"What about heartbeats? Can you feel those?"

I smile against the warmth of the lowering sun, happy to answer the many questions from the men about my newfound powers. They've been watching my Pheonix fly high overhead, keeping watch over us and a mile or so radius. "Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?" Ezyrn asks. I glance at him and his hazel eyes, feeling how easily the natural breeze slips in between the strands of his loose ash-brown hair. It's nice to feel the wind without being the cause of its direction and force.

"I can feel your every breath, which in return will tell me the quickness of your heartbeat based on the quickness of your breathing. If you're breathing evenly then you're content. Quicker means either frightened or ready for an attack, slower means uncertainty and cautiousness, and so on. The speed, as well as the quality of air going into your lungs, will tell me what I need. But no, I cannot feel your heartbeat directly unless I use the element to push against your pulse."

Hassan who's got the long hair taps his horse into a trot to pull up beside Clarice. "And what of you? Can you feel our heartbeat?"

He asks his questions with such curiosity and respect for her that I can't help but feel proud of all of them. They've been kind and welcoming to her and her company though it took them a few moments before their tension left their body. They didn't know how to talk to her at first, as they very well know of her past and the abilities she had, and the names she carried. They were anxious, scared that if they said the wrong thing the Ebony Nightingale would come out and murder them coldly. Once they realized that she wouldn't hurt them, they began asking their questions and leaning in towards her to hear her answers. They no longer keep their horses at a distance, letting the animals walk as close or far as they please from each other.

She's grown more relaxed as well, and Gods and their Saints it's still so weird to feel her calmness without that slight threat of a killing machine beneath the surface. I used to feel the beast sleeping within her, now I feel nothing. It's unsettling, but a part of me knows that the beast is only sleeping deeper in its den, waiting to be awakened. I may not be able to feel it, but I can see it in her eyes.

There's still hope.

"It takes a moment, but yes, I can feel your heartbeats," she answers. Weylin and Arcane shift in their saddles behind us, and I can feel them start to force their breathing to be steady. "You see, there's water in your blood, and if I focus hard enough, I can feel it move in your veins and arteries all throughout your body. It takes a lot of energy and focus for me to even attempt to control your heart rate, but with more training, I may be able to one day do it without breaking a sweat."

I smile at the sudden paleness of Leal and Enver beside me. The hazel and amber-eyed brothers are so easily spooked, but they hold a sword well and plant their feet. They're good men, they just have a large capacity for fear.

"What does it feel like?" Diurin asks both of us. "Being able to sense the world around us, I mean."

Clarice and I share a look before she looks back at him. "It's...strange, but freeing, in a way. I mean I can feel every living thing within a mile of us without calling upon them directly. There's a family of bunnies over there-" she points west where the naked eye can see nothing, "-huddling together for warmth in their burrow. There's a pack of wolves looking for food behind us, but they're heading back to their home by the river. Oh, and the river itself is slowing its current with there being no rocks for the water to rush over. It's like seeing the world through a thousand eyes with half a thought."

"But it's not all wonderous," I comment.

"What do you mean?" Octavian questions. "How could seeing the world through a thousand eyes not be entirely wonderous?"

"Because though we feel life and every joy of it, we also feel death. We can feel when death is near, or when it's breathing down someone's neck or taking the breath right out of their lungs. We feel the absence of life where death has walked, and if the wind blows wrongly or stills or the sound of water suddenly becomes hollow and empty, we can feel life slip away to its call. We can feel your heartbeat slow and stop. We can hear the calls for help from the people that we cannot get to in time. Life is prosperous, yes, but it's only so because of the death that it's made from."

"The wolves caught a deer," Clarice says distantly, her eyes glazed and staring at empty space beneath her. "One holds its neck, another its legs as it kicks to try and set itself free. Its heart races and the pulse in its neck is slowly being pierced by the wolf's canines. The rest of the pack surround it now, and the deer's efforts to free itself are slowing...it's gone. The herd was only a half a mile away, but they're bolting southeast after sensing the danger."

