– A few months before The Fall –

Mordred awaited her when she arrived at the capital's northern gates, escorted by two Holy Knights. A smile enlightened his features and made him look younger than his thoughtful eyes suggested.

"Ivy! It's so good to see you. It's been forever, hasn't it?" he said while dismounting his horse to greet her. Every movement of his adhered to a playful elegance.

Ivy shuffled her feet in preparation of the bow required among humans when facing a person of royal status – that she had practiced with painstaking vehemence about a million times –, and recited the words she had phrased and rephrased since departing from the Fairy King's Forest. "On behalf of the Fairy King, I congratulate you on the foundation of the Knights of the Round Table. He apologizes for being unable to follow your invitation himself."

A shadow crossed Mordred's face during her last words, peppered with a tension that might have been anger. Disappointment maybe? But he recovered his smile as quickly as it had disappeared.

"No need to be so formal," he said, his tone bar of the supposed anger.

Ivy sighed and released the tension from her shoulders. Mordred's grin widened. "Thank the heavens that's over and done with. I'm never gonna get used to all the ins and outs of court. I don't envy you at all for having to put up with this day in and day out."

Ivy followed Mordred through the wide-open gates and into the capital itself, where the street bustled with life and the scents of a hundred different goods on display. A man sold sugary cakes and candied fruits to noblemen with a coin to spare, roasted pigs and pheasants turned on spits, and wooden objects from tiny pendants to massive wardrobes created a tapestry that almost smelled like home. Where it not for the ghastly stank of horses attached to every stone and person. Mordred mercifully spared Ivy the journey towards the castle on a horse of her own, unlike his escort who followed with the three mounts at a respectful distance. He seemed quite comfortable with passing the streets on foot and observed clusters of chatty peasants, merchants following the call of daily business and children crossing the avenue in their wake, absorbed in a game of tag. A few of the passers-by acknowledged Mordred with a respectful bow, but most of them failed to recognize their crown prince amongst them.

"So, how is your father doing?" Mordred asked after repaying another display of respect with a friendly nod.

Ivy avoided his gaze by pretending to be captivated by a puppeteer performing a play of human folklore called The Fisher King, much to the delight of the crowd of children in front of him.

"It's the same as ever," she finally said, "the human villagers close to the Fairy King's Forest do their best to get a hold on the outer trees' wood. Probably to sell it on a market just like this. Dad is trying to negotiate with them. Thing is, they won't budge. Apparently, some bright mind claimed that wood from the Fairy King's Forest is infused with magical energy, and now everyone wants a piece of it. Are all humans this awful?"

"They're certainly short-sighted," Mordred allowed. "But with time and the right hand to guide them, I'm sure they can better themselves."

"One day you'll be that guiding hand for Camelot. Must be quite the responsibility."

Instead of addressing her point, Mordred looked at her puzzled. "You should know, considering you're the first heir to your father and will therefore rule over the Fairy Clan one day."

"Line of succession doesn't work that way with the Fairy Clan. Every Fairy King is chosen by the Sacred Tree and not by some arbitrary concept like blood relation. Only the one who deserves to be king will be granted the title to make sure the Fairy Clan will live in harmony. Plus, I hardly even count as half-Fairy. Not that I wanted that title anyway."

Mordred considered her words for a while, so Ivy used the silence to admire the architectural design of the great avenue which led all the way to the royal palace; a wide cobblestone road rising towards the central hill aligned with houses of similar style but with enough difference in color and design to avoid monotony. Detailed masonry decorated the fronts with Goddesses, Demons, and scenic landscapes. Usually, Cynthia was the one to be enthralled by anything human-made, but Ivy had to admit that the houses looked mesmerizing when all she was used to was the forest with its complete lack of buildings and planned layouts.

"I suppose this amount of responsibility doesn't suit everyone," Mordred said, and the sudden resumption of the topic caught Ivy off guard and almost made her stumble over a bump in the street. "But without someone willing to take matters into their hands, everything will decay sooner rather than later."

Faint bitterness had invaded his tone. Ivy shifted away from him and wondered if she had said something wrong.

"I'm sure you'll be up to the challenge," she said.

Mordred stared into the middle distance without seeming to have heard her.

:.:.:

Ivy leaned against the wooden fencing around the Holy Knight's training ground and tapped her foot to the sound of boredom. Mordred's new set of elitist swordsmen with the colorful name 'Knights of the Round Table' made for an intriguing bunch to watch, but the ongoing duel was so one-sided it lacked any resemblance of tension. Nashtar could have ended the fight minutes ago, if he hadn't found such enjoyment in playing with his opponent, a younger knight with brown locks and a blatant lack of ingenuity to his technique.

Nashtar circled his adversary with a superior grin before charging with a blunt uppercut that gave the younger knight an opening to strike at Nashtar's exposed left side. But the daring thrust proved ineffective against Nashtar's magical ability, and Nashtar fell his opponent with a quick but uninspired barrage of hits.

"Excellent work, Nashtar," Mordred praised his second-in-command and received a respectful dip of Nashtar's sword. "Orland, try putting more focus on your footwork next time. If you evade his hits long enough, you will tire him out. Use his strength against him instead of trying to block every hit."

