darkSpyro

Draikon raised an eyebrow, wondering just how badly thing happened to have Seraos so suspicious of that.
“General Lyon? You mean the merman who rarely leaves the water? Why no. He was here?” Draikon asked, knowing that one tiny slip could make the paranoid Seraos even more suspicious than he already was. Draikon was mostly a loner and wouldn’t have a need to lie about anything, and he knew Seraos since he was a little boy, so at least he had that to back him up.

He quickly proceeded to the point to change the subject.
“Anyway, I’m not here for that. Behold, the tamaro. You can call it something else later if you want my king. My interest in botany has finally paid off. This little baby can grow it’s precious fruits in a matter of hours. What’s more, it can grow in ANY season. No more waiting for the right time of the year or days between harvests. This plant can grow fruits any time of the year, and you just need to wait several hours for the next fruit to grow. Just imagine, no more hunger issues for the people. Even behemoths could benefit from the food.” Draikon assured, explaining as if this was just a casual visit to show off one of his experiments.

He would wait for the king to pop up the news about the satyr himself. For now, this was just business.
“Be aware though, this, along with the rest in my lab, are just prototypes. The plant itself lasts just a little more than two weeks. The growth is too much for it to handle, but I’m working on it’s longevity. For now, it’s the best product available.” Draikon concluded, taking a fruit and eating it to demonstrate it was harmless food. The fruit was slightly smaller than an apple, but just as red.

Seraos nodded along as Draikon gave his explanations. Such a food source, even if the plant didn't taste good, would at the very least be invaluable for maintaining behemoths, which would mean more food for everyone else.
"Seems the fruit tastes well enough to eat plain without any significant reaction," Seraos commented. "It would still be useful for supplementing behemoth diets either way. I'll let the research department to know I'm interested in this, and to coordinate with you to provide the appropriate resources and funding to look into such an endeavor."
Seraos didn't forget about the other thing he mentioned, however. "And yes - General Lyon was here. He left here to Redwater in a hurry." Seraos didn't reveal exactly how much he knew, or how he knew it - he'd let the other party wonder if his knowledge extended past his initial words.

Seraos seemed to be avoiding the satyr subject altogether. Was it because of his reputation as a mythical creature fanatic? Or was it because he suspected General Lyon had something to do with his visit today? The latter seemed a bit unlikely, but nevertheless, Draikon was willing to keep his promise. He wanted Seraos to believe that Lyon leaving and him arriving the same day was just coincidence.
“Oh he was, huh? Interesting. That merman and his warriors don’t spend too much time on land. Let me guess, the shapeshifter is driving them crazy. Had a couple of soldiers coming to me yesterday, desperately asking me if I have something that might help catch it. Not many would come to me so willingly. I can try helping, but that’s not my department.” Draikon said, the shapeshifter news annoying him, but right now glad he could bring it up and keep Seraos’ suspicions away. He was a scientist, not a wizard, so he had his limits.

With the room now cleaned and nothing else to do, Angora lied down on her bed, wanting to get some early sleep. It was a progressive day, but a stressful one too. At last, Veris knew her plans, but she was afraid their relationship would be strained from now on. Not only that, but Maverick was many miles away now, so he wouldn’t be able to console her when she returns to his house in the next weekly break. Ilasi was friends with her, but it wasn’t the same, and she didn’t want to burden the children with her problems. It was going to be a rather awful night. She only hoped Neo would at least be able to keep nightmares away.

"I generally try to take a look into things every now and again," Seraos answered. "My people do bring up things which are rather unusual, however. A general in a great rush to get to Redwater - nothing significant by itself, except he was speaking to be before his trip, and made no such mention of anything requiring such urgency. Rather unusual for a general to keep a king in the dark about such matters, yes? He just happened to have been seen around your district, where nothing urgent is happening... yet you show up, in around the time it would take you to arrive if you were to leave after he were to speak to you then."
Once again, Seraos revealed, a little at a time, what he knew, rather than showing his whole hand. Though the sources of some information were more obvious, there were some that weren't quite as easy to identify - some who answered directly to the King instead of any other authority.

It was quite marvelous that Seraos was informed so fast about the general being around his area. Was he bluffing? Or maybe something more speedier than a wyvern brought the news to him.
“Around my area? Well, maybe he was just patrolling. Or perhaps he did plan to visit me and ask for help in catching the shapeshifter like those other two, but decided at the last minute to leave. You know how your soldiers feel about me.” Draikon assured, being common knowledge that, despite his great services to Aelinon, Draikon wasn’t very popular among the guards.
“I arrived here because I was excited to show you my new invention and didn’t want the night to catch up with me, but... guess I’ll have to fly in the dark again. Bummer. Had to fly slow to prevent the plant from blowing away.” Draikon said with much calmness, being cool under pressure. There were times where many civilians would visit him in his lab asking for cures against pains that were minor and not life threatening, so he had plenty of experiences making up excuses and explanations out of the blue in order to get the dumb people to leave without the need to have them thrown out.

After much pondering and fearing Draikon could betray him or be found out, General Lyon took a decision.
“You have to leave boy. Take your whale. Tell your friend’s parents where she is, but don’t let anyone try to get here. Tell Sergeant Farlo I’ll try my best to rescue her. But you have to leave! Now!” The general urged, knowing that if the boy was found, he’ll be captured as well, regardless of whether he committed a crime or not. Sirens and mermen were similar, but the physical differences were noticeable enough to tell they were different species. The boy refused to leave without his friend, but Lyon was scary enough to convince him.
“Lydia, make sure nobody follows us. Boy, call your whale.” Lyon instructed, and the boy used some sonar signals, and Misty came with loyalty.
“You’ll have to travel in her mouth at all times. You can’t afford to be seen, not above or below water. Now go! Go! I’ll help your friend. I promise. My regards to your people, and I’m sorry you have to go through this.” the general apologized, leading the whale into more open waters and pretending he was just helping a lost creature. Unlike sirens, mermen couldn’t communicate with marine life, but they could create strong bonds with them. A few mermen could communicate, but it was rare.

"A General of all ranks is not going to be going on patrol with the typical footsoldiers or knights," Seraos responded. "But otherwise... what you claim is plausible, so I'll press you no further on the matter." Seraos wasn't sure whether Draikon was telling the truth, or was boldly sticking to his story and betting on the king having no further information - either way, Seraos never volunteered information his sources did not provide, as people would fear such pressing much less if they determined that anything he said was based on guesswork rather than anything concrete.
"You see, Draikon, empirical observation often does not always work in a position such as mine - people aren't always upfront with you. You'll have bootlickers feeding you whatever BS they think you want to hear, while real problems are building up. They'll tell you about how great a job you are doing - right until you're dragged to the execution platform because you were a great failure without realizing it. So I have to keep an ear to the ground - and I have many ways to do just that. More than many people realize. Now, of course I don't ask my top men to tell me about absolutely everything they do - but it is a little odd that one would leave in a rush after expressing their own misgivings about my actions, without telling me what prompted such urgency."
Seraos gave a slow, almost frustrated sigh. "And the truth is, regardless of what I do, there are people who want me dead. Most just wish; some plan. Some rather clever folk are only stopped because the Silent Spear is extremely sharp; some are only stopped because the Royal Guard is made up of many of our best men. Many people who try to kill me are stupid. Some... are a combination.
"Now, Draikon, I'm almost certain that you care less about whether I live or die than you do about whether I can help your experiments, considering you complained about the rough search rather than ask about what could prompt such change in procedure, like any curious scientist would. Simply disliking me or having little regard for me, however, is not a crime of itself; you have not broken any laws, and still serve your nation well. Regardless, you will have a very different idea of what is acceptable or necessary than I will; because of this, cases like the recently arrested satyr, an incident I'm certain will be disseminated in papers very soon for those who haven't already heard, will be handled in a way consistent with the matter I must handle anything which can be construed as an effort to compromise my safety, until I have reason to believe otherwise. In this case, with the satyr being either unable or unwilling to help us in the matter, this would involve going through the legal system, in the same manner as anyone else who commits a crime while under the age of 15. Now, let me ask you a question; do you consider my actions in response to such an event to be paranoid, or reasonable?" Seraos looked at Draikon expectantly for an answer...

Draikon listened carefully, making sure he heard every last bit of that little speech. And finally, the moment he was waiting for.
“My liege, you sound so stressed. I could provide you with... hold on, did you say... satyr? Did I hear that right?” Draikon commented, acting with enough excitement to be convincing, but not to the point of exaggerating.

“Wait, let me see if I get this right. You... have a satyr in custody? But that is GREAT news... or not? What did the creature do to deserve prison? Or will you have it studied? Forgive me, but I’m afraid I don’t understand why would you question me on such a matter. You’re telling me that you have a satyr, and now you ask me if you’re paranoid or reasonable? Now why would you ask that? Does it have something to do with this satyr? Although you know what? Never mind, you can give me the details of the capture later. Forgive me for complaining about the search earlier. I don’t like my personal space being invaded like that. I understand now you must have your reasons. First of all, if you truly want my response, I know you are a most fair king, always looking for the best for your people. I have known you since you were but a boy, and I know it hasn’t been easy ruling at such a young age, but you try your best. Foolish people will try to assassinate you, but that’s just one of the prices for being a king your majesty. You can’t please everybody, no matter how much good you do. What’s important is that you remain just and grow in wisdom. Look back at your progress, then and now. Why, who would’ve thought you would capture a satyr? Many people spend a lifetime without ever seeing one.” Draikon commented, in a better mood than before. He has been angry with what General Lyon told him, but some time in the air gave him time to cool off. When he spoke, Draikon made sure he didn’t used the word she when referring to the satyr, otherwise Seraos would know he knew the gender. He was smart, and always knew he had to be careful with words, even if he could falter when someone was being rude to him.

Once the humpback whale was at enough distance, Lyon returned home, with his daughter making sure nobody had been around.
“He‘ll be fine now Lydia.” he said, knowing that his daughter has been growing fond of him.
“I’m afraid father. What if... king Seraos finds the island? Or that... you are involved with it’s secret?” she asked, deathly afraid of losing her father,
“I regret nothing Lydia. It’s not like I am committing a crime. If I am keeping secrets, it’s to protect a sacred place, full of sacred people. Simple as that. But if the king suddenly decides such a thing is a crime, well, let him do whatever he wants with me. I am aware of what I’ve done, and I am pleased and certain I’m doing the right thing. You are my successor Lydia. You’ll do great things. I’m certain of it. I’ll be careful, but if something does happen, I know you’ll be fine.” General Lyon assured, consoling his distraught daughter, who couldn’t fathom the idea of her father being executed if he was deemed a traitor to the nation. She did believed he was right though. He wasn’t doing anything morally bad. What he was doing was very noble, but Seraos might think otherwise. He was becoming harsher with anyone he deemed a criminal, especially after the Ishulgite war. She was starting to be afraid of her own monarch.

Draikon's mood seemed to change rather suddenly. Seraos wasn't sure whether such a thing was a legitimate product of having a different perspective, or Draikon simply seeking to appease him by supplication. Regardless, Seraos had no reason at the moment to disregard the man.
"Yes, we captured her after she turned herself in following her attempts to breach security, and the following attack on one of my Royal Guard and use of a magical artifact to incapacitate the rest and escape. Finding food on this continent when everyone would be able to identify you and the most expert trackers are searching for you - seems she decided not to take her chances with that. What I'm more concerned about, however, is wherever this child came from. A child doesn't just choose to try to fight the Royal Guard on her own one day - so why is she here? Where did she come from? Does this, perhaps, have anything to do with one of my own generals keeping secrets from me, as he tried to push for clemency for her?
Seraos gave a bit of a relaxed smile - very slight though it was - in contrast to his previous manner. "These answers, I don't know - but I've always had to find out the truth from those who would lie to my face. People know I try to be everywhere, with how often I move about and how many places I can fly to in a day. A scientist like yourself, I'd imagine, knows very well that it's easiest to study the true nature of a specimen when they are unaware that they are being observed - and those who feel they can keep major secrets from me regarding such an event will soon learn that I might be where they don't expect me to be."

