They returned as they went, inconspicuously. The two went to report to their father who was in his study.
The study was dimly lit, a clear sign that Daemon wasn't there to read. Perhaps, it served as a place to clear his mind and think.
"Ahh, My boys!" Daemon Clovis said happily.
Caster looked down, unhappy and suspicious. He didn't seem to want to be involved in their conversation. Something out of character for the chatterbox.
Emon still had his hood on. His black cloth was stained with blood, but it was clearly not his.
"What happened?" Daemon questioned in a slightly nervous manner.
"We succeeded in taking out the threat." Emon replied coldly.
"That's good, but what happened?" He asked as if he knew something was amiss.
"Nothing much. I only almost looked less handsome," Emon said as he removed his hood.
The scene shocked Daemon and set him aback. Daemon switched his view between Emon and Caster as he looked for an explanation.
"It was my fault, father. Please you must find a suitable punishment for the one who has scarred your heir," Caster proclaimed, his eyes were wet in tears.
"I think this colour suits me better. Perhaps a punishment for what I've done," Emon said as he brushed his hair with his hand.
"And does Caster know why you did it?" Daemon asked.
"Thankfully not, at the moment of truth he was more concerned about my hair," Emon responded.
"You're not the kind to seek and keep power at all costs. You will be in your right to hate me," Daemon said, as he gave Emon a searching look.
"I will never hate you, but I now see you in a different way," Emon said.
"Fair enough. Thank you for not hating me," Daemon said with a smile.
"Your mother won't make it easy for me for about a week. I wonder what Leanor would do too," Daemon continued.
"I will be leaving then. I have a lot to ponder," Emon said as he left the study.
Emon went in the direction of his room. The candle flames danced to the tune of the wind as the young Prince passed by.
The closer he got, the more hesitant he became. As if something was holding his leg or he was walking on wet and heavy sand.
Suddenly the door became ajar and Talia stepped through it. Perhaps, she had sensed him coming and wanted to greet him.
"Wow!" She said loudly as she saw his grey hair.
She didn't shout for the sake of pity. Emon's hair, illuminated by the moonlight was quite beautiful.
"So what happened?" Talia asked the smiling Emon.
Emon spent most of the night telling Talia what happened. Although, it would seem like a tragedy to many. Emon laid out the story as though it was a saga from a legendary being.
However, nothing Emon said could make Talia's worries go away. The left-out detail probably annoyed her too. After all, he was her only friend.
------
The next morning Emon went to train with Eccih. Eccih was a barrier user like Emon, albeit weaker in strength. But Eccih had the wisdom of age as he was four times Emon's age.
He was black-haired, although receding. His head reached Emon's shoulder. He was probably more than twice the size of his student. His eyes were blue but nothing exceptional in beauty.
"Good morning Eccih," Emon said to break the silence in the training yard.
"High Prince. You're up early today, considering you just returned," Eccih said with his deep voice that was rivalled only by the depths of his stomach.
"I learnt something new, I want to build on it while my memory is fresh," Emon replied.
"High Prince! Your hair, what happened," Eccih asked with worry.
"Ah, not to worry. I got something better in return," Emon said with a smile.
"It's not like I'm less handsome than before anyway," Emon continued.
"What I fear is what it may symbolise," Eccih protested
"And that is why I am training to build on what I've recently learnt," Emon responded.
"Tell me what you learnt," Eccih said, his face burning with curiosity.
Emon drew closer to Eccih and whispered into his ear. Eccih's eyes widened in surprise upon hearing it.
The master and student duo practiced for about three hours, until Leanor came to visit Emon, drinks in hand.
---------
Four men dressed in black and dark red capes had their backs against a wall.
In their front were bodies of the dead, three of which wore the same colours as they. While about a dozen were capeless men in black with blue trousers.
Nonetheless, about a dozen capeless men drew closer to them. The onslaught that followed was bloody and was only observed by a Black Kite. Swords clanked, the birds flew away to find cover and the blood of the dead watered the grasses.
The woods stank with the smell of blood. Vultures ate to their fill while crows sang their dreary song.
Emerging from the woods was a man with shiny light-brown hair and blue eyes. He was of average height and had a powerful aura about him.
"I would have said that was quite a show, but I'm no lover of blood," the man said with a sad voice.
"Now Daemon's eyes in your kingdom have been reduced," The Black Kite said in a human voice.
"Took twenty-four of my men to take out seven of his. That's a bad return, I fear we might have doomed ourselves," the King said in a saddened manner.
"Do not worry, you have us at your back. As we have seen, no single kingdom can take them down alone," The Black Kite said as it flapped its wing.
"Yes, indeed. But would you be at our backs to help us or take what is ours after we're defeated?" The man asked as he took in the woods sweet wind.
"Be careful. You don't want to anger your only ally," the Black Kite said as it encircled the man.
"Of course, you make us prove our loyalty by killing Daemon's men. Now we have no choice but to join hands with you," The King replied.
"As you've rightly seen, Central Velecor is very strong. We need to further weaken them," the Black Kite said.
"Now, now, what would you have me do again?" the king questioned with annoyance.
"Killing their spies in your kingdom is not enough, we need to weaken the heartland," The Black Kite said, then it perched on an apple.
"That was my plan anyway. 'The Sovereign of flames', Daemon and I were once friends. Now, I would soak my hands with his blood," The King said in ecstasy.
"That's all nice and good. But I fear you've overblown your prowess. Should you live, you will be privy to the information I have," the Black Kite replied.
"Should I live, huh. Thankfully I care not for my own life," The King replied calmly.
"Alright then, have it your way," The Black Kite replied enthusiastically.
The King departed and the Black Kite was alone. Another man emerged from deep inside the woods to meet the Black Kite.
"Good evening, Your Grace," the hooded man said as he knelt.
"What a sight, is it not?" The Black Kite responded as it moved towards the hooded man's shoulder.
"They will soon send men to check what happened and recover their bodies," the hooded man said as he bent down.
"Shall I do it, Your Grace?" The hooded man continued.
"At your time," she replied as she responded positively to his request.
With permission granted, the hooded man did something to the bodies of the fallen caped men.
As in long distance races, some only see the runners at the finish line. Some see the runners only around the beginning and some around the middle.
Central Velecor might soon see the wheels of war rolling. However, there is one who spurns the wheel and follows its progress.
Whether seeing the wheel late would destroy the Empire, no one can know.
It might not even matter in the face of unrivalled strength. But what happens when burning the wheel makes it move faster?