As the next pair of fighters entered the ring to replace Nashtar and Orland, Mordred turned to Ivy with a smile and pointed at her Shrinking Bracelet which she spun around her wrists in endless loops. "Bored out of your mind already?"

Ivy straightened and brushed her dress back into shape. She preferred other types of clothing due to the restrictions a dress put on her movement, but since she paid an official visit to represent her father, she had thought Mordred might appreciate the gesture.

"Sorry about that. Guess I make for a pretty lousy guest," she said.

"Don't worry," Mordred reassured and directed part of his attention to the duel opened with a first, loud clash of swords. "A few months ago, I wouldn't have paid mind to those military practices either. In fact, I used to despise training so much I almost quit on it. Things have changed though…"

Ivy couldn't think of all that many things Mordred could refer to when talking about change. With the exception of Lance, who had moved to Liones to start training as a Holy Knight, nothing back home had changed. Even the passing of the seasons left the leaves of the Fairy King's Forest in the ever same lush green. They certainly didn't care about Lance's departure. His decision was devoid of logic. It seemed as though some kind of fast-spreading infection made everyone interested in a future as a warmongering swordsman.

But Ivy felt no desire to share her thoughts on the matter. "Before you'll know it, you'll be manning up, Mordred," she said, before continuing in a more serious tone. "But really, you've created something on your own with the Knights of the Round Table, something to be proud of. That's more than what I've given you credit for."

Mordred's eyes widened before the warmth of gratitude charmed his features, and the sounds of clashing metal, gruff breaths from the two combatants, and the occasional roars from the bystanders replaced their conversation. The duel ended when the smaller, more agile knight swept his opponent's legs from under him.

"Sweet victory," the triumphant knight – Mordred had introduced him as Mark – said and collected the cheers from the crowd with the winning smile of an entertainer. "I hope I'll get to roll against Errin next time, these competitions are sorely lacking in a decent challenge. Still got a score with her to settle."

Ivy straightened and looked over the rows of Holy Knights. But the face she was looking for, wasn't among them. "Speaking of, whereisErrin? I'm surprised she isn't running circles around you in an attempt to get your attention."

Mordred made a face as if he had crossed path with something extremely unpleasant. "Errin… declined my offer to be part of the Knights of the Round Table. She is running patrols around Camelot's borders and should be away for a while. She asked for the mission herself. If she wants to turn her back on me, then fine, so be it. I'm not going to stop her. And if the future of Camelot is little more than a worthless chore on her mind, she is free to go and do what she pleases. I'll be happy to never hear of her again!"

Anger had propelled his voice into a rant just shy of screaming. The dark sea of his iris had frozen, a bitter-cold glacier under a tormented sky where Errin had no place. But then, as if a switch had been turned in his emotional center, Mordred turned to Ivy with another genuine smile.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're here, Ivy," he said. "It means a lot to me. More than I can put into words and more than what I've given you credit for."

Appalled by the sudden shift in tone, Ivy was unable to think of a response and avoided his gaze and the hand resting on the fence, so close to her own.

One month until The Fall of Liones.

In one month, Mordred would repeat history and destroy the most powerful individuals in Britannia, or his reign would end before it had begun. In one month, fate would be decided and the victor would mourn the loss of the dead.

Before then, Errin would have to cook up a plan that prevented Mordred's death at the hands of one of her fellow travelers. With the lackluster effects the demise of the Colossai had had on The Fall, they had to be more willing than ever to deal with the core of the problem and dispose of the threat for good. Ivy in particular.

Errin puffed out a shaky breath. How could she condemn Ivy's reasoning as overly emotional? Ivy needed to save her younger siblings. They were the primary reason for her to keep going.

Gaius would approach the dilemma matter-of-factly and deem Mordred's death as the simplest and most efficient way to prevent the death of the Sins. And Lance… Lance had looked at Aura with a love that could not be betrayed. Ivy, Aura, they all were his family. With a stich more painful than she admitted to herself, Errin wrote off his support.

She needed time to approach Mordred alone. In Camelot, half a world away, he was grieving the death of his father while she staggered through the crowded streets of Liones. Maybe the darkness had yet to claw its fangs into his heart, waited in the shadows around him. If Errin could be with him, if she had been alongside him to help him through this one sorrowful month tempting him with the promises of a simpler tomorrow back when she had had the chance to, all this could have been avoided. But Errin had delved into her duties as a Holy Knight and had left Camelot for the longest possible patrol missions to get as far away from the city's shadows. The one time Mordred had depended on her rather than the other way around, and she had failed him.

Ivy and Lance might have failed to protect their families, but Errin had her own wrongs to right. As soon as they found the others, she would ask Gaius to teleport her to Camelot. If need be, she would go there by foot.

Unfortunately, her determination was stronger than her battered lungs, and Errin wheezed heavily soon after she dragged Lance and Ivy away from the latter's siblings. She craved for oxygen, and each step required tremendous amount of willpower to take. White spots took shape in her peripheral vision. Lance shot her a worried glance, but she chose to ignore him. Katrina would hopefully heal her wounds before her body shut down.

