Xenron danced between the lines of laser beams, careful to keep good footing. He was shot with a blast of electrical energy from a gun on Opal’s shoulder, stunned, and promptly covered with laser blasts, giving him an array of stinging burns. He groaned without moving as they ceased firing.

  “Ready to stop?” the maintenance technician Opal offered. “Perhaps you just need to work on your acrobatics some more.”

  “I’m alright,” Xenron said. It was the last day of a Survival Gauntlet cycle. He was bone-weary, and distractingly hungry. Still, he’d done this a dozen times. He was used to the day three weakness. He and Leo had started to make jokes about it before… anyway, he knew better than to get upset over it. “Don’t suppose you have any special advice?”

  “Try to be hard to hit,” the man said, waving the wiry training gun around for effect.

  “Right,” Xenron said, trying not to sound too disappointed, but he had the right attitude back by the time the MTT came back into motion. Round one started. Lasers circulated. And Xenron rushed into motion. Three times. Each time, Opal attacked from the most inconvenient place, making it impossible for him to dodge the lasers. When he did, and was subsequently hit too many times, the round would restart, as he was ‘dead’ and so had failed. It seemed impossible to both avoid Opal and track all of the beams.

  Xenron stopped himself. It would have been truly impossible, he realized, to avoid a dedicated gunman’s assault while also dodging the lasers - especially with the uncanny speed Opal had. But that wasn’t the goal. He had to avoid Opal’s periodic attacks without striking back - it wasn’t about constant dodging, but knowing where he was. Experimentally, Xenron donned a pair of sunglasses Ken had gotten for him.

  When Xenron closed his eyes, he couldn’t see the laser turrets at all. However, Opal’s soul was a jubilant yellow with shades of violet intensity throughout - very clear to him. Awkwardly, he closed one eye and opened the other. It took another round’s failure and the sting of lasers again, but Xenron adjusted, finally getting the hang of watching Opal and the lasers at once. He noticed that his closed-eye vision was able to track beyond the normal field of vision, limiting the downside of opening one eye.

  “Round one complete. Please prepare for round 2.”

  Xenron let out a sigh of relief, then turned to his impromptu master, bowing.

  “What kind of modification are we doing on round 2?”

  Opal looked at him, an amused expression on his face. “You’re that confident in handling all of them yourself?”

  “I’m not sure,” Xenron admitted, shrugging. Round 2 involved fighting over a dozen enemies - a task that would have been impossible for Xenron even a month ago. “But I’ve trusted you this far.”

  Opal looked away and spoke. “Right, then. I guess I’ll add a ‘final boss’.”

  When his teacher didn’t elaborate further, Xenron drew his saber and simply stood ready for the next round.

  “Round two will now commence. Kill all of the soldiers to progress,” the woman’s voice boomed, and with two soldiers, the round began. Xenron lunged at the right soldier and at the same time extended a hand, using an overcharged Knock spell to send the left one sprawling. The force was diffuse, meant to break doors, not as a targeted weapon against people. Still, Xenron used his own spell formula, one that he had refined the efficiency and potency of. Since his tools were limited, Xenron had long since taken the spell past its intended function. He Strengthened his leg to shove off the ground towards his enemy, parrying and then tearing it down with a spinning slash. A quick a follow up let him cut down the prone enemy before it could rise. Then, Opal came for him, striking his shoulder with a quarterstaff in the confusion. He could tell the man was moderating his power, since the blow didn’t outright knock Xenron down. Xenron gritted his teeth and kicked back. Opal sprung away with all the poise of a dancer. While he was distracted, the next three soldiers had risen and gotten the initiative on him. But they would not dampen his spirits. He was enjoying the fight. He grinned before loosing a ridiculous spell.

  “Celebrate!” Xenron shouted, again using a personal variant of the spell formula. He swept his free hand and spread a dense cloud of confetti. The soldiers briefly lost sight of him, the shadowy forms swearing their annoyance - a curious expressiveness. Xenron ignored the oddity, cutting them down in sequence, narrowly evading their weapons with his aura-enhanced speed.

