What have I gotten myself into?

Tolerance levels notwithstanding, he already had a preference between Prince Senko and Gilded Jackass — he could hold an intelligent conversation with the addled Crown Prince of Tervale more than he could with the retinue he was also saddled with. Braziers hung over lampposts and kept the persistent bite of cold at bay. Strange plague also notwithstanding... I don't think I've ever seen people look so miserable, and I've seen some miserable people, namely me. This is why I don't like mirrors. Reyes walked along, flanked with Prince Senko on one side and Gilded Knight whose name passed him by on the other. In the training fields, more pompous knights whacked at each other with dulled blades. Training. Maybe they'll train their way into getting whacked upside the head. He smiled at the imagery as a couple of squires stood back, observing, learning.

"You are to have only a couple hours to gather what you need," Gilded Knight said.

"Who are you talking to?" Reyes mused and readied his pack when they came closer to the gatehouse to the common quarters.

"You, Mage."

"Ser Joyen, what have we said about using people's names?" Prince Senko questioned with a tilt of his head around him. "Mr. Drazir will be with us for a while — as our court physician no less. I daresay if you come under illness, I'm afraid he'll have to deal with you, and he might remember the rough treatment." He adjusted the fur strap around his waistcoat, and the Crown Prince's attention drew to him, like he was a shiny for a raven to pluck out of someone's hands.

It's like dealing with a petulant child, though I've seen young, indignant children with more humility than... Joyen? Is that really his name? He slowed to a stop when Joyen pushed his spear into the ground with a deeper scowl, but he bowed to Prince Senko and held his mouth shut — miracles could happen.

"So," Prince Senko mused. "What are your plans for your hours of freedom, Reyes?"

Reyes flicked open his herb book and rifled through the information as they stopped outside the gatehouse, with Gilded Joyen waving his hands up at the guardhouse. He lowered the notebook when Prince Senko crept closer. It didn't take much to swat away a curious bird, though when he had the audacity to prod Senko's arm out of his way, Joyen twisted on his heel with the shaft headed for his innocent shins. In one swift movement, Senko grabbed the shaft from behind his back, using him as some sort of crutch when Joyen relaxed his stance and tucked into his shoulders in what he hoped to be a welcome dose of shame and humiliation. A vibration swept down Senko's arm from the clash of hands with wood.

I doubt it. Reyes pushed his nose into the sweet parchment. "If the knight wishes to throw a tantrum, Your Grace, just let him. I've been whacked over the head with worse."

Senko's other hand slipped off his shoulder, and he lowered his gaze when the Crown Prince of Tervale went ashen pale and hit the dirt on his knees, causing all the knights to scramble into action, swords at the ready. "Honestly," Reyes mumbled when they pointed the sticks at him, kneeling for Senko when he shook out his head, the black waves bouncing at the movement. "You're not recovered from your cave fever."

Prince Senko released a laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm off my game, I guess. Lucky you, Ser Joyen, but do refrain from whacking at him. Command, not a request." His smile revealed a sharp ferocity, and against his better judgement with the habit of his duty, Reyes proffered a hand out to the weakened, but strangely still vicious prince. He dragged Senko to his feet, then put a hand on his back when another vibration of nausea overtook the Crown Prince.

"Can you take your royal decree and go sit in the palace gardens? You have those, don't you?" Reyes raised his hand off his back, but placed it back on his spine when Prince Senko swayed. "I'd rather not have you collapse while I'm trying to collect herbs. I'm not good at multitasking with measuring and royal babysitting." He waited for one of the knights to support their Crown Prince, but before he headed for the open gate, he sighed when Joyen shoved himself into his shadow instead. "You seem to think I have the startling need to escape."

"What's to say you won't, Mage?"

My lack of dignity, that's what. "Just be quiet. I need concentration and listening to a harpy doesn't help me."

"You don't command me."

Reyes looked at Prince Senko, who turned over his shoulder. "Ser Joyen, don't make me heighten my decree, I'll make a loud fuss and make sure His Grace hears it."

Reyes grinned when Joyen muttered something which sounded suspiciously like 'belligerent', but he folded his lips inward. Hm, I might have a muffle spell, though I'll need to find something to hold the noise. He frowned when Prince Senko breathed deep, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck. "Be sure to have him sit down where there's sunlight, and, I know this might be quite the insurmountable task, but keep him there," he said to the knights hanging onto their Crown Prince for dear life. "I shall be right back to check on him." Reyes stomped through the gatehouse and into the quarter the inner parts of the city tried to push away from the towering palace, whose bell tolled for the noon. Gilded Joyen stepped on his shadow at every opportunity, but he found his attention waning as he observed the Tervalen's go about their normal days.

Children hid in their parent's smocks as their boots clicked against the cold cobble. Nearest the wall, the forgemaster pounded on metal. Flames blasted out of the furnace when they tucked the unformed blade into it. His annoyance of a companion continued to keep his mouth shut, though when he checked on him, his glare spoke more complaints. Reyes stopped at the edge of the city, where the buildings loosened for further grasslands and small bunches of trees. He glanced at the alchemist's shop. Through the window, a cauldron bubbled and magick glimmered over it, a woman revealed herself with a swipe through the air. Purple stars followed her movement as she cut thin pieces of herbs as she set the alembic for distillation. Her black curls fell around her waist in thick bundles, but Reyes looked at Joyen. "The Chancellor mentioned a plague."

Joyen scowled. "It struck in the night and with no lead-up," he stated. "None of the alchemists within Tervale have been able to figure out a source, let alone a cure."