"Errin? Errin, are you okay?" The alarmed voice belonged to Lance, but Errin struggled to identify his face against the ghostly features of the surrounding crowd. All of them blurred together.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, but the motion did nothing to chase away the white spots sprouting like mushrooms. "Don't pass out on me now! Crap, I think she's losing consciousness." Shuffling sounds, more white spots. "Ivy, keep her stabilized while I go look for Katrina."

"I can search for her, and you stay with Errin."

"You're injured, and you probably have a concussion, so you don't know what you're talking about. Remember, Howzer left me in charge." A growl, hurried footsteps.

Errin's limited view tilted, but a strong arm prevented her from toppling over. "I got you. Just do me a favor and stay with me until I get you out of the bulk of townsfolk." The arm held like a railing in front of Errin kept her somewhat in place and allowed her to take a handful of slow steps into the direction towards which she was pushed from behind.

Waves of heat and cold rocked her body, and her vision quit on her. The murmurs of the crowd rung in her ears. When she was convinced to throw up the next second, she was pushed down to sit on something wooden. Ivy – at least Errin imagined it had to be Ivy – directed Errin's head backwards to provide her brain with more oxygen, and the blue of the sky filtered through her fluttering eyelids.

"Stay put and try to focus on breathing," Ivy said. Too exhausted to argue, Errin did as instructed, pulled in air, and released her breath just as slowly. The spinning of her head faltered a little.

"I guess Nashtar hit you harder than you wanted to admit. And here I thought Lance was the stubborn one." Ivy's voice sounded distant, but not distant enough to block her words out. "If you hadn't stood up for us, I guess we wouldn't have lasted long enough to be pulled out by Gaius. It was pretty close already, wasn't it?" Ivy sighed. "I always wondered why you avoided me so much. You always pushed everyone away who tried to approach you, like you didn't want to get close to anyone. Like you didn't care. And all I wanted was someone who'd go ahead and approach me with an open mindset."

Ivy's voice had become small. "Mordred was like that, you know? He didn't see me as someone different, he just saw me as… me. Who I was as a person. Not like an abnormal freak. I know why you want to believe that this side of him is still there. But you didn't see this cold detachment in his eyes when he executed my siblings. My mom. My dad…" She trailed off. Maybe she believed Errin had fallen too deep into delirium and had long stopped listening.

"You want to save your siblings and parents," Errin said in spite of her sluggish tongue. "I want to save Mordred. It's the same thing."

Ivy scoffed. "I'm having a hard time believing that. I'm gonna be honest with you, Errin: If I get the chance to kill Mordred, I will. Without thinking twice."

"And you know that I'll stop you when you try."

Errin and Ivy refrained from exchanging another word and passed the time in silence. The rift separating them was too deep and too wide to be bridged by a single conversation, and neither would step back from the vows they had made towards those they needed to protect. Though Errin had to admit that the seed of doubt had long sprouted in her mind. When she had seen Mordred enter the courtyard with the gaze of a man she didn't know while she was planted on the ground, a part of her – the part she wanted, needed to silence – had begun to fear him and who he had become.

The sound of multiple pairs of feet crashing down on the cobblestone jolted Errin out of her thoughts and motivated her to open her eyes despite the fear of vertigo hijacking her senses.

All worries and sense of self-preservation were pushed into the background as she recognized Katrina hurrying down the street, flanked by Lance and Gaius. She was unhurt, and her face missed the signs of debilitation that followed her endeavors with the Time Crystal. In fact, Katrina looked oddly composed and confident as she scurried forward.

Ivy abandoned her seat on the bench beside Errin to rush towards the trio. "Katrina, is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, you and Errin are the ones who got hurt. Gaius already filled me in on the details." Ivy raised a brow and exchanged a look of with Lance. But he had no idea from where Katrina took her newfound strength either.

Katrina used the stunned silence to position herself in front of Errin, both palms outstretched, her brows furrowed. "Please hold still," she said in the same tone that allowed no debate she had addressed Ivy with.

Light spread from Katrina's fingertips into a glowing sphere, and as soon as the magic touched Errin's chest, she was treated to a feeling of warmth and wholeness. She drew in a sharp breath as the broken bones of her ribcage reassembled themselves and was surprised by the ease with which she could fill her lungs with air. Not a semblance of phantom pain remained to remind of the dire injury that had caused her such trouble a mere moment ago. She shifted her arms and torso to test the limits of her healed body, and found them to work as good as new.

When Katrina was convinced of the success of her work, she moved on to treat Ivy with the same healing spell. Errin had no idea how costly the usage of this kind of magic was – she imagined the price tag to be beyond considerable –, but Katrina didn't so much as pale after performing the spell twice. Instead, she flashed Gaius an open smile that he reciprocated. He looked like a normal kid with emotions rather than book knowledge in his veins. That was a first.

"When did you get so phenomenal with Goddess magic?" Lance asked.

Katrina averted her gaze on account of the compliment and fell back into her shy persona. "I'm not exactly sure, but I think it happened when I managed to regain control over my Demon magic; the two sides must be linked in some way. It's all thanks to Zeldris."

"The Zeldris?! As in Ten Commandment slash Demon King Zeldris?!"

