Both the visitors of Frederick had rushed into his home instinctively, but they soon found a solution to the broken door in an instant. The scene of a feisty brawl, the interior of the tree had been cluttered. Tied to a spiralling middle log in the centre of the tree, a sin cultist had been captured. Frederick was ahead of him, his body scattered with cuts and bruises, oozing with blood. A knife in hand, Frederick had turned to see his visitors where he provided a small nod of acknowledgement, but he then returned to his victim.

"Fred, I think that's enough, don't you think?" Maxwell had observed several severed fingers across the floor. "Why not use some words?" He let the thought out in the open for Frederick who ignored him.

"Who sent you here? Which sin was it?" Asked Frederick.

"You may kill me, I am a mere pawn for her plan. You all are, you will all die." The cultist lifelessly chuckled out.

"A woman. That certainly narrows down who it may be that is behind all of this." Gathered Alister.

"Tell me more! Tell me now!" Exclaimed Frederick.

"Frederick Hirving. Alister Sinclair. Her targets are simple." The cultist laughed manically, his mouth dropping low and his face falling.

"What, me?" Replied Alister, slightly taken aback.

"Yes, you..." The cultist said, with his eyes drifting off to permanent closure.

"Ah for goodness sake! How didn't any of you spot that?" Scorned Frederick, his hand pulling out a small knife that was wedged in his victims back.

"Are you sure you didn't put that in him?" Suggested Maxwell.

"Enough! I need to clean this mess." Frederick grumbled out.

Frederick had disposed of the body shortly after, as he courageously tried to keep his home clean of impurities, but it was unlikely the blood of the body would leave the soaked-up wood of the tree. He had left his visitors alone, to excessively rid the bleaching blood but it was a struggle of a task to do. And this commotion had soon awoken a familiar resident of the treehouse, Thomas Titanius Junior, the only son to the legendary knight, Thomas Titanius.

"What was all that noise? Do people not know the time of day?" He yawned out as he walked into the room with a half-baked attitude.

Thomas was much like his father, having yellow locks of hair and brilliant blue eyes which were blessed with rich power. He was gifted but incredibly difficult to work with because of his intoxicated attitude which would often relish disgust from any company of his. He had a great amount of power though, which he was very lucky to have, but his constant addiction to drinking through the years had nullified his potential.

"Thomas, it is morning." Briskly said Alister - he was disappointed, but in no way surprised.

"You're speaking to me, yes? If you're looking for my father, forget it. He's gone remember? He's been gone for years, haha!" Thomas laughed sarcastically.

"It is you who I came to see. I am here on important business, so I need whatever attention you can lend me." Said Alister.

"This wouldn't happen to be about the smoke out in the city? Well, if it is. I can't help." Said Thomas.

"The smoke is the fault of sin cultists." Said Maxwell.

"Ah well, I'd love to help. But I can't. Isaac Rose won't allow me in the army and if I do help, he'll just find a way to ruin my name." Said Thomas.

"This is not about that situation. King Marielle has been missing for some time now, I am worried the new king is taking his temporary role too seriously." Said Alister nervously.

"Well, Al. You're worried, but why do you think I'd be? Why should I care?" Asked Thomas brusquely.

"Did you not hear what I have worries about? King Marielle is missing and has been for a while. Did he say anything to you before leaving?" Asked Alister.

"He probably did, but you can't unlock my mind. It's gone foggy." Said Thomas frustratedly.

"Oh, how convenient of you." Said Maxwell bitterly.

"Quiet, you should be out in the city, no?" Thomas rebuked fiercely.

"I...I'll go again soon. I have done a fair amount of work, my mana is restoring." Said Maxwell shyly.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Right, mana..." Said Thomas, his mind at thought.

"A pity you do not use your magic like Maxwell does, Thomas." Said Alister.

"Tsk." Thomas turned back to his room in annoyance. "I will find the King. Not for you though. This is of my own accord. After all, he is like an uncle to me." He added.

"That is good to hear. Perhaps you can spark your magic back to when it was something worth witnessing." Smiled Alister with confidence.

"Maybe I will. It hasn't been too long, I did capture Sloth recently." Said Thomas.

He had hastily walked off into his room, ready to pack for a journey to find the lost king of Bournington. Indeed, this task would be hard for a man so intertwined with his alcohol, but Thomas was smart to know not to bring any on his quest. The rest of his packing was fairly light, with only a few necessities going with him. This was no surprise for a man with such little place in life. His history was washed away by his drinking, but it had permanence in one aspect of his life. From his former days as an acclaimed beast hunter, Thomas had his outfit. Countless tales could be told from single pieces of his uniform, yet none could be recalled by Thomas himself for some stringent reason.

