Alaric's body vanished instantly. The power of teleportation that he'd earned from Aslan had one flaw, and that was sight. He could only teleport to places he could see. That flaw, however, didn't affect him that much as he was capable of seeing far more than the human eye allowed, through the vines crawling through the foundations of the demiplane.

LionHeart's guardian, a large, majestic white lion, stepped out of a ripple in space and nuzzled his master's side.

[ Just this once, I'll offer the services of the King of Lions. ] The guardian's voice rumbled through his master's mind.

Alaric appeared before a ruined tent, dropping onto the soot-covered plaza softly. He covered his nose and resisted the urge to cough up his lunch. A revolting cocktail of charred ingredients made the air unbearable, and the stinging fumes forced tears from his eyes.

He let a pattern of azure lines cover his hands before he clapped them together and made a parting motion, commanding the wind into an outward gust. With that single motion, the tent was cleared of all fumes, and he could breathe again.

He cared not for the Heaven-Crested Eagle demihumans watching in the distance. From what he could tell, none of them had been injured, most likely after receiving a warning of what was going to happen there.

At the centre of the wreckage lay a broken cauldron, its walls riddled and ripped with halls with its contents ruined. It was a wonder that the item wasn't obliterated when it was most probably the source of the explosion.

Alaric walked past it and approached the reason he'd come here so fast. Coiled inside the charred tent was Troy, silently sobbing. Between him and the cauldron was a massive growth of vines curled up to form a charred orb of protection.

The vines had done their job, and yet, Troy was in a state of disarray. Alaric knelt down beside the boy, "Hey…"

Troy looked up, tears streaming down his face. The sight of his friend seemed to only make it worse, "A… Alaric."

"What happened?" Alaric asked.

"I was careful to check this… but," the boy sniffled, looking around, "The Stone Pills. My notes. The High Bases. It's all gone. I checked my cauldron… I checked for mercury. I don't know how that pill got there…"

Alaric could feel the despair in his friend's voice. Nearly two weeks of constant hard work with barely any sleep, to the point of losing some weight. All that effort put into preparing high-grade Stone Pills and High Bases required for a smooth ritual… for nothing.

"Oh. How tragic!" a voice filtered into the tent. Alaric knew the voice. It was hard to forget when its owner had driven a fist into his gut. He turned to see a blue-haired man staring at them with a contented smirk on his face, "Truly tragic. I mean, he's only the greatest talent I've seen since my days. One in a million alchemists his age can do what that boy is capable of. It's just… tragic to see that even he couldn't hack such a simple ritual. Humans are truly a blight."

Alaric turned away from the Stormrunner with a sigh and lifted Troy's chin to make eye contact with the boy, "What do you need?"

Troy stared into Alaric's green, glowing eyes, dumbfounded. He'd only heard stories about his eyes glowing during the battle against the Dark Mage, a battle he'd spent hiding inside his master's workshop.

Was Alaric angry? He couldn't tell.

The Stone Pills were gone. The tent was a mess, and he was sure a few of the books he'd been using had been destroyed in the explosion. All his progress, gone in just a matter of seconds.

His voice came low, "You should be mad at me. Yell… or something."

The boy's aether pulse,d and the air in the tent seemed to sizzle, but Alaric simply shook his head, "None of this was your fault."

Troy's tears were still flowing, but the look of hopelessness was starting to fade. He looked around and Alaric could tell his mind was starting to note what had been destroyed by the explosion.

"I'd be starting afresh. I'd need all my ingredients and lots of help to get us back on track in the shortest time possible."

"Okay," Alaric nodded, "How many alchemists would that be? I saw you refine bases, but what about the elixirs you were making? Couldn't we buy those instead of starting from scratch?"

"Yes, the High Bases. Those can be bought, but they are expensive. Each costs at least five gold, and you need at least twenty-four vials to cover both you and LionHeart," the boy responded.

"That's okay," Alaric responded casually.

"Do you have a screw loose, Protector? Someone just injured your boy, and you're talking about wasting the demiplane's resources on a repeat of this nightmare?" Rail'ak growled dangerously from outside the tent.

Alaric and Troy stopped for a bit. Troy looked Alaric in the eye, his eyes shaking with fear. The man was Steel Rank, and he was the High Sentinel's son. He knew the man had something to do with this incident, but it was their word against his.

Alaric squeezed the boy's hand. His eyes stopped glowing as he stood up to face the man, "Prince Rail'ak, how many of your people were injured in the explosion?"

"What…?"

"You don't know, do you?" Alaric tilted his head. It had taken a bit of aether running through his vines to create shields around the unfortunate demihumans who hadn't cleared out of the cauldron's blast radius, "And my, how fast you got here! Even faster than Master Corv'ak."

