There was no sunrise in Tharvaldur.
Instead, the massive chronoclock embedded high in the inner mountain wall shifted its outer ring from deep indigo to pale silver, marking the turn from night to morning. Along the cavern ceiling, rows of mana-lamps adjusted in response, dimming from their warr festival glow to a steadier, cooler tone that signaled the start of the workday.
The city changed with it.
The drums were gone. The roaring laughter had faded. Steam still curled from vents between the bridges, but now it carried the sharper rhythm of industry rather than celebration. A pair of dwarves rolled empty barrels back toward a warehouse entrance. Soone swept shattered glass into a tal pan. The sll of ale lingered stubbornly in the air.
Balthor walked with asured steps that were just slightly too careful.
He was not staggering. He was not leaning. But his usual stride—broad and grounded—had been reduced to sothing more deliberate. He pressed his fingers briefly against his temple.
"I am never," he muttered, voice rough, "mixing dark amber with northern stout again."
Noriel walked beside him, posture still disciplined, though his pace matched Balthor’s rather than setting its own. His eyes blinked once, slower than usual.
"You declared that three tis last night," Noriel said evenly. "I can provide tistamps if necessary."
"This ti I an it."
"You also ant it the previous two tis."
Behind them, Noel walked with far less visible damage. His steps were steady and upright, they weren’t swaying. If there was discomfort, he had already suppressed it. A faint ripple of mana passed through him once.
"You’re both exaggerating," Noel said calmly. "From an objective standpoint, last night was a success."
Noriel glanced at him. "Explain."
"Finally you were able to relax a little, nobody noticed. Nobody.," Noel added lightly, "progress in a matter that has been stalled for months."
Balthor shot him a tired look. "If you call it a strategic maneuver, I’m turning around."
"I wasn’t going to," Noel replied. "But it was effective."
They crossed a narrow steel-reinforced bridge connecting the lower district to the upper approach toward the castle. The mana-lamps reflected softly against the tal, casting long shadows along the stone below.
Two early-shift smiths noticed Balthor and bowed quickly. The king gave them a short nod in return, conserving words.
Empty crates were stacked against a wall. Colored paper from the previous night’s celebration clung to cracks in the stone. Tharvaldur was already resetting itself, discipline reclaiming what revelry had borrowed.
Noriel adjusted his cuffs slightly. "The risk assessnt remains unfavorable," he said. "Leaving the castle without formal escort, while intoxicated, reduces response capability."
Balthor gave him a long look. "You’re still talking."
"And you’re still walking," Noriel replied calmly. "Which I consider a success."
They reached the main approach to the castle shortly after.
The white-armored royal guard stationed at the entrance stiffened the mont they recognized the king. At first, they dropped to one knee in perfect synchronization.
Then they looked up.
And froze.
Balthor’s posture was controlled by will alone. His steps were slower. His expression pale beneath the beard.
"Your Majesty!" one of the guards exclaid, rising imdiately. "What happened? Were you attacked?"
Noel couldn’t help it.
He laughed.
"Yes," he said lightly. "We were ambushed."
The captain of the guard stepped forward, hand already moving toward the hilt at his side. "By whom?"
"A woman," Noel answered without hesitation. "And she stole Balthor’s heart."
Noriel let out a quiet, tired laugh.
Balthor shot Noel a weak glare, though the tips of his ears reddened. "You’re enjoying this too much," he muttered, before pausing and swallowing hard.
For a dwarf to look even remotely close to losing control of his stomach was... unusual.
Very unusual.
The captain assessed the situation quickly.
"...Right," he said carefully. "Support His Majesty."
Two guards stepped in imdiately, one on each side of Balthor, steadying him without making it obvious. They did it smoothly, preserving dignity.
"I can walk," Balthor insisted.
"Yes, Your Majesty," one of them replied respectfully, adjusting his grip slightly.
Noel stepped aside to let them pass.
"Thank you for taking care of him," Noel said.
The captain gave a short nod. Then his eyes shifted back to Noel and Noriel.
"For security reasons, I must ask. Where did you take His Majesty last night?"
Noel didn’t hesitate. "Lower district. A tavern. So music. A little nightlife. Like the old days."
The captain blinked once.
"Right."
"It did him good," Noel added calmly. "Very good, in fact."
The captain studied him for a mont longer, then nodded again. "Understood."