Still, Thomas had donned his former gear with pride. In fact, similar to the clothing of a knight’s, he had reinvented the uniform by making classy alterations. A teal blazer, for example, had a lightning bolt stitched to the front, finely carried out through gold fibres of thread. This had been his family emblem, which he cherished greatly. He had buttoned himself up and pressed firmly against the emblem with a smile that spoke to him of his youth. And finally, a sparkle twinkled against his eye. A sword fit for the destruction of desolate ruins and the death of fiery dragons had been firmly clasped on his back. So vividly clean yet bold, the piece had one minor drawback though. To Thomas' eyes, the blade lacked any energy. This, he knew, would be something to work on.

Whilst Thomas was preparing in his room, Alister and Maxwell had waited in patience. They were suspiciously silent as if something had daunted their minds to be riddled with thought.

"I suppose he isn't going to be alerted that Sloth has escaped Marlborough Prison anytime soon then?" Asked Maxwell, breaking the silence.

"There is no confirmation of that. Rumours. They spread quicker than a plague, so I would keep mouths shut to avoid spread." Said Alister.

"If it's true, then he won't be happy." Said Maxwell.

"If it's true then we have many, many worries for the future." Said Alister.

"I suppose so." Pondered Maxwell.

"Now, where was he last heard from, Alister?" Thomas had returned to the two in an instant.

"You're back so quickly!? And what is that uniform of yours?" Maxwell had compelled himself not to laugh.

"I pack light. And this is from my days as a beast hunter." Said Thomas, scratching his head.

"Ah yes, I forgot about that spell of work." Said Maxwell.

"You will need to go investigate Fenwick, Thomas. Quite a long journey for you to embark on." Said Alister.

"No need to worry about that. I still have Titan." Thomas said as he walked towards a dark cave of rock just aside the treehouse.

At the uttering of the name 'Titan', a magnificent beast opened two golden globes in the dark crevice, and it blasted a minor ball of fire from a large, round mouth. It walked on four legs and came closer to the group after a distinct whistle, allowing its vibrant red scales to fully be revealed. This was Titan, a diligent dragon. A gift that was once bestowed to Thomas by his father, Titan was smaller than most of his kind and he had features that feathered adorableness over aggressiveness. This was no problem for Thomas though. He had taken a liking to the dragon, at first sight, often taking great lengths to make sure it received tremendous treatment. He would constantly pamper the dragon with luxurious armour that would be made from the heart of the forest. This cover was made from a thick black bark that was not too harsh on the skin, but not too comfortable for Titan to relax.

"You still have her? She has not grown too well, has she?" Observed Alister.

"Al, your opinion doesn't count. You have never liked her." Said Thomas.

"Haha that's true Alister, you're not too good with anything with more or less than two legs." Laughed Maxwell in agreement.

"I do not see the need to form a bond with something like that. Betrayal could come at any second." Said Alister.

"There's no need to be so rigid, you've never had the chance to form a bond that's why you're so hostile." Said Maxwell.

"Enough you two, I'm off now. I have a long journey." Said Thomas as he gave his adieu.

He had left in a hurry, with his mind forgetting to acknowledge who else he was leaving behind. Alister and Maxwell seemingly accepted his brash leave, but Frederick had returned with a frantic pace of hopelessness clung to him. He had lifted out his hand, but his roommate of the treehouse had already set afoot in the skies.

"Where does he think he is going!?" Angrily said Frederick.

"Relax, Fred. He's gone to find King Marielle." Chuckled Maxwell.

"What!? He'll be gone for a long time though!" Said Frederick with impatience.

"Well, you don't exactly need him around, do you?" Asked Alister.

"I was thinking of making him my candidate for the Contest of Champions." Said Frederick bluntly, his eyes had sparkled at the sight of Alister. "Tell me, Al. Do you have a sponsor?" He asked.

"No, I do not." Said Alister, his eyes hopeful.

"Then, to undo the damage of Thomas leaving so soon, you will become my candidate." Said Frederick, a cunning grin stuck to him.

"Second choice for a guardian, that is how much I am valued. Very well." Sighed Alister.

"Good, good. How about you Max, who is your candidate?" Asked Frederick to his fellow guardian.

"I don't have one yet. I have a name in mind, but after today's events it might be difficult choosing them." Said Maxwell, his eyes cast over the city.

"Eh? Who's that then?" Asked Frederick.

"None of your business, Fred. I think it'll be good if I return to the city now." Grinned Maxwell, as he soared off into the distance.

"What!?" Frederick stamped his foot in awe. "He could have told us who it was!" He exclaimed.

Alister had stepped forward with a smile of excitement and hope.

"Alsop Dusseldorf." He thought.