Galuds were known to be naturally shrewd, stealthy, and pragmatic, and this in combination with some of their more resilient crime rings often gave them the reputation for being duplicitous backstabbers as a result. However, such a thing was a twisted exaggeration of certain aspects of their general nature, to the exclusion of others. They were very social creatures who often worked in teams in hunting parties as a matter of instinct. Though they were, of course, not above deceit, outright treachery against those who one either owed allegiance to or was otherwise expected to have mutual loyalty to was not only considered a grievous crime, but the mark of someone too depraved to be compatible with galud society on a most basic level.
Though such a nature did not strongly extend into purely transactional relationships such as a typical job, they commonly did into anything that there was a mutual stake, a sense of allegiance, an emotional connection, or otherwise had connections established in a way that were at least slightly more complex than something which would allow one to walk away or be dismissed from them at any given moment. Galuds often tended to ostracize those who were disloyal to some capacity - in older times, many would often kill those involved just by the nature of the action, but a lawful society prevented such things from happening, which was especially important for cases involving a misunderstanding or framing. For example, a galud who was found to be unfaithful to their spouse (rather than just some fling) could find themselves struggling to find work and could be rejected from their social circles; however, a galud who exposed the infidelity of a longtime friend who confessed the matter in confidence could find themselves suffering the same treatment. As great as one treachery was, more treachery from a different party in response was seen as unacceptable; you provided no net benefit to society by creating more untrustworthiness, and had only proven that you could not be trusted with more sensitive matters if you felt that what you heard was disagreeable enough to warrant being exposed.
Naturally, the needs of a more advanced society had to trump old values and traditions to at least some extent, even if it didn't erase them; for example, as laws became more important, especially as galuds integrated with other species, it had to become easier to expose criminals. Thus, one had to be able to interrogate or subpoena a galud who might have pertinent information regarding something, even if they had a connection to someone else; exemptions could be made for very close friends, though one had to be able to prove that such a connection was very strong and well-established. However, such a thing didn't prevent society from treating significant disloyalty like they did before in the cases it wasn't forced.
Though galuds, like other races, generally feel some sense of societal obligation to root out criminals, some more established crime rings among galuds have proven harder to break, due to the strong connection felt between galuds who are all in a criminal endeavor together; it is much harder to get accomplices in such a ring to rat each other out. Often, such a thing is only managed by pitting several loyalties against each other - such as letting a galud know that he and all the friends he risked his neck on jobs with together would get clemency if he exposed the ringleader directing from some well-kept office in his hideout.

Those most adept at finding the most concealed criminals would happen to be, with a few exceptions, galuds themselves - the Silent Spear. Though technically a part of Aelinon's military, the Silent Spear was unique in that it was not beholden to the rest of the command structure - it had its own chain of command, and their leader, Skarp, was a galud who answered only to the king. Likewise, their authority was granted directly by the king, and anyone, regardless of rank or authority in Aelinon, had to comply with the orders they gave in matters involving their duties.
This very same tradition of loyalty made them the most staunch allies of Aelinon's kings throughout their history. Unlike the rest of the military, their loyalty was specifically to the throne and its interest - as cruel as it seemed, and as questionable as it was initially, it was determined and gradually accepted that even the most unpopular king needed an authority he could rely on to always be on his side, to discourage actions taken from complete paranoia in the absence of any trust whatsoever.
The Silent Spear, along with the Royal Guard, was an essential part in keeping the king safe from those plotting against him or his interests. Just as they had exceptional loyalty... they also had an exceptional ability to root out those who were disloyal. Many of their actions were not taken directly by order of the king, but were rather a proactive effort - too many threats existed that would endanger the king before he realized they existed. Very often, they briefed the king on the most pertinent threats once they had identified them and began investigating or taking action.
As it turned out, they were very good at their purpose - an art honed over centuries. When they were making an effort to be hidden, they could be practically undetectable - and the most powerful men often failed to consider that there were limits to how much their power would let them get away with...

Draikon closed his eyes, knowing that the king has been too frustrated lately with everything that has happened to the past five years that sometimes he was more ruthless than he needed to be. He knew he had to choose his words carefully or the stressed monarch would misunderstand his words. It was bad enough that he was distrusting General Lyon himself, whom has been loyal to Aelinon even before Seraos received the crown.
“So it’s a she. Interesting. My liege, I have read every book and catalogue that exists in Aelinon that talks about creatures like satyrs. None say they are violent, but of course, they are very old literature and it’s very possible their nature have changed in the centuries that have passed. I am not certain what would possess this satyr to attack a guard like that, but dwelling on the matter should be our top priority. Which is why I will request your permission to study her in a controlled environment. Let me observe her, all night if needed. I shall help you find the answers you seek, and if we are lucky, she’ll talk in her sleep. Many with restless minds will let certain matter slip when in deep sleep, letting out subconsciously what’s tormenting them or what they’re hiding.” Draikon suggested, certain that after much thought, Seraos would agree on the idea.

There was something else he needed to add though.
“Nobody should be above the law, I agree, but the new prisoner is a being that hasn’t been seen in years. Maybe she got lost, or if she’s here on purpose and with ill intentions, why take such a risk against men that are heavily armed and clearly numerous? I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility that the creature is not aware of how things work in Aelinon. Her reality could be very different from our own. If she had known how our laws work, I doubt she would’ve turned herself in like that. Maybe it’s because she’s just a kid, but who knows? Most criminals know what they’re up against, and would rather go down fighting the guards than facing the harsh punishment of a prison or the arena. But we’ll never know for sure unless we observe her. Sometimes observation works better than interrogation.” he added, trusting Seraos would understand he was making sense. Draikon wasn’t going to be able to sleep with a satyr in custody anyway, so he wasn’t going to mind staying up all night.

Though Seraos doubted - or at least was unsure of - Draikon's sincerity in his respect, the fact remained that Draikon's own personal beliefs weren't a crime, and weren't something Seraos could hold against him outside of either personal matters or very egregious cases. Draikon was, as evidenced by his many qualifications, a very smart man, in many identifiable ways. For one, he knew how to play the "game", and as much as Seraos really wished everyone could be upfront about their opinions regarding him, he realized that showing a lack of tact and respect was rarely in anyone's best interest. Draikon knew how to present himself, and could redeem himself even in cases where his occasionally presumptuous nature would initially seem to damn any of his efforts at diplomacy to failure. Even with Seraos being as suspicious and questioning as ever, Draikon always seemed to know what to say, and had a plausible justification - even if it was an act, Seraos could respect that. And after all, it really did seem reasonable that Draikon's involvement was a coincidence - in all his time, with all of the more dangerous applications one could extrapolate from the proposed application of some of his breakthroughs, the people who had visited him have piqued the suspicion of the Silent Spear more than Draikon himself - the fact that General Lyon was so careless with his clandestine efforts immediately after leaving Tal Rogas, yet Draikon wasn't even noted by the Silent Spear as anything more than a person of interest regarding Lyon. Though there was, of course, no guarantee that the Silent Spear simply had a gap in their intel, there was a pretty good chance that Draikon knew how to keep his nose clean after all this time.
As hard as Seraos always tried to control which expression he had, he couldn't help but let out a smile - just for the tiniest flash, however.
"Damn it, Draikon... every single time. Every time... No matter how hard you're pressed for a reason for something you've said or done, you have one - not just an excuse, but a plausible explanation that I cannot contradict. No matter what doubts people have about your philosophy, you always produce results. No matter what misgivings I have about you, you always deny me any reason to conclude that there is anything more than shallow, personal reasoning for them - and as you probably know, I have tried before to catch you. And no matter what shallow, personal reasonings I have, I can never justify them in the face of someone who, time after time, makes consistently logical proposals, and produces consistently effective results.
"Go ahead. I have to respect your mental agility. Indulge in this moment. Have this down to a science like everything else, eh? Who knows, maybe you're too good, and will be the death of me one day, with nobody the wiser. Certainly a lot better than the idiot who tried to sneak many barrels of black powder below the castle, like it's not being watched and black powder isn't one of the most strictly tracked goods..."
Seraos' tone became slightly more subdued and serious as his expression became more stern. "Shame others aren't quite as good at the game as you. Those who seem reliable - but slip once and soon expose their duplicity. I know you're a good actor, but you haven't been in a position where you can do untold damage because I trust you. There are many areas I'm wanting in - and because of that, I have to trust. Those who take advantage of that trust, and prove that it was misplaced? I might be able to forgive such a thing if it was just me they were wronging. But the fact of the matter? I lead the kingdom. Misleading me is misleading the kingdom. My life is not my own - maybe it was, when I was younger, but the only games I get involved with are diplomacy meetings like these, or some arena event that my presence would be missed at.
"I am the face of the kingdom. My words carry weight - and when I squander them in a bout of capriciousness, they can lose the power the kingdom needs them to have when it matters. That is something that, no matter how many times I explain, others can never seem to understand. My words aren't my own, my decisions aren't my own, my time isn't my own, I don't even get to permit my own death. Can you imagine that? A world where you can go down as the suicidally overconfident moron who caused his kingdom to implode in a power vacuum because he had too big an ego to protect himself from assassins?
"You can observe this satyr in her prison cell. But I have already cast the die - I gave my word that I would not intervene if she did not help us. If I take my word back for the sake of a child, then what happens when I need to make a threat or warning in the future? We can easily lose ten, a hundred, a thousand people, or maybe more, because someone decided to test me to see if I would go back on my word, instead of complying at once. No - I gave my word, the consequences follow. No one is special enough for me to add clauses to that for their sake. Hopefully you will be able to find the other answers we seek - a man who finds me the same truth others try to hide from me. I think that sounds nice..."

Meanwhile, a messenger - a galud at this time of day wouldn't take long to locate General Lyon after being given the details. He hastily ran over, knowing little about the message than it was urgent.
"Good evening, General," he greeted with a salute, before hastily handing over the message scroll. It had the seal of General Skarp, head of the Silent Spear. If one were to open the scroll, it would, in some scribe's very formal, yet clear handwriting, read:
"General Lyon,
You are hereby required to immediately make your way to Tal Rogas Castle and report to the throne room for the scheduled meeting of the Council, by order of General Skarp. There are to be no detours in your trip."

Draikon knew Seraos was being suspicious of pretty much everybody lately, but this... he felt like he was being insulted.
“My liege, you have offended me. You honestly believe that? A game? You really think I just say things you want to hear using smarts? After all these years of loyalty and service, you suddenly decide to doubt this old man?” Draikon asked, feeling like his very dignity was being trampled.
“I know many people don’t like me. I know my methods are not the best, and my personality can be too much for many. That doesn’t mean I’m a bad person out to manipulate others for my own personal gain. Now, I won’t deny the fact that the idea of studying a rare satyr excites me, so I thank you for the opportunity, but that’s NOT the only reason. I get it though. You are stressed. You have too much on your shoulders. You have missed so much of your youth trying to be the best king you can be, but never forget to take some time for yourself. To calm down. I have a tonic that can help with your nerves. Just remember dear boy, don’t let every situation that comes your way overwhelm you. Don’t let it take control of you, but above all, don’t take your frustration out on those that try their best to be of service to you. Suspecting and challenging people’s minds all the time will only cause them to be cautious and fearful of you. I understand why you don’t want to show weakness or hesitation, but if you behave accusingly to everyone coming your way, they’ll just start to question themselves. The day you came to the troll’s rescue, people didn’t see a weakling. They saw a strict yet fair king, who can show compassion to a creature whose doom wouldn’t have mattered any other way.” Draikon reminded, quite sad to see Seraos reduced to a stressed mess that was suspecting him and someone with decades of service like General Lyon as people that were simply waiting for the right moment to betray him.

