A Den of Thieves

“Father, are you alright?” Kiinrin asked as he set his father down on the dusty cobblestone in front of the palace. “You look…”

“Confused?” Gestarin laughed ruefully. “That’s because I am. There are simply too many things for me to take in.” He pointed at Kiinrin and Jiriinii as she landed softly beside him, setting Vixin down. “How have my children grown in such proportions?” Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Aia’s Blood! Seeing his daughter seemed to change him from a stoic king to a blubbering child.

“A consequence of being a Jod, father.” Jiriinii said with a gentle smile. “I was worried you would take it like this.”

“Take it like this?” Gestarin chuckled, the tears finally breaking and rolling down his cheeks. “Of course I would! My daughter… my little girl…” He couldn’t help it. He sat down on the dusty ground, and he, the King of Glausiania, began to sob like a little boy. It was not a simple, quiet little cry. Gestarin wailed and wept, his shoulders racked with a mixture of sorrow and joy. Jiriinii had returned, but he had lost his little girl forever.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder and an arm slip around his neck. Kiinrin knelt beside him and held him as he let all of his emotion go free.

“It’s alright, father.” Kiinrin said softly, tears in his eyes as well. “We’re here. And we’re here to help.”

Gestarin sniffed, the last of his sobs dissipating. “I know, Kiinrin, and I am more glad than you can imagine.” He chuckled. “It appears that I will just have to get used to it first.”

“Well,” Vixin said, standing awkwardly to the side. “Let’s hope that happens soon. It wouldn’t do to have our king and leader reduced to the capacity of a child at every moment.” They all laughed, the tension disappearing in a moment.

The sound of rushing wind filled their ears as a plume of black smoke flew into the air next to them and slowly coalesced into Efstany, Flen of the Void. Gestarin stood and wiped the tears off his face, his expression going instantly cold.

“You,” He said, with steel in his voice, “have much to explain.” He turned to Vixin. “Did you know who he really was?”

“Yes.” Efstany said, interrupting Vixin’s response. “Lord Vixin found me in the wild and brought me to you, so that I might further your cause.”

“And what would a Flen want with the affairs of men?” Gestarin scoffed. “All you do is kill the men you choose to. No thought to anything else in your life.”

“And who does Aia choose to die, Lord Gestarin?” Efstany said quietly. Gestarin’s face softened slightly because of Efstany’s quiet demeanor. “Does Aia give the order to Harvest the farmers, the merchants, the honest men of the world? Or does he send us to bring justice upon the torturers, the murderers, the worst criminals? I can tell you, my lord, I have not Harvested a single man of the first who wasn’t a member of the second.”

Gestarin mulled this over in his mind, skeptical of Efstany’s claim about Aia for a number of reasons. Firstly, he wasn’t even sure if Aia existed. There was too much wrong with the world for a god with the benevolence and kindness of the kind Harvester’s described to exist. Gestarin could not accept it.

Secondly, Efstany had lied about a great many things. And Gestarin found it hard to trust a man who had destroyed that trust on a great number of occasions.

“Alright, fine.” He grunted, taking a step toward Efstany. “Let us assume you’re telling the truth. What I don’t understand is why. Why would a servant of Aia like you willingly choose to abandon his duty, risk the ire of his god, to help the very creatures he is sent to kill?” Gestarin shook his head fervently. “It makes no sense to me.”

“You cannot understand what it is like in the Void, your majesty.” Efstany whispered with a haunted look on his face. “Individuality, thought, feelings do not exist in the Void. There is nothing but Aia’s power and Aia’s will in it, and it is… suffocating. It is hard to have to return to that after having tasted the sweet taste of freedom. The other Flens manage it well enough, but I...”

“So then you escaped for yourself?” Gestarin asked with a raised eyebrow. “Not for any noble reason, not to help us, but just to keep your freedom.”

“At first, yes.” Efstany nodded. “I left the Void so I could continue to live, instead of merely existing in the Void with my brothers.”

“So,” Gestarin cut in, folding his arms. “What changed it?”