"Without his help, I would have been trapped in the Demon Realm by now. I owe him so much" Katrina said. "I just wish I had the chance to get to know him better…"

Errin couldn't claim to have any desire to cross paths with the Demon King – and based on the appalled looks Lance and Ivy threw Katrina, they shared her resentment. Zeldris' name was not held in fond memories in Camelot after he destroyed the capital and played a key-role in the temporary death of Arthur twenty-five years ago. To say Errin disdained him would be an understatement. Katrina was a gentle soul, but her attachment towards a man associated with death and destruction in his early days disregarded all reason.

But then again, who was Errin to judge?

Despite the bright sky outside, the tavern they had sought refuge in was wrapped in a dim light best fit for a merchant's shady business. And if the hushed voices from the pair two tables across accounted for anything, the establishment had gained a reputation to provide exactly that kind of privacy. The ideal place for a group of teens to conspire against the future king of Camelot.

"Anyone any bright ideas?" Lance addressed the round, but as a response he merely received averted gazes and the sound of feet being shuffled under the table. As to be expected. "Okay, then let me give you some of the most obvious options we have at our disposal and see where we can go from there."

Since no one wanted to throw in their discontent, Lance continued. "First off: We involve adults, either the Sins or the Holy Knights stationed in Liones. I know we wanted to avoid that and we'd have a lot of convincing to do, but in the worst-case scenario I'm willing to get back to this option." At this point, Lance would gladly endure a week's worth of scolding from his parents to no longer feel like he was treading on the same spot. "Second: We walk to Camelot and straight to Mordred and take care of him while he doesn't have an army to support him. If we do it right, we can avoid further encounters with the Round Table."

Lance avoided the specifics on how they would 'take care' of Mordred on purpose, but Errin's expression darkened to match the gloomy wall behind her all the same. He wasn't the biggest fan of plan number two either, but their options had been running short ever since they had set foot outside the Boar Hat. And if he knew Ivy one bit, Lance could count on her willingness to pursue this course of action.

"Third," he continued, "we find out what dark magic allowed Mordred to overcome the defenses of Liones this time around and focus our efforts on dealing with that force as supposed to Mordred himself."

All in all, Lance preferred this method over the other ones, but he had to admit it was the one with the lowest probability of success. Eradicating the Colossai before Mordred had the chance to use them had done nothing to prevent the death of the Sins. How high was the chance that they would run into the same problem again? Plus, Lance had no idea where to begin searching for information. What little he had observed during the newest variation of The Fall had revealed nothing out of the ordinary. No Colossai, no Demon army, and no revived Tyrant Dragon to match Camelot's crest. Mordred and the Knights of the Round Table had mowed down Liones' defenses with the same ease a Black Hound overwhelmed a family of unsuspecting rabbits.

"So, thoughts?"

"When looking at the other side's capabilities as well as our own with the needed objectivity, we would be best served to proceed with option number two," Gaius said and let the quill he used to take notes on every piece of knowledge worth remembering perform artistic maneuvers between his fingers. "From our past discoveries, we can deduct that Mordred is the core where the strings run together, meaning that he is the one who the execution of The Fall depends on. Once he falls out of the equation, The Fall will no longer happen."

"But there are other ways, right? Ways that don't involve murder…" Katrina said. Disheartened, she slumped in her chair and disappeared behind her bowl of steaming soup. She hadn't touched the food once, and Ivy had spent the better part of the conversation eyeing the bowl's unidentifiable, mashed-together contents.

Lance was sure the tavern owner had rooked them; in no world did Errin's silver coins equal two portions of the place's cheapest soup. But since he couldn't convert Camelot's currency into Liones' thaler without fail, he had let the scam slide. The other place they had tried their luck with had showed even more apprehension towards anything linked to Camelot. The premature death of the country's king didn't exactly boat well for the trust others had in its economy or currency.

"Probably, but I have no idea how we could take him into custody," Lance answered Katrina's question once he tore himself from the soup dilemma. "For now, he still is the heir to the Camelotian throne, and he hasn't committed any crimes yet. It's difficult to arrest someone for treason against the crown when they are the crown."

"Can we get back to option three then?" Errin asked and set her spoon aside; the soup didn't seem to taste to her liking. Not that Lance was surprised.

Ivy freed her gaze from Errin's abandoned broth of chicken and chanterelle – if one chose to believe the menu on the matter – and returned her focus to the discussion at hand. "If you got any information that could help, I'm all ears. Because to me, it looked like Mordred only needed his loyal division of idiots."

"I must admit that I was on unable to collect any helpful evidence as well," Gaius said. "I considered the possibility of a widespread working of «Enslavement of the Dead» that would have enlarged Mordred's forces, but there is little support behind the theory."

"Now that would have just been creepy." Creepy enough that Gaius had thought about this forsaken Druid technique used to resurrect corpses. Gross.

"Does Mordred have any ties to the Druid Clan? Has he ever visited Istar?" Gaius asked and looked up from his book long enough to signal to Errin that the question was meant for her.

She shook her head. "Not as far as I know. But I didn't stay with him long after the funeral, so I don't know what he was up to after that."