At that moment, Draikon’s arm was starting to hurt from carrying the plant too long.
“Just think about what I said your majesty. I’ll be here if you need to say something else. If not, I shall leave now. But before I do, here, on the house, but just this once. I won’t bother you with any payment details. I shall work on the plant’s longevity after this, but for now, this one will be useful for a few days.” Draikon said as he handed the plant, ready to be escorted out if Seraos didn’t want to say anything else, though he suspected he still had a few things pressing his chest.

Lyon took the script, reading it. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. Lydia however, was a different story.
“Father?” she squealed after looking at the letter.
“Calm down Lydia. It’s probably just a casual meeting regarding the prisoner.” he said, wanting his daughter to calm down.
“But what if it’s not? What if they question you about the girl? It’s too much coincidence that this would arrive precisely today, and so late.” she said with much concern.
“Well, let them think whatever they want and interrogate me all they want too. All I did was show a bit of emotion for a child. Since when is that a crime?” Lyon said with much frustration, very upset about the whole situation.
“But what if king Seraos decides it is a crime? He’s changing father. He’s... changing too much.” Lydia said in absolute fear, proving that what Draikon was saying was right. He was starting to be feared.
“Just... come back home as soon as the meeting is done. I’ll make you a nice dinner. Just please come home!” she begged, giving him a humongous hug. How he wished Lyon didn’t have to involve himself with the Old Myth, but knew he was only doing what he believed was right.

Draikon's own response was at least somewhat in line with what Seraos was expecting - of course he wasn't suddenly going to admit to playing the game, and of course he would at least pretend his concern was genuine. "Ah... whether or not you admit to anything does not matter to me. Our cooperation has been mutually beneficial, and hopefully it will remain so. Now, we will soon have a meeting with the Council and many of my finest generals; you can work to find your answers, and I'll work to find mine."
Seraos remained seated as Draikon was led out. Soon replacing him in the throne room was General Skarp, and the Council and many other generals were on their way.

The messenger didn't seem to be quite as sentimental as Lydia as he looked on. "You MIGHT want to get a move-on, General," the messenger goaded. "Any longer and I start noting that you didn't take the message seriously."

Draikon shook his head disapprovingly, Seraos seemingly choosing to ignore his advice.
“See what I mean? Even right now, you think this is all just a battle of wits. Answer vs. answer. You want me to admit to something as if I have some hidden agenda. I will bring you the tonic when I can. For now, good luck with your meeting.” Draikon commented as he was escorted, glad to be out of there but wishing Seraos would at least try to follow his advice. Perhaps after the meeting, when he has some alone time, he will. He dreaded to think that everything that was happening for the past years was making the young monarch lose his way.

General Lyon didn’t take kindly to have the sacred moment interrupted.
“Alright! I’m going! Have some decency and let an older merman have some time with his precious daughter.” he scolded, hating when someone messed with his family moments. He tolerated enough crud as it was when at work. He didn’t need to tolerate it close to home too. Taking the note, he left, wishing Lydia good luck and telling her that he loved her. He just got back from Tal Rojas. It was too annoying finding out he had to go back yet again. If there was a meeting, why didn’t they tell him while he was there already? It was as if they wanted to make him do the double journey on purpose.

Quote: Spyroconvexity

“Now shall we listen to the story’s around here?” Icestorm said.

Maverick wasn’t fond of eavesdropping, but he wanted to keep bonding with Icestorm, so he accepted. It could be a great way to pass the time.

The messenger didn't appreciate such contempt for following the orders he was provided, for someone who had the authority to compel compliance from General Lyon. He noted down such contempt; it wasn't every day that someone of his rank got to mess around with a general, after all. The appropriate channels would get such information there long before Lyon arrived.

Meanwhile, in the throne room, Seraos, the members of the Council, and twelve other generals, including Skarp, had all arrived. Skarp had reported the information communicated through the priority channels - General Lyon was on his way, but did not treat the message with due urgency and seemingly blew off the messenger when urged.
"Yet another sign that he does not respect those with authority over him, clearly," Skarp concluded. "What an excellent way to start off his own defense. Any traitor, no matter their rank, will answer to us... and by extension, His Majesty."

General Lyon was a few minutes late, but knew nobody would care about his excuses, so he didn’t bother giving them. He took his seat like everybody else, ready for whatever scold or punishment came his way.

Meanwhile, Draikon was escorted to where the satyr girl was, after she was moved to a prison where she would be more easily studied. The room in question had a very small glass window where the guards could see the prisoner perfectly but was entirely black to the captive inside. It also had a ventilation system that made their voices more easy to listen to. Draikon saw the girl with fascination... and indignity. No matter the crime Seraos believed she committed, it was too awful that he chose to treat her as just one of his many vulgar criminals instead of a magnificent creature that was hidden from humanity until today. But there was no time to give priority to his feelings or opinions. He had a job to do. To make sure his observations wouldn’t be questioned, Draikon would ask the guards that had their turn to keep an eye on him, so he would have witnesses in case Seraos dared to question the truthfulness of his research.

General Skarp wasted no time. "Greetings, General," he offered with obviously feigned sincerity as Lyon was still finding his seat. "It's nice to know that you consider a messenger with an order from me showing you 'decency' as you hug your daughter is more important than treating a summons from me with the urgency it warrants. I suppose, however, that a traitor who doesn't respect the sovereignty of his own king wouldn't respect the authority of one of his subordinates."
Seraos waited for Skarp to finish. "General Lyon... I have only disappointment. I trusted you. You knowingly hid the truth from me. An island... secrets... hmm. I personally did not take well to that... but a decision on this level shouldn't be purely personal, should it? I figured a consensus would be reasonable, just to make sure I wasn't overreacting. Council, every other general, RISE."
The other generals rose as ordered.
"Before today, how many of you knew about this secret island with 'sacred people'?"
None of the others raised their hand.
"I figured as much... you may all be seated," Seraos commanded, and the others were seated.
"Now, General Lyon, I'm quite curious - why did you feel authorized to make your own decision about such a matter, to the exclusion of everyone else?" Seraos pressed. "Stand while you address us."

At first, General Lyon believed they were just bluffing in order to force such information out of him, but the information they had was too accurate to be made up. How low his king stood to send spies after his most loyal subjects? Lydia was right. He was changing... for the worst. He hated himself for letting the secret be exposed like that. If he hasn’t convinced Sergeant Farlo to try visiting Seraos and told him he was a good and most merciful king, none of this would’ve happened. He got up, finally ready to answer.
“It was not my secret to tell. I was sworn to secrecy by one of the islanders. He saved my life a couple of years ago. How could I possibly deny? What right did I have to break a promise to my savior? The island is not part of Aelinon, and it’s citizens are not a threat to us, so I had no reason to break my promise. Had the citizens been a threat to our society, I wouldn’t have wasted time in telling you all, but all they want is peace. The island is sacred. Even the Ishulgites were after it, but they managed to avoid detection. When they found out Aelinon managed to defeat these terrorists, they believed that at last, they could leave centuries of isolation behind and finally have peace among humanity. I was escorting my friend to you king Seraos, so that you could sign a peace treaty, so that they wouldn’t need to hide anymore... but we were attacked by mercenaries before it could happen. My friend and his people, they were afraid they would suffer the same fate as fauns if they revealed themselves. But they were ready to come out of hiding and finally give humanity a second chance... until that awful attack happened.” General Lyon explained calmly, not certain on what his fate would be, but wanted everyone to be aware that all he was guilty of was honoring a promise, to a friend who saved his life in a dire time of need.

King Seraos and the others listened attentively, though there was little change in their demeanor. Seraos immediately had a response when Lyon was done. "So General... what you're telling me is that, as a high-ranking member of Aelinon's military, oath-bound to the nation and its people, you deemed your loyalty to a foreigner and their... community, to supersede that of your oath. You decided to act in the interests of this foreign land for their benefit as opposed to allowing your monarch - and those who I consult with - to make such a decision. I could have sworn there was a certain term we had for that... generals, what say you about the matter? Starting with Skarp and moving clockwise from there."
Skarp immediately rose up. "Treason. Outward admittance of allegiance to foreigners to justify keeping secrets from his own king. We hang people for less that what this bastard's done."
Skarp sat down. Standing up next was General Cobalt, another merman. "Treason. If he hides this from us, what other things does he hide? If he lies to his king, how can we trust him not to lie to us? Who's to say he wouldn't sabotage a war effort because he sympathizes with the other side?" General Cobalt sat down, with the following rising and falling in order.
"Treason. Disgrace to his oath, and feels he can make decisions involving possible conflict on behalf of everyone."
"Treason. We should go through every project he's ever been involved with in the military and see if he's had other dealings with foreigners. Did we lose men because he sympathized with the enemy?"
"Treason. I've watched my loyal men die to honor their oath, and he thinks a foreign nation deserves his consideration more."
"Treason. His own words cannot be construed as anything less by any definitions we have."
"Treason. His unilateral subversion of his chain of command - our king, in this case - goes against everything a military stands for."
"Treason. At this point, best used as an example to show our soldiers that no rank is above honoring their oath to their nation."
"Treason. Should've at least had the good grace to resign once there was a conflict of interest instead of collecting a paycheck while lying to us all."
"Treason. How should anyone expect a military to stand when everyone just decides to make their own decisions because they don't trust their superiors?"
"Treason. In what world can one openly admit violating the trust of the king and all his fellow generals on behalf of a foreign entity and think that it sounds reasonable?"
"Treason. I almost want to see him try to explain to the people that he thinks he should overrule our king and every other general in making decisions on who we go to war with."
Seraos allowed for a brief pause for effect before continuing after the last general. "Your fellow generals don't seem to find your actions agreeable," he said plainly. "You probably knew that they wouldn't, however - which is why you told no one. And knowing your loyalty is to foreigners instead of our nation... why should I trust your judgment? Why should I even trust that you weren't just covering for a foreign asset sent by your buddies in a failed effort to try to kill me?" Seraos gazed harshly at Lyon, his face a mix of indignation and strong disappointment.

General Lyon remained with a neutral expression, having hoped that the king and his fellow generals could see the bigger picture. But at the same time, he was predicting something like this could happen.
“So... that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” he said once he got up.
“Honestly, I thought you were all better than this. I already said they were a peaceful society, yet some of you are already mentioning the word war. You’re all already considering them enemies even after I specified they don’t want conflict. I violated my oath, true... for the sake of honor. I chose honor before the oath this one time, but only because I was certain no harm would come to Aelinon. That’s not what they want, and they have proven it to me. Or are you implying that we should stab in the back those who save our lives? Should we break promises to good people that mean no harm? Should they remain in isolation and fear? Failing to see my reasons just proves why they hesitated so much in making the step. To think the reason why my friend was considering a peace treaty was because Itold him you were a just and gentle king. What happened to the Seraos I knew? The one who went out of his way to save a dreadful troll? Or the one who decided to spare others, including the Scourge of Redwater, and give them a chance to redeem themselves despite the dreadful crimes? Am I to assume that Seraos is gone forever? I am saddened by this turn of events, but if you want to consider me a traitor for my humble decision, then so be it.” Lyon said with much calmness as he exposed his neck, ready to be killed on the spot if that’s what they wanted. He also extended his hands just in case he was handcuffed instead.

General Lyon has reached a point where he didn’t care about his fate anymore. He had so much faith in Seraos, but he was destroying it in one swift swoop. He was now a traitor to his nation, and an indirect traitor to his friend and the Old Myth. It pained him so much to think that his beloved Lydia would be all alone in the world, with only the warriors by her side, and that was assuming she is considered for the position after this. But he trained her for this possibility. He trained her to be ready to be without a father. It was still going to be painful, but he alone could not face an entire nation. If death was considered, he was ready for Orion to receive him with open arms.