Efstany looked down and rubbed his arms as if he were chilled. The spikes rose out of his skin when he touched them, and the combination of the four on his arms made it seem like his skin was writhing and wrenching against its bounds. “Something happened on my first night of freedom, your majesty.” He said softly. “Something that changed the way I look at humans and justice.”

“Efstany, you do not have to speak any more.” Vixin cut in, walking forward and putting his arms around the now shivering Flen. “You have said enough.”

“I would hear more.” Gestarin barked. “I would hear all of it.” He pointed at Efstany. “From his mouth, not yours.”

Efstany nodded. “Very well, your majesty.” He turned to Vixin. “It is alright, Vixin. I can tell him. He knows what I am.”

“Speak quickly, Flen.” Gestarin growled. “My patience is wearing thin.” Even as he said it, Gestarin regretted it. Where is this anger coming from?

“My first night of freedom consisted of a massacre.” Efstany explained, lifting his head up to look his King in the eye. “I entered a tavern in Rhinalar, a small village only a few miles from Matrikai, to clear my head. I was reeling from my decision to separate from the Void, and I had heard that humans believe that drinking is the solution to this kind of problem.”

“True enough.” Gestarin nodded. “What next?”

“There was a misunderstanding between me and the keeper of the bar.” Efstany sniffed. “I had acquired some money, but it was the wrong sort.” He shivered again. “When the bartender told me, something inside me… snapped. The anger I felt, the malevolence I had, it seemed almost exactly like what Aia feels when we disobey him. And, so, I killed the man.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. Gestarin waited intently, keeping his emotions in check until he had learned everything. “The patrons didn’t like it in the slightest, of course. They foolishly tried to seek revenge for my killing of their friend.” Efstany looked back into Gestarin’s eyes, and Gestarin saw a number of things. Mostly, however, he saw pure, unadulterated sorrow. “By the end of it, they were  all dead at my hands.”

“That’s when I found him, your majesty.” Vixin cut in quickly, before Gestarin could object. “After he had done all of this.”

“And you took him home?” Gestarin spluttered. “Like a lost dog? Was your head with you, Viceroy?”

Vixin was looking at him curiously. “I think you know why, your majesty. I think that you see it yourself.”

He was right. Gestarin observed the Flen standing before him, and he did not see an evil being. He looked at Efstany the same way he would look at a child who tracked mud into the palace. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know any better.

But, then again, that child must be punished.

“Very well.” Gestarin said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “This is what shall happen.” He pointed at Kiinrin and Jiriinii. “I want you two to watch over this man, make sure he doesn’t do anything like what he did at the Junarian palace. There has been too much bloodshed already.” He pointed at Vixin next. “I want you to stay by my side at all times. I am going to be watching you, Viceroy. Too many things have happened because of you, and I will not have you aggravating this situation more than it needs to be.”

“Your majesty-” Vixin blurted, but Gestarin held up a hand.

“I will hear no more.” He pronounced. “This conversation is over.”

“Your majesty.” Efstany whispered, almost so quietly that Gestarin was unable to hear it. “There is something I must ask you.”

Gestarin sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Very well, Efstany.” He folded his arms. “What is it?”

Efstany raised an eyebrow and looked at Gestarin with a knowing smile. “What shadows do you see in the mirror, your majesty? I am interested to know.”

Gestarin’s legs turned rubbery under the weight of the question, and he would have fallen if Kiinrin hadn’t jumped forward and caught him.

“My lord,” The third, enormous Jod they called Vilkanai said. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes.” Gestarin said as he stood back on his shaking legs, waving away the others’ concerns even as his legs shook in his boots. How could Efstany had known? What importance did this have? These new questions brought up another as old as Gestarin was.

Who in the name of Aia was Nirastig?

Before his mind could process the question, a forerunner of the court ran up behind the group, huffing and puffing from exhaustion.

“Your majesty,” He gasped, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. “Allow me to introduce Highking Yrit of Quasexa, newly coronated leader of the Diradis.”