The men all stare at her gaping, both amazed and horrified that she sensed such things. They're frightened of life lost miles from here, but for me it's normal. I felt the quickness of the doe's breath, the way it slowed until it stopped suddenly. I've felt such things many times in these passing days that it has had no effect on me, but hearing something like that described to you for the first time is alarming. It shows them the extent of our powers and the weight they hold.

"The powers have their ups and downs," I admit. "But the consequences and trials of them are worth it in the end when such abilities will help us in the near future."

"I don't know that I could bear such weight," Nikos confesses.

"Neither can I," Leal agrees.

"It's not so much as bearing it, per se, so much as it is accepting it," Clarice says. "Death is a part of life. It brings balance despite the fear. We will never be able to stop it from touching everyone and everything."

"But we will try to," I state. "It's the best we can do, and who knows? Maybe, just maybe, that will be enough to win this fight."

"Are you not afraid of death?"

I turn to Ezyrn and he instantly searches my eyes for any sign that he should fear for his own life. Lance's training comes in handy in times like these. I've learned to mask my true emotions better, but the trick is in telling truths within the lies.

"Of course I'm afraid of death, but that does not mean I cannot fight to keep it at bay for as long as possible. I have a choice, just as I always have. Either succumb to death and never again be able to live the life I want to, or fight it and ensure that I accomplish all that I can until I can no longer do that. To not fear death is impossible. It's normal to feel fear, the difference lies between succumbing to it, or conquering it to use it to your strength."

"You all told us of your families and friends," Clarice continues. "Just remember them and your reason for being here when it comes to holding your swords. They'll give you strength when your fear tries to claim you. Trust me, you'd be surprised at just how easy it is to forget your fear when you use your strengths."

Everyone, including myself, is staring at her in awe. They're likely surprised by her words and the truth in them, but I'm surprised that she sounds so much like her old self. The old Clarice would've said the same thing, if not something extremely similar.

Family is everything to her. She's lost so much of it that she refuses to let anyone else slip through her fingers. Heathens, she's even subconsciously keeping Wildred Maron, the man who killed two of her family members, alive. I still hate the fact that she is doing so, but there's not much I can do at the moment. I mean, I could probably set his body on fire from here and use the air element to keep everyone else away from him, but the water wolves are so unpredictable in their abilities that I'm sure they'll be able to save his stupid life somehow.

The men all bow their heads and lightly tug on the reins to slow their horse's pace. They fall back easily, mixing in with the Bhaltayr who pulls them into their debates and conversations. I smile at my friends, glad to have men like them who put people at ease.

Speaking of ease, I can feel my power begin to boil. I haven't used it the entire day, and there was little need for it last night. The more I train the bigger my capacity to hold more power I gain, but that doesn't mean I don't need to release a little here and there.

I roll out my shoulders and find the flowing, soft voice. With the snap of my fingers, a spark bursts to life and flares, reaching my phoenix above and tripling its size as soars. The beautiful bird burns to a blinding yellow, its happy cry ringing out for everyone to hear. They all look up, watching as it swoops and dives, its tail leaving white streaks behind it.

My breathing becomes easier as it sails over us. It's amazing how lively using my power makes me feel. My toes and fingers tingle with the sensation, my body easing into relaxation. I always feel peaceful, especially when the phoenix comes out to play.

"Víđarr, calm down." I look over at Clarice and find Víđarr bouncing on his toes as he looks up and follows the side to side gliding of my phoenix above. By the lively wag of his tail, I'd say he wants to play for a little while. "You could at least let me get down before you take off running."

The wolf doesn't seem to hear her, too focused up above. Clarice sighs annoyingly, but her smile at his happiness is hard to miss. She catches me staring and I blush before she looks back at her alpha who now turns his neck to look at her pleadingly.

"Fine." She turns to me again, an apologetic look on her face. "I don't suppose you'd mind if I jumped on with you and Melody for a bit?"

I feel my heart start to race and my lungs tighten, yet I still somehow manage to keep my voice even. "Of course not. Here."

