Ilyana chuckled softly at the Prince's reaction as he seemed to jump out of his skin, exactly what she expected. Papers shuffled and floated to the ground with his quick movements, maps and notes of all different agendas. Her lips held a faint smile as she watched the Prince question his sanity, how funny. “You may be like your father but you are not mad…yet” she said simply as the Prince walked closer. “I am quite flattered you don’t see me as a horrid beast tho” she teased. Was that a joke coming from her?

As the Prince realized she was truly there she stepped away from him, her eyes flicking between both of his. Her hands that sat at her side soon clasped behind her back as she strolled slowly, her shoes clicking softly against the stone floors. Her eyes took in her surroundings, taking note of every little detail there was. Her steps led her to his desk, unclasping her hand and flicking a finger. The papers that scattered the floor soon floated up into the air and into her hand. Her back faced Ivan as she flipped through the pages, reading over the maps and plans.

She shook her head a bit before setting the papers down, leaning over the desk to look at the others. “Your father must have never taught you proper planning” she simply stated. “A war draft? That is just means for failure” she added. A soft huff escaped her lips before she waved her hand over the desk, the papers quickly igniting into a small flame and crumbling to ash. “We have some work to do,” she said to herself before turning. She leaned back against the desk, resting her hands on both sides to prop her up.

Her blue eyes watched the shocked expression upon the man’s face, this was quite amusing. “I guess I should explain.” She began. “I guess I’ve had a change of heart, and a bit of boredom. And now seeing your plans, a bit of pity”. Ilyana found it quite fun to mess with him, his temper and stubbornness easily apparent. “Well, that is if you can give me a reason to help, because I truly don’t think the Kingdom would even appreciate it.” She added

Ilyana crossed her arms over her chest, the corners of her lips curling once more. She had all the time in the world so even if this trip would fail, it wouldn’t be a waste of her time. Then she could watch from the sidelines as Ivan continued with whatever plans he tried to come up with.

Ivan worked his jaw as he stood in the corner, watching her trash his room and crush his hopes and dreams. Who did she think she was, lighting the last two days’ worth of work on fire like it was only kindling? His mind worked too quickly for his mouth to even attempt to keep up, leaving him speechless and silently fuming at the witch’s audacity. There were so many things that he wanted to say as she spoke on: she should forget anything he said about what she may or may not look like; no, he hadn't learned a single thing from his father in the last decade; that he didn't want pity; or that war was coming whether or not it was warranted, and that meant war drafts! But nothing left his lips, and perhaps that was for the better; he already struggled to think straight, and his weak protests would only fuel the fire between them.

Instead, he gripped his wrist tightly behind his back and watched, sending petty thoughts the witch’s way instead. What could he offer her in exchange for her aid in defending the kingdom? Was this a trick question? Was she truly expecting him to pick the perfect words when he hadn't slept in days and had a single brain cell to his name? The prince inhaled slowly and exhaled in a long sigh, chewing the side of his bottom lip.

“As long as your terms will not endanger the innocent among Calerians,” he finally said, “I will grant you whatever is in my power to do, whenever you ask it.”

It was a blank check and the best idea he could come up with in that moment. If she wanted a lifetime supply of herbs, he'd make sure they were grown and delivered. A lady dragon for that nasty black creature at her side? He'd figure out how to get one. Her own castle? The kingdom itself? Safety? Those were all doable. Prison time for anyone who scorned her? That one was a little iffy, but if that was the price for saving everyone's sorry hides, then so be it. Marriage? Now, that would be hasty; certainly not.

Ivan held her gaze, eyelids drooping against his will, giving him a much more deadpan look than intended. “There's no point in me trying to suggest that I'm not desperate. I am. Whatever conditions you set, I will fulfill them. I may be my father’s son, but I do love my people. I will not risk their lives for the sake of pride.”

Funny. He was certain that he'd heard the same words from Agerion many years ago, when the king had first accepted the crown. Oh, how the times had changed– and not long after the memory, at that. Well. Perhaps the saying was true, that people either died heroes or lived long enough to become villains. Now was not the time to wonder about distant times, though; first, he had her to deal with. Speaking of... Without much forethought, he asked, “What is your name? 'White-Eyed Witch' doesn't exactly roll off the tongue.”

Ilyana. The woman who only wanted peace and quiet. What a strange character. So comfortable invading strangers' brains, too. Ivan shook his head, touching his forehead with the same gingerness as someone investigating the seriousness of a wound, half afraid that there would now be a bloody gash there. It didn't hurt, but it was still an uncanny feeling, even if the entire duration of the ordeal had only lasted a moment. To rummage around for his deepest, darkest secrets and then call him a zombie took confidence, and no matter how frustrated and frazzled Ilyana made him feel, Ivan had to at least give her some credit for the stoicism.