“Oh come now, Naroon.” A familiar, horrible voice laughed behind the tired servant. “Surely the King needs no such introduction. I have known him for many years. I need no runner.”

“Yrit.” Gestarin said coldly as the Harvester King walked up the steps leading to the palace. “You’re looking well.” Gestarin noted the change in the previous Highlord’s clothing. He had gotten rid of the garish golden doublets and tan trousers, going instead with a crimson cloak over pure black trousers, doublet, and boots. The only part that wasn’t black was his shirt, the white a stark contrast against the darkness of his other apparel.

“Quite well, your majesty.” Yrit bowed lightly. “Though I would appreciate if you would call me ‘your majesty’. You know,” He shrugged. “Decorum and all.”

“Very well then, your majesty.” Gestarin said, forcing a smile and a bow. “Congratulations on your new station.”

“No congratulations are necessary, Gestarin.” Yrit said with a wave of his hand. “The circumstances on which I take the throne are not glad ones. It is with heavy heart and sense of duty on which I take the throne, nothing more.” He looked past Yrit and nodded at Vixin. “Viceroy.” Gestarin turned around to look at Vixin as well, and he was surprised to see absolute fury in Vixin’s eyes.

“Yrit.” Vixin growled. “I see you’ve already managed to depose another nobleman while I was gone. Who next- Aia himself?”

Gestarin took in a sharp breath as the whole group went silent, and Yrit’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly, he burst into a laugh.

“Ah Vixin.” He chuckled. “You were always so funny. I had indeed missed that.” He looked back at Gestarin. “Now, if you'll excuse me, your majesty, I will make myself scarce. I believe I saw your wife heading up this way, and I don’t think I would like to be around for this reunion.” He bowed to the Jods. “Noble servants of Aia.” With that and a swish of his cloak, he turned on his heel and left. A moment later, Riina appeared at the bottom of the steps with her normal, stormy look in her eyes.

Gestarin grimaced as she stopped in her tracks and locked eyes with him.

“Riina, I-” He began, but stopped as the breath was knocked out of him. Riina had ascended the stairs faster than Gestarin could blink and wrapped her arms around him so tight he could scarcely breathe. Abandoning speech for the moment, he wrapped his arms around her and held on as tight as he could, tears threatening to spill once more. Riina had given in to that particular urge herself and openly wept into his dusty doublet. Eventually, Gestarin pulled away and lifted her face to his.

“Why do you weep, my lady?” He said quietly, and she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “What is so sorrowful about this reunion?”

“It is not sadness that spawns this reaction, my lord, but joy.” Riina choked out through her tears. Almost immediately, though, her eyes narrowed once more. “Although, there is a fair amount of anger, too.” A sharp pain blasted through Gestarin’s cheek as Riina wound her hand back and slapped him full in the face. “That should give my lord some idea of what it felt like to deal with his absence.”

Gestarin rubbed his cheek with chagrin. “I understand, Riina.” He started to say more, but was cut off once again as Riina pressed her lips to his with a large amount of force. Gestarin decided to simply give up on talking altogether and closed his eyes, letting all the love he felt for his wife spill through their tight embrace.

“Any of you fancy a meal?” Vixin piped up awkwardly, addressing the Jods and Efstany. “I’m famished.”

“I could definitely go for some food.” Kiinrin said too, almost sounding strangled. Gestarin heard Jiriinii try to speak as well, but she only succeeded in making a series of stuttering noises.

“Oh hush, children.” Riina said, pulling out of the kiss and laying her head on Gestarin’s chest. “Your father and I had to do much worse things to create you.”

“I definitely did not want to think about that.” Kiinrin interrupted. “Nope. Most definitely not.”

“Hush children.” Vilkanai laughed. “That is a kind of love one rarely sees these days.” He winked at them. “You would do well to take note of it.”

“I’m still only twelve!” Jiriinii finally managed to shout, and it sounded so absurd that they all began laughing as her cheeks turned bright pink. “But I am!” She insisted.

