.

"Yes, he told me about the academy in which he's the principal," said Erilaz spreading his arms, "and about his travels. He saw so many species, cultures and cities, stuff like that."

Brymir wanted to ask one more question but Thorleif walked from behind a hedgerow. He was as tall as Brymir but he never took part in any military trainings so his silhouette was less muscular. He kept his hair braided, and he wore a knee-length tunic.

They stopped, looking conspiratorially at each other.

Erilaz raised his eyebrow. "What?"

"Did you tell him, Brymir?" asked Thorleif with a little smile on his face.

Brymir glanced at puzzled Erilaz. "No, not a word."

"What's going on?" muttered Erilaz, his eyes wandering from one Celestian to the other.

Brymir reached his hand towards his friend. "Thorleif said he's going to take you to his academy for a monthly course."

Erilaz’s eyes flared up with passion. "Really?" he asked, craning his neck forward. "What am I going to study?"

"We're the biggest academy on this planet; we have plenty of subjects," explained Thorleif and began to count on his fingers, "from biology, through warfare to civic relations and..."

Erilaz sighed with fascination. "I would..."

"Studying warfare in your academy, even for one month, will let him learn so much," interrupted Brymir.

Erilaz turned towards him with his eyebrows narrowed. "Why can't I study civic relations? It's an important skill too."

"You study enough civic relations here," explained Brymir in a calming voice. "Thorleif will show you new subjects and more advanced techniques."

Erilaz opened his mouth to answer back but Brymir added, "You're already doing great at other subjects." His face expressed even more gentleness. "I just need you to improve your military knowledge, since it's your future..."

"Alright," said Erilaz with annoyance in his voice. He crossed his arms. "Sorry, Thorleif. Your offers were unnecessary, the choice was already made. When am I leaving?"

Clearly embarrassed by this situation, Thorleif averted his sight. "In three days," he informed.

Erilaz turned on his heel so quickly that his hair swirled around him. "I'm going to pack up my stuff," he muttered and marched away.

Brymir drooped his shoulders. He always had to put so much energy into convincing Erilaz to anything. Despite this, he wasn't angry. Erilaz was just a kid with moods and dreams and it was Brymir's role to guide him. Unluckily for Erilaz, Brymir took care of him overeagerly.

"Erilaz, you still think I want to spite you?" called Brymir, following his son with his helpless eyes.

Erilaz slowed down, still staring at the ground. Brymir trotted after him.

"I'm proud of you and your achievements," assured the king, "but you can be much better. You're clever and tough, you're able to be the best of them all."

Erilaz only gave him a snippy look. Brymir caught his son's arm and added, "I know it because you're my son."

Erilaz sighed and his furious expression became vacant. He didn't raise his eyes while too many mixed feelings teemed in him. He wanted to be Vardir because Brymir would praise him for that. That was the main reason why Erilaz felt any pride. He didn't care too much about his position, he just wanted appreciation not only from his father but also his friends, family and other officials. When Brymir told about his son's achievements, all attention focused on Erilaz and he could proudly get a round of applause.

Despite this, he didn't need the attention itself. He thirsted for an effusive demonstration of his father's love because small gestures weren't enough for him. He thought he didn't deserve it whenever he failed. Only the public affirmations let him know his self-worth. He knew he wasn't Brymir's biological son all along, and that caused his lack of trust in his adoptive father's feelings.

"Really? Are you sure?" He glanced at Brymir and added bitterly, "Will I be the best? Will my name be known in every corner of this planet? Or even further?"

"It's a sure thing," said Brymir. He took a strand of Erilaz's hair between his fingers and aligned the parting on his son's head. Erilaz ruffled his hair with his hand as if he wanted to show that he can take care of himself. He sighed, appeasing his nerves, and stared at Brymir.

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"One day the universe will hear about Vardir Erilaz," said Brymir.

Bjarni Arnorsson had less time to relax than Erilaz and Hefri. Helvetto seemed to completely snap out of the mourning and the casual crimes appeared again. After a day of browsing the documents and reading reports, he settled down on a soft armchair on his balcony and put his legs on a stool. The last official ended the conversation, so Arnorsson rolled the LiqBoard up and threw it on the coffee table.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the brisk mountain air, but before he breathed out, the LiqBoard beeped and lit up.

Arnorsson frowned and twisted his mouth. He grabbed the device like a harpy catching its prey and looked at the icon in the middle of the scroll.

He lifted his eyebrows. He never expected Thelrim to call him after work. Even though Arnorsson wasn’t obliged to respond now, that uncommon situation intrigued him. He unrolled the LiqBoard and accepted the call.

"Commander Arnorsson," Thelrim began, sitting at the table in his chamber, "I'm glad you responded."

"I responded... out of curiosity. Why do you want to meet with me?" asked Arnorsson, hiding his astonishment.

Thelrim raised a corner of his mouth. "I know it's weird," he said and his face returned to a blank expression, "but I have to ask you about a few things."

Arnorsson shrugged. "I have no idea how I can help you but okay."

"I heard about some..." Thelrim glanced behind and continued, "new ideas. I heard it from some less important but quite rich officials."

