Three months had passed since the Blue Moon rose above Reinstle.
Three months since Arthur had stood beneath its pale light and witnessed something he still could not explain.
The visions had returned.
At least, that was what he told himself.
Most days he wasn't entirely convinced.
The dreams arrived without warning and vanished before he could make sense of them. Some nights he saw rain falling against dark windows. Some nights he heard distant laughter drifting through mist. Once he woke certain a voice had spoken his name, only to discover he could no longer remember a single word.
The most frustrating part was how little they revealed.
He never saw a face.
Never a name.
Never anything useful.
Only fragments.
Always fragments.
Arthur sat beside the window of his chambers, staring into a cup of tea that had long since surrendered any claim to warmth. Beyond the glass, morning sunlight spilled across the gardens and rooftops of Reinstle. The city was awake. Merchants argued. Chimneys smoked. Carriages rattled through the streets.
Life continued.
The future, on the other hand, remained unnecessarily difficult.
For the third time that morning, Arthur closed his eyes and tried to reach for the familiar sensation that had once come as naturally as breathing.
Nothing.
No scattered images.
No whispers.
No fragments.
Just darkness.
He exhaled slowly.
The future had returned only to mock him.
A faint snore interrupted the silence.
Arthur looked across the room.
Cheshire was asleep upside down in a chair.
Again.
One leg hung over the armrest. His tail draped dramatically across the floor. The cat looked as though he had been dropped from a considerable height and decided to remain where he landed.
Arthur stared.
The cat opened a single eye.
"You are glaring at me."
"You are upside down."
"That is unrelated."
Arthur continued staring.
Cheshire yawned.
"You look terrible."
"Good morning."
"It is nearly midday."
Arthur glanced toward the clock and frowned.
The cat pointed immediately.
"There."
"There what?"
"That."
Arthur's frown deepened.
Cheshire sighed dramatically.
"You've been doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Frowning."
"I do not frown."
"You absolutely frown."
Arthur looked offended.
"I am incapable of looking offended, Master."
The cat jumped from the chair and landed on Arthur's desk, narrowly avoiding several documents.
"You've become obsessive."
"I prefer focused."
"You spent an hour yesterday staring at a teapot."
Arthur considered that.
"It was an unusual teapot."
"It was a teapot."
"You didn't see it from my angle."
Cheshire buried his face in his paws.
For a moment neither spoke.
The room around them reflected the last three months of Arthur's frustration. Books occupied nearly every available surface. Research notes lay scattered across a nearby table. Several maps of the kingdom remained rolled open near the fireplace.
Normally, Arthur's chambers were immaculate.
Now they looked inhabited which was considerably more alarming.
A knock sounded at the door.
Before Arthur could answer, it opened.
Alfred entered carrying a tray.
The silver-haired butler moved with the calm efficiency of a man who had spent decades managing people who believed themselves important.
"Good afternoon, Your Grace."
"It is morning."
"It is twelve minutes past noon."
Arthur glanced toward the clock.
Unfortunately, Alfred was correct.
"Then good afternoon."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Alfred placed a fresh pot of tea upon the table and quietly removed the previous one.
The old pot was still full.
Arthur pretended not to notice.
Alfred pretended not to judge him.
The arrangement had worked remarkably well for years.
"Lord Vladis is requesting an audience."
Arthur closed his eyes.
"Is he requesting it or announcing it?"
Alfred considered the distinction.
"Announcing it, Your Grace."
"That sounds more accurate."
"I thought so as well."
Arthur sighed.
"Send him in."
Alfred bowed slightly.
"As you wish."
Moments later, Vladis entered.
Then immediately stopped.
A long silence followed.
His gaze moved across the room.
The books.
The papers.
The untouched breakfast.
The stack of reports beneath Cheshire.
Finally, he looked at Arthur.
"Lord."
Arthur nodded.
"Vladis."
Another silence.
"Should I be concerned?"
"No."
"You alphabetized your library."
Arthur blinked.
"...What?"
"I checked."
"You checked?"
"You alphabetized it."
Arthur frowned.
"I don't even like alphabetical systems."
"Exactly."
Vladis folded his arms.
Arthur leaned back in his chair.
"You are exaggerating."
Vladis pointed toward a flower vase sitting on a nearby shelf.
"There's a tax report in that vase."
Arthur followed his gaze.
A tax report was indeed sitting inside the vase.
He had no explanation for this.
"Interesting."
"That was my line."
Cheshire snorted.
Alfred somehow managed to maintain a perfectly straight face.
Years of service had clearly provided excellent training.
Vladis walked toward the desk and sat opposite Arthur.
Unlike Arthur, he looked thoroughly rested.
This was deeply irritating.
His dark coat hung neatly across broad shoulders, and his expression carried its usual combination of warmth and amusement.
People naturally liked Vladis.
Arthur had always found that suspicious.
"You haven't slept."
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"I slept."
"When?"
"Recently."
"Lord."
"A relative term."
Vladis rested his chin on one hand.
"Three months."
Arthur's expression didn't change.
"Interesting"
Arthur considered several possible responses, unfortunately, all of them sounded defensive.