Riina took Gestarin’s hand as they both ascended the staircase, but she let go to embrace her children. Oddly enough, she was far more composed than Gestarin had been when they had returned. How the world changed.

“Your majesty.” Vilkanai said, and Gestarin turned to face the large Jod. “I do not wish to interrupt a fond reunion, but there are things we must attend to.” His eyes narrowed. “And I do not wish to conduct them in the street. I fear that there are many who seek to disrupt our plans.”

“Of course, Lord Vilkanai.” Gestarin gestured to the palace doors. “Lead on.”

“Wait.” Riina said, putting a hand on Gestarin’s arm. “I haven’t been able to find Inalla all day.”

“That isn’t anything strange.” Gestarin smiled. “You know how much she likes to run away.”

“Yes, but this time I followed her.” Riina insisted. “I last saw her going into the sewers.” Her eyes narrowed. “She wanted to see the coronation up close.”

“I think our daughter is getting a bit precocious.” Gestarin laughed. “Perhaps we should chain her to a dress rack. She’d never get away.”

“True.” Riina chuckled. “That might work.” Her face grew somber. “But still. I cannot find her, and the day is almost out.”

“I can find her.” Jiriinii piped up. Gestarin and Riina both looked at her with the same, raised eyebrow expression. “I can! Trust me.” She smiled. “I know my sister.”

Gestarin sighed. “Very well, then.” Jiriinii’s smile grew even wider, and with a flap of her enormous wings, she took off into the air.

“I do hope she finds her.” Riina sighed, resting her head on Gestarin’s shoulder. “I’ve been so worried.”

“It’ll be alright.” Gestarin said, caressing her face fondly. “Jiriinii has grown much since we last saw her. She is quite capable.”

“Your majesty.” Vilkanai called, gesturing to the doors of the palace. Gestarin nodded.

“Lead the way.”

* * *

Though the Council of Blood might have been a helpful tool at this point, Gestarin thought it better to discuss matters with Vilkanai without their presence. Too many of them may be loyal to Yrit, have their own agendas, or both. The chance for someone to cross them was too great, no matter how helpful the Council would be.

Although, Gestarin noted, the Council table did look ever so big without all the Highlords and Viceroys sitting at it.

“Very well.” Gestarin nodded. “Let us discuss everything we all have learned in our investigations.” He looked at Vilkanai. “Why are you here?”

“We were sent by Lord Valanal.” Vilkanai pronounced, gesturing to Kiinrin. “To investigate the possibility of a power play for the throne.”

“Has there been one?” Gestarin asked, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously. To be frank, Vilkanai, do not tell me things I already know. We are running out of time as it is.”

Vilkanai grimaced. “Very well, your majesty.” He leaned forward with his palms on the table. “Highlord Yrit recently concocted a plot to usurp both the Glausianian and Diradis throne.”

“What?” Gestarin was startled. “How? No man can hold both the Bloodthrone and the Glausianian. It’s against one of the most fundamental tenets of both Diradis doctrine and the Glausianian Charter.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Even I, the heretic King, know that.”

“Regardless, he did it.” Vilkanai said with thin lips. “And he very nearly succeeded.” He looked at Efstany. “Surprisingly, it was only because of the lateness of the Flens that he did not.”

“How do you figure that?” Gestarin asked. “Give me the details of this plot.”

He was sorry he asked. Vilkanai launched into a lengthy explanation about some sort of flower that grew in the Southern Wastes that launched a plot to overthrow the Glausianian government. Plots and schemes grew convoluted, and Gestarin was barely able to keep up. As far as he could understand it, Yrit thought he could send an assassin to kill Gestarin while a Flen was sent to Harvest Cixusa because of crimes Yrit tricked him into committing. Something like that. Gestarin wasn’t sure.

“That sounds about right.” Vilkanai nodded after Gestarin relayed his understanding of the events. “It was a cleverly crafted plan.” He leaned forward. “I also believe, from what you have told me, that he was also seeking to destroy Junar’s government. Is this true?”