Besides, she was right. He felt like death was knocking on his door, and nothing sounded better than sleep. The torture of the last few days had been alleviated by the witch’s return, as strange as that thought was. Now, sleep actually sounded plausible. Had she done something to him, or had his conscience simply lightened a few degrees? He couldn't tell, but frankly, he didn't care. Ivan collapsed face-first onto the bed and rolled into the middle, boots and all.

***

The next few days were busy for the entire castle as a newly rejuvenated prince began tackling reconstruction projects outside of the palace itself, focusing more on surrounding cities. Roads were less of a priority, but building defenses around the more vulnerable towns required something better than hiking trails to move goods. While materials and masons were redirected to those areas of infrastructure, Ivan himself was preoccupied selecting candidates for a new council. Besides, if he and Ilyana ever had to be away for long periods of time, then somebody had to be in charge, and there were no royal relatives still alive to pass that burden on to.

Ivan spent more time watching shadows than he would admit to, yet the witch had yet to reappear. Well, until she did, the prince had to keep himself busy. Still ruminating in the back of his mind were wonderings regarding Agerion’s death, but as much as he hated to acknowledge it, Ilyana was looking less and less to be the culprit. Agerion had been powerful, but Ilyana could have snapped him into oblivion in a second.

“Does Your Majesty think she was the assassin? Pardon me, but can we trust…?” Aaron had asked the day before. Ivan had shrugged and replied, “I wouldn't believe her if she said she was not involved, but I wouldn't believe her if she admitted to it, either. It's been many, many years since anything around here made any sense.”

Now, he was letting yesterday distract him from what needed to be done. He sighed and pushed himself away from the desk, standing with a groan. It had been too long since he'd moved last, and now his legs seemed locked in place. Another huff escaped him as he began walking in a stiff circle to loosen the cramped muscles. In a chair in the, his mother sat embroidering and watching him from the corner of her cool, gray eyes.

“You're muttering, love,” she mused, hand paused in the air with the needle. Ivan paused his pacing and looked at the woman, and for a brief moment, everything was right with the world. The firelight danced across Elandrin’s tan skin and white hair, and the tiny jewels on her dress sparkled in the orange glow. And yet, though it was faint, Ivan could see the other side of the chair through her regal frame. He ambled to her side and reached out, fingers swirling through what should have been her arm.

“Muttering to a dead woman,” he replied softly, dropping his gaze. Elandrin chuckled and teased, “I wonder where you get that from, hmm?”

When the prince raised his eyes again, the queen was gone, and he was once again alone. He stood in front of the empty fireplace with his hands clasped behind his back and stared into the shadows, almost wishing he could hear Ilyana’s voice among the snapping logs.

Ilyana had spent the next few days caring for her small livestock and making sure everything was settled while she was away. For her home and animals were her family. She also took this time to think, to truly prepare herself for a war that was to come, a war that was imminent. Soon the day came that Ilyana would return to the Kingdom of Caler, visiting for more than just a moment and out of the shadows. How would everyone feel about the Prince’s decision? Would they comply? Or would they betray?

Ilyana packed lightly, a small satchel with what she would need. She adorned herself in attire fit more for work and combat than her leisure wear. Simple black pants and knee length leather boots fit her bottom half, while a red and black embroidered top sat on her torso, the fabric long in the back almost like a cloak. Her ebony curls still framed her head; the strands near her face were tied back in an intricate braid.

Since Ilyana would be staying much longer, she would be bringing a friend, one she knew no one would be happy to see. It was a must though, Diaval was a main piece in her puzzle. Mounting the beast's large form, she sat sturdy, holding a spine as he took to the sky with a shrill sound. She had decided not to make a surprise entrance this time. The journey was not too long on dragon's back, and Ilyana quite enjoyed the flight. The freedom to soar through the sky was an amazing feeling that no one truly ever understood. The dragon soared smoothly through the sky, at some points dipping and diving as if he was playing, a true laugh escaping Ilyana’s lips at one point. But as they neared the Kingdom’s edge, the fun was over. It was time to focus.

Of course as soon as she was seen in the sky the guards were alert, swiftly passing the message to the Prince. They had been warned of her presence, but to bring this enormous beast as well, that was quite the shock. Ilyana landed Diaval in a large clearing just outside the castle’s wall, the beast careful of his form. As he landed the ground shook, a large grumble erupting followed by a small puff of smoke. Ilyana easily dismounted off his side, running her hands over her clothes to adjust them for a moment before she began her journey inside. Guards stood outside the entrance, their wide eyes watching as she neared.

“I suggest leaving him be unless you’d like to be a snack” she said referencing the beast that looked to the guards, Ilyana simply walking past them. They would soon learn Ilyana took nothing from no one, ignoring the guards who informed her that they would get the Prince. She had business to attend to and she would not be waiting.

