Sir Aldon stared upward at the bringer of chaos, his mouth agape as he beheld the creature , he could not even define it as man.

A man was someone with enough reason to at least check himself, the beast seemed the complete opposite of it.

He might have stood thus until the day he crumbled into dust, frozen by the sheer, radiant lunacy of the man who was so deep in his own legend that he could not see the water rising to his throat.

He could probably burn himself by laying on fire if he convinced that was but the ultimate of passions a man could have.

And so unable to comprehend from where such lunacy and self-gloriousness came from, he could have just staid there still, were it not for the flicker of duty that still smoldered in his breast.

Such a man, could never be allowed to sit upon the high seat. Never, He realised.

"Only a madman could look upon that monster and see anything but a cockroach to be crushed beneath an iron heel," Aldon spat, his intent plain enough to smolder the alliance in the steam.Fox and Bull could not be allowed to go feather by hoove.

"He is a man who holds no reverence for our traditions, no love for chivalry, and no fear of our laws. Only you, could witness the way he has spat upon our sacred ways and deem him worthy of respect.A worm finds a peer only in another worm."

He lunged toward the bars, his face inches from the prince’s golden-bathed light. "Trickery is his only steel! What oath is sacred to a Fox? What boundary do you think him unable to cross? What crime is beneath a man whose first act was to drench his hands in the blood of his father-in-law,lay with his daughter and then slaughter every branch of the family tree that dared oppose his theft of the Yarzat throne?

What trust can such a man hold for others? And what fool would lay their trust in him? He shall have a dagger in your back long before you have the chance to contend with your uncle’s steel!"

The knight’s breath hitched, his chest heaving as his words seemed to vanish into the stale air of the pit.

"Congratulations, my Prince! You have done his bidding to perfection. You have thrown a stick into the League’s spokes and saved the Fox from certain destruction.

And now...what?What’s there?

You think he will come to your aid now? With the full, vengeful might of Kakunia marching to take your head? You think he will do anything but look in your direction and laugh at the beautiful fool who burned his own house down to save another’s? If you truly believe a man like him is deserving of trust, then you are as fool as you are madl!"

It was the third time he had called him so.

He was not mad. He never was, Merelao reasoned. Another lie that his uncle had woven to tarnish his image, just like the snake he had sent his way so that he would never grow into adulthood.

It was a lie.

And he hated those.How beautiful would a world be if only honest truly laid there?

A white-hot flash of anger contorted his features. For a heartbeat, the mask of the refined artist of life slipped, revealing the raw, volatile fire of the mad blood that ran through his veins.

But then he calmed down. All at once, as if that anger never existed, the water that came unruly as the sea in his soul, came abated until it was a still lake.

He forced his fingers to uncurl from the bars he was gripping, one by one, drawing a long, shuddering breath of the dungeon’s damp air. When he spoke again, it came with restraint.

"I shall not demean myself," He announced his eyes looking down in disillusionment at the man he had hoped to swear to his service. "I shall not offer threats, nor shall I deliver the punishments your tongue so richly deserves. I had hoped you would see me, but now I know how foolish I was.

But to strike a man in chains, to torment those powerless to do anything but receive my whims... that would be unjust. It would be unworthy of me"

He smoothed the cerulean silks over his breast, his composure returning like a calm sea after a gale. "You are my guest, Ser Aldon. And I will not have it said that Merelao was a poor host to the dying. As for my alliance with the Fox... you speak a truth I have already weighed and measured. No aid shall come from my ally. I knew that before I put my steel to your throat.I am not as dull as people make me to be."

He tilted his head, a faint, melancholic smile playing upon his lips. "But I require no hand but mine own. If I am to accomplish the impossible, it must be my fingers that grasp the lightning. The man you speak of is indeed deserving of half the sins you lay at my door. He is a monster, perhaps, just as I am a devil.

Fire can find warmth only on fire, is that it?

And you are right to ask of trust. What trust can exist between such creatures?

Our fellowship is but a fleeting thing, a bridge built across a chasm. We shall join hands against our shared enemy, clasping at the glory that falls from the sky, bathing in the radiance of a day born from the blood we spill together. We will dine as brothers, sharing bread and wine while the world burns around us.And we shall sing. Sing and dance. Dance and sing....and then... no more."

"So another betrayal is it?" Aldon spat. This time more calmly.

"No," Merelao whispered, and for the first time, his voice held no falso artifice, only pure truth.