Master Corv'ak arrived at the scene only to be blocked by Alia. The white lion had brought his friends just seconds ago, putting all eyes on the prince as he was the first on the scene. Suspicions rose, but Rail'ak didn't seem to care.

The boy continued, "It's almost like you were waiting for this to happen."

"I see what you're trying to do," the demihuman growled, aether coiling around him as he clenched his fists, "And it's not going to work. Keep running your mouth, and I'll teach you to respect your hosts."

Alaric's eyes flashed neon, and the air hummed, "You show up here so callously, disregard the safety of your own people and place yourself as the first suspect in an event that nearly killed one of mine, and you have the gall to make threats. I knew you were many things, but stupid had never crossed my mind."

Thunder rumbled across the demiplane, and the ground trembled, "Tread lightly, Trespasser. I protect a whole demiplane when you fail to protect five humans." A smirk bloomed on his face, "If anything, this proves your incompetence."

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Alaric gritted his teeth, but the prince was done talking, "Yeah, I see it in your eyes. You think yourself above me. You think yourself beyond raising those fists. Just like my father, you're weak."

The man's words had swirled within his mind, provoking his rage until his last statement, where the prince somehow found the confidence to call a Saint weak. The boy smiled, and the glow in his eyes faded.

"What do you find so funny?" Rail'ak growled.

Alaric chuckled, "When you make a statement like that, you give away quite a few things about yourself. You think your father is weak, but look around you. Do you think he built this demiplane through war? Do you think your father brought forth centuries of peace for your kind by seeking out lands ripe for the taking through conquest? You think your father became a Saint by killing others or bullying those weaker than himself?"

By this time, the High Sentinel had made it to the plaza, only to find the two of them arguing. His eyes misted over at Alaric's words, but he kept his mouth shut and clenched his fists.

"I am not my father," Rail'ak growled back, "And that's why we will prosper without the likes of you." With that, Rail'ak turned to leave.

"Rail'ak," Alaric called him back. The prince stopped to listen with his back turned, "Touch one of my own again, and you'll understand why I call you naive."

"Is that a threat?" The man's stormy aether crackled through the air.

Alaric was unfazed, "It's a warning, Rail'ak. Have a good day."

With that, the prince left, and Alaric's friends came in.

Scarlett was at Troy's side in an instant, engulfing him in a much-needed hug. Lucy joined in after her, a concerned expression on her face. LionHeart surveyed the severity of the damage with Corv'ak while Alia stood guard outside with the demihuman siblings, Rail'ak and Grun'am, watching the High Sentinel and his son argue. ( Or more like watching the High Sentinel giving his son a stern lecture that was bound to go in one ear and out the other.)

Rail'ak truly was the High Sentinel's weakness.

[ What do you plan on doing about Rail'ak? ] Alia's gentle voice interrupted Alaric's thoughts. [ Spend too much time trying to negotiate with him, and you'll just be playing with a loose cannon. ]

Alaric knew what his guardian was talking about. From their first interaction to this point, Rail'ak had only managed to tarnish his name, striking new lows with each time he was mentioned, even during his clone's investigations.

[ I think he should be exiled from the Barren Mountains. He's got his head so stuck in conquest that he fails to see what's in front of him. ] Alaric sighed, [ Some time away from home could give him some perspective. ]

[ I could not agree more… ] the guardian answered, waves of pride spilling through their bond.

Before the boy could decipher the true meaning behind her words, Alia walked up to the High Sentinel and his son and laid it all out for them. LionHeart stopped investigating the scene to look outside. "Why is Bluey looking so angry?"

Alaric leaned against the charred table and sighed, "If I'm not mistaken, then Alia's suggesting exile."

"Isn't that a little… extreme?" LionHeart tried.

"Not after everything he's done," Alaric shrugged, turning back to the items on the table that had withstood the blast. He picked up a peculiar glass flask turned black by the soot, yet still intact. "Time away from the demiplane will test him, but if he's meant to lead the people here, then it will shape him into a leader deserving of the title. If not, then he'll appreciate his father's work."

"Or it could make him your enemy," LionHeart whispered harshly, "This is radical, even for you."

Alaric understood where his friend was coming from, but he hadn't been there during the explosion. Alaric could still feel the burning of his aether channels as he'd strained himself summoning vine cocoons to protect everyone within the blast radius.

"It's mercy," he corrected his protector, "Eleven. That's the number of people he almost killed today, and for what? To get rid of a passing alchemist crafting a Stone Pill?"

Alaric's eyes flashed neon before he took a deep breath. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep himself composed.

Inside, he wanted to beat the prince to a pulp. He wanted to make the prince beg for mercy, but he also understood that this course of action would solve nothing, so he forced himself to remain calm.

