The stone walls of the fort rose high. Above them, the cool night sky stretched clear and deep, a welcome contrast to the choking darkness of the vampiric city they'd just left behind. In the large central courtyard, the survivors gathered in small clusters. The tension of battle still shimmered in every glance, every cautious step. Yet for the first time in what felt like endless hours, silence ruled over the space—a silence that invited healing. Some of them looked over themselves, checking for unnoticed injuries. Ilyas wriggled his fingers around, as he looked at his right palm, the wounds from Dawnbringers spiked left no trace, not even a slight scar,

Taldris stood at the far end of the courtyard, his tall figure outlined by the pale light of flickering torches. His vibrant red hair glistened, and his imposing armor seemed to soak in the calm of the night. He surveyed the group quietly before his voice, low yet firm, broke the stillness. 

 “Alright everyone, good job. I need everyone to report in the war room for a discussion about everything we gathered. You have two hours to do whatever the heck you want until then.” He looked at Ilyas, beckoning him to follow. “Merc, let’s get you paid.” 

 Ilyas didn’t need to be told twice. He jogged over to catch up with him. As he looked behind him, the squad stared back, Callaia’s in particular was unyielding. Her words tracing in his mind again. He shook his head, walking beside the general. They entered through two large gates to get into the fort. It was as busy as ever. Ilyas thought it looked the same as when they had left. As they made their way towards the stairs, it wasn’t his brother getting the greetings this time but Taldris. Paced to his office, where he took a seat behind his desk. He leaned back and let his arms hang loosely. “Wasn’t that just rosy.”

 Ilyas stood with his arms behind his back. The unnatural gesture coming as a result of his view of Taldris since the outpost. “At Least we got the others back.” 

 “Yeah, but,” He began to dig into his desk drawers. “I kind of guessed they’d be fine though. Aeon and Callaia are my squad Captains. “I was more worried about the twins.” 

 “I’m sorry,” he clenched his fists, wondering if it would have been different if he made it there earlier. 

 “It’s fine, I should have done more research,” he pulled out a sac, tossing it at Ilyas. He caught it, noting the weight.

 “There’s your pay, Keridium gems.” 

 Ilyas opened it, seeing the shiny rocks brought a smile to his face. “Thanks.”

 “And with that, our contract is finished, but before you go,” Taldris leaned on his desk. “I want you at the meeting.” 

 Ilyas straightened. “You sure? I’m not an official Ashen Sancti member.” 

 “To hell with that, this crap is more than just politics right now. I’ll deal with the paperwork, but right now I need you there.”  

 “I got it.” 

 “Good. Until then, you’re free to explore.” 

  As he turned to leave, he looked over his shoulder. “Oh, uh, do you know by any chance where my brother is? I want to ask him where my family are staying.” 

 “Ahh, no need.” Taldris smiled. “They’re in the palace itself. You can go ahead and visit them.” 

 “Seriously? So Karim wasn’t kidding.” 

 “Nope. Your family has a long history with us, both your fathers side and mother. I can’t imagine they’d let them stay anywhere else.” He winked. 

 Ilyas thought about the war Idris has caused. He laughed awkwardly. “Right. Can I just waltz in though?” 

 Taldris tossed him an Ashen Sancti insignia. “There you go. Just use that.” 

 Ilyas scoffed at the metal. An insignia granted to only the generals of the Ashen Sancti, he remembered his fathers one. “But-” 

 Taldris had his eyes closed, and his hands motioned for Ilyas to leave. 

 “Thanks.” 

Ilyas strode away from the fort's dim corridors, each step echoing on the worn stone as he made his way toward the royal palace. The cool night mingled with his racing heartbeat, and he couldn't help but notice the long line of armored sentries at the palace gates. It was a sight to see. There were Ashen Sancti Knights scouring the ground floor, and Watchers were situated on top of the gates walls.

"Even the palace is a fortress tonight," Ilyas murmured to himself.

