Matthias had already been told more than once to lower his voice by the monotone drone of his co-conspirator. And each time casting a pitiful look, first to Lukas the mage, then to Berwald his fellow ex-guard in hiding. They did not return to him any of the sympathy he thought he was owed. It really wasn't fair. He and Berwald had been forced to flee and hide in closets for the past six weeks and he was very aware of every hour that had occurred between the time that the anarchists had set off their bombs within the castle where he and Berwald had barely managed to escape as their fellow guards either turned or surrendered.

It was shameful no matter the outcome, but Matthias' pride had been especially hurt. Run away? Were he and Berwald cowards to have abandoned their king? He'd tried to mention his feelings to Lukas once, but received a roll of the eyes and a reminder that his escape meant the possibility that he could fight again. That and his duty was temporarily relinquished for a new cause when they displayed Ivan's frozen form in the courtyard overlooking the city. Somehow their talk did not make him feel any better about the situation at hand.

And that was when they trio formed the first of the new rebels, the ones who felt bound to the old king. From within Lukas' dark home they had planned and attempted to reach out to others who might aid their cause or at least were not opposed to it.

That's not to say it hadn't come without risks despite their not even once gotten as far coming up with a plan to take back the castle. Two weeks in the word had reached the wrong person and almost a quarter of their members were arrested by the new regime, another quarter fleeing to the mountains.

Lukas slapped a hand over his fingers which had been absently drumming on their meeting table. Matthias grinned sheepishly and pulled his hand back, looking around the room. It was near hopeless. No one here looked fighting ready, even with the right equipment which they would never be able to get their hands on. He glanced at Berwald on his left and Lukas to his right. Their faces set in perfect stillness betrayed enough to him to know they were thinking the same.

"Have we heard from our assassin?" Matthias asked. "Is he still coming to help us?"

Berwald nodded. "Yes. Should be here any day."

"Good. And your coven?"

Lukas sniffed. "It's not a coven. They are still deliberating. These things take time."

"So what are we going to do?" someone new asked. Matthias had already decided he would be more a hindrance than any real help. He hadn't been capable of sitting still in his seat for a full thirty seconds since he had arrived. They would need to move their meetings when he was caught and spilled most of their secrets to the police.

"You'll keep recruiting for now." Lukas answered for him, thankfully taking charge. "You know the blog. See who's reading it, who's on our side." He fixed the newbie with an especially serious glare. "We need an army."

"When's Spade's coming?"

The stranger gave Matthias pause. He hadn't recalled him coming in, but he especially didn't like the way the person had a hood pulled low over their head. They had to keep the lights dimmed within their room, should anyone attempt to peer in through a crack and spy, but he couldn't make out any features of the person's face. Only by the voice could he guess that whoever it was a man and still fairly young.

"They're not." Matthias stood slowly, either side of him his companions also rose. Berwald's hand traveled to a utility knife at his belt. Lukas he was sure was forming symbols with his fingers behind his back. "We show our faces here, friend. Take off the hood."

"Ah, about that..." The stranger gave an awkward laugh. "I was sorta hoping I could just listen for now?"

"We can't trust you if we don't know who you are. Lower the hood," he repeated.

The chair he had occupied scrapped backwards with the force he used to escape from it. "Come on guys..."

Lukas moved first, His hands whipped out from behind him carrying with them the invisible force that would knock into the potential spy. Most of their recruits were still too green to understand what was happening and watched with stunned open mouths as wind buffeted them. His spell charged full force as the stranger raised his right arm like he was holding a shield and the hood of his jacket only trembled as spell stopped harmlessly.

The Club mage lowered his arms and avoided the questioning gaze of his compatriots by staring straight ahead.

"Grab him!" Matthias ordered, "Don't let him leave!"

Several, the order shaking them out of their astonishment, began to rush forward. The first to reach him missed as the stranger stepped aside and tripped him, sending the recruit crashing into another who attempted to run up from behind. Having witnessed this did not save the next from meeting a similar fate. The third was not much better, as his arm was grabbed and spun around behind him.

The three leaders were around their table and making their way into the center of the commotion, arriving just in time for a man to be clotheslined and fall onto his back. "Hey," Matthias stepped forward, flanked by Lukas who had created strings of pulsing green between his hands and Berwald who was imposing enough on his own. "Why don't you fight with someone at your own skill level?"

"That doesn't put a lot of confidence in your army, just so you know."

He had a point and Matthias made an embarrassingly incomprehensible whine, something about having to be cautious even about training sessions. At any point someone could break in and arrest them all! With a sigh Lukas snapped his ropes like a whip and sent them in the strangers direction. The unseen shield went up, blocking all but one that found purchase and wrapped itself around the man's ankle.

He jerked the magical ropes back and it was just enough force to unbalance the intruder. The man crashed onto his back on the floor. As he struggled, finally managing to recover to get his feet back underneath him, his hood slipped off his head.

Lukas, who's arm was raised in another attack, froze. The spell dissipated, and he immediately retreated a step and bowed. Matthias, the last of the three to react appropriately, awkwardly bowed as well. "Your highness!"

Alfred stood, playing the hood before ultimately deciding that it wouldn't undo what they had seen and instead tugged as his sleeves. "Hey guys..."

"What are you doing here?" Matthias straightened. "Spades thinks you're dead. We might have been thinking the same."

It was Alfred's turn to look surprised. "Wait, they do?"

"Of course they do." Lukas produced a small compact from his pocket and held up the palm sized mirror so Alfred could see the stream of headlines. "You disappeared a month and a half ago. The nation has been in mourning."