Seraos seemed less than impressed, as if he were expecting Lyon's response. "So, General... did you really think it would be that easy? Just throw your life away, some martyr? You speak to me, yet my own words mean nothing to you. But as you well know by now - when you have so clearly violated the law, I don't need to do anything. I have people whose job it is to handle people like you, in a way that you might understand better. You may have blown off the summons from General Skarp... but his authority in other matters might not be as easily ignored."
Seraos nodded to Skarp, who stood up and grinned eagerly. "Well, 'General', fortunately for us, we don't need you. We can just throw you in a cell until we finally care enough to drag you to court when it's convenient. Trying to get anything from you right now would be a waste of time, however, and killing you right now would be too easy - you should at least stick around long enough to see us root out what you've tried to hide.
"Me? I know where my loyalties lie - and I have every authority to do whatever it takes to protect the monarch and the throne you care nothing about. This includes finding what it is you're hiding from us... and tell me, General, were you not talking to others? Like the ones you sent off somewhere? Or... your daughter?
"She's expecting you back. She's preparing a dinner for you. She'll probably get a bit of a different answer than what she was expecting, though. And General... she's an adult. I don't even have to use the exemptions granted by my position to have her treated any way I see fit. You're staunchly loyal to foreigners instead of your own monarch - we'll see if she shares your same level of devotion to them, however."
Seraos nodded towards the Royal Guard, and they moved in to apprehend Lyon.

Mentioning his daughter was finally enough to get a reaction out of Lyon.
“Don’t you DARE drag my daughter into this!” he threatened, even though he manage to resist the urge to give him a punch.
“Only a coward would target the family members of their targets! That is so unbecoming of you General Skarp! And you...” he said, addressing to Seraos this time.
“You now know the existence of this island. What now, hmm? Are you willing to destroy the peace of people that haven’t bothered yours for centuries? They think humans are evil. Are you willing to prove them right? The peaceful and knowledgeable fauns are extinct because of humans. Are you willing to threaten the existence of other similar races too? Will their extinction or destruction of their way of life finally make you happy? What will you do with this knowledge?” Lyon asked, almost as if challenging king Seraos’ own morale, if it still existed. Lydia was right. He has become too different. Too merciless. Anyone else would have least try to understand why he broke his oath and did what he did, but nobody in that room were willing to do so. Seraos was changing for the worst. Lyon was once blindly loyal to him as well, but know, his loyalty might as well be extinct too.

At the satyr girl’s cell, Draikon was studying the prisoner with extreme dedication. He was barely blinking. He made notes of her every move, typing the time and action. The girl would sometimes search one of her pockets, but he didn’t think she was aware that she was doing it. Something must’ve been in that pocket that it was making her reach out for it. Her Pam flute was located in a different pocket, so that couldn’t be it. Draikon knew from General Lyon that she had amnesia, which made him sympathize more with her plea since he too suffered from it, although the king was adamantly believing it was fake. The scientist didn’t care if it was fake or not. He was just glad for this opportunity, even if he found it disgusting the way she was being treated.

"So... that's what this is about?" Seraos questioned. "You're... also a racist as well? I'm rather surprised. I'll tell you what - if it turns out that you and these people made an effort to kill me so you could get me, a human, out of the way because you automatically assumed humans are evil... then I'll be glad to wipe these bigots off the face of the planet so they can stop dragging society backwards with their ideas. I guess it depends on what we can find out about them, isn't that right?"
Skarp, meanwhile, found Lyon's protests laughable at best. "You probably should have thought about that before dragging your own daughter into your treason," he said indifferently. "You told her plenty - what else did you tell her? That humans are evil and are the barrier between a peaceful world? Seriously unable to accept your king because he's a different species than you are? Doesn't matter - we'll get the answers from her soon enough." As Skarp spoke, the Royal Guard finally closed in around Lyon to apprehend him.

Meanwhile, the Silent Spear were already acting on the instructions of General Skarp - a few mermen (who were part of the Silent Spear, by nature of galuds not typically being suited for aquatic life) gathered by the house of the (now former) general.
"So, just go in there?" one asked.
"No, Skarp has some fun ideas... she'll come out. If she's not stupid... or a really heavy sleeper."
The squad of mermen began focusing on a certain spell. As the temperature slowly began to rise in the home, some bubbles could be seen forming, and the pressure inside built up.

Lyon shook his head, finding it sad how misled Seraos was.
“Lydia has nothing to do with this! Don’t you dare involve her!” Lyon said before addressing to the king.
“Bigots? Is that what you think they are? Sire, this has nothing to do about racism or bigotry! They are none of those things! They are just a very scared society who wanted a chance to return to Galadar. Is it wrong to be fearful of a race that caused the extinction of a peaceful one? Ever since they saved my life, I wanted to show them that not all humans are bad. They were fearful because they believed history would repeat itself, but despite everything, they didn’t think of murder, not even once! It’s not in their nature! I wanted to prove to them they could integrate into society once more! All they want is peace! I would’ve been able to show you if it wasn’t for that stupid mercenary attack!” Lyon assured, wondering if there was a way to prove the Old Myth meant them no harm, and that his belief that they were assassins was horribly wrong. As he talked, he prayed that Lydia would leave that place at once. After so many years in the force, how could he be so naive and believe she wouldn’t be targeted? If only Seraos could see things the way he did...

Lydia was returning from gathering algae to place on the table. She was contemplating them when she returned home.
“Can I help you gentle... men?” she asked after noticing their uniforms. Where has she seen that before? Wait... no. NO! It couldn’t be!”

A couple of members of the Royal guard were patrolling the place where the satyr girl was apprehended. A bit beyond that point, there was a small forest where it was suspected the girl hid while she was a fugitive. Caught in a branch, there was a large piece of cloth, which one of them took.
“What the... hey Bryan, look at this!” he called, showing that in the piece of cloth, there were letters. This... was a letter, that wasn’t made on the traditional paper.

PEACE TREATY

To the esteemed ruler of Galadar
We’ve heard about how you stopped those dreadful Ishulgites at last
Our sacred society was in danger, but thanks to you, it’s not the case anymore
on behalf of the Old Myth, we request permission to return to the continent,
Together, we can bring both of our societies to age of peace and prosperity.
We’ll be willing to share our magic and knowledge, so that we may show our gratitude.
We don’t want to live in isolation anymore. We ask the most humble of kings to permit us
to return to our original way of life and bring both humans and Old Myth together in an era
where we don’t need to live in fear anymore. Once again, thank you.

Below the cloth, there was a signature. Someone that they didn’t know. The name being Sergeant Farlo. Below it, another line, except this one was blanc. Just what this was all about? One thing was certain. King Seraos needed to see this. Did this belonged to the satyr girl? It had to be. Seemed highly unlikely it could belong to anyone else.

Seraos, as he was before, seemed indifferent. "I don't care for any more of your nonsense, traitor. Your words are worth little now. Unlike you, I make sure that my words keep their worth - when I give a threat or a warning, I mean it. I need to do neither for you now, however; General Skarp, who you didn't even care to respect, can figure out how to deal with you." With a wave, Seraos ordered his guards to take Lyon to the palace prison for now. It was getting pretty late; but these were important matters to deal with, and he hadn't even gotten to the typical discussion with the Council yet...

Some of the mermen, upon seeing Lydia, almost looked disappointed; all the effort so far put into boiling the home to the point of eventually exploding, and Lydia wasn't even inside to rush out, but on the outside returning. The home of a traitor still had to be made an example of, and everyone would know what happened.
Those mermen already committed to the process stayed on track; however, even more came from various different directions, some with spears pointed at Lydia while others manipulated water pressure in order to create "bonds" from the water.
"By order of General Skarp, you are under arrest for sedition and being a willful accessory to treason," the most high-ranking merman said as he approached her. "Come along, now... the traitorous jellyfish-brained thing you called a father is waiting for you."

Lyon shook his head, showing no resistance as he was escorted away.
“I‘ll that you’ll make the right decision my king. I’ll pray that the cold heart you bear knows only and the hate to begone.” Was all that the former general said, finding it horrible the path of darkness his beloved monarch was taking. For him, all of those that weren’t Aelinon were just criminals out to assassinate him, or at least that was the impression he has given. The island was out of his hands now, and could only hope that the Old Myth manages to escape the king’s invasion if it ever comes to that. They have spend centuries running from human oppression, and it pained him to think they will need to continue doing so. His only objective now, was to get his beloved daughter exonerated from all the charges General Skarp want to put on her.

Lydia has been thinking the worst as soon as her father left, and indeed, the worst has happened. It was too much to hope for king Seraos to have heart to understand what he has done.
“Arrest? Where is my father? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?” she demanded to know, showing no resistance to the arrest. Wherever her father was, they would take her, but she nevertheless tried to get an answer right away.

The meeting was almost over. The couple of guards were waiting outside the meeting to deliver to king Seraos what they just have found. No doubt it would become evidence for the trial, but found it appropriate to have the king examine it first before it’s delivered to the court.

The mermen answered none of Lydia's questions as they dragged her to the surface, where she was transferred to a galud with a wyvern - a breed made for speed and stealth rather than endurance. Securely tying her down at the waist like cargo, the rider mounted and directed the wyvern off in flight at a breakneck pace. Lydia was not offered anything to provide protection from frostbite or hypothermia at the height and speed they would be moving at, though the flight would ideally be shorter than usual. It was already very late at night, and most involved in the initial meeting would likely be sleeping by the time Lydia arrived.

Lyon, meanwhile, was led to one of the deeper chambers of the dungeons underneath Tal Rogas Castle, before being stuffed in one of the cells. Usually, someone like him would be taken to a military prison, but there was at least a temporary exception being made right now, likely due to Lydia's involvement.

As Lydia was escorted harshly to the city, Lyon sat in a corner of his cell, biting his nails. For someone with much experience in the military, he made some very bad decisions, especially with Lydia. She never liked the fact that he kept such a major secret, and many times begged him to tell the king, but he didn’t want to say anything to Seraos until Sergeant Farlo was ok with it. To think everything would’ve been alright if only the centaur had a chance to visit the king and show his intentions for peace, but after that dreadful attack, things went downhill fast. There was nothing he could do for the Old Myth now. His top priority now was to get Lydia free and deal with whatever awaited him. That mercenary attack... ruined everything.

Once the meeting was over and everyone was getting ready to head their way, the two guards that found the note approached Seraos.
“Your majesty...” they both said with a bow.
“We found this at the edge of the forest near where the satyr girl was apprehended. We have strong reasons to believe it belongs to her.” Bryan said, handing the cloth note. It was clearly a peace treaty that was already signed, but was it real? And why a piece of cloth instead of the traditional paper? Very odd for sure.

Seraos took the document, giving it a careful read. The handwriting was a bit unusual, but he could still make it out without issue, and read the letter over once before deciding to read the letter aloud to the Council (the guards, already having read the unsecured message, were not dismissed.)
"Ruler of Galadar? Do these people think we've conquered the whole continent?" Seraos noted, as he mulled over the document. "Old Myth? Might... thid have something to do with Lyon's business? Exchange of knowledge... Sergeant Farlo? So a military is involved, and the messenger is likely a subordinate of some more powerful figure..."
Seraos looked back up as he finished reading the letter. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention," he said earnestly to the guards before looking up to the Council. "Of course, we don't have enough information to do anything at the moment... with any luck, General Skarp will be able to find the answers we seek."