"So we're at another dead end," Lance said with a sigh. "Katrina, do me a favor and eat your soup while it's warm. You already look like you'll catch a cold, so don't push your luck on this."

How anyone could catch a cold in the middle of summer was beyond Lance, but wherever Katrina had gone during her solo adventure, it couldn't have been all that cozy. When Lance had run into her and Gaius, remnants of melting snowflakes had stuck in her hair, not to mention the water-soaked state of her dress and shoes. And if Katrina had no interest in the only meal she would get in who-knew-how-long, she could at least hand the bowl to Ivy to brighten her spirits.

"Could Mordred have used a spell that strengthened his men?" Katrina asked after she gulped down one spoonful of soup and then pushed the bowl towards Ivy.

"Certainly, the possibilities are nearly endless," Gaius answered. He declined Ivy's silent offer of a share of the soup with a handwave. "Without any leads to work with, however, it will be difficult to narrow down the variables to something comprehensible."

"It seems you've all already decided on option number two." Errin shifted in her chair, eager to get up and leave.

The problem was that Lance had nothing to say that could appease her. He didn't want Mordred to die, but he was willing to make the sacrifice, with his own hands if necessary. Better he did it than any of the others. Even Ivy, no matter how often she denied the truth, would forever be haunted if she was forced to pay the price for her family's lives in blood.

"Errin, I won't ask you to continue fighting if you don't want to," Lance said. "To be honest, all of this is laughably far over our heads. We don't have a real plan or particular combat experience to show for. From the very beginning, we had nothing but a goal in mind, and, somehow, that brought us this far. We stumble more than we walk. Our goals don't align, I get that. If I knew a way to change this, you can bet that I would go there. But I'm asking for your help regardless of our disagreements and our differences. Because we need you, Errin, we need you if we want to have any chance at winning this. You've seen Helbram and Cynthia and Aura back there – they will die if we don't win this."

Errin bit her lips. Her gaze met Lance's, and the conflict behind her eyes showed through. A war between her loyalty to Mordred and her bond with these younger misfits who she had travelled with for the past weeks. Lance had meant what he had said about needing her; he owed Aura to go to any lengths in order to protect her, but his abilities had neared their limits.

He didn't spoke the word 'please' out loud, but he knew it was written in his face.

"I'll go with you," Errin said, but avoided their gazes as she spoke. "For as long as it serves me. Which means I need confirmation that all of you will try to save Mordred just as much as the others. If you can't agree to this term, I'll stand against you without hesitation."

Katrina almost jumped out of her chair, and her beam pushed back the dimness of the room. "We'll do our best to prevent Mordred from going down this path, I promise."

Gaius and Ivy seemed far less enthusiastic about the conditions of their treaty, but they nodded in agreement. Lance's muscles relaxed as a ton worth of worries was lifted from his chest. For the moment, the problem with Errin was solved, and he wouldn't have to keep his eyes open for the moment she would leave the group to go about her business unsupervised.

Errin hadn't given up Mordred yet. Maybe she never would. But she had taken a crucial step to untie the bonds chaining her to this man's darkness that held the power to pull her down with him.

:.:.:

The last sunrays glistened behind the chimneys and merlons of Liones, and with the light, the people disappeared from the street. And while Lance watched the last citizens scurry home past the abandoned royal safehouse, he wondered why he was surprised that Ivy refused to abandon her distrust towards all matters concerning Errin and Mordred.

"Do you really think she'll play along while we wage war against the single individual that matters more to her than anyone else?" she asked and searched for the truth in Lance's expression. He never dared to hope she wouldn't find the answer; he was as easy to read as a capital-lettered banner made for Giants.

"I guess it's more that I hope she does," Lance answered and offered Ivy the free space on the wide sill hugging the bottom frame of the window. "You and I are at best decent when it comes to fighting, especially if we can't make use of our magical abilities. No doubt that Gaius could chant something out of his pockets, but for all his knowledge, he lacks a healthy dose of initiative. And the farther we can keep Katrina away from any fighting the better."

Ivy sat down opposite from him and hugged her knees. "I don't know, she seemed pretty steeled after going solo with the Time Crystal. But I get what you mean, she couldn't kill someone even if her life depended on it."

"Could you?" The question was cruel, and as soon as the words escaped his lips, Lance no longer wanted to know the answer.

"I don't know," Ivy said. "I thought that now that I've seen people die I could, but I've only fought against Holy Knights I met once or twice at most. Mordred will be different – and I'm not sure if this makes it harder or easier. I don't know if I can watch someone's eyes go dull without feeling anything. I don't know if I can handle the face of a dead man following me wherever I go. Even if it will be a monster like Mordred. How do you live with it?"

"I try not to think about it."

Ivy nodded and let her eyes travel to the street on the other side of the milky glass. Lance had suggested to use the safehouse as a place to rest before the tedious journey to Camelot tomorrow, and with the exhaustion the group faced, no one had voiced complaints. Katrina had dropped into her assigned bed on the upper floor, asleep before she could bother with the covers.

Lost in thought, Ivy traced spirals and vines across the glass. "What if we could change Mordred? What if he can't see the errors of his ways and only needs a guiding hand to make him see that he can be better than the monster I see in him?"