"Wait in the study," Arthur said.
Vladis smiled.
An hour later they sat together in Arthur's private study.
Dark wood shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Maps occupied one side of the room while correspondence occupied the other. A fire burned quietly in the hearth despite the pleasant weather outside.
Alfred entered with fresh tea.
"Would Your Grace like to receive council members today?"
"No."
"Very good."
He paused.
"What about Commander Cynthia?"
"No"
"As you wish."
The door closed behind Alfred. For a few moments, neither man spoke.
Arthur stirred his tea absently before setting the cup back onto the saucer.
"The visions returned."
Vladis frowned.
The words seemed harmless enough, yet Arthur saw the exact moment understanding reached him.
"What did you say?"
Arthur met his gaze.
"The visions returned."
Silence settled over the study.
Even Cheshire looked up from the papers he had claimed as a bed.
Vladis stared at Arthur for several seconds.
"When?"
"Three months ago."
The response only made him look more alarmed.
"Three months?"
Arthur nodded.
"On the night of the Blue Moon."
Vladis leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly.
For years, Arthur's ability to glimpse fragments of the future had belonged to the same category as childhood memories and old scars. Something that had once existed but no longer mattered.
It had vanished when Arthur was five years old.
Neither of them had expected it to return.
"What exactly did you see?" Vladis asked.
Arthur was quiet for a moment.
"A child crying."
"Rain."
"Blood."
"A white dress."
Vladis listened carefully.
Arthur continued.
"Later, another fragment."
"What fragment?"
"A hand reaching toward me."
"A girl's laughter."
"A voice I couldn't understand."
He paused.
"Nothing useful."
Cheshire snorted.
Arthur ignored him.
Vladis folded his arms.
"And since then?"
"Dreams."
"Every night?"
"No."
Arthur sounded annoyed.
"That would have been convenient", he sighed.
"Arthur."
"They come whenever they please."
"A few moments at a time."
"Never enough to make sense of."
His irritation finally surfaced.
Subtle but visible.
"I've spent three months chasing shadows."
That statement alone told Vladis how serious the situation was.
Arthur did not waste time on things he considered meaningless.
If he had spent three months pursuing these fragments, then he genuinely believed they mattered.
Vladis leaned forward.
"And you're certain these are visions?"
Arthur's expression turned completely flat. The look alone answered the question.
"I know what I saw, Vladis."
"Fair."
"What about the garden?"
"Nothing."
"Your mother's belongings?"
"Nothing."
"The archives?"
"Nothing."
"Staring dramatically into mirrors?"
Arthur looked offended.
Vladis continued.
"It seemed worth asking."
Arthur ignored him and casually shifted the conversation
As he always did.
"What about my parents?"
Vladis sighed immediately.
Never a promising sign.
"The archives remain incomplete."
Arthur expected that.
"The missing documents?"
"Still missing."
"The witnesses?"
"Dead."
"The surviving council members?"
"Selective memories."
Arthur nodded.
Predictable.
Too predictable.
Someone had spent decades ensuring the truth remained buried.
Unfortunately for them, Arthur had inherited many qualities from his parents.
One of those qualities was stubbornness.
"Anything new?"
This time Vladis hesitated.
Arthur noticed.
"Vladis."
"A name."
Arthur leaned forward slightly.
"What name?"
"Brian Taylor."
Silence followed.
The name was familiar.
Not because Arthur knew the man but because it kept appearing.
Old correspondence.
Property records.
Trade agreements.
Council documents.
Never enough to matter.
Always enough to notice.
"What do you think?"
Vladis tapped the table thoughtfully.
"I think there is a connection."
"To my father?"
"Possibly."
"My mother?"
"Possibly."
Arthur disliked possibilities.
Facts were considerably more cooperative.
"Keep watching him."
"I already am."
The room fell quiet again.
Vladis leaned back in his chair and smiled.
Which immediately made Arthur suspicious.
"Anything else? If not, you may leave."
"The Spring Festival begins next week."
"No"
"You haven't even heard the proposal."
"You were going to suggest I attend."
"I was."
"Still no."
Vladis sighed dramatically.
"Your social skills continue to disappoint me."
"My social skills are excellent."
"Arthur."
"No."
"Arthur."
For the first time that afternoon, Arthur looked genuinely irritated.
"Must we continue this?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Your Grace."
"No."
"Leave."
Vladis blinked.
"What?"
"Leave."
The smile widened.
"Was that an order?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"Whether you leave immediately."
Cheshire buried his face in his paws.
Vladis laughed.
Arthur's eye twitched.
"Out."
"As you say, Your Grace."
He reached the door.
Paused.
Then added, "You're still attending the festival."
You are impossible."
"That's why we're friends' and Vladis left the study.
Arthur glared.
The effect was ruined somewhat by Cheshire stealing biscuits behind him.
Silence returned to the study.
The afternoon sun glinted upon distant church spires while the river wound through the city like a silver ribbon.
From this height, the city felt strangely distant.
For twenty-four years he had searched for answers.
Now, for the first time, it felt as though one of them had started searching for him.