The royal library had been shifted into a council room, a large oak table in the middle with a map of the kingdoms. Chair enough for the council to join as well. That was her destination. Swiftly she moved through the stone halls, the heels of her boots clicking and echoing with each step. Her face held the same unimpressed look as it always did, ignoring the looks she received. Whispers already filled the halls, servants and guards speaking to one another. Of course she had been blamed for the chaos that struck the castle, and now here she was, freely walking as she pleased with her oversized lizard in the gardens.

The doors to the library opened wide as Ilyana neared, her shoulders rolled back and tall, her hands clasped behind her back. She was ready to get this over with just as much as everyone else was. She knew this would be a task, no one here seeming to prove any knowledge of real war, especially this makeshift council. Ilyana gave Ivan a curt nod as he introduced her to the crowd, her bright eyes scanning over the faces of those before her. Immediately she was already beginning to read them, taking in every detail, each slight movement, observing silently. She knew each and everyone wanted her long gone, or even dead, so to watch them have to tolerate her brought just a flicker of excitement.

Ilyana patiently waited a moment for everyone to get their words out, including Ivan before she began. Her hands unclasped from behind her and set themselves on the oak table before her, still standing and refusing to sit. Her eyes left the audience and looked over the map that had been sprawled out over the table, small wooden carved pieces being used to mark kingdoms, armies, all sorts. Even a carved dragon and female piece had been made to represent herself and Diaval, how cute. The council had begun to discuss what was on the agenda, the conversation blending between the group as they failed at staying on track. However, Ilyana seemed to tone them out. She reached forward and began to move the carved pieces, her mind twisting and turning as she ran ideas through her mind.

Ilyana was quite smart when it came to things like this, her mind able to think of all the ways an enemy would move, reasons they would or would not do something, she took in all accounts. She looked at results from every angle, from both sides. As the group began to grow louder in volume, she finally stood tall once more, her brows furrowing slightly before interrupting. She had no time for manners.
“All of your plans will fail at some point, you are all ignoring the minor flaws hoping they will mend themselves.” She began, her form beginning to move around the table as she looked to the map once more. She took slow, eerie steps, her presence alone unnerving those who sat silently.

“Caler is injured, its structures will not be mended in time for this imminent war so we must push farther out. To allow a gap between the battle and home. But, this means we will be closer to Eloria, where they know their land and feel safe.” Ilyana spoke, her voice strong and clear. Her eyes gained a faint hint of white, blending in with her pools of blue as the carved figures began to move with her words.

“Eloria though, does not have a dragon…or a witch. We must first cut off their safety, trap them into a zone where it will be easy for us to attack and harder for them to retreat. Diaval and I shall flank their army, blocking off their ability to retreat back home and stop any more from pushing forward. Our men will attack the blocked group.” Ilyana explained, the figures sliding across the board in simulation.

“Once their first group is diminished, they will expect us to continue attacking from the front line now that is clear. They will be wrong, we will have two more groups attack from the sides, while Diaval flanks from behind. I will work from the center.” Ilyana finished.

Before anyone could speak to this, a sudden scoff sounded, coming from the seamstress. Her arms sat crossed over herself as her expression sagged into a frown. “I don’t understand why we are following the words of a witch? What does she know of battle? How do we know this isn’t just a trap? Leading us into our own graves." Her voice held a pitched tone that rang in Ilyana’s ears, her brows furrowing deeply. Shadows began to snake from her form, raising her finger to her lips, she let out a quick “Shhh”.

In a mere second the seamstress’ mouth disappeared, leaving a flat, smooth spot where her mouth once was. Instantly she clawed at the area where her mouth should have been, the others around her giving terrified looks between each other.

“If I was wanting to lead you all to your graves, you would have all been there years ago. I wouldn’t be here trying to help you pitiful souls. Maybe I should change my mind now and have Diaval finish the damage that has been caused? Or would you all prefer to shut up and listen to the only person who is going to be able to help you all see your families after this?” Ilyana spoke, her eyes flickering between blue and white. Her voice was like acid as she spoke, the tips of her fingers fading black as she bawled her fists. It did not take long for everyone to quickly nod their heads, too afraid to speak. Even Aaron shook his head quickly in reply.

“Good, you have come to some sense,” She added before looking at the seamstress. Soon her mouth returned to how it should be, though she was quite tempted to keep it missing. For the remaining of the meeting, everyone stayed in line. Each member explained what they could do to support the needs of preperation, chipped in on ideas, kept things civil. Ilyana had sat back and stayed quiet, her job was done. She felt as if she could praise the gods when the meeting was adjourned though, ready to get out of that stuffy room and seclude herself once again. As everyone departed, she too followed a distance away.