"I would love to believe that. It would make the world so much easier. But if I hold onto my illusions, I won't have the strength when push comes to shove. You of all people have seen what he is capable of."

"I know, I know. But I keep thinking about what you said at the destroyed tower in Camlann. That I have to make the first step if I wish the Giants to change their ways."

Lance leaned forward and caught Ivy's restless hand to make her look at him. "Ivy, Mordred isn't like the Giant Clan. He isn't like the Colossai. No higher might he had no control over pushed him into this or that direction. And he definitely isn't your responsibility. If you want to change the Giant Clan for the better, I'm with you all the way. But I don't want you to bury yourself in a rescue mission that you don't believe in. Not because of anything Errin said, and definitely not because of something I said. Okay?"

Ivy had stared at Lance with the wide eyes of a cornered deer, but after he ended, a hesitant smile at last broke the stiffness. "Okay."

Lance released a breath. "What do you want to do now?"

"I'm gonna go to the palace to prevent Howzer from getting a heart attack, but I'll sneak back out again as soon as I can. Maybe I can manage a detour into the palace kitchen," Ivy said and jumped to her feet. The last rays of sun painted her hair an intense shade of red. "What do you say, care to join? They probably missed you more than me."

He was tempted. A few hours with his cousins without his thoughts dragged down by what was to come sounded like heaven on earth. He could hear Aura laugh. But once Lance gave in to the illusion of normalcy, nothing would convince him to leave.

"Say hi to them for me. I'll be here when you get back."

Based on her small smile, Ivy had seen through his thought process. "I'll make sure to tell Howzer you send me."

Then she was out the door and left Lance alone with the wandering thoughts that returned once the weak grin had faded from his lips.

The next morning arrived far too early for Katrina's liking.

As much as her encounter with her uncle had helped her sort her thoughts and regain some semblance of control, her resources of magic power had limits, and jumping through time three times in less than a day was a costly chore. She regretted rejecting the tasteless soup from yesterday. The meal would have provided counter to the emptiness in her stomach.

The constant rumoring banished the urge to indulge in the warmth of her bed, and Katrina toddled down the wide staircase to the street-level floor. The green-patterned wallpaper and the plaster below peeled from the wall, and most steps creaked when she placed a foot on them. Apart from Katrina and those few she had dragged along in the past, no one bothered to come to the safehouse, and maintenance was long overdue.

A pleasant warmth filled Katrina's chest. Long ago, she and Cynthia had hidden here and skimmed through a richly illustrated volume her best friend had purloined from the palace library. Cynthia had oohed and aahed at every drawing of a human castle, palace, or tower, daydreaming about a life in one of these esteemed places. As sisters of mind, they had promised to keep each other's secrets, and Katrina had enjoyed these few shared hours more than the days spent with other children her age.

Her mind circled to Tristan all on its own. Would he have hidden in the safehouse with her instead of Cynthia? Would Katrina have entrusted him with her secrets and insecurities? How strange to reminisce about a brother she had never met, who had died before he could develop complex emotions, quirks, and character traits.

Katrina stopped, and her foot hovered over the bottom step, surprised to find the single day room occupied. Gaius, Ivy, and Lance bent over the single, dust-covered table to inspect an object she failed to get a solid view on. Errin, meanwhile, had put on a stoic mask and watched the commotion unfold from her space in the corner between a stack of empty wooden boxes and the poor remains of a fireplace.

She noticed Katrina's arrival first. "How do you feel? Do you think you got enough sleep for the upcoming journey?" she asked, and a sliver of warmth broke through her indifferent expression.

"I think so. I didn't know all of you were already awake…"

"We wanted to let you sleep in longer to make sure you get to cure your Time Crystal exhaustion," Lance explained before gesturing at the table. "Gaius came up with an idea that might help us with the next steps."

Her curiosity spiked, and Katrina closed in on the table for a better look at what Lance and Gaius kept pointing at. The object of interest revealed itself as Gaius' beloved notebook, opened at a double page showing a hand-drawn map of Britannia, complete with kingdoms, mountain ranges, and other landmarks. The fine ink lines were placed with a precision to match the works of the most revered map artists. Katrina couldn't help but wonder how many evenings Gaius had worked on the drawing, hunched over a mountain of maps in the light of a flickering candle.

"I reconsidered everything I knew about Mordred, and came across a detail that I thought had the potential to be of importance," Gaius began in his familiar lecture tone. "Even before the death of the King of Camelot, Mordred had displayed a certain interest in magic arts and had sought knowledge from Merlin and a variety of written sources. Errin confirmed as much. We also know that he left the capital on multiple occasions in the month between the king's funeral and The Fall of Liones, which leaves me to assume that he came across information about the Colossai on one of these expeditions. It must be noted that sources on anything related to the Colossai are sparse, and even Merlin's studies only mention them in passing if at all. There are, however, places in which older knowledge has persisted."

"Like Istar?" Katrina suggested.

"Or the underground library of Benwick," Lance threw in and pointed at a marker south of Edinburgh that had since been swallowed by the great expansion of Camelot.

