“So, you have a mountain of growing problems and won’t have a coin to spend to fix them,” Rafe stated, his mouth in a flat, annoyed line. “We’ll have to be creative.”
“I am pleased to know I can count on the help of all of you. I do not believe I could handle the enormity of this task alone,” Drekkoril responded.
“Don’t sell yourself short. You have everything you need to be an excellent leader inside you, and we can brainstorm every night if we need to. We can theorize solutions, but until they’re implemented, we won’t know how people are going to react,” Rafe said.
“Was it a mistake to give out rewards for people to report crimes?” Rorie asked.
“I think given the lack of coin and your inability to detect if a person is lying, we should shelve that idea when we wake up,” Alaric answered.
“I agree. Were it not so lawless here, it might work, but our people are too swayed by the grayness infusing our magic. I can hardly contain my anger over the violence that has emerged,” Drekkoril commented, the fury in his swirling eyes palatable. “We have a steady stream of Dark Fae marching to their new realm day and night.”
Skeleton Lord Cassius Daray stalked in and tried to push his cloak out of his face, but it wouldn’t budge. “I keep forgetting it won’t disappear. It’s really getting on my nerves. How do you stay under your hood constantly, Albie?”
Another of the revered Skeleton Seven who helped Alaric rule the Sentinel Brotherhood, Skeleton Lord Albrecht Ruarc-Daray was rarely uncovered. “I prefer it. I have had no difficulty adapting to the Fae realm.”
“Maybe he’s a superior sentinel,” his mate, Venerable Knight Arvandus Ruarc-Daray commented with a smirk.
“As the only sentinel to die, your opinion means nothing,” Cassius teased, dropping into a chair. “I have made a circuit around the edge of the realm. The grayness is affecting the land.”
“Drekkoril, perhaps the sentinels should sneak onto the land of the Dark Fae,” Alaric suggested.
The Noble Protector shook his head. “First, I do not know if you could report anything back as this is a dream, and I cannot send any Fae there to do the same task. Second, the Valiant Defender would know the moment you stepped onto his land. What we cannot afford is an attack.”
“That’s true; you have no army. You don’t even have a police force,” Drystan pointed out.
“It will prove most difficult to rebuild, as I have no idea who I can trust,” Drekkoril said. “Is it no wonder that I constantly have pain in my head? The Drek era is proving to be worse than the Vol’Gon one.”
“No, that is not a fair statement. Everything hinges on the Vol’Gon era. They sowed discord and paid attention to the wrong things while letting important ones like military fall to the wayside. The sioskallos used the opportunity of it switching from one ruler to the next to exploit the unrest they understood was festering across the realm,” Emperor Ellery stated.
“I agree with Ell; you inherited a damn mess. I’m not sure if you two had done anything differently, the results wouldn’t have been the same,” Emperor Chrysander added.
“I must argue your point, Chrys,” Rorie interjected. “Had I not fought Drekkoril on every subject, the sioskallos would have had less opportunity to run amok. What is missing from the dream is our constant battles. All you see is the aftermath.”
“It was not entirely your fault. I will take my full measure of it, Roriethiel. I grew disgusted and frustrated, but instead of acting as a good bemollo and coming to speak to you calmly, I led with temper. I made decisions that were not well thought out because I felt undermined. Together we made a situation fraught with issues worse.”
“Let me just point out that neither one of you should beat yourselves up over this. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and you’re both inexperienced,” Saura commented. “As a team, you might’ve made the same mistakes that got you here. There’s no way to know, so there’s no sense in punishing yourselves. What’s done is done, and now we need to figure out how to fix it.”
“How do we know if we can turn the land and the people back to fully light?” High Arcanist Delaney the Dark asked. “I don’t want to be negative, but in our realm, there’s no such thing as swinging from dark to light. Warlocks can go the other way but only once.”
“We do not know,” Drekkoril answered grimly. “All I can hope is to arrest the process. After that mission is complete, we can figure out if there is any chance of restoring the lightness. Tomorrow I have scheduled a meeting with the sioskallos. Roriethiel, I wish for you and Renny to attend. The rest of you can view it from the space above. We must get updates to make sure we have grasped every potential issue at hand.”
“Thank you for inviting me. Ren and I will be happy to support you,” Rorie promised. Renny kissed him, which earned him a smile. From the beginning, he’d wanted Rorie to have a supportive friendship with Drekkoril, and amidst the craziness, he was happy they were managing it.
Chapter 26
Drekkoril had suggested Rorie walk into the siofllar’am at his side in a show of unity, but that wasn’t appropriate. His bemollo was the Noble Protector, and although it would have an insignificant effect on the dream, the future of the Fae meant Rorie needed to respect his position. When he’d opened his eyes with his head pillowed on Renny’s chest, Rorie had reached out with his graying magic to find that a single day had passed. If they were truly nearing the end, then their meeting was of the utmost importance. To fix their problems, they had to know the status of everything on their realm.
“Are you ready?” Renny asked Drekkoril.
“Yes, they are all inside. Are you sure you will not walk in with me?”
“We will be just behind you,” Rorie promised.
With a nod and a deep breath, Drekkoril whipped open the giant doors to find—thanks to the Vol’Gon Era—an extravagant number of sioskallos milling around the room. “Be seated,” Drekkoril ordered once he made his way over to his throne. To his side were the smaller ones for the Protector and, though Renny preferred his title, his mate as well. Around them, the sioskallos produced magical chairs. It ticked Rorie off that some of them were as large and ornate as Drekkoril’s. They had lost respect for the order of their government, and their lack of honor toward tradition was appalling.
“Noble Protector, why did you call this meeting today?”
Rorie had to grind his teeth, so he did not shout that Xaigan had no right to ask such a question of Drekkoril. His only reaction was a slight lifting of his chin. “If you would listen to your query, you would find your answer.”