"He lacks the ability to appreciate the treasure his home truly is. I cannot explain this enough, so he must live a life away from it," Alaric answered, "Humans do this all the time when we set off from our homes after the Appraisal Ceremony."

Rail'ak came rushing back to the tent, yelling at the top of his voice, "You… Protector. Get your guardian under control and talk some sense into this old man."

Alaric regarded the prince for a while in silence. Really, what could he tell this fuming prince? To him, the prince looked like a child throwing a tantrum in front of everyone rather than taking his punishment gracefully. Then again, it would be worrisome to see him take exile gracefully.

"What are you looking at me for? You're the one he believes to be the Great Protector, so hurry up and straighten this out. Isn't that your job? To protect. I'll even tell my people to stand down and leave your friends alone," he added, getting angrier the more he was forced to negotiate.

When Alaric didn't answer, he took a step back and scoffed, "Oh, so you're in on this, too. You act all innocent, but…"

"How many years has he given you?" Alaric cut him off.

"Five."

"Pfft! That must feel like a few days to one with a life as long as yours," Alaric answered, "It's the bare minimum."

"Bare minimum?!" the prince shrieked.

"Want to make this interesting, Rail'ak?" Alaric smirked.

"Nothing's interesting about exile, but what could be worse? Let's hear it, Trespasser," the man spat.

Alaric shrugged, "You want to lead your people so much, so take these five years to learn what it means to be a leader. Take three Higher Ones of your choosing. They must be willing to follow you into exile. When you return, your father will determine if you're fit to be a leader or not. I'll even endeavour to be present for your evaluation."

"That's agreeable," the High Sentinel stepped in before Rail'ak could negotiate further, "We'll perform the Ritual of Banishment in three days. Come, son. You must prepare what you'll be leaving with."

The High Sentinel left with his son, leaving no room for negotiation. Alaric had never seen him so stern before, but it helped that the prince was obedient and didn't cause a bigger scene.

Alaric's heart was heavy, and he could feel a headache coming on, but it was a pain he didn't resent if it meant his friends would be safer. His hands still trembled with pent-up frustration, but he could bear with that.

Lucy approached Alaric, her face pale and hair clinging to her beautiful face, "What happens if he can't survive out there?"

"If he's anything like his father, then he will be just fine," Alaric responded, or more like deflected. He couldn't afford to think like that, regardless of the consequences. He had to believe that Rail'ak, stupid as he was, had what it took to survive out there in a land laden with demons and ill intent.

"The High Sentinel listens to you like you're some kind of god," Scarlett murmured.

Corv'ak approached them, his voice sombre, "That's because he owes this all to Soren. Rail'ak doesn't understand just how much power Alaric wields because of that, and that will spell his end. But enough of that, let's do some damage control, shall we?"

The rest of the evening was extremely busy. They had to clean the tent and sort out what could be salvaged and what couldn't. There were pills inside that were undamaged, enchanted flasks, equipment and even a few hardy ingredients that had survived the blast, if only to be covered by a thick layer of soot.

Corv'ak cast a few Advanced spells on the singed books, reversing all the damage done to them, a neat trick Alaric would ask the man to teach him later.

The group worked in silence, and at the end of it all, Troy was transferred to the courtyard with all his supplies and given demihuman Alchemists to work with. Alaric ended up spending close to two hundred gold marks replenishing the elixirs that could be bought from the Alchemists of the plaza.

By the time Troy was done accounting for everything, he'd been thrown back two days, which wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Alaric sat outside the new tent, next to the statue of the first Spinmaster, practising his spinning techniques. Aether pushed forward from his fingertips and formed at least ten tentacles waving sluggisly around. It took forever to account for the precise action of each one of them, but he managed to get them to wiggle around enough for him to add two more, as they could only be increased in pairs.

He'd learnt how to summon only the slightest strands of aether to keep himself from damaging his Aether Channels, which in turn trained him in advanced control over his aether.

Everything was going well, and his mood was slightly improving when a white version of himself emerged from his shadow. His friends, who'd chosen to leave him be and train with Alia, turned to see the white clone.

"We have a problem," the clone spoke. Alaric's hands paused, and he looked up, taking in the demiplane covered in the evening glow. The sun here couldn't be seen, but its light still made it through the Storm, a phenomenon he found all too weird.

That wasn't his focus, though. "What is it?"

"Rail'ak is not down scheming," his clone answered.

Alaric's vines fed him information, and from seven different angles, he witnessed a mob crashing through the streets, making a mess of everything on their way to the Pantheon. It was a rowdy bunch, and at its head, a blue-haired demihuman led them with a smirk on his face.

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