Gaius nodded. "I cogitated about both options, but there is one location that fits Mordred's needs better and is easier to reach." With these words, Gaius let his index finger hover next to an emblem for a town in the far south where Britannia's landmass narrowed to a westward pointing spit.

The text below the emblem read 'Ruins of Belialuin'.

"My memory might be playing tricks on me, but wasn't Belialuin destroyed down to its foundation walls?" Ivy asked and eyed Gaius like one would a becoming madman.

"That is largely correct, the city was razed to the ground by the combined forces of the Demon King and the Supreme Deity three millennia ago, and with the destruction of the city, most of its scriptures were sadly lost," Gaius said. "One of Merlin's writings, however, suggests the survival of a handful of texts in a disclosed facility somewhere in the city's ruins. My theory is that Mordred found this facility and read about the Colossai and the location of their seal there. Otherwise, I don't see how he could have obtained the necessary information to plan and carry out his attack on Liones."

"I never heard Mordred mention Belialuin, but he did have a weakness for ancient and spectacular stories," Errin said, and a veil of nostalgia crossed her face.

"If we can get to Belialuin before Mordred gets there, we can prevent him from finding the material he used to conquer Liones!" Katrina said. She had sworn to help Errin no matter the cost, and Gaius' theory might hold the missing piece to turn their wish into reality.

But Ivy was quick to pour the salt of negativity all over Katrina's excitement. "Assuming he used information from there other than where to find the Colossai. We don't even know what it is we're looking for or if the rumor about some secret dungeon of knowledge is true at all."

"Hate to break it to you, Gaius, but Ivy has a point here," Lance said, but his apologetic look targeted Errin more so than Gaius. "We only have one month until The Fall, and focusing our efforts at Mordred just seems like the safer bet to me. I would prefer to avoid using the Time Crystal to undo detours that cost us nothing but time."

Katrina raised her chin. "I can handle the Time Crystal just fine. You don't have to worry about me for a change."

"Hey, I have all the faith in you one could ask for," Lance reassured, "but we've been relying on that thing too much lately. Remember what Gowther said about avoiding to use it? 'Cause I do, and I don't like the sound of it one bit."

"If you keep insisting that we don't have enough time to pursue both options, then why don't we split up?"

All heads turned towards Errin's corner of the room, everyone with a different reaction plastered onto their face. Ivy's features bore mild surprise, Lance looked fed up with this world, and Gaius' eyes had lit up with a glimmer of hope.

They would maximize their winning chances, wouldn't they? Not only could they make sure that The Fall wouldn't come to pass, but they might just manage to save Mordred along the way. "I think it's a great idea," Katrina said and earned herself an appreciative nod from Errin.

"No, it's not, and you should all know better," Lance cut in. "Every time we split up, bad things happen. What do you think why the Sins lost in the first place? We all know how capable they are and how limitless their magic resources seem. Mordred could have never beaten them if they had stood against him as a group. No, Mordred won because they split up without a solid strategy."

"You said you would save Mordred the same way you would save the Sins," Errin reminded.

"I know what I said. But we'll cut into our own foot if we split our efforts."

"Where's the harm in letting Gaius and Katrina go to Belialuin where they won't have to face Holy Knights or Mordred?"

"Gaius can't protect Katrina!"

Katrina had never seen Lance lose his calm, and she wished this to be the first and only time. When they reached a dead end, he was the one to remind the group to approach matters with a collected mindset and inspect all options with equal care. This wasn't him, but a version that was beyond conflicted about giving matters into someone else's hands. Lance was afraid. Afraid to lose another person he cared about, afraid to risk a repetition of The Fall, all visible in his defensive stance and his widened pupils that spoke of the horror he had seen and that he could not allow to strike again.

And while Katrina could emphasize with him, the had no right to judge Gaius' capabilities – or hers. "I don't need an escort to be safe anymore," Katrina said, hoping to sound a tad more convincing than she felt. Her powers didn't scare her like they used to, but she had yet to master them. But if Lance needed reassurance, she would offer him reassurance, regardless of the inner turmoil that had never set her free.

Ivy put a hand on Lance's arm, and more than any word, the silent gesture drove back the fear from his eyes.

"Sorry, Gaius, didn't mean to call your skills into question like that," Lance said. "I snapped just because I'm tired and worried and emotionally drained, and I'm sorry for letting it out on you."

"Does this mean you'll allow Gaius and me to go to Belialuin?" Katrina asked.

Lance gave her a pained smile. "I can't really stop you if this is what you want. Just… be careful."

When Katrina shot Gaius a glance, his face shone. Belialuin had to represent a sacred site to someone so enamored with knowledge and magic, and the opportunity to see this place of legend with his own eyes had to be the best news he had received in a long time. His excitement was… childlike. Katrina had never seen Gaius this mirthful, not even when he had inspected a magic object of mysterious origin in previous days.

"Errin, you'll be with us in Camelot then?" Ivy asked, but from the sound of it, she knew the answer.

"To prevent you two from doing something regrettable if nothing else."