I offer her my hand as Víđarr not so patiently hops over to Melody's side and grows a few inches so that they're the same height. She takes my hand and slips her foot into the stirrup I also offer her and then swings one leg awkwardly over Melody's back behind me. I let go of her hand once I'm sure she's safely sitting behind me. Víđarr doesn't even hesitate before sprinting through the Ginerva and up ahead to where my phoenix meets him.

It's odd, having made the phoenix yet not controlling it whatsoever. I could call it whenever I want for it to come to me, but I don't need to tell it to swoop below Víđarr's legs for it to do so. It flies on its own, twirling upside down and sideways. I'm so used to bending the flames that not doing so feels weird yet exhilarating.

"Have you named her yet?" Clarice asks over my shoulder. She watches Víđarr and the phoenix too.

"The phoenix?" She nods. "I suppose I haven't yet thought of it."

"What about...Kalla?"

"Kalla?" I watch my fire bird and her changing colored feathers. Such a simple name for a majestic creature, yet strong-willed and fierce for what she stands for.

"Or Antheia-"

"No. No, I like Kalla. It suits her."

We drift into silence as we continue on, the two alphas continuing their fun around us. The sun is still high, which means we have a while before we decide to make camp. The days feel like they're dragging on, yet somehow, they've passed so quickly. The cycles go by like a flash, passing in my mind like a blur. So much death already and the real fight hasn't begun yet.

The coming days bring me unease. I've attended balls and festivals with other royals present, but never as a King, and certainly not with so many royals and higher stakes. I sent the Ginerva to retrieve them. I asked them to put their trust in someone they barely know. I'm asking so much that when the Winter's Ball arrives, they'll be looking for any and all reasons to ignore my plea for help and aid. No ruler ever wants to side with another unless the alliance is strong.

Come three days' time, we'll all have to show a strong front. We'll have to look united and powerful, and I'm not just talking about the actual powers we possess. The magical abilities will be intriguing to them and their Courts, but seeing as we're fighting another magically powerful force, they'll want more than just light shows. They want to see unity, power in our steps, confidence in our shoulders, and bravery in our hearts. Good rulers can be cold just as they are fair and kind. The other rulers don't want banners and smiles, though it does help ease tension and insecurity. When we walk into the room, they'll want to see a King and the foreign Queen of lost land and people. Moreso than me, they'll want to find out what is so special about the Thralians and their rulers.

Royals are the pickiest and hardest to please people you'll ever meet. It's partially why I sent the Ginerva out. They'll spend time with the rulers, understand their likes and dislikes, and their ways of ruling. Having such insight will help me in convincing them to join us, and the fun part is, they'll only have rumors of me.

They won't trust Clarice, despite all that she's done. They know her as the Ebony Nightingale, a highly trained assassin who could've easily slipped into the Court to find a way to become the next Queen of Vandaria by overthrowing me and my family. Showing them that she truly means to fight alongside us and not sweep their kingdoms out from under them will be the hardest part. The memory wiping - as much as I hate to say it - will come in handy. They'll be suspicious, but they may give some leeway.

"You're planning something, aren't you?" I glance over at Clarice, somewhat having forgotten that she's saddled behind me.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're chewing on the inside of your lip, and your eyes keep squinting here and there when you're trying to put a piece of the puzzle together."

Do I really do that?

I take in my surroundings, wondering how long I've been doing it. No time has passed. The sun is still where it was, and the landmarks are still the same. I do, however, notice how the Ginerva rides further ahead and the Bhaltayr and sentinels further behind.

"Melody asked them for some space," Clarice answers, following my observations.

"What for?"

"Don't ask me. I can't even begin to understand the mind of my mother."

For Saint's sake, I have got to stop forgetting that Melody is Dawn reincarnated. You'd think it'd be a hard fact to forget, but it turns out it's all too easy to do so. Must have something to do with the Banevenin and the visits from Visha.

"Darius?"

"Hmm?" I wrangle my mind, trying to get it to stop being sidetracked by thinking and planning and overthinking.

"What are you thinking about?"