"Never betrayal. My very soul has been too tainted by that rot to ever make use of such a base tool. When the hour of our steel arrives, it shall come with the sun at our backs. I shall announce my coming long before the first blow is struck. I shall send heralds and trumpets to tell him that his peer has arrived to claim the prize."

He stopped, his gaze fixed on the flickering lantern flame. A profound sadness settled over his features. It was the look of a man contemplating a beautiful statue he knew he must eventually shatter.

"The South is a magnificent stage, Ser Aldon, but it is not wide enough for the two of us to share the light. One of us must eventually give way to the dark so that the other may soar. It is a tragedy of the highest order. I have searched the world for a peer, a man whose shadow matches my own, and having found him, I find also the necessity of his end."

He sighed, sad and yer resilient in what he had to do.

"There can be only one protagonist when the curtain falls. I shall mourn him, I think. I shall mourn the only man who truly understood the music I play. But the song must have its finale.

I hope it will not come to death, and that indeed one of us shall bow to the other.If he does I would welcome him with open hands.

But I know his heart, and I know my own. Neither of us was born to kneel. If he wishes to stand alone upon the stage, he must needs plunge his steel into my breast."

A single tear traced a path through the dust on his cheek, falling as silently as the summer rain raging against the earth above. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, his features hardening once more.

"But enough of such ghosts! We shall have an eternity to mourn in the future; for now, we must bathe in the present. I have laid the truth bare before you, Ser. You have seen the ink and the seal. You have seen how my uncle conspired to steal the sun from my sky. By the Father , Protector of Laws, that throne is mine by right of blood and birth."

He leaned closer to the bars, his eyes searching the old knight’s face. "Lord Varo spoke of your honor as if it were a holy relic. It would mean the world to him, and to me, if you would declare for my cause. Your name still carries the weight of a mountain in these lands. My uncle grew fearful of you, didn’t he?

He grew hesitant because of your bond with my father, exiling you to these dusty, useless posts that were beneath a man of your stature. If you follow my banner, you will find no more shadows, only the respect and glory you have earned a dozen times over.

Ser Aldon The Brave. The Bold. The Rightful. Swear to me and come where you can be honored."

The knight spat on that declaration.

His lip curled in a snarl of pure, concentrated loathing. "I have seen your ’glory,’ boy. It smells of the grave. If the choice is between you and the Prince’s bastard, then I pray the throne goes to Sir Latio. Better a baseborn boy on the high seat than a fool and a madman. Of me, you shall have nothing but bones."

The knight leaned forward and spat a glob of phlegm at Merelao’s polished, silk-covered boot.

Merelao did not flinch. He looked down at the mess as if that were not his feet, then back to the knight, his expression one of piteous, haunting and saddened disappointment. "Varo shall cry tears for you , Ser. He truly shall."

"Give me a fight, then!" the knight growled "If you have a shred of the chivalry you boast of, face me with steel. End this farce!"

Merelao nodded slowly, the golden light of the torch playing across his brow. "I promised you a dance, did I not? I am a man of my word. In a moon’s time, we shall meet upon the sands."

"Why wait a moon?" Aldon demanded, his voice echoing in the stone throat of the dungeon. "Do you wish me to rot further? Do you want to wait until I am too weak and starved to lift a shield, so your ’legend’ can be won against a skeleton?"

"On the contrary, Ser. I want the opposite. No glory will come from easy victories. I wish to give you the chance to fight for your beliefs with the full strength of your prime. The gods shall see who has the right and bless the victor’s sword.

You shall be properly fed, and you shall rest in a bed of goose-down. I want my opponent at his fiercest, not boast myself of slaying its carcass."

He reached down and set the lantern at the base of the bars, its amber warmth bleeding into the cell. "The young one looks as though he would favor some light," Merelao said, glancing at the trembling Rolan. "I shall send men shortly to move you to lodgings more befitting your rank. You shall have wine, meat, and the sun upon your face. Something comfortable, where the air does not taste of the tomb."

Aldon let go of the bars, his shoulders sagging with a heavy, begrudging weight. He looked at the light, then at the Prince. "I thank you for it. Both the light and the opportunity" he muttered, his voice tired. "But for nothing more.’’

’’I shall still found use for you in death, worry not ser. Rest and pray for the gods to give you strength. You shall be in need of it.Let no one say I wasn’t as just as I proclaimed. Farewell ser.

Next time we our gaze beheld each other, one shall cease forever.’’