“From what I have observed, he has.” Gestarin nodded sadly. “It amazes me, however, that Kiijal simply let himself be ruled by Yrit. His silver tongue is formidable, yes, but I didn’t realize Kiijal was so feeble-minded.”

“It sounds as though Kiijal had no idea what was happening.” Kiinrin said simply. “The economic changes were happening amongst the lower class mostly, which means that most of the transactions were beneath his notice.” His voice was so mature, so wise. Gestarin didn’t think he would ever get used to that.

“That makes sense.” Gestarin nodded, and Kiinrin smiled. “Though I still believe Kiijal was rather… well… an idiot. No good ruler keeps himself ignorant of what his people are feeling, thinking, and doing.”

“I agree.” Vilkanai said. “Perhaps Efstany was well thought in his execution of the Junarian Emperor.”

“Perhaps.” Gestarin said simply, eying the Flen. Efstany’s posture was subservient, his hands clasped behind his back and eyes downcast. He didn’t seem to be the kind of man who would needlessly slaughter an entire room of men. Not that kind of man at all.

At Gestarin’s word, however, he lifted his eyes and stared at the King.

“Your majesty.” He said gently. “There is still the matter of my question.”

“Which one?” Gestarin asked, stroking his chin.

“About the shadows, my lord.” Efstany replied, taking a step toward the King. “The shadows you see in the mirror.”

Before Gestarin could even begin to prepare an answer to that question, the door to the Council chambers burst open, and a little girl came bolting in. Rather than question her entrance, Gestarin laughed and scooped her up in his arms. No matter how fast she or her sister grew, Inalla would always be his little girl.

“Father!” Inalla cried happily as she was lifted up in his embrace. “You’re home!”

“Of course I am, little Var!” Gestarin laughed, pinching her nose like she when she was five years old. “Did you think I wouldn’t come back to you?”

“Mother said that you might not.” Inalla said seriously. “She said that we might have to be prepared for you to never return.”

“Your mother was wrong.” Gestarin smiled, kissing her head. Aia’s blood, how she had grown! He could barely hold her anymore. “I will always come back to you.” He set her down as Jiriinii walked into the room.

“I found her in the Lows.” She announced. “She was running around trying to find home.”

“It’s hard when there are buildings around!” Inalla protested, though it only served to make everyone in the room laugh. “Besides, I couldn’t really think. I was too scared by… by…” She shivered.

“By what?” Gestarin probed. “You can speak, Inalla.”

“It’s too strange.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Of course I will.” Gestarin smiled. “Try me.”

Inalla took a deep breath. “Highking Yrit’s reflection.”

The room seemed to drop to the temperature of ice, and Gestarin thought he could feel his blood run cold. Vilkanai and Jiriinii seemed to be the only ones who didn’t understand what was going on. Surprisingly, Efstany and Kiinrin looked as though they did.

“What do you mean, Inalla?” Gestarin asked slowly, trying to ascertain if she was talking about he thought she was talking about. “What about Yrit’s reflection?”

“I…” Inalla stuttered, her face paling. She wrapper her arms around her father once more. “I’m not even sure. It was so strange.”

“You can tell me.” Gestarin said, picking her up once more. He was worried by this reaction. If Yrit’s reflection scared Inalla enough to turn her back into a child, it was almost certainly what Gestarin feared it was. “I will believe you.”

Inalla took an even deeper breath this time, and she let it all out with the sound of a storm. “Well, Highking Yrit had just saved Plod from being attacked by Highlord Elik and was walking off. There was this mirror up against the far wall, and I glanced at it.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know why I did! But what I saw when he passed by it…” She shivered again, a tremor that shook her entire body. “It was like his entire body was rotten and dead. His skin was green, his hair was falling out, and he had this smile… This evil smile that stopped my heart.” The little girl was gone as Inalla spoke. Gestarin almost thought Inalla had grown the same amount as Jiriinii from the way she spoke. Her words made her seem like a haunted adult. “I had to get away from it. That’s why I ran to the Lows.”