Upon landing, Lydia was loosed from the wyvern by the jailers as she was escorted in (presumably) terrestrial form. Having been brought in by the Silent Spear, there were no checkpoints to pass. She was brought into the castle, through the very same paths her father was led through, before being brought to the deeper dungeon and brusquely stuffed into a cell opposite her father.
With the prisoners in place, the guards briefly talked amongst themselves about what was to follow.
"General Skarp called for the Masseur, to start, right?"
"Yeah, he should be here and waiting. Just need to summon him."
"Okay. Did the General also call for the pig?"
"Why would he? He's too high to have to bother with small details about supplies."
"Yeah... we know the Masseur will want one for his demonstration, though."
"Eh, any animal will do, honestly..."
"Do you really want to piss him off by not bringing him his favorite, though? Don't worry - I'll bring it. Someone up the chain will have figured it out. I should be back before he gets here, or maybe a little afterward at most - just put in the word and get the equipment. Oh, and you two! Prisoners! Take off all but the bare minimum needed to avoid being naked. The Masseur needs to see his work, and you are nothing more than animals as far as he's concerned."
The guards left, leaving the two merfolk in opposing cells in a deep dungeon where no one outside would hear them...

Lyon saw from his spot as Lydia was brought. He couldn’t help but fall into his knees.
“Lydia! I am so sorry! I should’ve known better! Some father and General I was, dragging you into this! I really believed they wouldn’t involve you, but I was a fool. This senile old koot forgot so many obvious things!” Lyon apologized, realizing too late the horrible decisions he made. Was old age finally getting to him?
“Things that should’ve been common sense for someone like me...” he then said, feeling horribly guilty.
“Father! It’s alright! I... I don’t mind being here with you. I... trust everything will be fine.” Lydia said, wanting to have the optimism she learned from someone from her past, many years ago.
“You warned me Lydia, and I didn’t listen! I really thought this could work... but after that damn attack... I HATE those mercenaries!” he blurted out, blaming all the disaster on them.
“Father, why didn’t you say anything sooner? I know your honor is important... but...” Lydia started to say, but he interrupted.
“My honor never interfered with my oath and military duties before, but this time, it did. I was ready for this, but I never intended to drag you into this dear daughter. Please forgive this old fool.” he apologized once more. Lydia knew his intentions were noble, but were done in a very wrong way.

“It wasn’t just to keep a promise.” Lyon suddenly said after a brief pause.
“Those people... if only you have seen where they live Lydia. It was... such a beautiful place. There is no conflict. No diseases. Everybody is friends with everybody. There was absolute peace. All my life I have known nothing but the strict military code of Aelinon, but this life, this simple, calm life... I loved it. It changed my perspective. I... I should’ve taken you there. We could’ve moved away. They would’ve welcomed us... but I loved Seraos too much to abandon him.” Lyon explained, wondering if it was such mistake to stay and believed Seraos would be a bit comprehensible. There was so much hate in him. In a fraction of a second, he became a stranger to the young monarch. His explanation, his loyalty, his decades of service, they suddenly meant nothing. Lyon didn’t want to be off the hook so easily because of any of those things, but he did hope for a little more understanding, even if the punishment was inevitable. After the Ishulgite war and plenty of assasination attempts, Seraos has become so ruthless, someone willing to exterminate entire races if he believed they possessed even an ounce of threat. He was always strict, but I he seemed to be getting worst. His only hope now was to help his beloved Lydia and pray for a fair trial for the both of them, or at least just her.

Draikon continued studying the satyr girl, who was starting to fall asleep after a brief sobbing session. The guard keeping an eye on both of them explained about her amnesia story, and he pretended it was his first time hearing it. Observing someone all night doing fairly normal things for a prisoner seemed like a boring job, but Draikon seemed to enjoy it. He wasn’t showing any signs of tiredness, at least not right now. Even an insignificant action during her sleep could provide clues as to who she was and how genuine her amnesia story was.
“Tell me, have any of you tried to give her something that might trigger her memory? Assuming she is indeed suffering memory loss?” Draikon asked without removing his line of sight away from her, but the guard wasn’t aware of the events, so he asked someone nearby that knew.
“The only thing confiscated from her was a Pam flute. She played it well, just like before, but it didn’t make her ‘remember’ the reason she’s here.” the guard explained, with Draikon taking notes in a different piece of paper. That was a disappointment. Seeing something belonging to them was usually successful in restoring a patient’s memory. Was the girl indeed faking her amnesia? Draikon was determined to remain there all night and find out...

There was eerie silence in the dungeon when the two merfolk weren't talking. The silence was interrupted by the sound of a pig's protests and the footsteps of two galuds.
The two arrived, one carrying a crate with another carrying several metal prongs - which resembled some on the floors and ceilings of the cells. As one put the prongs into the ground, the footsteps of a third galud could be heard.
The uniform of the third galud was somewhat disheveled, but indicated his rank of lieutenant colonel - which the two guards, staff sergeants, promptly saluted and greeted.
"Good morning, men," he answered in kind. "Oh - the pig! I can hear it... you've gone and gotten it for me without me having to dig around for it! You have actually considered my work! I am grateful."
"We appreciate your praise, sir," one of the guards responded. The officer - who one could reasonably assume was this Masseur - took a look at the prisoners. What he saw immediately ruined his good mood.
"Tell me, men, why aren't my subjects STRIPPED?" the Masseur demanded.
"We ordered them to strip, sir," one of the guards responded.
"'Ordered'? They clearly didn't comply. So why didn't YOU STRIP THEM???" The guards cowered as the major became seemingly apoplectic about a matter that could reasonably be taken care of in seconds as required. "Well, uh, sir, we, uh... we don't usually have a, um, female pri-"
"WHAT is she here for?" the Masseur asked before the guard could finish.
"Initial charges are sedition and willful accessory to treason, sir..." one of the guards answered.
"EXACTLY! Disloyalty to her very own nation, its very foundation! Tell me - do you know what separates the civilized from the uncivilized? It is the ability to cooperate! Do you think we defeated dragons by plotting against our own societies? No! We cooperated! And so, we thrive, while those who cannot stand together cannot stand against us! We galuds know this very well - but do not be ignorant. Humans! Mermen! Their species also thrived because they could cooperate!"
The Masseur took a quick but deep breath before continuing. "One who can freely betray their own society as a whole is little more civilized than the brutish dragons who thrive by demanding tribute while giving nothing in return! As far as we are concerned, they are ANIMALS! THEY DESERVE NO DIGNITY! MY WORK! I MUST BE ABLE TO VIEW IT AND MOVE FREELY AS I PROCEED! I-" The Masseur suddenly stopped himself before taking a deep breath.
"All is well... a simple mistake that you will not make again. Your foresight and diligence in bringing my materials are appreciated and will be noted. I am very pleased. Please return to your posts."
"Thank you, sir!" one of the guards said as they left per their dismissal. Grabbing part of the crate, the Masseur opened one side, while putting a hand down on the pig and casting a spell. The pig seemingly rushed to get away - but energy bonds of light of some sort seemed to project from the prongs to the pig, and it completely stopped when it reached the edge as if the bonds were the perfect length to keep it in the square created by the prongs.
"Greetings, vermin," the Masseur said disdainfully to the prisoners. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Mason, known informally as the Masseur. Clearly, you think highly enough of yourselves to believe you should still be afforded the dignity of the civilized... Or perhaps not? Maybe you see yourselves as cornered rats, lashing out in any way they can in desperation? Today, we will be working to help you come to terms with the reality of the station that suits you. The civilized species - we've developed because we were capable of compromising, putting aside the desires of the one for the good of the many. We became more peaceful amongst each other - but as irony would dictate, the same cooperation that brings about peace makes us better at war.
"And so we fought more and more - because we grew to value our society so much, that many were willing to die to preserve or propagate even if being uninvolved was objectively better on a personal level. And as irony would have it... those who fight for their civilization, in the ultimate display of the idea of the group before the self, often die like animals. Turned into a rank and a weapon, impaled, shot, crushed, cut open. Left to exsanguinate in their dying moments of agony -lbecause they could not be saved in the heat of battle without even more suffering the same fate - and that's provided they weren't mistaken for dead, and left for days to starve and dehydrate before sepsis or delirium finally take them.
"They die like animals, despite exemplifying the idea of civilization. As a doctor, I worked to help those who we were not forced to abandon on the battlefield... and I did save many. Many, however, I could offer nothing but palliative care to. Magic can help one heal, but there are many limits - it is a tool, like a bandage or salve, but there are many who do not understand that it is not a panacea that can make wounds disappear with the wave of a hand. Those who are mortally wounded... are usually beyond saving.
"That does not, however, mean that magic is useless to those people. Ah... THE BRAIN! Ah - it is a wonderful thing. It provides the intelligence and reasoning that makes us civilized! I take it you know the reason we feel pain? Not because we are being harmed - but because our brain detects what is happening to our body, and it tells us that we are being harmed. That is why lepers may not feel pain even as their bodies fall apart!
"Those who didn't deserve to suffer like the cattle they were reduced to on the battlefield - for them! Yes, the magic - the sensation magic! Useful for many, of course, it is not limited to them - but it was especially for their sake, that I added it to my 'toolbox'! Those who gave the self for the group - they at least deserved to feel pleasure in their final moments, if there was nothing else to be done for them! Does that not seem right?" The Masseur seemed to be slightly out of focus as he spoke, recalling the experience.

"But ONE DAY! A man was brought to me! A sentry - a human. Surprise attacked BY A FELLOW SENTRY! He was discovered at the shift change - long after he had suffered his wounds. I tried to save him... but it was too late. The most I could do was replace the pain with soothing pleasure as he was left to his fate like a wounded invalid among fleeing ruminants." The Masseur looked seemed to recall the moment with a subdued, regretful expression in contrast to his seemingly excitable nature taking a short break before resuming as he tried to regain composure.
"But! As luck would have it! The traitor? Slipped as he attempted to climb a ledge in his efforts to desert and give our plans to the enemy. Badly wounded. Fell into a river. Washed ashore. Captured by mermen... and brought to me.
"This man! Serving in the military, in what should be the pinnacle of the self before the group! He betrays the group... for the SELF! Not our ideals - his ideals! Someone serving the many - cut down because the one had different beliefs! Disputed territory - near forests. Silvianesti! Traitor knew an elf. A female - he said she helped him when he was lost in a forest one day! 'Knew' elves were good people! Figured we were monsters for aggression when we moved more troops to the base! Maybe he was looking to elope with the woman after his treachery? Maybe pheromones fogging the brain?
"So! This man! This vermin! He decided his own morality trumped the group! DEMONIZED the group! Killed his own! Incompatible with society! I had to heal vermin! And of course I did what I could - this man, he had survive to be made an example of! And, as I did my work, I tried to soothe him. BUT! When I tried - all I could do at that moment was focus on my own anger! My disdain for this vermin! That manifested - and he felt pain, without additional wounds!
"I gagged the man so I could focus, and tried again absentmindedly - and the same thing happened! Like I was some untrained magic user with no control beyond immediate emotion! Of course I kept trying... but soon something drove me to keep 'trying'. All I could think of - this vermin!"
As the Masseur spoke, his clenched fists cracked with light surges of electricity as his visage reflected his fury at the thought of the man. "I worked to heal him, and yet I brought him so much misery... more than I could possibly inflict without killing him, and yet he was in better shape than when I first saw him. I... Enjoyed it? No, not that, it wasn't a game - but satisfaction. That! It satisfied me. Someone who would betray his own comrade and leave him to die like an animal? HE should be the one suffering!
"BUT! I violated ethics! Society trusted me to make people feel better - and yet I deliberate did the opposite. This could not stand! I betrayed the trust society had in my role, when I decided that my own feelings on how this vermin should be treated trumped the decision of those who are trusted to make those decisions! Live with myself - I couldn't! So I turned myself in!
"Having turned myself in for something that probably wouldn't have been discovered, they trusted me to show up for trial! No jail - just put on leave! And the trial should have been swift - but the case 'conveniently' disappeared when files blew away into the water from wind, in a place mostly shielded from wind. There was no love for the man. Punishing me - it would have looked bad! I, the individual, deserved punishment - but the needs of the group outweighed the justice the individual deserved. I was appalled - insomnia. Sleepless days! Many sleepless days! But I had to accept - this was better for society! I was doing my part for civilization. That is what I had to accept... I could try to turn myself in again, but that would just be recalcitrance against my nation for the sake of satisfying my own personal guilt..."
The Masseur lowered his head briefly as he thought, before talking again. "That made me think, though - if they could do this for me for the greater good, how many did we have in power who could betray their fellow troops - or their society - and get away with it? All while hiding like vermin? Every man I had die in my care because of bad decisions - some of them were inexcusable! How many of those people threw away their men to seek their own personal glory? How many deviated from the strategy of a higher-ranking officer because they thought their own was better? And the thought ANGERED me.
"I wanted to hurt them. But I knew I couldn't. I needed the satisfaction, though. So what did I do? I had to find an animal - not literal vermin, not satisfying enough. Not a companion animal - that would feel wrong! The first live animal I found at the market that fit? A pig. I bought that pig, I brought it home, and I toyed with it - baited with pleasure, before filling its brain with pure pain as it squealed in its helplessness. It would make good bacon later - for that moment, though, it was how I coped with the idea..." The Masseur made a brief pause as he recalled that incident in his mind.