Ivan had suspected that drama would unfold at the meeting, as it always seemed to pop up at the most inopportune times. Lo and behold, Ilyana hadn't been speaking for more than five minutes before the prince's previous commands were thrown out of mind and the seamstress raised her voice in nasally opposition. Ivan’s lips tightened in dissatisfaction, and he made no move to intervene as the witch took discipline into her own hands. It was a more effective means than himself saying anything; after all, Calerians were just as wary of him as they were of the witch, but between the two, Ilyana was much more powerful.

Her display was the only demonstration needed for the remainder of the meeting, which went relatively well, all things considered. There were a few bruised egos and startled hearts, but both would settle. As the council members shuffled out, Ilyana followed. There was no doubt that she was ready to leave this place. Because she caused its destruction? The unwelcome thought drifted in before he could suppress it, and Ivan inwardly winced. Now was not the time. He needed her; whether or not she had killed Agerion was irrelevant to the country’s current predicament, and besides, he'd promised her peace after all this was done. There would be no backtracking on his word. The last thing the country needed was yet another ruler whose word meant nothing but death.

Ivan caught himself frowning after Ilyana’s receding form and growled, shaking his head to clear it. He needed to talk to her before she left, and instead he was wasting time eyeing her like she'd already been convicted. Pathetic. He would not turn out to be his father; he would not. Forbidding the thoughts once more, the prince closed in on her.

“Ilyana, I know you'd likely refuse to stay at the castle, but I would like to have a more predictable means of communicating with you. Watching the shadows in my room is… not cutting it. We have three months to mobilize to the Eredor Mountains, and that's too short a time to be able to risk talking past each other,” Ivan said. “You don't need to visit, but if I need to contact you, is there anything faster than a three days’ ride?”

Ilyana had already started her journey down the stone hallways, planning to check in on Diaval and make sure he had not destroyed anything yet, or anyone. Though as he steps led her away from the library, a voice stopped her in her tracks, Ivan. Ilyana turned as he began to speak, his nerves basically radiating off of his body. She stood quietly as he explained that the time was coming quickly before they would have to mobilize, but him explaining he had been watching the shadows sprung a tightness in her chest. Never before had someone seemed to watch the shadows and wait for her, many feared them. Fearing what lived in the dark void. He did not seem to. She brushed it off as nothing and gave a small sigh and nod before she spoke, “I will…stay. Caler needs me in case the plans go array and Eloria decides to make another move. They are too unpredictable” She began, hesitation dripping from her tone. She did not want to stay here, she wanted her safety and seclusion away from others but knew it was a sacrifice she must make.

“Diaval will patrol the outskirts and keep an eye on any movements, he will not act without me. I will help with what I can here for the time being.” She added, her hands clasping before her. For once she felt…nervous. These people here hated her, thinking that she caused this. Ilyana feared the corners and shadows for whoever may be hiding to stop her. She was powerful but only by so much, her body could not stop a sword or dagger if she was not prepared for it. What if all of this was just to end in betrayal? Could she really trust him? For now she had to.

“I will have a maid find me a room in the servants quarters, out of the way. I'll begin assessing our defenses in the morning, see what we need and must train.” She added. Ilyana planned on working as much as she could behind the scenes, she did not want to be up front and lead all of it, in case Eloria got wind that they would be attacking with the help of a witch. Her plan would falter instantly. Ilyana had begun to turn and leave when she paused, looking to Ivan once more, “Don’t get your hopes up that I’ll be hiding in the shadows of your room anymore” She said, a faint smile pulling at her lips, a playful joke. She was trying her best to keep the mood light in these last few weeks of peace, before war and sadness took over once again. With that, Ilyana continued down the halls and made her way to the gardens where Diaval waited. The beast let out a low, purr like grumble as he saw his companion again, stretching his neck towards her. Ilyana smiled as rubbed his large snout as she looked to the guards who stood nearby. Even though she could tell they were shaking in their armor, they were also so intrigued. Everyone their whole life was told how these creatures lived just to kill and destroy, and here one was, basking in the warm sunlight.
“They only attack if provoked” Ilyana simply stated as she ran her hand across his cheek, “They are one of the most loyal creatures alive, more than a dog to its owner.” She added.

Ilyana looked back to Diaval and took a step back, “Sōvegon Diaval, Urnēbagon” (Fly Diaval, Watch) She said, raising her hand to the sky. The beast grumbled and soon stood, the ground shaking below. He let out a long snort as he shook his body and stretched his wings, pushing himself off the ground and into the sky. As he rose into the sky he let out a shrill roar, soaring over the Kingdom above. His patrol had begun, Ilyana turning to the guards she spoke, “He will patrol from the skies the areas we cannot see from here.” She stated simply before she left to find where her quarters would be.