“Inalla,” Kiinrin said gently. “What did the-”

“Thank you, Inalla.” Gestarin nodded, tightening his embrace for a brief moment. “Go find your mother, now. She can help comfort you far more than I can.” Inalla nodded and let go of Gestarin before exiting the room.

“Why did you send her away, father?” Kiinrin asked. “There were many things we could learn from her.”

“The girl was severely traumatized, Kiinrin.” Gestarin said, sitting down in one of the chairs to prevent his knees from buckling. Aia’s Blood, maybe he was getting old. “I didn’t want her to think about it any more than she absolutely has to.”

“But we don’t even know what she’s talking about!” Jiriinii burst into the conversation. “We don’t even know what’s going on!”

“Our Lord Gestarin does.” Efstany said quietly, looking at Gestarin with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression. “Lord Gestarin knows exactly what the little one was describing.” All eyes in the room turned to Gestarin, who sat at the front of the table in a daze.

“Is it true, your majesty?” Vilkanai asked bluntly. “What the Flen says. How do you know what the little one was speaking of?”

Gestarin breathed deeply, desperately trying to calm his nerves. He found himself at a crossroad of sorts, one that might have a significant impact on the events to come. Dare he tell his secret? Dare he reveal something even he himself did not understand?

“I can show you.” He finally said, steeling himself. If he would tell anybody, it would be his family. “But I will need a-”

“I have one right here, your majesty.” Efstany said with a slight grin, and he walked over to the far wall and picked up an enormous mirror, almost as tall as the King. Gestarin was startled, both at Efstany’s gesture and his sudden switch to the proper address of a king. Efstany walked over to Gestarin’s side of the table and stood it and its stand a few feet in front of the king. “I took the liberty of procuring one before this meeting.” He gestured to the others. “You will all want to come to this side of the table. There is something you need to see.” They all reacted immediately, each moving quickly to stand beside Gestarin.

Are you certain you want to do this? Nirastig asked Gestarin, raising his eyebrow in the mirror. They will only see what they want you to see.

“What does this Flen speak of?” Vilkanai scoffed, pointing at the mirror. “There is nothing here.” To him, there would be nothing. Gestarin was forcing them to only see what he chose.

I am sure. Gestarin nodded to the marred reflection. Show yourself to them.

Gestarin heard a soft gasp behind him as Nirastig became visible to the others. Jiriinii held a hand to her mouth and had gone pale. Kiinrin, strangely, had no reaction except for a single nod. Vilkanai’s expression darkened.

“You may wish to explain yourself, your majesty.” He growled. “This puts you in the same company as Yrit Yvilirin, a murderer and a thief, and I most certainly do not wish to think of you as such.”

“Gestarin doesn’t have to explain himself, Lord Jod.” Nirastig said wickedly in his raspy, guttural voice. “I can speak for himself.”

“I would most certainly like to know what is going on.” Jiriinii interrupted, sounding both fearful and angry. “I would like to know why that… that… thing is your reflection, father.”

“A consequence of his birth, I fear.” Nirastig sighed. “Gestarin had no say in who he was, little girl.” Jiriinii stiffened, and Nirastig smiled once more. “Yes, no matter what Aia attempts to do, you will be a little girl for a while longer.” Nirastig looked at Vilkanai. “Lord Gestarin was chosen for this position, Lord Jod. He was chosen to be the vessel of Oio.” He smiled. “After a fashion.”

“Oio?” Vilkanai appeared startled. “What black magic began this nonsense?”

Nirastig looked intently at Gestarin. “Tell them, your majesty. Tell them how this all began. It’s a simple story really, and we should be thankful that it is so. It was Gestarin’s simplicity that started this whole mess.”

“Enough.” Gestarin cut in. “I can tell them without any of your commentary, Nirastig. Hold your tongue.” Nirastig said nothing, but he continued to smile his wicked smile. Gestarin kept his eyes on the reflection as he told the story.

“When I was a boy, a prince,” He began, letting the painful memory surface, “my father took me on a trip to visit Reledan. I was scarcely older than a child, but I looked forward to the independence being in a foreign country would give me. I hoped to impress my father, to show him that I could be the kind of ruler he was.” He looked up at Vilkanai. “This was before I decided that ruling a country was not for me.”