"Before I returned from leave, I was approached - the Silent Spear! They learned about what happened, and decided I could be a fit - and could give me plenty of the people who 'deserved' my 'treatment.' And here, we have the perfect subjects! You! "General." How many times have men died like cattle in the slaughterhouse following your orders? Orders which put the will of their nation over their own desire to live - and yet, the very same man giving these orders, making his men die for them, decides that he owes his loyalty more to foreigners than what he had them die for? Is that flounder you call a daughter someone you infected with your own idea about how evil humans are, or did she get the idea that 'the king is changing' herself, when he decided not to resume the invasion of Silvianesti when he had the opportunity?
"YOU TWO! Traitors to your own nation! Everything that civilization stands for! Lying to our leader. OUR leader! Sowing doubts about him - because you believe humans are too violent to be trusted. Let me ask you, 'General', do you know why the Silent Spear has no issues serving a human while being composed mostly of galuds? Because that doesn't matter to us. People like you see a human monarch being served by galud agents, while we see agents serving the leader of our nation, with those agents happening to be mostly of a race best adapted to the tasks the job entails, and the monarch just happening to be human. And when I was a doctor? I used race to identify what sort of treatment was needed, and who was vulnerable to what disease - I didn't use it as a tool to direct triage for those I thought were more 'reasonable'."
The Masseur suddenly and aggressively pointed at Lyon. "You, traitorous disgrace, are everything we are not - and you've managed to stay hidden in your rat tunnel so far. I was wracked with guilt for inflicting suffering on a worthless man who was to be executed, even as I served my other duties. You know why that is? Because I was a doctor - and with my role, society trusted me to do certain things. Society expects to do no harm - but I willfully inflicted suffering on someone at my mercy. I understood that I violated that trust, and expected society to punish me - ethics would have dictated such a thing happen, but ethics are a social construct, and so society may prioritize something else.
"And that is me. Do you know what society expects of someone who has the rank of General? They expect someone who will serve the nation's highest military interests. They expect someone who guides and informs the one who leads them - not someone who misleads their king in order to make decisions on his behalf. They expect someone who can be trusted with the nation's secrets - not someone who is trusted to keep foreign secrets from their nation. They expect someone who shares their values - not a racist who doesn't trust the leader they trust because he believes humans are inherently cruel and violent.
"Do you know what soldiers expect from the rank of General? They expect someone who leads by example - your 'example' shows that you believe it's acceptable to lie to your nation when it is inline with your personal beliefs. They expect someone who works hard to ensure the best possible strategy overall - you keep secrets from other generals, and when there is disorganization between commanders, it is the boots on the ground that suffer in the chaos of battle. They expect someone who honors the same oath that they do - you may see the Silent Spear giving orders to others in line with its specific duties, like the summons from General Skarp you disregarded, but you will not see regular military fall under the command of Silent Spear, because the oaths are slightly different, in a way that can theoretically bring about conflicting loyalty but has yet to do so meaningfully in Aelinon's history with no coup ever being attempted at the general ranks. You do not follow the same oath that they do - your own nation is not your greatest loyalty.
"Such EGREGIOUS violations of the trust of society, not just in general but in a position which literally answers to their ruler. So EGREGIOUS, and yet you were able to calmly put on a facade for the king about your 'deductions' based on what we figured out, when you knew the truth. Calmly leave, immediately ride to Redwater in a hurry, and send a message to foreign co-conspirators, while you order your daughter to cover you, and she willingly does - or at least she tried to. The Silent Spear has a way of exposing treasonous vermin.
"No hesitation. Nothing. Calmly discussing with your daughter that what you have done isn't a crime - despite there being no possible way you didn't know it was a crime! You! A former General! Speaking as if the king - OUR king - is the unreasonable one for addressing how you've betrayed his trust in you! OUR trust! OUR! OUR! OUR! US! YOU! BETRAYED! US! We trusted you, and YOU BETRAYED US! Men died on your orders - You betrayed THEM! I had to watch men pay the ultimate price for the nation with little I could do for them, and you DESECRATE THEIR SACRIFICE!"
The electricity crackled more loudly, though it did not appear to be at any harmful level. "You put your own desires over your allegiance to your nation! You pull the rug when it is expected most - after an attack on the closest people to OUR king! You are VERMIN! You had the nerve to wear the same uniform as men who die for our nation - and even now, you choose to cling to it! You are not fit for society. You are incompatible with the rest of us CIVILIZED beings who know what that entails. You are an ANIMAL! So... you will be treated like an animal. Allow me to demonstrate..."
The Masseur lifted up the squealing pig, which seemed to offer little visible resistance despite its very obvious struggle. The bonds seemed to be doing a good job of actively compensating for its motion and making it as stable as any solid object that wasn't struggling.

The Masseur seemed to change to a more formal tone - at least for parts of his speech - as if he were explaining something for a classroom. "This pig, like most animals, can feel pleasure and pain, and there are nuances to those two feelings. Pain, being a universally understood aversive stimulus, can thus be used to help encourage or discourage certain behavior if applied consistently. Yes, I mention behavior and reinforcement - as satisfying as it would be to do this all day, we have a purpose here, which is to get information. I can only hope this lesson takes you awhile to learn, whether it be because you're pigheaded, proud, or stupid. You've already conducted your first act of disobedience, so we'll start off with some positive punishment - after my explanation.
"I will ask a question. If I do not get an answer, or if your answer is worthless, or if I don't believe your answer, then I will apply positive punishment." The Masseur took two fingers and moved them in almost a clawing motion across the pig. Despite his nails being cut, and no visible wound, the pig squealed desperately and thrashed about even harder, before settling down - relatively. "Now, if you struggle to learn - which you have already shown - then I will make the pain more permanent," he said, as he repeated the same motion - except this time, the pig did not stop squealing or thrashing, but continued in an indication that the purported pain was not going away.
"If I get an answer that is to our satisfaction... then I will withdraw the aversive stimulus in an act of negative reinforcement. If I am so inclined, I may even choose to provide positive reinforcement," he said, as he ran his fingers over the area he previously touched. The pig ceased its loud struggle - and almost seemed euphoric. It laid down in satisfaction as if it weren't just fighting for its life and trying to get away from him a moment ago.
"The best part about this - it doesn't matter if you know how this works. It doesn't matter if you can identify that there is no damage being done to your body - I will tell your mind what I am doing do your body, and your mind will agree. If I say you are being clawed, then you will feel my claws slowly dragging across you. If I say you are being flayed, then you will feel my knife peeling away your skin, one layer at a time. Oh, and one important rule - you do not talk unless you are currently my focus, or I specifically ask. You will not interrupt MY WORK! If you do that, then I will apply positive punishment to the other animal." The Masseur placed a palm on the pig - and it came to attention and started squealing, with him not letting go.
"Though there has been no one to date who has shown to be immune to feeling my positive punishment, some exceptional animals can remain exceptionally stubborn... as long as they remind themselves that they're not hurting for real. Of course, if I ever feel that my methods aren't working... I may choose to provide justification for that pain." The Masseur started making a grip with the palm he had on top of the pig, and pulled away - and much of the outer layer of skin came off with it. "This concludes the initial presentation. Let's see what you've learned."
The pig, hopelessly squealing and struggling; had served its purpose; the Masseur grabbed a knife in his belt, swiftly thrusting through its head and ending its struggle before setting the corpse down.
"You first, flounder," the Masseur said to Lydia disdainfully. "Having already chosen to interfere with MY WORK, I will ensure your pain does not go away..." He briefly pondered on what his first punitive act would simulate, and would ask the key questions afterward.

Lyon remained composed, absorbing everything the Masseur said like a sponge. The only times he almost faltered was when his daughter was being insulted. Although he has trained Lydia to fulfill his former duties once he had retired, she was still technically a civilian, with no military rank whatsoever. Once he was done with his story and explanation and concluded the mind pain on the poor animal, Lyon finally reacted when he saw the galud meant to torture his daughter first. She cowered at the prospect of what awaited her.
“DOCTOR!” he yelled in a booming voice, in order to make the Masseur stop, even if it was just a moment.
“That was your occupation, wasn’t it? And why would any true doctor choose that profession in the first place? To help others. I betrayed my oath, but I NEVER betrayed my people. You can’t have one without the other, you say? That’s where you’re wrong. In hindsight, my betrayal may look the same as the sentry, but in order to understand my reasons, one must try to understand what possessed me to take such a decision in the first place even though I knew the consequences of my actions had I been discovered. Unlike the sentry, I had no selfish reasons behind my actions. Even though I kept a great secret, I was still thinking about Aelinon. My king. My people! If I had discovered they meant harm, I wouldn’t have think twice about breaking my promise and expose them, but they showed me many times all they wanted was peace. Despite believing humans, or at least most of them, are evil, they would rather hide and run than try to take revenge or declare war. I intended to destroy that evil notion and show them that most were good, and that they could live among people again without the fear about being exterminated like what happened to poor fauns. My savior... he was ready to go meet king Seraos and give humanity a chance... until that awful, unprovoked mercenary attack happened, and made him leave, unable to try and meet the king again in fear that he would be attacked again. My mistake was not trusting the king enough with such delicate information, but they wanted to show themselves first rather than have someone telling on them.” Lyon explained calmly, hoping he made enough sense to make the Masseus reconsider his plan.

Lydia watched her father with much horror, but he ignored her. He didn’t want to show any kind of fatherly love to her and risk her torture being worst in order to get him to give answers they wanted.
“You know about fauns, don’t you Lieutenant Colonel? A peaceful race, ready to welcome with open arms the people that arrived to their home, until the greed of a few lead them to extinction? The actions of a few, doomed their kind. These few chose to take everything they were already offering by force instead of working together. The actions of these few, ruined the way the rest of humanity is seen. Can you blame this society for being so afraid? They didn’t believe it was worth the effort to come out of hiding and suffer the same fate... until recently. They were ready to share what they have. What they know. Just imagine if fauns still existed and had shared their knowledge with us. They were master alchemists. Just imagine Lieutenant Colonel, elixirs that could cure diseases whose cures haven’t been discovered yet. Or transforming common metals into gold? People wouldn’t have needed to risk their lives in mines, endangering themselves, have breathing problems. Wouldn’t you have wanted that? Wouldn’t you have preferred that unity? That knowledge? Wouldn’t you have tried to form that alliance even if it meant bending the rules a little in the beginning in order to make it possible?” Lyon concluded, knowing that the chances that the Masseur could change his mind about torturing them were too low even with his words, but like the high rank galud said, the mind was a very powerful thing. If his words could make the him eventually ponder about the missed opportunity and his intentions, then perhaps he could become a mild supporter later on.