They had details and specifics to discuss, but Katrina linked herself out of the conversation, convinced the rest had no further need for her input. Her thoughts began to wander outside the confinements of the room, and the anxiousness and ecstasy of travelling to the borders of Britannia to the former capital of wizards and magicians filled her like a meal of fantastic taste that was too much for her to swallow. She had never wished to part from Ivy, Lance, and Errin, and what she had seen done to them by Nashtar haunted her thoughts as the second most horrid experience of her life. But at the same time, she looked forward to the journey to Belialuin and the challenges that awaited them in the ruins of a civilization revered for their knowledge about magic. If Katrina concentrated, she heard the faint whispers of these wizards, promises of answers, and the hope to grow beyond the scared girl in need of saving.

Katrina blinked as she realized the sounds of conversation had died down. At first, she thought they were waiting for a response from her – if someone happened to have posed her a question, she was sure she would have failed to notice –, but the attention of the group lay on the door or rather what remained hidden beyond the weathered wood.

Another hesitant knock against the door. Ivy made a step forward, her expression lost between concentrated and shaken, disturbed even. Errin reached for her sword, and in the same instance, the door was pushed upon to allow entrance to a figure hustling inside and shutting out the noise from the street. They pushed back the hood of their short summer cloak to reveal locks of dark chestnut, woven into a complex updo. But even without a clear view of the intruder's face, Katrina would have recognized them by their presence alone.

"I knew I would find you here," Cynthia said and met Ivy with a hurtful look. "You ran away again."

"Cynthia, I –"

Whatever excuse Ivy had wanted to offer remained unspoken, as Katrina rushed past Ivy to embrace her friend. Every day of separation, days filled with the thought of the other's death weighed on Katrina, and she choked a tear. She held onto this moment, carved each detail into her memory, afraid to lose the fleeting beauty of reunion. After a moment of motionlessness, Cynthia melted into the touch and wrapped her arms around her.

"I have to tell you so much," Katrina said after pulling back.

Cynthia wore an honest smile on the rarest of occasions, faking it with the perfection of yearlong practice whenever etiquette expected a friendly façade, but this time, her smile was genuine.

"Shouldn't you be at the palace right now?" Ivy asked.

"And you?" Cynthia returned. She was grasping for an emotionless tone she couldn't quite pull off. "I let Aura and Helbram distract Howzer, so he should be occupied with preventing them from performing flight maneuvers all throughout the castle for the next hours. I wanted to know if you plan on coming back at all in the near future."

"I'm sorry Cynthia, but there's this thing we have to do, and the less you know about it, the better," Lance said. "We'll be gone for some time though, you're right about that."

"This is about Mordred, isn't it?"

Stunned silence befell the room, bordering on the first stages of panic. Lance's and Gaius' minds were already running wild with speculation on how Cynthia figured out Mordred's role in the affair, but Katrina knew her friend well enough to suspect what troubled her. And Ivy knew too.

"You've had another «Dark Omen» attack. And you didn't tell mom and dad about it. Again. When did it start?"

Cynthia squeezed her right hand tight and averted her gaze. "About a week ago. The images are still vague, but Mordred is always there. I… I want it to stop, Ivy, please. I don't want any of this to happen."

"We'll make sure that it won't," Ivy said and stepped forward.

Katrina had never seen the two sisters hug, but now Cynthia was clinging onto Ivy, and tears rolled down her cheeks. The withdrawn role Cynthia had played for so long cracked to reveal her true self, for just one small moment, and the tensed muscles of her right palm slacked to reveal the scar that disfigured the fair skin.

The scar that coincided with the day Cynthia had awoken her magical ability, «Dark Omen», which had caused her nothing but pain and fear of the day where she would see the faces of her family in her nightmares. The scar Katrina had created. After all these years, its edges brimmed with Demon magic, a ragged patch of deep, ominous purple.

Cynthia trembled. "It has always come to fruition, everything I see in these nightmares. In the end, they always die."

"I know. But this time, things will be different. We know what to expect and how to strike back. Will you do something for me in the meantime?" Cynthia nodded into Ivy's shoulder, unable to twist words into a response. "Stay strong for Helbram and Aura. They'll need you while we're gone. And maybe don't tell mom and dad about this when they come back. Just say I ran off with Lance like I always do."

The tender smile lighting her features disappeared as soon as Cynthia turned to Katrina. "Will you go with them?"

"I want to help, and I want to make sure that you will be free from those nightmares," Katrina said while taking Cynthia's right hand with hers. "I have so many things to tell you, but I hope it's okay if I do when we get back."

Cynthia was tempted to pull her hand away, or maybe a reflex ingrained into her mind and body over the course of the past years made her twitch. This scar represented all the imperfections she had suppressed or driven out, a memorial of the defiant child she wanted to forget. But regardless of her hesitance, in the end, Cynthia allowed her fingers to intertwine with Katrina's.

"Okay," she said, and the single word carried more honesty than all the chatter of rules and royal behavior she hid behind.

(A/N): Another slower chapter for character building, only that this one is far longer than the last. Lance's section and Ivy's flashback at the beginning are among my favorite scenes for them, so I hope you enjoyed these parts as much as I did. The next chapter will officially kickstart the third act, which mean the story will move a little faster from here on. And we'll spend more time with Mordred and the Knights of the Round Table. I hope you're looking forward to it.