Oh, that's just peachy. Now my mind is nothing but empty space. "Umm..."

"Is it about the ball?"

"Yes," I answer, a little unsurely.

"Fear, nerves, or excitement?"

I turn in my saddle a little to look at her. She waits for my answer that I don't know how to give. How is it that she's so casual about this? I'm a mess up here, and she's perfectly content.

"What?" She asks, that blush tainting her cheeks again. The pinkness has a smile lifting my own cheeks.

"Nothing, I'm just...I'm worried - about the ball, I mean." She doesn't say anything, just waits to let me talk. "Eleven other kingdoms will be in attendance. I suppose I'm just worried about their lives and the safety of all including our own. It's a lot on our plate and Xaxias knows it. He's filling our hands with too much for us to hold so that he can take us all out with one swing. So not only do we have to protect them, but we have to get them to fight with us. It's just...it's a lot of pressure and a lot of responsibility."

"Yes, but it's not just your burdens to bear alone, Darius. You have the Bhaltayr who you've known forever, and the Ginerva who are loyal unto death to you. And you have me." She looks so small saying something that has so much of an impact. "I know my mind is a little jumbled and losing some parts, but that doesn't mean I'm useless."

"I'd never describe you as useless."

There's that blush again, and if I couldn't feel the swiftness of the natural breeze, I would've sworn the world has slowed in time just now.

"I only mean that you shouldn't fear so much for the future because you won't be facing it alone," she clarifies, glancing out at the open world. "We'll convince the kingdoms together to join us, and we'll take on Xaxias together, fight together, fall together. I'm sure there's so much to plan for the new moon, but we can figure that out later."

If only the new moon were further away, then I could let myself ease. "So what do we do now that we're leaving the planning for later?" I ask, suddenly looking forward to the near future.

Now she chews on her lip to think whilst looking around in search of an answer. "I'm not sure."

"Hm. I have an idea. Teach me Thralian."

"What?"

"I can't very well be a King of Thralia if I don't speak their language," I point out.

"I don't know Thralian," she says slowly as if the lie can't entirely get its way out.

"I thought you could understand the Ginerva when they speak it?"

"Understand, yes, but I don't know how to speak it."

I squint at her. "I don't think that's how it works."

"Most of my memory is gone, nothing is working as it usually does."

I hate how casually she'll mention her memory loss. It's as if it means nothing of much importance to her, but I know that she only mentions it casually so that others don't feel awkward mentioning it themselves. She's always so concerned about how others feel when the very worry is around her.

"Then I suppose we'll have to figure something else out," I suggest.

"Like what?"

Now I'm looking around for an answer. Maybe one day she'll teach me Thralian. I've kind of always envied her arsenal of languages she speaks. She could go anywhere and fit right into the culture. People would respect her as a visitor with her spot on accent and execution of their practices. I suppose that makes her dangerous, but I'm just in awe. No matter how hard I try I can't even get through learning one language.

"You're a good King, Darius," Clarice mumbles. I would turn to look at her questionably, but her cheek is settled against my back and her arms are wrapped around my waist loosely, her thumbs looped through the small waist belt loops of my coat.

I try not to lean too much into her, not wanting her to pull away or loosen her grip. Despite my ability to control warmth, she still somehow finds a way to make me feel as if I've been in the artic. "What makes you say that?"

"You tend to slouch when you're doubting yourself, and you should know that you're a good King." Saints she still reads me like a child's book. "And forcing yourself to sit up straight won't fool me."

I didn't even realize that I had straightened my back. I relax my back, slouching back into her. The closeness has me wanting to straighten back up again, but she doesn't move, so neither do I. "I wouldn't say-"

"I would."

"Why?" I push. My voice comes out harsher than I wanted it to, and I quickly strangle it back into check.

She doesn't answer for a moment which makes me nervous, but with the world around us so calm and...normal, that I don't worry.

"Because you're a good man with a good heart, and you don't wear the crown because it's your birthright or because you want it or because you're greedy for power. You don't like wearing the crown, you