The night was still young when Laedan came to Aehlize’s room to hand her materials. He thudded three thick manuals on her reading table: one about the jargon used by the Shield Unit, another about military hand signals, and the last one with theory of movement, battle stances, and fighting scenarios. She was also given school supplies and a few ominous warnings:

Liov chose the long sofa that faced the big window with the view to the parkway. Aehlize chose the sofa opposite to him with a view to the walls plastered with cabinets. Laedan returned to his throne-like chair and sat in silence. He had been tapping his index finger on the back of his hand, gaze down, for a while; probably organizing his thoughts after a dramatic sequence of events worthy of a cheap telenovela.

Monthiversaries of battles clouded the subsequent weeks with loss and uncertainty of the future. Privy of political explications yet privileged to rub shoulders with the heroes of the land, the inhabitants and caretakers of the Mauhl Urx Manor somberly paced like a funeral march. They filled their days with distractions and mood swings; silence and worry; seclusion and tenseness. As if it were an unvoiced royal mandate, Mauhl Urx quarantined, grieved, and counted their blessings…

“Clutch your choice tightly on your chest,” Aehlize whispered to herself and knocked twice. After a long pause, his voice rumbled an insecure, “Come… in?” She meekly opened the door of the Meeting Room. The layout of the Fish Tank was so weird, it could be its own brain-twisting paradox: Was it longer than wider or wider than longer? Either way, it was a rectangular cuboid, and the entrance was oddly placed at the end of the wider side.

“Clutch your choice tightly on your chest.” His advice buzzed as Aehlize closed her eyes to sleep. That same night, she had a… ‘dream.’ The cheap hotel-like hallway. All doors of different materials and colors were closed except one located almost at the end of the warm tinted corridor. The sounds of a party coming from that door invited Liv to get a peek.

"~...All the choices I chose to bestowIt's been by my design to become a shadowI entrusted the spotlight to elude the glow...~"

“Then, I’m not hungry,” Aehlize emphatically repeated. “But… but you told His Majesty you were—” “Gwery, I know it was my fault for telling him I would; but if he ordered you to not serve me meals anywhere but the dining room, then tell him I’m not hungry. Better yet, tell him I’m not in the mood to go downstairs for dinner.” She slid out a book from the room’s bookshelf.

Technically, as a guest, she could go anywhere and talk to anyone. Practically, as a guest, there were people Laedan didn’t want her to talk to. Technically, as a guest, she could do anything she w…

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Some of the flowers in the pot field near the rainbow vivarium were ‘pickable.’ However, Tahlae warned that many of them were eccentric plants used for scholarly studies or for being studied. Some of them moved like living creatures, some of them sucked carbon dioxide at vacuums’ speed, some of them grew in the presence of other living beings, like how the smell of fresh cut grass was a distress signal.

How easy is it to fall into mindless routines when there’s nothing afoot? For Liv Camila Ramos, too easy. After that Monday morning meal, Aehlize realized that the sense of being watched, the eery emptiness of the manor, and the disembodied footsteps were no coincidence. Laedan had informants dedicated to telling him about her whereabouts, because he wanted to… pay her a visit?

The swishing of a sword unsheathing echoed. Aehlize didn’t have time to react. Whoever was behind her, pulled her by the collar of her dress, spun her, and shoved her by the chest against the bookcase with so much force her back cracked. The Protovair file flew across the lobby. She wasn’t sure what hurt the most—the pressure on her neck and chest, or her sore ribs.

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The investigator/auditor reported: Vohenre, ProtovairCase #342The Crown against Eorith Gwoll, Royal Maestro Charge of Regicide: Inconclusive.Judge Panel ruling: Mistrial.Place of punishment: N/A Relevant notes: Page 349 and on: Heyla accuses Eorith of instigating the coup against the Protovair Crown where the Erstwhile King Harull Nyrahd was killed. Evidence of the mistreatment the accused inflicted on royal servants, and evidence of handling the Royal Blades for a hand trick, are presented to support the argument that Eorith served King Harull for self-interest, not loyalty.