“Of course.” Vilkanai nodded. “Continue, your majesty.” Gestarin looked back at the mirror. Nirastig raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, get on with it, your majesty.” He said in a voice oozing with sarcasm. “We can’t wait until we get to the part about my birth.”

Gestarin rubbed his temples. “On our way to Reledan, we had to pass very near to Void. I was so impressed by this massive black wall that seemed to block our way. I could see it, of course, from Matrikai, but being close to it almost made me feel like an ant. I was so insignificant compared to this thing.” He smiled ruefully. “So, naturally, I wanted to ride up to it and touch it.”

“Truly an idiotic thing to do.” Nirastig noted. “But, then again, I did say it was his simplicity that started this mess.”

“Hush, demon.” Vilkanai growled. “We shall deal with you later.” Nirastig shrugged and went back to staring at Gestarin.

“I was ignorant, yes.” Gestarin admitted with a laugh. “But the Void almost seemed to call to me. I was drawn to it, like I never had been before. My father’s guards rode with me, but they had no idea of my intentions. So, at the first opportunity, I took off ahead of them and reached the Void before they even knew what was going on.” Gestarin closed his eyes, trying to picture the moment. “I jumped off my horse, filled with the glory that comes from intense stupidity, and I reached out and touched the Void.”

Silence filled the room. Each person could hear the others hold their breath.

“What next, your majesty?” Efstany said quietly, probing the King for more information. “What was it like?”

Gestarin thought for a moment. “Crushing.” He said after moment, with a sense of finality to the word. “It felt like glass the first time I touched it, but almost immediately it turned into water and sucked me in.” He chuckled. “The guards had managed to catch up to me and grabbed my legs to pull me out.” He shook his head. “But the damage had already been done.”

“What damage, my lord?” Vilkanai asked, a look of compassion replacing his look of contempt.

“Almost as soon as my head entered the darkness, something had entered it.” Gestarin shivered violently. “It felt like there was an intruder in my head, sifting through every aspect of who I was. My thoughts, my desires, my fears. I was an open book for this thing to read.

“‘Why are you here, foolish boy?’ It asked, angry and amused at the same time. ‘Surely humans haven’t grown this dense in the years since I left. Haven’t you been told about the dangers of this place?’

“I didn’t even have to respond- he was already in my head. He knew what I would say even before I knew I was going to say it. ‘Interesting.’ He said. ‘You wish to be a leader, auspicious and important? Well, I can do that for you.’” Gestarin shook his head. “I couldn’t hear any more, since the guards pulled me out. But as I exited, I felt as though something from the Void left with me. I was so overwhelmed after this ordeal, I passed out on the grass of the Junarian plains.

“When I awoke, we were in Reledan. I had been unconscious for weeks, thrown across the front of my father’s saddle. The excursion to Kaskalok had been too important for my father even to take care of me.” Gestarin laughed bitterly. “It was at that moment that two things happened. One, I decided I never wanted to be King if I could help it. Two,” Gestarin pointed at Nirastig, who struck an absurd pose in the mirror, “there was a mirror in the corner of the room, and he was there to congratulate me on my decision.”

“Of course I was!” Nirastig almost sounded insulted. “You’d think I was an uninvited guest.”

“You were.” Gestarin said pointedly. “I never asked for you.”

“Oh, but you did, little one.” Nirastig smirked. “You invited me in the moment you entered the Void. Aia chose you, just as you chose him.”

“I never chose Aia!” Gestarin shouted, all his pent-up anger and frustration towards Nirastig exploding out in this one moment. He pounded his clenched fists against the stone table. “I dont even know if Aia exists, Nirastig! All I know is somehow, the Void put you in me, and I never wanted you!”

Silence engulfed the small room. For once, it seemed Nirastig had nothing to say. He actually sat in the mirror and looked shocked, as if he had never expected this from Gestarin. It was accurate. Gestarin hadn’t expected this kind of outburst from himself. He had always been calm, calculated. Emotional frenzies had never been part of who he was. NIrastig always seemed to bring out the worst in him.

