Lily walked hand in hand with Amber through the halls of the castle. The hallways were clean, airy and bright, but with the exception of the occasional passing servant they were empty and bare. Each footstep echoed loudly against the stone floor, and the stillness of the halls put Lily in mind of a cathedral. If it weren’t for the warmth of Amber’s hand in hers, it would have felt eerie and unsettling. “Do you really think it will work?” She asked Amber anxiously, for about the twentieth time since their tense meeting with the Kings and Queens more than a week prior. “I think things will proceed exactly as Adam has planned.” Amber answered, just as she had every time Lily asked. “But… A diplomatic meeting? Even if the Goddess agrees to come… Even if their goddess agrees to come…” “Two weeks ago, you would have said that even arranging a ceasefire would have been impossible, but Adam managed to do so practically overnight.” “And he won’t tell us how! Every time I ask he just deflects the question with some vague half-answer about showing the water king the truth of something or other. Do you really think a diplomatic meeting will be enough to end millennia of conflict?” “I think things will proceed exactly as Adam has planned. I have never known them not to, when Adam has that look in his eye.” “He does have that look, doesn’t he?” Lily agreed. “Like his force of will alone could bend steel. I’d almost forgotten…” Lily fell silent as they ambled along the halls. Perhaps unsurprisingly, their aimless wandering soon brought them to the nursery. Even now that it was clean and aired out, the large room seemed cold and lonely without any children to occupy it. Lily sighed wistfully. “You know, I always figured I’d have children someday. Not anytime soon, just… Someday. I suppose maybe we could adopt…” “You can still have children of your own, Lily. There’s nothing stopping you.” “Amber, we’re both women. We can’t…” Amber snorted and put a finger against Lily’s lips to shush her. “I’m still not a little girl, Lily. You don’t have to explain where babies come from. But honestly, do you really think I’d love you any less just because you decided you wanted children?” “You… You really wouldn’t mind?” “Would you love me any less just because you had some man make you with child?” “Of course not!” “Then why would I care? I love you, Lily. I want you to be happy. If having children would make you happy, I want you to have children.” Lily smiled faintly as she considered the matter, running a hand over one of the sturdy wooden cots. “Do you want children, Amber?” “I’ve never even considered it. But I suppose if you had children… Well, it would be nice if your child had someone to play with, I think. I don’t want anyone you love to be lonely. If we both had a child, they would be like siblings, in a way.” “That’s a nice thought… Although I suppose it would be quite awkward to just ask some man to father our children…” Lily added with a grimace. “We could always ask Sven.” “Do you think he would?” “When has that man ever not done nice and helpful things?” Lily considered the idea for a moment. They’d make for an odd sort of family, the three of them and their children. And yet… “I think I’d like that.” Maya sat in the deepest vault of the royal treasury, far beneath the surface. Her father had always scolded her when she came here. Hiding away in the depths was behaviour unsuited to a woman of her station, after all. But the feeling of earth and stone all around her was the most soothing thing she knew, and it wasn’t like her father was there to scold her any more. She missed him, of course, but now, for the first time, a small, guilty part of her mind was glad he was gone. He was a headstrong, prideful man, and he would never have agreed to a ceasefire, let alone the peace talks they were now planning. She took a deep breath, feeling the gentle, subtle movement of the stone all around her. Most people thought stone was still and unmoving, but they didn’t understand it the way she did. The whole world was constantly shifting and changing. Sometimes it was sudden and unpredictable. The land would rumble and quake, tearing great rifts into the landscape. But most of the time, it was slow, subtle and gentle. Continents gently drifted across the surface of the world. Mountains slowly rose and, in time, just as slowly got worn down by weather and wind. Despite the enormous forces constantly pressuring it, the stone moved with subtle grace. She hoped the peace talks would go as gently and as gracefully. That they would lead to a gentle shift in the world, with things slowly and peacefully drifting into something new. Something better. But when she saw the steel in Aro’s eyes, that unshakable certainty greater than anything she’d ever known, she feared that would not be the case. She feared that the peace talks would lead to something as sudden and as violent as an earthquake, and enormous upheaval that would leave everything forever changed. With a soft, worried sigh, Maya curled up against the stone wall and let the gentle vibrations of miners’ pickaxes striking stone miles away from the palace slowly lull her to sleep. “It will never work, Adam.” The Starlit Goddess said, her voice heavy with sadness. “The great evil cannot be reasoned with. She is a slave to her nature.” “How can you know that? Have you ever tried to make her see reason?” “I know it because she is my opposite, and yet also my equal. The harsh, unforgiving light to my gentle, comforting darkness. Just as I cannot change what is in my nature, neither can she.” “You have never tried to change your own nature. You simply take for granted that it cannot