Alfred tentatively picked up the small object and held it between his fingertips as he scrolled through headlines. Spades King Missing. Alfred Presumed Dead. Nation Searches For Next Appointed King. Time had moved differently while he was with Gilbert and the joker hadn't allowed him any distractions while they were training. He wasn't sure how he felt about it as he handed the mirror back. "So they aren't coming."

Lukas shook his head. "The queen's unreachable leaving the jack to attempt to convince the parliament that something should be done, but his opinion of it is to ask to search for a corpse not aid rebels in their national affairs."

First chance I get, Alfred promised himself, I need to send a message to Arthur and let him know I'm okay.

Berwald had leaned closer, his stare able to hold the shorter king in place while he waited for a chance to speak. "Are you going to help us?"

"Berwald, don't be stupid. Of course he is!"

Not convinced, the royal guard waited for a confirmation of it for himself. He would have to think about his home later, and did his best to reluctantly set those aside for now. "Yeah, I'm going to help." Alfred smiled in practiced confidence assuming cool pose #8 which involved pulling his shoulders back and putting his fists at his hips. Gilbert had regretted teaching him that one and complained regularly that there another eighty he could choose from.

The result was exactly what he had hoped for. The gathering of fighters looked far more alive than when he had first walked in this evening. Gilbert had said he was ready and there was a moment where he believed it was possible he was.

"I need a place to stay in the city. Do you know of one?"

"Yes. It'll be harder to keep it secret." Lukas exchanged a glance with the others and nodded. "We can take you there."

Matthias quickly broke up their meeting and silently the gathering filtered out through the door in small groups of two or three, leaving plenty of space between their departures to disperse into the night. Alfred pulled his hood over his head, once more obscuring his face from view as lights were extinguished and all traces of the meeting was cleared away. The final four vanished into the cool night air leaving behind a bare room.

Down the streets the walked, keeping to shadows and alleys rarely used. Few were out at this hour which also made them look far more suspicious. After walking for twenty minutes Matthias and Berwald split away, silently communicating their farewells through small hand gestures. Lukas nodded and continued to lead Alfred through the city, holding him back when he could hear someone approaching and hiding until the coast was clear. If footsteps sounded too near he would tug the hood further down over his face and hold his breath until Lukas began to move again.

Another thirty minutes and they were at a small theatre whose windows were blackened and a sign had been hastily posted out front declaring it closed until further notice. Ignoring the door they went to a window and slid it open wide enough to crawl through. Once they were through and the opening closed again Alfred sat blinded awaiting light enough to see. Instead he felt a hand that covered his eyes and muttered words barely above a whisper.

When the hand removed itself, the room became clear. His vision, while in black and white, was capable of making out the words written on papers in the office they now found themselves. He opened his mouth to say something, but caught Lukas holding a finger to his lips. The mage crept forward and after sticking his head out through the door waved for Alfred to follow him. Together they crept out into a hallway and bypassing the auditorium which Alfred thought he could make out light trickling from the stained glass windows only because it filled the designs with a bright white opposed to grey shades.

The hallway ended to doors leading to backstage which Lukas eased open to minimize any possible noise and they ducked through. From between the curtains a deep throated chuckle sounded, but Alfred couldn't see the owner to whom it belonged. Lukas quickened their pace. Past the dressing rooms, racks of costumes and equipment. Through a room filled with props to a set of stairs and down into a room filled with boxes from the floor to the ceiling. He got lost in the labyrinth of shelves until Lukas found what he was looking for. Grabbing Alfred's wrist and pulling him close over an odd looking carpet, he muttered several strings of nonsensical phrases while the floor beneath them glowed and hummed.

The effect was instantaneous. One moment he was surrounded by dusty boxes, and the next he was in a cupboard. It was too much and Alfred's swimming head sent him careening sideways where he wretched the contents of stomach onto the floor. Lukas, not looking much better, collapsed in an undignified heap barely a foot from where he had arrived.

In the midst of recovering the door opened, flooding the tiny space with light and blinding his night vision leaving him entirely helpless. He held up his shielding arm and braced for what could come. "Lukas?" a familiar voice sounded. Through squinting eyes he could see the mage's feet where the were righted. A moment later a hand covered his eyes and his vision returned to normal.

After rubbing the remaining effects away, he looked up to find Eduard, one of the three clergy, standing next to Lukas with wide eyes. "Lukas," he exclaimed, "That's... Alfred?" He waved, and Eduard hesitantly raised a hand in return.

"I guess I've got to start telling people I'm not dead?" Alfred laughed, but it wasn't the usual chuckle filled with merriment and not one that was returned. He wiped sweat from his face and rested a hand against the doorway to steady himself as he took the first few steps out after the jarring experience of teleporting. "Sorry about... uh..."

"Don't worry. Happens to everyone."

The dizziness faded quickly and soon it was only a memory of the terrible experience. And he wasn't looking forward to having to leave through the same means. Outside of the tiny room he recognized the stonewalls hidden by statues, paintings, and tapestries of every possible color. He was now within the cathedral of the muses, which would explain the presence of Eduard. He still wore floor length robes, but he had opened it in the front to reveal the dress shirt he wore underneath. The way his head kept swaying from one to the other Alfred was sure he would join them in feeling dizzy. "But... he's... well, we've all assumed... I... I don't mean anything by it!"

Lukas narrowed his gaze. "He hasn't explained. Arrived at one our meetings and attempted to hide himself from us."

They were both looking at him now and he hesitated. Gilbert did warn him about sharing too much too soon. Something about information ending up with their enemies quicker than their allies. But that wasn't the main factor. He wasn't sure how to explain why things were different now, mostly because he wasn't sure why it was. While all this went through his head he realized he had been standing there with his mouth hung open and in recovery smiled.

"I guess I could start by asking if there's anything you'd like me to tell Ivan."