Seren shrank back against the seat of the carriage, something had gone terribly wrong. He should be on his way home now, eat his meal with Ruel Moss, and start work again the next day. He should be waiting there, waiting for word to reach them from the inn. So what the fuck was he doing in the back of a noble's carriage with no clue as to how far they were headed? In a moment of stupidity, he tried to bring forth his spark to make an escape. "Don't make me angry, boy" said the noble sitting leisurely across from him, "It's been an effort to find you and I'm already at my limit." Count Ironac sent a spark from his fingertip to light the lanterns overhead. "Take off your eyepatch, boy" he demanded. Seren straightened his back and stared into the glow of the noble's eyes. "My name is Seren Straw."

"Take off your eyepatch, boy " he repeated, "There's no sense in learning a name that won't be yours for long." Seren started to feel the Count's dangerous energy permeating the air between them. He stopped resisting and removed his eyepatch, the bright blue of his noble eye softly shimmering in the lamplight. The noble smiled, "My name is Count Ironac, and I'm extremely pleased to make your acquaintance... your highness." Ironac threw Seren's eyepatch from the carriage window without ceremony. "We can tell your father that you suffered an attack from the Northern Faction. That should explain your 'dead' eye." Seren touched the lid of his hazel eye, "My father...? My father is dead..." he told the Count.

"You must be confused, your highness" continued Ironac, "Your father the Tsar is living, he has been awaiting your return from the Biathian Highlands. Don't think to say anything that might upset him." Seren was trying to keep up. "Count Mercurac of the Northern Faction has died and your father is taking this opportunity of peace to bring you home to the capital. Thankfully I've kept you safe in the Highlands throughout the fighting. You must be happy to be back in Electrum after ten years, your highness, I'm sure you will wish to demonstrate your gratitude once you're safely installed in the palace." Seren was beginning to understand the insanity he was being dragged into.

"My father is the Tsar...? And I've been living with you in Biathia for ten years?" The Count gave a placating smile, "Your highness is forgetful. I was with your highness only briefly. His highness has been living with his nursemaid and guards as he diligently completed his studies. Your highness can read and write beautifully and sends letters regularly to the Tsar. His highness can also fence, ride, and has been deemed a competent archer." The Count relayed Seren's new history without room for opposition. The implication in the noble's violently blazing eyes was clear, if Seren wanted to live beyond this journey, this was the life he would have to assume.

"Then, what of my mother?" Seren asked. "Dead, your highness. The Tsarina died in childbirth" came the Count's reply. "And what of Seren Straw's mother...?" Ironac was amused, "Your highness has strange interests. I would assume his mother dead, too. And would advise the boy to consider her as such, lest he finds it to be true. I would also advise your highness not to speak of commonfolk matters again." Count Ironac reclined on the seat and closed his eyes, "It's been a long journey your highness, and I fear I must rest. In the box under under his highness's seat he can find and read the letters his father the Tsar has sent... in these ten years..." Ironac drifted off to sleep, leaving Seren to reflect on the absurdity of his situation. He was supposed to act as a prince? Then what had happened to the real prince..? From the noble's gentle snores it was evident that Seren posed no threat to his safety. The absence of fear was proof of the man's power, and it was not to be ignored. Seren was hungry, tired, and scared. Yet all he could do, all he was compelled to do in order to save himself, was to reach into the box beneath his seat and read each and every letter written by the Tsar to his son.  

The carriage rolled on at speed through the night, only stopping when the first rays of sun started to tint the horizon. The Count's eyes flicked open as the wheels stopped, and Seren wasn't sure for how much of the journey he'd been feigning sleep. "We'll take a short break, your highness" said the Count, before stretching his limbs and stepping outside to relieve himself. Seren tentatively moved to the edge of the seat and looked out at the landscape; he wasn't sure, but they should be somewhere east of the Base Stone by now. The carriage driver appeared in the open doorway. "We won't stop again until we reach the capital, you should take some air, your... Here" Jerel presented his arm and helped Seren step down. "Is there anything to eat, Mr...?" he asked the noble servant, "Jerel. You can just call me Jerel. I'll bring you some food your... highness." Jerel had been instructed by his master to treat the boy as the Prince from now on, but he still couldn't help but picture Adalina when he saw him. There was so much he wanted to say, and so many questions he wanted to ask.

They arrived in the Count's courtyard that evening under the veil of darkness and secrecy. The servants had been graciously loaned to the palace to help prepare for the Prince's return, and the house was left empty. Seren had not been allowed to open the window shade as they approached the capital, as he stepped out of the carriage he caught his first glimpse of the Electrum City, the city of the nobles. Beyond the garden walls, Seren was struck by the number of lights that lit the neighboring buildings, it was as though all the stars from the sky had descended on the earth. After being fed and bathed in the kitchen, Seren was given a room on the third floor in which to sleep, with Jerel stationed outside the door. The Count was loath to do without his servant for the night, but he was too tired to once again chase after the boy should he foolishly try to run. Besides, the Count required no food, he was fasting in preparation for the homecoming feast. With the return of the well-trained nobles from the frontline, and the flood of marriage applications that would follow, he wanted to look his best among the bachelors.