be done, and so you assume the same for her.” “Adam, I appreciate what you are trying to do. A peaceful resolution to this conflict is a wonderful dream, but it simply isn’t possible. The Sunlit Goddess is treacherous and cruel. You cannot trust her to keep her word. If you arrange this meeting, you will be walking into a trap.” “I’m not trusting her word. I’m trusting the word of the King of Water. His heart is as pure as my own.” The Starlit Goddess looked deep into his eyes, but she could find nothing but absolute purity within them. There was no shred of doubt. Not a hint of uncertainty or fear. She could almost feel the very nature of the world itself bending and reshaping itself around the absolute purity of will that radiated from her prince. “And you are sure that the great evil will also attend this meeting?” “I am sure, because the King of Water will ensure that she does. There is no alternative.” The Starlit Goddess hesitated for a moment longer, but finally relented. “Very well. I suppose I owe you this much for all that you have done for me and my people. I will attend this summit that you have planned. But I must warn you, I see no way in which this can possibly lead to peace.” “You may not see it, my Goddess, but to me, the path has never been clearer.” Adam turned and left. His face showed no emotion, but his eyes seemed to glow with infinite confidence. “I still can’t believe you’re doing this.” Dahn grumbled. “We should be out there fighting, not scuttling around the palace preparing for peace talks.” “I suppose you’d rather see thousands of men and women burning to ash as our troops descend on their mad princess?” Aro replied archly. “She’s not that powerful.” “She is. You would have sensed it yourself if you weren’t so self-obsessed.” Dahn growled, but he didn’t contest the accusation. “Believe me, Dahn.” Aro continued. “This is the only way forward. The water-prince and I both understand this.” “I can’t believe you managed to convince the Goddess to go along with this soft-hearted nonsense.” “I simply had to show her that my determination was absolute.” “More so than her own? You’re treading awfully close to blasphemy, Aro.” Aro reached into his pack and withdrew a fragment of the heart of earth. Dahn’s eyes grew wide when he recognized the crystal, and grew wider still when he realized the fragment was perfectly bisected straight down the middle. “It is not hubris if the purity of my will truly does surpass that of the Goddess.” Dahn remained silent. Sven was sitting cross-legged in a stone quarry about an hour’s ride from the capital. Like most quarries in the kingdom, it was the property of the crown, so the workers had been only too happy to lend him a corner of the space for the time being. All around him, huge blocks of stone spun and orbited in complicated patterns as he guided and directed them with his magic. Sweat was pouring down his face from the sheer mass of stone he was holding aloft, but he persevered. Adam said they were organizing a diplomatic summit. He spoke of negotiations and peace treaties. But no-one knew Adam better than he did, except possibly Amber. He knew there was something Adam wasn’t telling them. He grunted with exertion as the heavy blocks of stone slipped from his grasp, falling from the sky and slamming into the ground with enough force to shake the entire quarry bed. Sven panted heavily as he shook the stars from his eyes, his head swimming with exertion. He wasn’t strong enough. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew it was important. He couldn’t afford to be weak. People’s lives might depend on it. With narrowed eyes, he raised his hands once more. “Again.” Slowly, ponderously, the massive stone blocks rose into the air. Yala sat atop the windward spire, looking out at the swirling patterns that formed in the air when the smoke of the factories got caught in the permanent magical storm that powered the mills in the grinders’ district. The powerful enchantment had been maintained by her family for generations, and the magic sang to her as the breeze twirled and spun. But Yala found no respite in the melody of the storm. She had known Aro since he was but a babe, but even then she had seen the potential that rested within him. Most infants could barely focus their eyes, but Aro’s gaze had been confident and unwavering from the day he was born. At five months, he spoke his first words, at nine months he walked unassisted. By his first birthday, he had already begun to grasp the magic of his element. She had always known that he would lead the kings and queens one day. She had always known he had a destiny. But she had never seen him like this. Twenty-eight years she had known the man, but she had never before seen the sheer level of determination he gained that day when he met with the prince of water. Even here, surrounded on all sides by ancient wind magic, she could still feel Aro’s power radiating from the palace below. She had felt many things for the man in the years she had known him. When he was but a child and she had acted as his tutor, she had been proud of his talent and his progress. When he ascended to the throne at the young age of fifteen, she had admired him. When he led her into battle, her loyalty to him had been absolute. But now… Now she was afraid of him. But afraid or not, she would follow his lead without hesitation. There was no other option. There never had been. He was the King of Kings, and his word meant more to her than even the wishes of the Goddess herself. That was why, when Aro had spoken of his plans and she had seen the hidden truths and lies of omission in his words, she had said nothing.