The guards continued escorting Balthor inside.
Noriel paused at the entrance, regaining his full composure now that they were within castle walls.
Noel watched them disappear down the corridor.
’They’ll go out again,’ he thought. ’He took the first step. He’ll be fine.’
A faint smile touched his lips.
Then another thought crossed his mind.
’Now that I think about it... should I help Laziel find soone too?’
He tilted his head slightly.
’I think I am a good wingman.’
Several hours passed.
By the ti they gathered again, the chronoclock above the city had shifted back into deep indigo. The mana-lamps throughout the upper districts glowed warr once more, signaling night inside the mountain.
They were seated in a private dining chamber within the castle—stone walls reinforced with carved steel ribs, a long table set more casually than during formal councils. Plates had been cleared halfway through the al. A bottle of dwarven red sat open between them.
Noel leaned back slightly in his chair.
"You could have invited her to dinner with us," he said calmly. "You two looked good together last night."
Balthor took a slow sip of wine before answering.
"I want to take things slowly," he said. "No pressure. No sudden palace politics crashing into her life." He glanced at Noel, expression steady now. "It’ll go well. And... thank you. For pushing ."
Noel gave a small nod. "It was nothing."
There was a brief pause.
"By the way," Noel continued, "I’ll have to leave soon. My next stop is the Holy Capital."
Noriel’s gaze sharpened imdiately. "You intend to ask the Church for support?"
"I intend to ask everyone who can give it," Noel replied. "The Holy Capital is next. And Redna, the headmistress of Luceria Grand Academy, will be there as well. I sent her a letter."
Balthor frowned slightly. "You’ve been busy."
"No choice," Noel said. "I can teleport there whenever I want, so I’m in no rush. I can at least finish dinner."
A quiet sound of chewing ca from near the table.
Noir sat on the floor beside Noel’s chair, a plate piled high with sliced at nearly emptied already. She devoured it with focused intensity.
Inside Noel’s mind, her voice echoed.
’Yes, I was very hungry, Dad. And the at here is really good. Tell them to pack so for later.’
Noel hid a faint smile.
"Alright," he murmured under his breath.
Noriel noticed but didn’t comnt.
He folded his hands lightly on the table. "When you have confirmation from the Holy Capital, inform . I’ll begin preparing discreet mobilization asures. We cannot afford to be caught unprepared."
Balthor’s expression darkened slightly.
"That’s right," he said, voice lower. "That bastard will pay... What he did to Nicolas... I won’t forget it."
Silence settled between them.
Noel lowered his gaze briefly.
"...Yes," he said quietly. "We’ll have to make him pay..."
The words lingered. Sothing heavier moved behind them.
For a mont, Noel felt the weight of mory pressing against him—Nicolas on the arena floor, blood staining stone, the fracture in sothing that once had been simple.
He inhaled slowly.
Then straightened.
"The dinner was excellent," he said, lifting his glass and finishing the remaining wine. "Before I leave, I’ll use the washroom."
He stood, adjusting his coat.
"Thank you. For everything, Balthor."
Balthor waved a hand dismissively.
"Don’t ntion it, lad. You’ve done far more for than I ever did for you."
Noel gave a faint smile in return.
Then he turned and stepped out of the dining chamber, Noir padding quietly after him, leaving the two dwarves seated in the warm glow of lamplight as the mountain humd beyond the walls.
Noel stepped into the private washroom and closed the heavy stone door behind him, the noise of the castle fading instantly into quiet echoes and distant vibrations from the mountain beyond the walls. Warm mana-lamps reflected softly against polished stone as he exhaled, shoulders relaxing now that the conversations were done.
He reached into his Dinsional Pouch, fingers searching briefly before pulling out the communication device—sleek, rune-lined, faintly glowing with stable mana.
Noir padded in after him, settling near the door, purple eyes watching him expectantly.
Noel smiled faintly as he activated the artifact.
"Ti to say goodnight to the girls, don’t you think, Noir?"
Her tail wagged once against the stone floor.
’Obviously,’ she replied inside his mind. ’They’ll want to know if everything is okay, and right now they can’t afford to get stressed, so you know, don’t stress my moms out..’
Noel nodded, thumb brushing across the activation rune as light gathered in his palm.
For a mont, before the connection ford, the weight of distance disappeared.
Ho was only a call away.
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