The Masseur looked greatly annoyed by the time Lyon was finished speaking, as he directed his attention to the interloper. "You interrupted my work... to tell me this? Oh, you certainly have yet to learn your new place... as nice as those things you mention are, do you know why I would not do what you did? Because it is not my right to decide on such a matter when my betters are the ones trusted to make that decision! I understand my personal desires should not overrule the trust society places in me! I know my place, cur... and I will teach you yours."
The Masseur turned away from Lyon, once again focusing his attention on Lydia. "Now then, flounder, do you remember my instructions? About interruptions, and the penalty? It seems your father has forgotten. Disobeyed twice already... there must be appropriate punishment. That's right - we were supposed to look into potential sedition as well. What was that you said? About the king changing? We'll find out how deep that goes... for now, perhaps our claws in your throat will remind you to be careful with it."
With a visible burst of magic from his hand, the Masseur opened Lydia's cell door as the prongs in her cell created bonds that provided selective restriction of motion much like what the pig was subjected to. Immediately following, he lunged towards her, grasping her neck. The grip itself was light; however, his magic would send the sensation of claws violently ripping at her throat from within.

That particular section of the dungeon had noise suppression measures on the perimeter, to suppress the horrors within; however, the inside itself allowed sound to reverberate freely. If one could discern them over the other noises, the rapid footfalls of a running soldier could be heard approaching.

Lyon could only mouth be strong as Lydia started to be tortured. In his decades of work, he never cared about the pain of prisoners and never realized how harsh the punishment actually was until it started to affect him on a personal level. He was the one with the biggest offense, yet Lydia was the first being targeted just because of his connection with him. Even if Lydia had some offenses as well, they were nothing compared to his, so the worst torture should’ve been to him. Lydia could only gag and shake as much as the restrains allowed her to. She didn’t want to cry, but the reaction came against her will. Lyon wanted to do so many awful things to the Masseur right now, from gutting, flaying, turning him inside out. He was having so many violent thoughts. As Lydia suffered, he thought about the two galuds. The fact that they didn’t strip them because Lydia was here demonstrated that they had some conscience, so it was a shame his words weren’t heard. As the horrid event unfolded, Lyon thought, how simple minded could anyone be that were unwilling to bend the oath for a little while if it meant more progress and a strong union? The king, every soldier, they rather have things remain exactly the same instead of jumping to the chance of having their people and themselves live better and expand their society.

In the middle of the night, Angora woke up from one of her many notorious nightmares. Maverick moved away with his family without her, leaving her alone. Shade was still imprisoned, so she couldn’t be with him. Sand Dune, Opium and Random’s jobs required them to be transferred, Latnok still didn’t accept her and didn’t want her to be close to Raclaw and Chester, and Julian was always too busy. When she went to Veris, he slapped her away with his tail, cutting her badly and refusing to accept her back. It was so horrible. Angora lived alone in the past for much time, but now that she knew how great companion could feel, she never wanted to be alone anymore. She couldn’t help but son quietly in that dark room at the thought of having to be alone again and not having anyone accept her or abandon her.

The Masseur continued his assault on Lydia's senses, prolonging the measure for Lyon's disobedience. Perhaps he might have continued a little longer; however, a courier soon made himself apparent, with a scroll case bearing the seal of General Skarp.
"Sir! Urgent message!" the courier announced. The Masseur released Lydia from his grip, and the pain he brought would come to an abrupt halt as if it were never there. With his hands now free, he took and opened the scroll case, reading the contents of the message inside.
"Lt. Col. Mason,
We have received new information, in the form of a message regarding an 'Old Myth' and their seeming efforts to seek us out and establish contact with our nation. On first look, if our understanding of what they are is correct, this appears to contradict the purported purpose of the prisoners' actions. In addition, it is possible that they have a misunderstanding of our nation and its power, as they referred to the recipient as the 'ruler of Galadar.'
In light of this, King Seraos is deciding the next course of action; he believes that it is possible the prisoners may cooperate to some degree in our efforts to understand the letter. To that end, you are to cease any ongoing interrogation efforts (if they have begun by the time you receive this) and stand by. You will be on call for the next day; should King Seraos not receive information to his satisfaction, you are to be prepared to start or resume interrogation immediately.
Sincerely,
General Skarp"

The Masseur became visibly annoyed as he read the letter. "So my work... I... AAAGH!" In frustration, he tossed the message at a wall, as well as one could toss a piece of paper without balling it up, though he retained the scroll case. Spending the next few moments seething, but settling down and expressing no further anger, he handed the scroll case back to the courier.
"Your work is appreciated, Corporal. Let the General know that his orders have been received... and will be complied with," the Masseur said in frustrated acquiescence. "You may inform the sentries to return to their usual posts." The courier left as instructed, as, in a similar burst of magic as previously, the Masseur freed Lydia from her bonds and shut the cell door.
"Now, then... I believe animals like you should learn their place... and that we should proceed until you do. Do you know why I stop here, however, even though I could continue with what I believe should be done, and get away with it? Because it is NOT. MY. CHOICE. TO. MAKE!" the Masseur said as he paced around between the two cells. "Perhaps I should adopt your philosophy, Mr. Lionfish... do what I think is right. Continue our little obedience school session. Put you in your place... I don't decide what your value is, however - my betters do."
The Masseur paused briefly to compose himself before continuing. "So tomorrow, there will be a different approach. They will see if there is something that will make you want to cooperate. And let me tell you... you better be the most obedient little beagles to ever wear merman skin. I will be on standby - and if their new idea doesn't work as they hope, then they will be counting on me to return to my work. And when I start our obedience school again, I will have a make-up class, for our lost time and your disobedience of them. Now then, I will have some tea and some decent bedding sent for you; drink it and get some rest, they will want you lucid when they speak to you. If the thought of dealing with me again is not enough to make you comply, then you will be telling General Skarp and King Seraos that my impression is weak, and I will take that very personally..."
Neither wanting nor caring for any further words from his "animals", the Masseur calmly picked up the paper he threw and the pig corpse he left on the ground before walking away. There would be a significant gap in time before sentries returned to the dungeon section, with the warm chamomile tea and the higher-quality bedding - enough for the two merfolk to have a moderate discussion about their situation.
One such as Lyon could possibly consider the fact that the beds with their ordinary bedding had little redeeming qualities besides preventing injurious strains in one's sleep and preventing the ground from sapping one's body heat, and food and water would both typically be served in a flavorless "soup" for those deemed unworthy of humane treatment due to the severity of their crimes. "I guess they're hoping you'll burn your throats or slowly strangle yourself in your sleep by accident," one of the guards would say discontentedly as they provided the luxuries to the last people who deserved them. It would appear that the Masseur was serious about the prisoners getting rest and being "lucid" - clearly, whatever they were to talk about was deemed more important than the misery they "deserved"...

Once the Masseur left, Lydia looked in confusion... and relief.
“Father?” she started asking.
“I am so sorry for this Lydia.” he apologized immediately.
“It’s alright father. It... hurt.... but...” she started to say, before Lyon interrupted.
“I’m proud of you. You acted like a true warrior, but I wish you didn’t have to go through this. I do believe they found something that is making them reconsider our treatment, and while I’m glad for the break, we still need to be prepared. Be strong my dear. Things... are dire now... but, I want to trust true justice will prevail eventually.” Lyon commented, wanting to remain as positive as this situation could allow. Lydia wanted to follow the example of someone she rescued a long time ago, but it was so very hard. Her father was right though. They couldn’t let themselves fall into despair. If there was a chance they could get out of this, no matter how little it was, they had to resist. At least they were more comfortable than most prisoners were usually allowed to be, although Lyon regretted not taking his daughter’s cooking. Theater meal, rotting in their home. That was the least of their concerns though. After their tea, father and daughter were determined to get the best night’s sleep they could in order to be wide awake and rested for the very hard day that would be tomorrow.

The satyr girl was finally asleep herself, and Draikon continued with his work. The guards in charge would sometimes help him remain awake. When he asked on an update about the case, Draikon was quite fascinated.
“Marvelous. So she played the Pam flute as well as before, but didn’t trigger the magic. Hmm...” he began pondering. It wasn’t enough to tell if the amnesia was fake or not. She could’ve deliberately not activate the magic to prevent escaping or the concept she has truly forgotten. Either way, if she had wanted to escape again, she would’ve done so, but turning herself in willingly meant that she didn’t intend to. The scientist continued with his notes, the girl sometimes muttering but her words couldn’t be understood. She would sometimes reach into the same pocket as before. But that wasn’t the pocket where the Pam flute was.
“Something was there that it’s making her reach out for it. If we discover what it was, it could, maybe, trigger her memories... or make her talk. Whatever the true case may be.” Draikon told one of the guards, who proceeded to inform his superiors. While Draikon was fascinated with the opportunity, he was starting to get tired. He didn’t want to sleep though. He couldn’t. It was going to be a long night, but it was going to be worth it.

With no drastic events occurring less than a day away from Redwater's docks, there was little to do on the ship besides prepare and maintain course. Latnok took the opportunity to socialize throughout the day and become familiar with the culture of the crew - though he would not prevent Raclaw or Chester from going to bed, he stayed up himself a bit into the night to do so, indulging in some rum as he listened to some of their stories while sharing some of his own.
The ward didn't indicate any unusual behavior from Maverick's room, so that was a relief. Being a weaker ward made with less magical energy, Latnok would let it expire instead of renewing it the next day. He would still try to watch out for the untested Huntress; and in the off chance that someone on the ship was murdered, he had a beagle with an excellent nose and a mind-reading fur dragon to help bring swift justice.
Leoquin agreed to take part of the first night; the navigation wasn't much different than it usually was. After finishing, he briefly went over the various maps he had in his quarters indicating different things before he went to sleep.
Latnok would wake up at dawn in the usual manner; he donned his usual armor for the time being, but would have to start wearing the typical leather once they got reasonably close to the island. He would give a hand on the ship as needed, but he figured the most value he could offer was in helping others with their training.

Though there was no window to see out of, the lighting in the dungeon was manipulated via various factors to ensure the prisoners woke as needed. The lights, on dimly throughout the early morning, were suddenly brightened, with human guards rattling the cell bars with nightsticks.
"Out of bed, now!" one ordered, as rations were provided through the section of the cell doors designed for doing so. "King Seraos will be here soon - hope you've had enough time to think about doing the smart thing." The rations were some bread, an apple, and a bit of bacon for each prisoner - nothing luxurious, but good enough to not have to be washed down, and filling and nutritious enough to make one feel prepared for the day. The impending arrival of Seraos would be the best indicator of the most likely possible time to General Lyon; often staying up quite a bit into the night when galuds were more active, Seraos was not typically active at dawn or early morning, but would generally have woken up and completed his daily preparations by mid-morning before attending to his duties for the day.

Lyon and Lydia woke up, feeling much better than yesterday even though they were still prisoners. When being told about king Seraos’ arrival, Lyon simply nodded, while Lydia gave a gentle ‘yes sir.’ The breakfast was nothing compared to what they generally ate, but it was still filling enough. A meeting with the king himself usually meant that the issue was stop important for him to get personally involved. Sometimes it was a good thing, while sometimes it was not. After a good meal and rest, the family was ready to receive him, and answer questions. Lyon still felt lousy that he would have to talk about the Old Myth when he promised not to, but right now, his daughter came first.

Maverick slept earlier last night. He woke up with the sun barely showing up in the horizon, and while in the Enduring Legacy he would usually cook as soon as he woke up, he remembered that was somebody else’s duty in the new journey. Still, he planned to surprise the crew with his own cooking from time to time, but not this morning. He was still sleepy, so he closed his eyes once more. Huntress was also still in her room after a lousy night. Her body was still getting used to the movement of the ship. When she asked one of the minotaurs what was happening to her and almost begged him to keep it between them, she was very annoyed. Why didn’t she know about seasickness? Or better yet, why couldn’t her body get used to it? She was so used to have things her way and not getting sick often, the new experience frustrated her.