  To his closed-eye vision, all the enemies were easy to trace, and their ‘souls’ flashed red in key locations, betraying tells as they were about to attack. He wondered what had generated such emotions in the fake soldiers, then refocused. Bruce had taught Xenron an improvement of his basic aura technique. It was more mana-efficient at boosting his strength and speed, which was already a huge boon, but it had another focus. Xenron was already physically dexterous and flexible on a level uncommon amongst his male peers, an advantage that hadn’t mattered until his strength has started to catch up. Now, Xenron used the River Aura - one focused primarily on boosting agility. Chosen by Bruce to suit him and adapted by Vex’s brutal training into his fighting style, the aura turned Xenron’s slim advantage into a dominant strength.

  Xenron bent over fully backwards to dodge a sword swing, then kicked his enemy as he pulled into a back handspring to avoid a thrust from the side. He moved to the side of another thrust, leaning at an angle that should have been precarious as he stabbed the shadowy soldier in the throat. He spun on the other enemies, cutting them down with similar ease. Xenron had practiced this technique against Ken, and the MTT soldiers were far weaker than him.

  Now that he felt that enhanced power, mana powering him from inside and out, Xenron realized just how much he had held Leo back. How infuriating had it been to be tethered to someone walking in slow motion? No matter. He wasn’t going to hold him back anymore.

  Reacting instinctively, Xenron turned and blocked Opal’s next attack. The man nodded, but by the sound of shadows coalescing, Xenron knew the last wave of four was coming. Opal kept pressing Xenron with additional strikes, and Xenron wasn’t sure how to respond. Opal wasn’t wearing armor - he was much stronger than Xenron and his aura could probably negate anything Xenron threw at him, but Xenron didn’t want to chance a freak lethal attack anyway.

  Hearing footsteps behind him as he clashed weapons, Xenron closed his eyes. A moment later, he used an overcast Strengthening and leapt, soaring far out of the soldier’s weapon range. While in the air, he prepared a spell. Xenron had only been training with Opal for a week, but adding that to his sessions with Bruce meant that he had been critiqued from multiple angles. Simply firing stock Tier I spells off wasn’t enough to match competent opponents. Under his mentors’ guidance, Xenron had repurposed modifications he’d made to elemental spells - the work of years as a powerless dreamer.

  “Open spellcast. Knock Volley - Type: Convergence. Close spellcast.”

  Xenron had found he could extend Knock to multiple targets with minimal tweaking - so long as the multiple pushes intersected. That could mean they came from the same starting location, or…

  The waves of force crashed into the four soldiers that had come to attack him, pushing them all towards the same point: Opal’s location. They lurched into him, leaving him to stumble back out of the pile. Xenron landed with a roll, neutralizing the fall without losing any momentum. He brought his saber overhead as he ran forward, then swung down on the piled-up bodies with both arms. Along the arc, he focused a pinpoint variant Knock spell, triggering it with the swing and striking only the tip of the blade, accelerating it dramatically.

  “Compound Slash!”

  The blade whistled through the air, cutting down all four morphite bodies, armor and all, as if without resistance. They turned to black goo that seeped down into the stone below. His slash didn’t stop, coming down to the stone where it cracked at the point of impact. His enemies liquified, Xenron continued, making one more lunging step and bringing the point of his blade forward towards Opal’s chest. He didn’t go for the neck, in case he miscalculated, but he didn’t. Xenron was still not used to the precision of his own movements. Instead of responding, the man looked at him almost baffled, his hands raised in surrender. Xenron grinned.

  “Nicely done, my lord. You look like you’re about to pitch over. Shall we have lunch?”

  Xenron gratefully accepted the handmade lunch box that the man offered him. Opal didn’t live in the castle and brought spices from all over Learsi in his lunches. Besides that, Xenron was glad to be able to offer some company in a way that didn’t extend Opal’s workday. The man would have to get through the same maintenance log before he went home regardless of how much he trained with Xenron, so the prince tried to keep their sessions brief. Worse, he had rejected Xenron’s every attempt to try to get him paid for the time spent. Opal had said it was no big deal - that he just had to set Xenron on the right path. Well, as he liked, Xenron supposed. The prince certainly wasn’t getting a better offer, and he’d be happy to look out for his teacher in the future. Rising to his father’s lofty expectations was a distant goal, but it no longer seemed impossible - and it dawned on Xenron he would truly rule over all of Learsi one day if he kept on the right path.

  “How goes the Tier II training?” Opal asked. “I understand you’re intent on learning the higher level spells.”

  “Well enough. I’m close to getting basic Telepathy working, I think. I got Enhance Senses once while I was upside down.”