Gestarin rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “I’m sorry. That doesn’t normally happen.”

“So it’s true.” Vilkanai said with an awestruck face. Gestarin looked at him strangely.

“What is?”

“The King of Glausiania,” Vilkanai explained, “the most renowned ruler in the world, is a heretic.” He shook his head. “I thought you were merely joking. Your majesty, forgive me for asking a pointed question, but… How do you do it? How can you rule hundred thousands of people so well without God’s help?”

“Oh, but, Sir Jod!” Nirastig laughed wickedly. “He does have divine assistance.” He pointed at himself with a sarcastic gesture. “He has me.”

Vilkanai’s eyes narrowed, and he looked toward Nirastig to say something. As he opened his mouth to speak, however, his eyes widened. His lips began to silently mutter something, and his hands gesticulated wildly. It seemed to Gestarin that he was solving a puzzle of some sort.

“Sir Jod?” Gestarin asked in confusion. “Is everything alright?”

“The Unbeliever and his better half…” Vilkanai muttered. “But where is the Sacrifice and the Penance… Must go to Valanal… Speak to the Seat…”

“Vilkanai!” Kiinrin shouted, and Vilkanai fell out of his reverie with a blink. “Are you alright?”

“I…” Vilkanai stuttered. The Jod actually appeared to be nervous! “I’m not sure. There are whispers… Prophecies that speak of things such as this. I need to speak to Lord Valanal to understand what I should do in a situation like this…”

Fear not, Lord Vilkanai. A new, serene voice permeated through the room. It instantly calmed Gestarin, like the voice of a loved one. All will be revealed in time. Know, however, that your assumptions and beliefs are correct. You have touched upon possibly the most important piece of knowledge anyone can have in these last days.

“Thank you.” Vilkanai said slowly. He turned his head this way and that, trying to locate the source of the calming words. “Forgive me, oh great one, but where are you?”

“You idiots.” Nirastig snarled. “Look back over here.”

Gestarin looked back at the mirror, angry once more at Nirastig for interrupting. His words died in his throat, however, when he saw a soft white glow emanating from one of the people in the mirror.

Efstany nodded. “As I suspected.”

“Nirnik,” Kiinrin said suddenly, looking worried. “Is this wise?”

It is necessary, Lord Kiinrin. The light in the mirror said. It was more ethereal than Nirastig, less concrete. The Voice spoke more in their minds than to their ears. Such events must now come to pass to bring about Aia’s reckoning.

“Aia’s blood.” Gestarin swore. “Who are you?”

The light in the mirror dissipated to reveal Kiinrin’s reflection. Only, it wasn’t Kiinrin. Much like how Nirastig was a rotten version of Gestarin’s features, this being was a perfected version of his son’s. No flaws, perfect skin, perfect features. It was what Kiinrin would look like if he were god.

“My name is Nirnik, Lord Gestarin.” It said with a raised eyebrow. “And you of all people should know exactly who I am.” He looked over in the mirror at Nirastig, who stared back with a sort of mix of hate and affection. “Nirastig.”

“Nirnik.”

“Why must we fight so?” Nirnik sighed. “We will be reconciled, so all this contention has no purpose.”

“Nature.” Nirastig snapped. “The day will come when we are one again, but until then we shall fight like sisters over an attractive male.”

Quiet, boys. A third voice cut in, and once again a gentle light shined from the mirror. This time, however, it seemed to be emanating from Jiriinii.

“Iniriija?” Nirastig and Nirnik gasped simultaneously. Nirastig seemed absolutely stunned, though Nirnik appeared simply startled and continued to speak. “Has the time come so fast?”

Indeed. Iniriija said. The light in the mirror disappeared to reveal a perfect image of Jiriinii’s shocked features. And now we can begin.

Efstany nodded triumphantly. “And now we are three.”

Jiriinii sat down with a white face, almost certainly trying to keep herself from passing out.