Once morning came, it was time for Angora’s usual chores. She had the most horrible of headaches.
“What the heck!?” she complained, being so long since she had a headache this severe. Was it the lousy sleep? Or just hunger? She hoped it would go away soon. Headaches were uncommon among trolls, and despite the pain, she could still walk and do her usual duties. After a hefty breakfast for herself, it was time for Veris himself to eat. One of the wyverns looked at her direction, but he was eyeing the food, not her. It was a nice change, but he better not dare to steal. She reached Veris’ enclosure without a problem, a bit worried on how he would react this morning after the bombshell she dropped on him yesterday.
“Hey. Um, Veris! Breakfast. Good morning...” she greeted, almost stammering. The wyvern had his back turned, so she couldn’t see his face or how he was feeling.

Once the prisoners were finished eating, the guards opened each of their cell doors, taking all of the provisions, utensils, containers, and other provided materials, leaving the cells looking about the same as when the prisoners were put in. Once everything provided was accounted for, the guards left in a hurry, as if they were not supposed to be there.
Such an impression wasn't the most inaccurate statement; after several minutes, the approaching footsteps of several people could be heard, and Seraos' voice could be heard amongst them. Ordinary prison guards would not rate being privy to the dealings of the King; only the Royal Guard was trusted enough for that.
Seraos coming to the prison, instead of having the prisoners brought to him, was likely a sign that he wanted the former General to be cognizant of his current position when negotiating, compared to the throne room or other various places he would normally be talking with Seraos. Soon, he, Skarp, and some of the Royal Guard appeared, stopping in the hallway in between the two prisoners. Skarp looked a little tired, likely from how long he had been up at that point, but still alert.
"Good morning, Lyon," Seraos greeted, notably directly by name without any rank. "Good morning... Lydia, that was it, Lydia. Ah, you two look sharp. Awake and alert, not drowsing or weary. Smart enough to think wisely, and not try to play me for a fool. Good! Now, tell me, you two; do you think I'm too changed and my heart is too cold to do anything but watch while General Skarp does things his way, or do you think I can perhaps make things easier on you if you provide me with what I want? Like, say... information on this Old Myth, its connection to our satyr friend, and an effort by a certain Sergeant Farlo to establish a connection with us?" Seraos evidently wasn't beating around the bush; he watched for any reaction to his revelation of receipt of such a letter, and the name behind it.

Veris groggily roused from sleep, picking himself up and facing Angora. "Good morning, Angora..." he greeted disinterestedly, seeming as tired as if he hadn't slept despite clearly being sleeping when Angora came in. He didn't eat his food with the usual vigor, instead picking up and eating his food with about the same enthusiasm a clerical worker would pick up and read through yet another document in a massive pile while working four hours past their usual ten-hour shift.

Lydia and Lyon heard the voice, but they couldn’t listen to the entire message. Still, something about the sudden thought made them feel... comforted. Soon there was no time to dwell on that, for their monarch has arrived. Even though Lyon was disappointed in the king, he was not angry enough to be rude or scolding. He knew better than that anyway. One thing did concerned him; how did he know about Sergeant Farlo? Did the satyr girl talk?
“The Old Myth is just like the name says your highness, composed of people of the past that we would consider mythical in these times due to how rare they are now. Satyrs, centaurs, fairies, alas, creatures that are too rarely seen or believed to be extinct. They have been hiding for centuries because they are too afraid of suffering the same fate as fauns. But instead of trying to reclaim their lands, they instead chose to hide, being too peaceful to fight, waiting for the right moment to show themselves to humanity again, hoping they wouldn’t be persecuted and could live once again in peace without the need to hide. Sergeant Farlo... he’s the centaur who rescued me and showed me his home. Made me promise to keep them a secret until it was the right time for you and the people to meet them. He saved my life after all, so I wanted to honor his wishes and keep them a secret even though I knew the risks of that. I convinced them to give you a chance. You defeated the Ishulgites, who were persecuting them as well and threatening their very lives, and when I told them you managed to show mercy to a troll of all creatures, it was enough to convince him at last. A few days ago, I was escorting Sergeant Farlo to the palace. He had a peace treaty with him in hopes that you could sign it and finally stop the hiding... but we were attacked by mercenaries before it could happen, which we later discovered worked for the black market. I don’t know how they knew we would be there, but the fact remains that it ruined the chances for a meeting. Sergeant Farlo didn’t want to try again, fearing that he would be attacked out of nowhere again, and he was uncertain if he wanted to try again.” Lyon explained calmly, hoping Seraos was listening enough to understand why he kept the secret.

It was quite agonizing seeing Veris lacking so much spirit and motivation during mealtime. Angora was so used to seeing him eat so voraciously that seeing him swallow his food so slowly was depressing. To think she often told him to eat slower, but now that he was finally doing it, she couldn’t stand it.
“Come on Veris. I got you your favorite meat. Don’t let it spoil, or I’ll... I’ll eat it myself.” she said as jokingly as possible, unable to eat another bite but trying to motivate him. He really looked like a different wyvern. She didn’t want him to feel this way ever, though she was hoping it wouldn’t last. The last thing she wanted was to be with a depressed wyvern for the remainder of the months working there. She wanted to enjoy their time as much as possible and the way things were before, even if deep inside, she wanted to leave the exhausting and dangerous job already.

Seraos listened as Lyon explained the situation, not dismissing anything immediately, as Skarp took notes with a notepad. "Okay, then, a likely story... but tell me. Assuming this is all true, why did you not inform me of this attempted envoy?" he asked suspiciously. "Would it, perhaps, be because you had doubts about the matter as well, just like this Sergeant Farlo, that remained despite knowing the attack was not arranged by our government? Could it be because of your idea of humans? Or perhaps because you felt I was too mentally unstable to come to a reasonable decision on the matter?"
An entire land of mythical creatures - something rather interesting to consider, at least. The potential for knowledge and cultural exchange... There would be more questions to ask regarding it; but Seraos would try to get a few answers at a time for now, and it remained to be seen whether Lyon remained cooperative when pressed. Skarp had at least one question he wanted to ask as well, but would wait for Seraos to finish.

Veris didn't seem to move any faster; the breakfast was essentially a chore that he had to get out of the way in order to keep living. Once he was done, he slouched, looking forward indifferently as he waited to receive direction, instead of standing in his usual attentive matter after breakfast. It didn't matter that Angora was here now - she was going to be leaving, and everything he thought was wrong.

Lyon took a deep breath before answering.
“I will admit my biggest mistake was not to trust your judgement enough to report such delicate information. Reporting the attack meant explaining why we were there in the first place, thus revealing the existence of the centaur and breaking my promise. I was trusting too much in that meeting to take place that day so that I could finally be relieved of the promise, but because of that awful attack, it never happened. The Old Myth, they believed humans, or at least most of them, are evil because of what happened to fauns. Kind creatures that were willing to help, only to be nearly wiped out because of their lands and alchemy, even after they were offering both willingly. That tarnished their view of humankind quite severely, yet despite everything, they bear no ill will to us, just too much caution. Like I said, they rather hide than fight. It’s the life they know. Sergeant Farlo was willing to give our people a chance, and he was made aware that the attack was not by your government, but even so, he started to have doubts. People attacking without provocation? Even if you have nothing to do with it, even if you have good intentions my king, you can’t control each and every single individual’s actions. We can imprison and punish them, but their damage will still be done, so that’s why he hasn’t taken the risk of visiting again.” Lyon explained patiently once more, unaware that even as he spoke, Sergeant Farlo was heading to Galadar again to get the satyr girl back.

Seeing Veris like this was just too painful. He ate alright, but he showed it clearly he did it out of necessity, not hunger or enthusiasm.
“Veris, please, I said I was sorry. I know it’s going to be hard to adjust, but it’s a necessary step... for the both of us. You’ll still have me for some months, and maybe a few more. That’s still quite a long time. And I will still visit you and make you happy.” Angora explained, trying very hard to cheer him up. She didn’t think any other animals has bonded with their caretaker the way Veris did. The fact that he wasn’t eating the same way as before demonstrated how much the news have affected him.

Seraos listened once again, trying to identify any potential discrepancies in the explanation. "Okay, let's see... this Sergeant Farlo tried to establish contact, was ambushed, decided that contact wasn't a good idea, and then... that's when my this disguised satyr - a child - made it to the continent without her parents, carrying a magical artifact for escape, attempted to infiltrate the castle, and attacked my Royal Guard?' he followed up with. "Was she somehow in hiding for so long in our land, or did she get and hide here with your help, like the boy you and your daughter smuggled off the island?" Despite the justifications provided, Seraos remained incredibly suspicious of what he was hearing and the worst-case scenario conclusions that could be drawn.

"Okay..." Veris let out in what was almost token compliance, as he made a half-hearted effort to get up. All he could think about was what happened to make Angora decide that she didn't want to stay anymore. Was it truly not him? Angora was still taking care of him right now because she had to... not because she wanted to. If she wanted to, she would be staying. In the end, he was just another wyvern to another caretaker, for all he thought they were...

Lyon knew it was only a matter of time before the satyr girl was brought out. They knew about the siren boy as well, so he might as well come clean in that too.
“I didn’t know about the children until much later. They came by whale, all by themselves. The girl was already on land by the time I found out. I wouldn’t have let her go if I had known. I’m certain they acted alone, cause there is no way their parents would’ve allowed them to leave their home. I sent the boy away so he could inform Sergeant Farlo they were here and that I would try helping her get back home. That was before I knew she was already in your custody. It’s possible they are looking for them on the islands nearby if they know a whale is missing, not knowing how far they really went. It’s unfortunate what happened to the guard, but I’m very certain it was an accident. Satyrs would never hurt anyone on purpose. Unfortunately, they do have very strong legs, which they use to crush seeds and coconuts.” Lyon explained, very convinced that the kick was just that, an unfortunate accident. Even if satyrs were peaceful, those legs were no joke, and they could cause serious harm without meaning it. For a scared, struggling little satyr girl trying to get away from intimidating men grabbing her, such an accident was very likely.

Angora was glad that Veris was at least trying, but it became evident after a little while that he was only getting up to please her, not because he wanted to. She sighed.
“Alright Veris. I get it. You’re sad and disappointed, but I’m sure it’ll pass after some time. Listen, we can do anything you want today. Anything at all. We usually hunt and exercise, but we can do something different. Get out of the routine a little. I can give you a massage, or we can play a game. Or you can chew on my shield. You haven’t done that for a while, have you?” she suggested, knowing that the gnawing was usually very therapeutic for him.
“You can... also lick if you want...” she then said very reluctantly, not mattering how much time passes, it was still an action she was always going to hate. But if it made Veris happy, even if just by a little bit, she was willing to tolerate it for longer than usual.

Seraos listened again as Lyon spoke, with the tale sounding as outlandish as he'd imagined. "A bit of a far-fetched story... and the satyr won't tell us what she was really here for due to a convenient bout of amnesia," he noted. "But I suppose that, if we can find out more about the situation ourselves, then we can accept a few oddities. So, then, tell me - where are these people? How do we find them? Reach them?" How helpful would Lyon be in the matter? Everything he said still had to be verified, and Lyon would know as much.

Despite the interesting prospects, Veris did not show any enthusiasm in the suggestions, slumping once again. It'll pass after some time, she said... but the only thing that would pass was the illusion that there was ever more to the relationship than a caretaker just doing the job his human put them to. Angora seemed to actually care more about him than just ensuring his basic needs were met - but in the end, she would leave the job, just like others, and be replaced with someone else. Veris knew the cycle all too well, just like most wyverns who were a personal mount - as it turned out, most people who were in a position to have a personal wyvern were often too occupied to personally attend to their wyvern's wants and needs all of the time, and very often, those people who filled in the time gaps had no concern whatsoever besides keeping the wyvern in good health.