Arnorsson nodded. After a moment he raised his eyebrow because he heard things like that almost every day. Somebody thought or said something but ultimately, nothing came out of it."

"And?" he muttered, encouraging Thelrim to tell him more.

"It's nothing serious, I just want to know your opinion."

"On?"

Thelrim rested his chin on his hands. He glanced at the window and said, "I want to know if you support their opinion or if they're just a bunch of loonies."

Arnorsson tilted his head. "Okay..."

Thelrim sighed, trying to gather his thoughts. "See, we have similar backgrounds. We both came here from noble houses. We both wanted to be Vardir and we both failed."

Arnorsson scowled at him. "I didn't fail. I quit when I was ten."

Thelrim leant closer to the camera, looking into it suspiciously. "Willingly? Or because Hefri told you to?"

"She helped me understand that I'm better at giving orders than listening to them." Arnorsson shrugged. "So she recommended me to change my field of study and go into law enforcement. She said I will be better than anyone else there." He smiled victoriously. "She was right. Now I give the orders."

"Sure but don't you think that she bosses us around too much?" Thelrim pityingly shook his head. "After all, she came here from some village."

"Yeah, from the village, where she used to hunt some wild beasts," responded Arnorsson, narrowing his eyes. "By herself, before she was six... Anyways, what's your point, I'm busy right now," he blurted, spreading his arms.

"Well, that was my point." Thelrim looked around and asked almost in a whisper, "Are you alone?"

The expression on Arnorsson's face became more and more annoyed. He responded in an impatient voice, "Yes but..."

"Good. Not everyone likes the idea of village kids entering the royal ranks so I want to know your take on that. Don't you think that the place of the Vardir commanders was made for us?" Thelrim stared directly at the camera but his pointy ears with shiny earrings moved slowly, catching all background noises. "Us, like somebody whose family contributed to the development of this planet. At least that's how those officials see that."

I'm too sober for this, thought Arnorsson, sighing out of powerlessness. He corrected his awkward position on the armchair and took a deep breath. "There is no such thing as places made for us." He smiled to himself with a harsh snort. "That's one of the few things I like about this system."

Thelrim gazed at the ceiling, propping his head with his hand. "...maybe you're right?" he mumbled.

Arnorsson narrowed his eyes, his patience balancing on the very edge. "I hope that's all." He bared his teeth in an innocent smile. "I have to go."

Thelrim directed his thoughtful gaze at the camera again. "I guess I said what I had to say. I was just curious what others think about this idea." He giggled noiselessly. "I guess they're loonies indeed."

"That's right," said Arnorsson, acting as if that response was actually good for a laugh. "Goodbye," he added and hung up.

He hammered the screen with his finger, muting the device. His head pounded at the soft backrest and his hands fell on the armrest. He sighed through clenched teeth with hope that no one dares to disturb him again.

Before Thelrim finished his thought, the call ended. He shrugged. This whole story was made up but his intention was pretty close to the truth. He wanted to know Arnorsson's opinion because he needed an ally.

He tried to live normally after his encounter with Hefri but the grudge was too strong. Every time he saw his reflection in the mirror, window or the surface of water, the fury boiled in his veins. He hated himself because he feared his weaknesses.

Making life awkward for Hefri slowly turned into his obsession. The rational part of him told him to give in and focus on the future, but the animalistic rage didn't let him just forget about it. He was ashamed of it. He belonged to a royal family, he should have been above such a primitive need for revenge. Despite this, he saw no other way to get rid of the feeling that tormented him.

All his spite had its roots in the fear of losing an important person. Andvari's father, Imolvi Aldenarsson, died because Thelrim wasn't fast enough to stop Andvari and talk with him. To this day Thelrim believed that this case could have been solved more peacefully. Andvari always told him that there's no such a thing as "peaceful settlement" with people like Imolvi. Thelrim didn't want to listen to it. Imolvi appreciated him and that was all he cared about.

Thelrim was seventeen when his grade received the results of a recent exam. That was the most successful exam in his life so he marched across the corridors with his head held high. The pride in his eyes and his very short hair made him look much older and inspiring.

As he looked around to find some free space between the other students, he bumped against the Celestian in a brown coat.

"I'm so..." he began, raising his hands defensively.

"Nah, that's my fault..." muttered Imolvi, adjusting his long fur coat. Nodding slightly with approval, he added, "Congratulations on getting into the top five, you did good."

Thelrim smiled, and admiration twinkled in his eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Aldenarsson."

"Unlike my son," whispered Imolvi with resignation. "He didn't even make it to the top ten... He is strong but smacking faces is all he can do."

He walked away and only after a few seconds Andvari emerged from the crowd.

"Congrats. I guess you must be proud of yourself," he mumbled, giving Thelrim a quick, scornful glare.

Thelrim shrugged. "I have a reason to."

"I guess I'll never be good enough for him," hissed Andvari through his clenched teeth but Thelrim didn't hear that.

"What?" he asked, turning around, but Andvari blended in with the crowd again. Only his long, ginger hair flashed up between many different heads.