Ilyas strode up the palace's steps as the cool night air mingled with the aroma of spice and old stone. At the massive gold gate, two guards in polished armor eyed him with suspicion. One guard, his voice gruff, called out, "State your business!"

Ilyas smirked softly. He had had too much stress the last few days, he needed some fun. "Business? I'm here on post, it’s my shift, don’t you know? A duty from Taldris himself. Surely you know him?"

The second guard, arms folded and eyes narrowed, replied, "Taldris? And who might you be to claim his favor?"

"Ilyas Altaria," he replied firmly. Using his fathers name. "I bear his emblem.. I'm here to see my family."

A flicker of skepticism danced in the second guard's gaze as he interjected, "Words are wind, boy. We need credentials, not idle chatter."

Without hesitation, Ilyas reached for the small, intricately carved insignia hidden within his pocket. He uncoupled it from its fabric, letting it catch the fading light. "Feast your eyes," he said with a sly grin. "This is Taldris's emblem. I’m pretty sure. Maybe. Unless he gave me a dud."

The first guard leaned in, examining the emblem's detailed dragon motif and the subtle burnished red that hinted at power. He murmured, "That is the mark of a true watcher—and a man favored by our general. Ilyas Altaria, is it?"

Ilyas's eyes sparkled with mirth. "At your service I suppose. And while I’m here I'd at least like to see you smile a bit."

The second guard softened at the remark, his posture relaxing. "The general’s orders are final."

The second guard grunted, "Then let us step aside. Proceed, and do honor to those who entrusted you."

Ilyas allowed himself a small, self-assured chuckle, tucking the emblem safely inside his pocket once more. "Thanks." They sure take their duty seriously. Guarding the royalty is no joke.

With that, he eased past the guards as they stepped aside in respectful silence. The heavy wooden doors of the palace swung open, revealing cool corridors lined with ancient stone and soft, ambient light. Voices murmured inside—hushed conversations of the rich and privileged.

As Ilyas crossed the threshold, each echoing footstep merged with the whispered promise of renewal. The doors closed behind him with a resonant thud that reverberated through the marble corridors. Ilyas paused for a moment in the foyer, his eyes taking in the grandeur of the palace. Ornate columns and delicate murals, gilded accents and sweeping arches declared wealth and power, while polished floors stretched out like endless mirrors reflecting the pomp of those who walked upon them.

"Look at this place," he murmured, half to himself and half to a nearby attendant. The attendant, a slender man with a haughty expression and meticulously trimmed beard, raised an eyebrow.

"Is it not fitting for the heirs of Endorica? The bloodlines that have kept our land safe since the Dragon was defeated," the attendant replied sharply. "Only the finest beauty graces these halls. Sir Altaria."

Ilyas snorted quietly, wondering how well the man's hearing was to catch even his name. "Beauty and exaggeration, all mixed in one. I suppose some people love to parade their status."

"I never tire of these ancient halls," He mused as he stepped alongside Ilyas by a corridor lit by soft, ambient light dancing off carved stone walls. "Each step carries a story. Have you heard of them, too?"

Ilyas tilted his head, half amused, half curious. "And what stories might that be? Honest ones, or ones wrapped in golden gifts."

A short laugh escaped the attendant. "Honestly, sir, honesty here is always wrapped in layers of gold and etiquette. The corridors conceal more than mere architectural marvels. I recall hearing hushed promises during midnight vigils and desperate signs of those who dared speak truth in whispers."

"You leave much unsaid," Ilyas replied with a wry smile, his tone softening with genuine curiosity. Despite how he mimicked the attendants' wording, he found him to be nice company. "I wonder if these storied walls ever share the comfort of a familiar embrace? The splendor is vast, yet it sometimes feels detached, like a display too grand to truly hold meaning."

The attendant paused before replying. "The palace may appear detached, but its warmth lies in those who make it their heart. Even the grandest edifice needs residents who breathe life into its corridors. In truth, it provides solace to some of the most restless souls."