Reyes checked on the path he left behind, where people fought for their lives with each moment. "Have people died? If you've left the bodies out in the streets—"

Joyen came closer to him with a snarl. "Do you think we're so crass with our dead?"

Reyes leaned back to avoid the pomposity from infecting him. "A lot of people are," he pointed out. "I'm sure I don't have to explain that not disposing of the bodies in a proper, timely manner will make things worse. I'd hope that's basic knowledge." Reyes folded his arms when Joyen quivered in his own irritation. "I've been compelled to help, or should I say, I'm trapped. You could walk away right now and I'd have no choice but to go back to the palace once I'm done here." He flipped through his notebook and continued on, and he sighed at the crunch of metal heels. "I'm surprised you're not smothering the Crown Prince — I thought he was so addled that he couldn't take care of himself nor could he form coherent thoughts." Reyes whipped on his heel and forced Joyen to come to a stop. "What happened to that, Ser?"

"He is addled," Joyen insisted. "He used to be strong, fierce and unyielding."

Reyes raised an eyebrow. "I'd say he's still those things... and then he lost his brother. Grief can do many things, but I wouldn't say your prince has an addled mind for it."

"He claimed to see something that wasn't there," Joyen argued.

"Talking..." Reyes closed the notebook with a satisfied huff, herbs committed to memory. "You speak as if he is no longer those things. I heard he was trying to murder your knights. Imagine losing to a sick young man." Reyes walked into the fields.

"Kevalin was a weak point — he was not his brother." Joyen slowed to a stop. "He was too gentle. Too soft on those beneath him — I would not be surprised if he let the assassins right in." He folded his arms, where the plate clanked against its hinges. Fire licked at his skin as Reyes stood in the field of flowers, burning to ash in the sand. A desert dragon came over the dunes and laid waste in the rage of its star-filled breath when it slammed down the tempest on the city of marble growing out of the pale-gold landscape. Embers crinkled in the darkness, but when Reyes released the breath of draconic fury, trying to escape its might and cruelty, he let it go and took out a pair of clippers and ignored the knight as he toyed with fire.

"Even the softest sheep still has teeth," Reyes mumbled as he shaved off some of the extra leaves with the inferno long dead in his chest.

"What was that?"

"Idle Mage musings," he said and wrapped his bounty with careful hands into a bundle for later storage. "Not here to argue specifics as to the Crown Prince's ailments with you, Ser. As he is my patient, I'm not at liberty to discuss anything more than that. You are free to have your initial opinions, but it's not of your concern." He hurried out of the flower field and past the alchemist's shop. "I'm just the Mage you captured — did you have to break my stave, by the way?"

Joyen went silent again.

I'll take what peace I can get.

Through the bulk of the city once more, his footsteps faltered outside an alleyway, where two children huddled close together outside their house, wrapped in furry blankets as one trembled into what must have been their sibling. A wet cough slipped past their lips and ran down their nose as the older one soothed them.

"It's okay, Reyes, I know it wasn't your fault," the young girl's voice said over his head when he tucked into her shawl.

"Time's up, Mage," Joyen said.

A dead ember, not even able to light a candle... Reyes held out his palm. Starry flames licked at the boundary of his fingertips, he headed into the alley with his singular light. Both the children snapped their heads up when he stopped in front of them. On his knees, he looked into the sickly child's eyes. Heavy shadows caked their features, and both slid into the shadows when Joyen's hard, annoying footsteps clanged through the stones.

He snapped his fingers before the knight came too close.

Every one of them froze against his threatened might.

Tangles of woven flames danced across his palm and gathered into the last piece of coal still able to fan the fire of the desert. He closed both hands, pressing his nose against it and imagined a solid foundation. It crinkled in his ears, and he opened up his hands to reveal a glassy sphere, warm to the touch and reflected over his skin. Joyen set his hand on his swordbelt, but Reyes held out the sphere to the two children.

"I know it's not much, but this should keep you warm," he said.

The sickly child dove behind their sibling with a small whimper, but the oldest gazed at him with their arm in front of the younger.

"This was not your fault, Reyes."

He stretched out his hand.

"You didn't ask for this."

It floated above his palm, and he drew his hand back when the oldest took it into their chest and held it out to their sibling, who peeked out from around their shoulders. He set his arm across his knees when the two cuddled closer to the sphere of embers underneath the large cloak. Back to his irritation, he checked on the two children, who huddled closer to the staircase into the house and glowed in the light of his forgotten pyre before following Joyen back to the palace, a sense of finality trampling the rest of his dignity into little pieces of kindling.

Through the gatehouse, Joyen took him straight to the palace gardens, where Prince Senko sat against a bench with his hands on his lap. "Ah, good to see you two didn't kill each other," he joked.

Reyes stood in front of him, then knelt down to look the Crown Prince of Tervale in the eyes. Windswept grief spiralled the pale greys, with no sense of letting go. "I shall discuss your condition in your room, Your Grace," he hesitated, then muttered under his breath, "Alone, I don't need to be hounded by your retinue."

Prince Senko blinked, then nodded.

What have I gotten myself into? Dragons, Reyes, what you always get yourself into. It's like being Starborn has made me unable to flee into the shadows of the other half.

I can't close my eyes, that's my problem. I give every piece of embers to those who need it more than I could ever want it — and I can only hope that it doesn't destroy them from my touch. He dug his fingers into his knees and straightened himself out, digging his teeth into his lips. This magic is worth nothing. I don't want to destroy the world with it. I don't want to mix my blood into the Elder Star and recreate the Great Inferno, as if I ever could.

I'm a Starborn who can barely ignite a single flame for two children to hold onto through the dark.