  “Did it make the headstand hurt more?”

  “Much more. I fell on my face, which was worse,” Xenron admitted. “How do you make sense of the motor aspect of a spell cast? I know what I’m meant to do in theory, but none of the rote movements feel right.”

  “Well, the main thing is to make sure you’re flexing the right muscle groups,” Opal explained. “Your body is filled with small organs called converters. These need to be engaged physically - to some extent, less if you’ve trained them well. But whatever movement you see in a spell formula is just a recommendation for what has worked for other people. This is why there’s so much trial and error.”

  “And why we look insane when we’re trying to cast something new?” Xenron said, waving his hands around dramatically for effect.

  “Yes,” Opal said, laughing. “We certainly do. But that’s just fine. Find what suits you. That’s what’s most important in all of this.”

  He clapped Xenron on the shoulder - a welcome gesture. Things still confused him about Opal- why was someone so powerful doing maintenance and not more lucrative guard work? Did he just dislike fighting? He certainly seemed willing enough to train Xenron. Regardless, a close-eyed examination told Xenron that Opal was as content as he was, though with something like anticipation sitting inside. It appeared to him as violet-black tendrils, writhing within his soul and coming in and out of sight. Xenron wasn’t sure what to make of the oddity, though it felt faintly familiar. He put these questions aside, biting into the lunch the man had offered him. The exotic crustacean meat, though it was the gross color of moss, melted in his mouth, the unique spices leaving him in a glad stupor.

  “Thanks for your advice. You told me to really try to understand the people around me, and I’m working on it. Ken and Eric are amazing people, more than I ever knew, more than I probably know now. A lot of my peers are. And I’ve thought about finding my true self also. I realized that I don’t quite know who that is yet, but I hope I can find him.”

  “It doesn’t have to be anyone in particular,” Opal said. “It should be a person that you like. Keep exploring. I’m proud of how you’re trying to help your friend with a political approach- it’s clever. Not every problem has the solution you expect. Keep an open mind, my lord. Days to come will likely present opportunities you’d never expect. One day, His Majesty will not reign, and there are serious problems you’ll have to contend with. On that day, you’ll have a chance to make a real difference as the person you’ve decided to be.”

  Xenron nodded sagely, but felt confused. He appreciated the validation, but what in the world did he mean about ‘days to come’? It didn’t feel like some throwaway proverb. However Xenron turned it over, though, he couldn’t connect it to anything else except Opal’s last bunch of philosophical musings on the morning of the Exhibition. Perception is a powerful thing. Some people can change the whole world just by looking at it differently. And how did Opal see the world? Really see it? By the time Xenron wondered as much, Opal’s emotions had already reset to relaxed. Xenron wasted away the rest of Opal’s lunchtime in similar contemplations, and he scolded himself mentally for it, but tried not to show his disappointment when the man started cleaning up.

  “I’ll be doing some extra maintenance on the MTT in two days from now. Don’t come in for training that day - I’ll have it entirely down and it’s probably not safe for other people to be nearby.” Xenron nodded, then gave his mentor a hand up. “Treat me like an old man, will you? I’m not that much older,” Opal said.

  “Stop being so wise then, old man,” Xenron said.

  “No can do,” Opal said, eyes smiling. “Duty calls. I’m off to the other gardens - good luck pulling things together, my lord.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Xenron nodded, smile fixed on, as he watched Opal go. He still had to contact everyone, including Leo, to get proper meeting together with all their notes. He was worried Leo would keep up his streak of silence, so he wanted to find the right wording for his message to make that as unlikely as possible. Xenron’s draft texts had only looked worse and worse to him with time, though. Leo was his anchor, the person he could spend quiet time with and then everything would make sense. Without that, he felt lost.

  He would get to it when he woke, he decided. Xenron had given everything he had - so after going through a series of light martial forms, he called it a day and fell into the death-like sleep of the Survival Gauntlet’s conclusion.

  …At least, that was his plan. But as Xenron closed his eyes, stepping into that darkness, it was not perfect darkness. There were the phantom spots of light in the darkness, the same that everyone saw. Yet - even as these faded, there was a subtler spectrum of shades - the phantoms of people in his vicinity. He’d found walls did little to hide them from him. These phantoms reminded him of another weight he’d taken on. Taking a deep breath, he drifted in the direction of the almost invisible shrouded soul of Ms. Bushida.