Ilyas's gaze shifted to intricate carvings along a pillar. He saw an etching of a dragon, and six figures below. "I see heroes immortalized here, their victories and sacrifices captured in stone. But tell me, you who have roamed these halls so long—do you know where my family finds shelter in this endless maze?"

A mild smile spread across the attendant's face as he lowered his voice. "Your family, my lord? They have a favored place deep within the inner sanctum—a chamber resplendent yet intimate, where light mingles with gentle shadows. It is the grand reception chamber, a room that radiates both tradition and tender familiarity."

"Grand reception chamber?" Ilyas joking tone faltered, he was genuinely confused by the name. "Seems they really went all out on them."

"Indeed," said the attendant with quiet certainty. "The chamber overlooks a courtyard of memories, where each pillar stands as a testament to the legacy of Endorica. There, your kin rest. I’m sure this is quite the change of scenery."

Ilyas's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he regarded the gleaming walls. “You have no idea. Velitrae was nothing like this.” 

 “The streets of Velitrae were calm, no?” 

 “That's true, I’m not complaining, I definitely prefer it to all this.” 

A gentle nod followed from the attendant. "Then let us not delay, Sir Altaria. Your family awaits your presence."

Ilyas inhaled deeply, the cool air of the palace mingling with his anticipation. "Lead on, friend. And I’m just a mercenary, you can call me Ilyas. You?"

 “Harkon. Harkon Iriden.” The attendant stepped forward, his voice soft but resolute. "This way, Ilyas.” 

As they walked slowly down a corridor lined with faded tapestries and soft, weathered portraits, they rounded a final corner—a space softened by the glow of a single chandelier and muted whispers of the others downstairs. In the center of the chamber stood an elegant divan, surrounded by small, gleaming keepsakes and aged scrolls that tell their own tales. The air vibrated with quiet expectation.

With a gentle nod, Harkon stepped forward, pausing at the threshold of the grand reception chamber. The quiet solidarity between them filled every corner of the corridor. Then, in a measured cadence that sent a final tingle through the still air, he opened the doors.

The door opened to warmth. A fireplace was lit at the end of the living room, where he saw his three siblings. They jumped at the sight of him. 

 “Ilyas, you’re back!” Erza jogged over, her hands on her hips. 

 “Yep, it took longer than i thought.” He smirked.  

 “Who would have thought?” Kaleel chided from the seat, still looking down at his phone. 

 “I’m not complaining, got us out of school early.” Amira was doing the same. 

 “Karim told us,” Erza started as they moved towards the couch. “Some Watchers came by to relocate us, he visited a bit after, telling us you were hired by them. Seems something big is happening.” 

 “Nothing too bad. Just a rescue mission.” 

Erza looked at his eyes. “Did you get bigger? And are your eyes glowing more?” 

 “Must be all the time in Umbratara.” 

 “You were barely there.” She took a seat, noticing he didn't. “So, where are you off to now?”

 He leaned over the couch. “I’m probably going to get hired by them again. Seems whatever they’re investigating just got deeper. I doubt they’re going to let me just sleep over here either.” 

 “Well, on the brightside, at least you’re kind of a Watcher now.” Kaleel looked up. 

 “I guess so.” He placed the sack of Keridium on the table. “The pay’s good enough. Plus you guys live with royalty now, so bougie.” 

 “Someone’s jealous.” Amira snickered. 

 “Oh please, I want to do nothing more than get away from these royal fools.” 

 “You’d like the food.” 

 “I can’t argue there.” 

 Kaleel laughed. “He likes any food.” 

 Erza joined in. “I can’t argue there. So, how does it feel working with the Ashen Sancti, see anything interesting from your mission?”

"I've seen things," Ilyas murmured. “Nothing too notable. Umbratara is all messed up though. More than I thought at least. The place I was in was full of ruins.” 

 Amira leaned back. “So, what are other vampires like?” 

 “Nothing like me,” he shook his head. “Those things are all kinds of sick and twisted.” 

 “Seems like they’re just like you.” Kaleel smirked. 

 “Oh shut up.”