Alaric Dukker had been home for exactly five minutes.
He had not even bothered to change the clothes he had been wearing. His body functioned differently and he barely sweated but still...
The study smelled faintly of parchment, sealing wax, and the dust that gathered whenever papers were moved too often and sleep was ignored too long. Stacks of documents covered the desk haphazardly—reports from builders, supply lists, casualty records, repair schedules, requests from merchants, petitions from farmers whose grain stores had been destroyed.
Alaric was hunched over this maze of bureaucracy referencing and sorting out what was nessecary to be gathered into a leather satchel.
His eyes were tired.
His shoulders ached in a way that no Flow could fix.
He fastened the satchel shut and turned towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
He stopped. Elara stood in the doorway, their daughter cradled in her arms. The afternoon light from the open window turned the edges of her hair into a halo of gold.
"Darling."
"Yes?" she replied patiently.
"I just came to gather documents.The mayors from the Blackwood region are arriving shortly. I will need these for the meeting."
"You've barely been here five minutes."
"I'm aware."
"And you are leaving again."
"Yes."
He tried to walk around her.
Elara moved to block his path.
Their newborn daughter, Ellaine was awake in her arms, small fingers curled loosely against her mother's dress.
Before Alaric could say anything else, Elara gently placed the baby into his hands.
"There," she said.
Alaric blinked.
"…What?"
"Now you can't leave."
He stared at his wife for a moment.
"Elara," he said slowly, "take the girl."
"No."
"I have work to do."
"I'm aware."
"Then take her."
"No."
Alaric glanced down at the baby in his arms.
"Darling."
"Yes?"
"I cannot attend a meeting with the mayors while holding our daughter."
"You should have thought of that before trying to run away again. Besides, I think you would look amazing coming in with your little girl in your arms."
"I am not running away though."
"You are," she said calmly.
Alaric sighed.
"Just take the girl."
"No."
He looked at the couch beside the door then at the baby. He made as if to lowered Ellaine onto the couch with the intention of vacating through the window.
A wave of murderous intent washed over the room.
"Don't you dare," Elara said softly.
Alaric froze.
Slowly he straightened again, the baby still in his arms.
He sighed.
"…Ugh fine."
He carried Ellaine over to his study chair and sat down.
The chair creaked under his weight.
Elara followed and perched herself casually on the armrest beside him.
For a moment neither spoke.
Ellaine squirmed slightly, then settled against Alaric's chest. He stared down at her softly, shifting slightly so she would be more comfortable in his arms. he usually reserved for dangerous artifacts. Elara watched him quietly.
"You remember our school days?" she asked after a while.
Alaric glanced at her.
"Which ones?"
"Just answer."
He leaned back in the chair, eyes drifting toward the ceiling.
"…Yes," he said.
"I remember."
" And our unwilling circle back at Fazhan University?" Elara asked.
Alaric nodded slowly.
"The seven of us."
He counted absently on his fingers.
" Myself. You. Licht. Farnsworth. Tess. Othmar."
He paused.
"Roric...."
"And Professor Kilgowe as our homeroom teacher." Elara completed, a faint smile touching her lips.
"The Glory Seven."
Alaric huffed softly.
"That was the name Farnsworth insisted upon."
"Of course he did."
Alaric chuckled quietly.
"Farnsworth had an unhealthy obsession with names. He insisted that if we were to be called something it should at least be eloquent," he said.
"That guy was completely incapable of sitting still."
Elara nodded.
"He hated lectures."
"He hated anything that wasn't a mystery," Alaric replied.
Alaric shifted slightly in the chair.
"Tess was the opposite."
Elara smiled faintly.
"Tess loved trouble."
"She thrived in it," Alaric said.
"Sharp tongue. Sharper instincts. She could talk her way out of almost anything—and if she couldn't, she usually had a blade hidden somewhere."
Elara laughed quietly.
They fell silent again.
"Othmar," Elara said eventually.
Alaric's expression grew thoughtful.
"Othmar was… steady."
"Reliable," Elara added.
"He spoke little," Alaric said.
"But when he did, people listened."
He looked down at Ellaine.
Elara's gaze softened.
"And Licht?"
Alaric shuddered dramatically.
"Ah, Licht. He always had the weirdest tastes, we joked that he would marry the bones at the apothecary and have his wedding in a cemetary." Alaric muttered.
Elara laughed softly.
"Roric did gift him a bull skull as a irthday presentm He started wearing it like a mask."
Roric...
The sound faded slowly.
Silence returned.
Alaric's gaze drifted toward the window.
"…How is Jamie?"
Elara's smile disappeared.
"She is not doing well."
He nodded quietly.
"That is to be expected. She's still young after all."
"She barely speaks," Elara continued.
"She stays in that room most of the day."
"She'll be fine.''
"Who would be fine? The only family she knows is dead."
Alaric tightened his hold on Ellaine slightly and closed his eyes briefly.
"Do you think they had something to do with it?" Elara asked.
Alaric exhaled slowly.
"Given the circumstances… it is not impossible they were involved."