  “I’m here,” he said, announcing himself. He didn’t bother asking if she was ‘alright.’ That would be foolish. She wasn’t dead, but she wasn’t well, either. Her spirit wilted. He could see that, even withdrawn as she was.

  “You don’t have to watch me waste away,” she said.

  “I… just thought I should check in again,” Xenron said, not knowing what else to say. “I wanted to make sure you were still here.”

  “You haven’t found any leads for me, have you?” she asked. Xenron cringed, but answered honestly to confirm her suspicions. She sighed. “I don’t mean to be harsh,” the woman said, seeming… contrite?

  Xenron’s soul shook his head, then realized the gesture was useless. “No, it’s fine. I just need to be smarter about this. I’m trying to find a magical explanation for an ability that could leave your memory blank after such an incident, but nothing makes sense.”

  “So you have found something,” the woman asked, “it just doesn’t line up?”

  “The first explanation would be a powerful psychic,” Xenron started, “but someone skilled enough to chop out a specific block of memory and leave you otherwise coherent, all without being discovered, would be a disaster-level threat. I have to assume the Keep’s guard has ruled this unlikely.” Ms. Bushida nodded. “And the other is even more implausible. It’s written that Emperor Richard used a power that suppressed people’s consciousness in the Xexo-Promethean war - and that they found memories missing in the aftermath. But that war was over 200 years ago. Who knows how that magic really worked? Regardless, it hasn’t been seen since.”

  Xenron didn’t share the doubt that came to him. It’s impossible. Ms. Bushida really just lost control - there’s no good explanation for what happened. Xenron recoiled from this thought. He felt confident there were classified spell formulas that could erase or otherwise tamper with memories. He had tried to find such things, but had found his access limited at every turn. He’d sometimes been able to find his way into restricted archives due to his station, but it seemed that didn’t extend this far. Xenron raged against the constraint. How was he supposed to get anything done like this?

  But he saw that for what it was - another excuse. He should have been focusing more of his time on this problem. Leo wasn’t in true peril at the moment… probably. Showing solidarity by challenging the system that had sanctioned his sham duel and gotten him so badly hurt was important to Xenron, but it should have logically been a lower priority item. But Xenron couldn’t use logic to deal with the frozen corpse of Leo that haunted his dreams. So he balanced time between the two problems, pressed by stress about one when he focused on the other and training relentlessly between to prepare for future problems. Ms. Vale had once said that the mantle of a monarch is too heavy for anyone, and those who rule do the best they can. Trying to juggle the weight of just two lives, far less than a kingdom, Xenron saw the wisdom in that.

  “Why do you keep visiting?” Ms. Bushida asked, pulling him out of contemplation. “I’m no one to you. Rosalia is my only friend in the castle, and I know that no one back home has abilities like yours.”

  “It’s not supposed to be like this,” Xenron said. “People around me are supposed to be protected and safe. Enemies should flee from me on sight, and allies should look at my back and know they’re safe.” Xenron straightened. “That’s what it should mean to rule.”

  Xenron knew he went too far with the last piece, but he couldn’t stop himself. He saw Leo in his mind - the corpse he had briefly been, and might as soon be again. The same would happen to Ms. Bushida.

  “To… rule? You are-” Ms. Bushida became alight with shock, a thrumming green bonfire of realization that was gone as soon as it came. “Prince Xenron? Why?”

  “I suppose I should have gathered from talking with Ariel that my mental voice still carries tone. You were going to piece it together eventually.” He sighed. “Why try? Because it’s my responsibility.”

  Oddly, he thought of Greatsword of Glory, the show everyone had said was corny trash. Haruto never doubted himself. Usually, that idea gave Xenron courage. Now, it just made him sick with guilt. Xenron continued in a weak voice.

  “I thought you might have simply been a lost soul who committed a dangerous crime. I thought that this very day. I’m a weak person, Ms. Bushida.”

  “Who could blame you?” she said dryly. “I’m just a nobody who doesn’t belong, and who nearly killed a good man in a drug-addled stupor.”

  “And yet, that doesn’t add up to me. I can see your emotions, Ms. Bushida. I sincerely believe you were attacked, though I don’t know how or by who.”

  “You can see what I feel? Truly?” she said.

