The sun burned with its usual fiery intensity, but its warmth was not. The midday winter chill reigned over it. Randol stood on the poop-deck; his hands gripping the wooden railing. His eyes lingered on the gathering clouds far on the northern horizon. Thought and foreboding, it crawled between the snow-capped Sentinel Mountain peaks. The clusters of mountains that stood between them and complete destruction. It was dark and foreboding in its vestige as it loomed over the port city on the sea's edge.

"Don't worry about Priscilla, Brother," Desmond appeared behind him. "Cyril will watch over her."

"You're putting an awful amount of trust in her," Randol commented despite not actually being what he was troubled by. "We've known her for less than a week."

"And yet, you let her travel with us," Desmond said. "You could have stopped her."

"You stop her, then tell me how that goes," Randol huffed.

"I'll have that little girl do it," Desmond half-joked. "She seemed quite attached to Priscilla."

"You're going to have to start addressing her less informally once we reach the capital," Randol said. "We're going back to where we belong. We should have never gone out there. We had no business out there."

"We woke Cyril up, didn't we?" Desmond said. "We brought an Angel back into the world. That has to count for something."

"Remember when you were just a bit younger than Lady Hammel?" Randol asked as he turned Desmond. "You had told me you were delving into these ruins to prove to our Father that you could be brave?"

"Yes, what of it?" Desmond sighed.

"You said, if you could bring something to prove you worth, Father would praise you," Randol said. "Maybe it's time to rethink that stance."

"Why?" Desmond asked curiously.

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"Just like in those mountains," Randol pointed north to the fading mountains. "A storm is brewing in the capital. I swear that I will try my best to keep you safe, but what happened out there... We both will have to answer for it... I don't think you'll ever have that chance to earn that praise."

Desmond looked to the sky. Wisps of white clouds slid across the blue sky. He had long stopped trying to impress his Emperor Father. While Randol had been given training, royal armor and a sword; he'd been given a lonely Palace with a single servant. While Randol had earned the love of their country; Desmond had earned contempt. Randol had been given his seat in the Academy; Desmond had fought brain and nail to get in.

Despite his treatment, it still hurt to hear it from Randol. The brother who believed in family first.

"Do you think so?" Desmond said after a few moments.

"I do," Randol said. "Father hasn't stood in your way, but neither has he helped you. I'm not blind to how he views you... But I had hoped you could have earned merits on this trip. However... We failed. I may be spared, but..."

Desmond would not.

"Just like before, I'll get through it," Desmond said. "I always have."

And I have Mai by my side now.

He thought of the poor girl confined to their cabin. They had paid good coin to sail to the capital, but that didn't mean the crew would look fondly on her as a beast-woman. He also didn't mention that Cyril had given him a gift to hand to his father. A priceless orb that'd earn him more praise than Randol could ever dream to earn. More than his other brother as well. He also seconded guessed if he even wanted that after all these years...