Elara frowned.
"But the nature of happenings don't add up." Alaric said.
"Roric was not killed by any of the corrupted."
Elara looked at him sharply.
"What do you mean?"
"He was in a confrontation," Alaric said quietly.
"Evidence suggests he fought a person. Or people."
"People?"
"Yes."
"This was made clear when we went to investigate the site where Professor Kilgowe's remains were discovered. There was residual energy there, traces suggesting Roric had been present at the scene at some point before returning to the city. And that he fought someone. But aside the professor's, no other bodies were found." Alaric continued.
Elara's expression darkened.
"The weapon used to kill Roric was also found there."
Her voice became very quiet.
"I hear the limb and the weapon used to kill him were found."
"Yeah, apparently our son severed the attacker's hand during the confrontation."
Elara blinked.
"Elias did what? How come I'm only now hearing of this."
"Because you were recovering from childbirth and I didn't want to bother me with the stress of all these."
"Did I ask you not to bother me?''
"Oh, don't be like that."
"Then next time ring me all the details. I'll only spare you this time because Ellaine is asleep."
Alaric looked down at his daughter who had drifed off at some point and smiled.
"I am impressed with our son," Alaric admitted.
"But I find it difficult to believe an Acolyte child could sever the hand of a Saint. Even if he was weak from fighting Roric."
Elara looked offended.
"Are you trying to downplay our son?"
"That is not what I'm saying darling," Alaric replied patiently.
"I am saying the story contains too many holes."
He rubbed his temples with his left hand.
"I tried asking Elias about it."
"And?"
"He said he did not get a good look at the attacker. And Jamie... Jamie is not in any condition to answer questions." Alaric looked away.
The room grew quiet again.
"Did you speak with my brother? He could have sensed something upon arrival." Elara asked.
A faint flicker crossed Alaric's tired face.
"Yes."
"And?"
"Ortis was… uncooperative."
Elara sighed.
"Why can't you two just get long. You're grown men for crying out loud."
Alaric leaned forward slightly.
"What I can say though is that the murder weapon, the spear itself carries markings that trace back to the Nordian army."
Elara glanced at him.
"…You are certain?"
Alaric nodded.
"Nordhelm…" She whispered.
"Darling, did you-"
"Yes my love. I have done everything possible to remove all evidence that can expose the connection betweenJamie and the Nordian Royal Family."
Elara closed her eyes briefly.
"If anyone else discovered that she is one of them…"
"Things would become problematic," Alaric finished.
They sat in silence.
"Poor girl," Elara murmured.
Alaric looked down at Ellaine sleeping in his arms.
"We owe it to Roric," he said quietly.
"To protect her from a past she did not choose."
A sudden yelp echoed from the hallway.
Both of them turned toward the door.
A servant stumbled inside moments later.
"What is wrong?" Elara asked.
"The door handle," the servant said nervously.
"It was… cold. A-as if it had been frozen."
Alaric frowned.
"Frozen?"
"There was frost on it, my lord."
Elara and Alaric exchanged a puzzled glance.
The only known person with frost-related authority—
Ellaine suddenly began to cry.
Elara quickly took her daughter from Alaric's arms
"There there my love don't cry,Mama has you." She tried soothing her daughter while bringing her closer to her bosom and began feeding her.
"Yes?" Alaric told the servant.
"The mayors of the Blackwood region have arrived," the servant said.
Alaric nodded.
"Very well."
Elara looked at her husband.
"I came here to take your mind off work but it seems I've done the opposite."
He smiled faintly.
"Don't worry, my love. You helped me get things off my chest and I enjoy talking with you."
''Don't worry love, I'll help you relieve more stress when you come back tonight."
Alaric glanced at her and she winked mishieviously. He shook his head with a smile and walked toward the door. As he stepped into the corridor, a sudden chill ran across his skin and his foot slipped. He caught himself against the wall before falling.
"Huh, water?" he muttered.
Small puddles dotted the stone floor.
"Clean this up," he told the servant.
"Yes, my lord."
Alaric continued down the corridor toward the meeting hall.
*********
Unseen, a small figure walked silently through the manor. Bare feet touched the stone floor. Each step formed a thin layer of ice beneath them. Then, the ice melted instantly once the foot lifted again, leaving behind a small puddle.
The girl moved quietly.
Servants passed her in the hallway.
None of them noticed.
Her energy was so still that their minds simply slid past her presence.
Jamie continued walking.
Her expression was empty.
She stopped outside a door.
The Inquisitors' had been housed in the keep and she stood right outside their quarters.
Jamie pushed the door open.
No one was inside.
Her gaze moved across the room.
Then she saw it.
A spear rested on the table.
Jamie walked toward it slowly.
The blade was dyed red with her fathers blood and the stain even marked the upper part of its shaft crimson.
She stared at it.
This spear had a new meaning now, given what she had just overheard.
Jamie raised her right hand.
The spatial ring on her thumb—one of SK's gifts—flared softly.
It flashed once and the spear vanished.
Jamie turned without a word and left the room.