  In response, a terrifying idea struck Xenron. “There… may be a way. If I reveal my Distinction, it might be grounds to get you released until this matter is cleared up.”

  Ms. Bushida’s spirit soared with excitement at the idea, and then she grew angry for some reason. “And what is that going to cost you? ”

  “Secrets can be an advantage, but once I make this power stronger, that can be an advantage as well,” Xenron said, downplaying the situation.

  “So you say,” she said, “but are they really going to listen to the words of a child? If they’d take you at your word, I would already be released, wouldn’t I?”

  Xenron balled his hands into fists. “I’ll make them understand!”

  “We have to be realistic. I released explosive power in Xexen Keep,” Ms. Bushida said, her voice tense. “I could have harmed someone important like you - and unless they have overwhelming evidence that it wasn’t my fault, they will string me up for it.”

  “Then what would you have me do?!” Xenron shouted hoarsely. He somehow felt his physical body had been yelling as well.

  “You’ve already risked too much for me. You shouldn’t tell me important things. If they break me, I might say anything,” Ms. Bushida said. She tried to sound stern, but her voice trembled. “I always hated the powerful people who huddled in their ivory towers and hoarded their secrets. It feels so strange to tell you to keep yours. But… I’ve seen how you come to meals beaten and bruised every day. I have a feeling you need every secret you can get. So… just keep me company,” she said weakly. “It’s been so cold down here.”

  Xenron ran forward then, feeling his face tremble as if to cry. His ethereal form hugged Ms. Bushida. She did not retreat or try to defend herself, her previously walled soul opening up to his.

  A girl knelt in a puddle of mud, her clothes ruined. She would not be able to clean them any time soon. The harvest had been bad already, and magical beasts attacking the village had made the situation impossible. After the Mad King’s scouring, only one man remained who had a proper foundation in magic. She had seen it at work when he had set a grove of trees alight and made the night blinding. Even the monsters who killed them feared this man. The girl shook on the ground before him, hands clasped, pleading with him. When she looked up at his command, the man wore a haunted expression. His face was crossed with scars, and he stumbled and had to reset his stance when the hook replacing his left foot slid in the mud. When fire expanded in his hand, and when the irritable man ordered her to dodge, the girl had not been afraid or sad. Her emotions soared, and she obeyed without hesitation.

  Xenron backed away from the woman with a gasp, feeling both drained and stronger as a piece of her stayed with him.

  “I saw you training,” she said with a distant expression. “Why are children forced to grow up so soon?”

  “It was nothing, Ms. Bushida. You were incredibly brave in the face of real danger.”

  “We all do the best we can to carry the burdens we are given,” she replied. “That’s what he said.”

  “For a while, I couldn’t even make myself try. I was empty enough that I fixated on a corny hero story that no one thinks much of. But when I watched him fight…”

  “It made you feel brave,” the woman said. “That’s how it was with my master. He was a rude bastard, but he also fought to free us from the Mad King.”

  “Didn’t he scare you? He seemed so… angry,” Xenron said.

  “He’s probably scarier than your shiny hero,” she chuckled. “He had more scars than I could count, and no family left. It’s only natural he was that way.”

  “And… you looked up to him? Wasn’t that terrifying? I mean, could you bear it to walk the same perilous road as him?”

  “He was ground raw and weary,” Ms. Bushida said with a smile, “but never broken. He trained me just to prove it. That was enough for me. I didn’t focus on what he’d lost. I was too amazed that he was still standing.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Bushida,” Xenron said, his voice choked. “I want to free you. I want you to make your master’s hard work worthwhile. I… I just don’t know what to do.”

  “I believe you,” she said gently.

  That was when Xenron started thinking - truly thinking - about how to use his Distinction. He could see the surface emotions of a person at a glance, and if he overlaid his soul with theirs, he could see much deeper, delving into powerful memories, seemingly at random. Doing so revealed his own memories to the person he overlaid with, though. Was there a way that he could stop that? An idea struck Xenron, then another, and he realized at that moment that he could not let an innocent woman be executed without trying to stop it. First, he would try to gather intelligence and go about things the right way. But Xenron realized at that moment that he would do whatever it took to free Ms. Bushida, even if it was dangerous. That realization came as a wave of, surprisingly, relief. His course was set. That piece of Ms. Bushida’s soul within Xenron’s hummed its agreement, resonating with his resolve.