Seren found himself again in an unfamiliar room. He quietly opened the window and peeked out through the heavy curtains. With all the buildings disrupting the skyline, he could not see the moon, and it felt as though Lunis had really abandoned him. Even his mother's book was still in his room at Ruel Moss's farm. He wondered if the news of his abduction had reached Mr Moss from the village, or if he'd waited up and worried when he didn't come home. As he lay on the soft feather bed, he thought of his friends and his mother, recited the tale of Lunis and Solaris in his heart, and failed to fall asleep until the sun began to rise.

Mid-morning the next day brought a trio of visitors to Ironac's house. Seren was awakened by their sudden appearance in his room, he pulled the bedcovers up to his chin and felt around for the eyepatch that was no longer kept by his bedside. A terrified and sobbing noble woman stood between two noble guards. The woman's lip quivered and she wrung her hands as she found the strength to speak through her nerves, "Your... highness... it's time to get up now" she said. The guards were watching her closely and stepped back when she succeeded in playing her part. Seren noticed an errant spark from the guard as he moved away from the servant woman. Just how many people were forced into this conspiracy?

The woman was shaking as she approached Seren, unable to look at him directly as she pulled back his covers. Seren gently placed his hand on hers, "What's your name..?" he whispered. The woman's eyes glimmered with a pale spark behind the veil of her tears, "My name is Lida, I have been his highness's nursemaid since he was two years old..." she said with difficulty. One of the guards took a step closer and the woman's small frame shrank further, "Since... since you were two years old... your highness." Seren patted Lida's hand to comfort her, "I will need your help, Lida" he told her, "and I will help you in return, as best as I can."

As the day wore on, Seren learned more about 'his' life in the Biathian Highlands from the visitors. The older guard was named Steen, and had accompanied the young prince and Lida from the palace when the Northern Faction waged their assault. The younger guard was the Count's man from Biathia, and went by the name of Irel. Seren had yet to discover the fate of the real Prince, but Lida's constant sorrow when calling 'your highness' made him sure that something terrible must have happened. Jerel came to check on in them from time to time, and urged Seren to learn what he could quickly, for the Prince was due to 'arrive' soon in the capital. It was fortunate that Adalina had taught him well in language and mathematics, but when it came to conjuring his spark, he was still as useless as the commonfolk.

Jerel discussed 'his highness's' condition with Count Ironac in his master's study, and was met with the dismissive response he'd expected. "Does the Tsar expect a child in perfect condition?! We are returning to him a noble child, if there are defects with it they are none of my concern. 'As we arrived in Biathia we discovered a Northern Faction assassin had made an attempt on the Prince's life, and he was forced to exhaust his spark in killing the man' It's as good an excuse as the Tsar will need." Against his better judgement, Jerel tried to implore the Count, "But who will take responsibility for this attempt on the Prince, master? Also, Seren is-" Ironac slammed his hand on the desk and the servant quickly corrected himself, "His highness is now disabled. Someone will have to bear the consequences..." Jerel bowed his head and stood before his master. He may have overstepped this time, but he felt that the Count had not thought things through, and that Seren would be put in a difficult position upon entering the palace.

Count Ironac had believed this whole ordeal would be soon behind him, but now yet another worry had been heaped on his plate. "Which of the guards has family still living?" he asked Jerel. "That.. would be Steen, master.. his mother lives in Stelion." Ironac was satisfied enough, "If the Prince cannot produce a spark by the time we board the ship to Biathia, Steen will be held to account. Send someone to watch his mother, give him no chance at refusal. And Jerel" he said, as he picked up the glass of wine from his desk, "bother me again with issues relating to the Prince, and I will deliver him to the Tsar with even greater disabilities."

Seren and Lida were discussing the Prince's favorite foods when Jerel came into the room. He nodded in greeting to Steen, standing quietly by the door watching them while Irel kept guard outside. When the conversation came to a close, Lida went to prepare his highness's meal, and Jerel relieved the guards of their duties, taking Seren alone to the winter garden. The last rays of sunlight were streaming through the crystal glass windows, and the two men stood facing each other in the ornate splendor of the Count's conservatory. Jerel placed his hand in the air between them, a crackle of energy appeared between his fingers, "Have you ever brought forth your spark... Seren?" he asked. It was the first time in days that Seren had heard his own name. "Only once" he confessed, "...on the day it killed my father."