  “A direct approach won’t work, but I think there’s another way. Thanks for your wisdom, Ms. Bushida. I’ll be back.”

  ***

  The villain returned to his lair, as it should be. Drinking in the scents of alcohol and the sting of the pocket dimension itself mixed together, Alven reached Citrine’s house. She didn’t live there, of course. It was merely a meeting place. This location would eventually be compromised. Even despite their contingencies, she might be taken. Alven had to remind himself that this was still the best path. The future would align with the strongest visions. That was a reality he had long since accepted, and he knew which side of that he wished to be on. Alven put on his best agent-of-darkness face, waving to Citrine. Her cross expression told him this wouldn’t be a fun conversation.

  “Word has gotten around to our informants that a certain maintenance worker has become a mentor to the esteemed heir. Why was this not in your reports?”

  Alven shrugged, relaxing into a seat and sipping his tea. “Xenron is of no consequence. He has gotten a bit stronger, but should not pose a threat to the plan. Actually, I had the opportunity to warn him off of visiting Helios while I’m enacting it, so that’s one fewer variable because of my endless foresight.”

  Citrine glared, her beautiful lips pursed. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch, and Alven realized she was considering what to say. How unlike her… “This isn’t about your judgment, Alven. I know you’re good at your job. I’m troubled that you didn’t mention a detail of such relevance.”

  Alven sighed. “To be honest, I had hoped to reach a point that I could include him as a collaborator. But the boy is sharp. I fear if I had overstepped my station too far, he would have realized something was amiss.”

  “Could you ascertain the nature of his abilities?” Citrine asked.

  “His combat abilities are decent, but not remarkable. His formulae, better, for his age. His true nature - I could not say, but it is stranger than he realizes.”

  That gave Citrine pause. She rose, pacing amidst a row of hardlight panels. She seemed to be scanning scientific journals and news articles. Not much information on him was publicly available, but with the addition of their own confidential records, perhaps she could find something of note. She seemed to strike something of interest, her eyes going wide.

  “Your primary objective remains the same, Alven. Many dozens of departed souls are imprisoned in the Mana Transmission Terminal. You will be imbued with a large amount of our lord’s own mana and use this to entice the freed souls to form a pact. You will become their vessel to enact vengeance, in exchange for their power and retaining the agency to select their target. With the unison of their unleashed powers, you will kill the king.”

  Alven nodded, flexing his borrowed power into an aurora of shadows, shrouding him like a cloak billowing in a hurricane. “It’s a miracle our little Andross informant was able to catch the tip that he was arriving so soon.”

  “The king was sloppy in telling that Cerci girl. He should know that her allegiance is to her family. Regardless, our systems agent was able to find the log of the King’s itinerary. He arrives tomorrow morning. With luck, you may be able to catch him in his bed. Our informants suggest he sleeps alone, as his wife is infirmed. You shouldn’t have much trouble. Your affinity for Black Gate is unprecedented, so in the best case you should be able to use it even with all the castle’s warding trying to prevent the translocation. With that kind of free travel, no one below the King’s level will be of any consequence once you unite the powers. Even if you can’t teleport, you should be able to cut a path.”

  Alven listened to it all in a dreamlike state. He would most likely die, of course. But that consequence paled in comparison to the genuine esteem in Citrine’s words. She continued speaking.

  “Even if things go very wrong and you cannot reach him, you have your list of secondary targets. The powerful will see that even they are not safe within their ivory towers - and realize what little use their King’s protection is. And then, the world will turn upside down. And our lord will have the opportunity to usher in a new era. An eternal era.”

  Alven fell to one knee at this, saluting with his arm across his chest. He could not help being caught up in her emotion.

  “And,” Citrine said, “there is no need to seek out the prince if he does not stand in your way. As you say, he may yet see reason and become an asset in the days to come. I will brief you on his file momentarily. However, if he makes himself an obstacle, you know what you must do.”

  That brought Alven crashing down to cold, sober reality. He nodded his head dumbly, but the elation was gone. He would not allow that reality to come to pass. As soon as the castle was sabotaged, he would take control of the Sky Garden, unleash its hidden power, become Death, and depart for the King’s chambers - coordinates he had memorized since they leaked - immediately. He would not leave any room for failure or for interference, and he would win the day. He had sown seeds with that boy - and he was not inclined to see them fail to grow.