This was not going to work — he'd told himself over and over again, but for some reason he continued to walk down the halls with two teacups, a teapot filled with rosewater and a pair of saucers. Was he mad? Probably. Actually, scratch probably, he was absolutely mad. Seishin's words echoed in his mind as he walked, buzzing around like a migraine that wouldn't go away. He let out a long sigh.

"Draka, what are you doing?" Jay, who was clearly busy doing some marshal duty or another as he chatted to several soldiers in the corridor, looked over at Draka with a confused expression. Draka stopped walking, turning his head to look at Jay.

"I'm not sure," Draka confessed, "but I'd like to try a different approach to something that hasn't seemed to work thus far," he said cryptically. He understood that if Jay were to actually ask him to explain he would be obligated to, but the man seemed to respect his privacy and dipped his head, continuing on his way and allowing Draka to do the same.

Eventually, the boy wound up at Nyais' apartment, pushing open the door and making his way down the short corridor to the basement.

"Wake up," he said dully, placing the teapot, cups and saucers down and walking over to Nyais, untying one of his arms (though his body was still tied to the chair). Nyais came back to consciousness as Draka untied his left wrist, reeling back in confusion before spluttering, his body aching from the neglect it had received over the past week. Draka was clearly not sympathetic, but he also wasn't happy about the whole thing. He had a lot more respect for Nyais than any of the other boys, despite still hating his guts. He knew that Nyais could kill them easily if he so pleased, but he never did. That makes him better than them, does it not? Well, he didn't really know everything, and he didn't care to either. He had one simple question he needed answering today, and Nyais was the only one he knew who could help them right now, as much as he hated to admit it.

Draka poured the rosewater into both teacups, carefully passing one of them over to a rather sceptical looking Nyais. Draka took the first sip.

"It's not poisoned," he said, and Nyais nodded, though still didn't make a move to drink. He looked down at the rosewater, thoughtful.

"Draka," Nyais sighed, "what do you want?" Draka's red eyes pierced into Nyais for a moment, his gaze unwavering, before he looked away and took another sip of his rosewater. Nyais watched him for a moment, lowering his head. "[Y/n]," he said quietly, "is... is she—"

"She's fine," Draka growled out, impatience flowing through his words, though not at Nyais, nor at [Y/n]. It was the others that were the source of his irritation. Seishin... he'd show Seishin just how much he underestimated him. Mitzu would stop laughing, and Kori would stop giving him disparaging looks. Laion wouldn't pity him and Aytsa wouldn't use him as a punchline anymore. They'd all see.

"You're angry," Nyais observed, watching Draka's knuckles turn white against the teacup handle. "I don't think that's proper drinking etiquette," Nyais mocked. Draka's grip got suddenly tenser still; the teacup handle shattered in his grip, and Draka had to dart to catch the falling cup before it, too, could smash. Now with no handle, Draka simply cupped the piece of ceramic in his hands, letting out a sigh.

"Don't mock me," Draka muttered, a long pause following his words. Nyais watched him, waiting for the reason he was here to drop. And it would. "I want you to tell me..." he tailed off, placing the cup down and watching as Nyais eyed his movements like a hawk. "I may hate you, but I know you're much stronger than us... you went from nothing to the top, so tell me..." he got quieter once again, before drawing in a deep breath. He knew his next words could get him killed if heard by the wrong ears, but he had to ask anyway.

"How do I kill the king?"

Nyais placed his cup on the arm of the chair he was tied to, an amused smile slowly making its way onto his face. He couldn't help but allow a small chuckle to escape him, his violet eyes the brightest they had been for a while. He then leant his head on the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling.

"You want my advice on how to kill my friend?" Nyais questioned, his gaze still fixed on the cracked ceiling above him. "And your 'threat' seems to be taking this cup of rosewater away," he hummed, picking up the cup again, still staring at the ceiling. He lazily dropped it, allowing it to smash on the floor, the rosewater splattering across the cement flooring, quickly being soaked up by it.

"No, I don't have a threat," Draka murmured, walking closer to pick up the individual pieces of ceramic. "But I do know of your hatred towards the man you call your friend," Draka said calmly, placing each individual piece carefully on one of the saucers. Now, Nyais seemed interested. His head leaned forwards slightly, his eyes glaring down at the boy who knelt on the floor, picking up the mess he had made.

"What makes you say that?" Nyais questioned.

"I know about your wife," Draka said, the same song-like calmness to his voice, "and about her relationship with Rayne. I know that you'd tried to kill Rayne, but Olli had stopped you," Draka continued, "but because he stopped you, you were left with the Rayne we have today, and a terrible stain on your reputation. People suddenly feared you more than they feared King Olli, all because he stopped you killing Rayne. Am I correct?"

"Even if you are, it doesn't change a thing." Draka furrowed his brow. "You say you want my help to know how to kill the king, and you say that you think I might help you because of my hatred towards Olli. You admit that I'm much stronger than you, but you want to find a weakness." Nyais leaned forwards so his upper body and head loomed over the kneeling boy, a frown on his face. "I can't give you a weakness." Draka looked up at him; even tied up, Nyais had an element of terror to him — maybe it was the way his pupils constricted and his eyes grew wide, or maybe it was the way his breathing stayed perfectly neutral at all times. Draka couldn't place it. "I can't give you a weakness because I never found one. And if I had, the king you'd have to worry about would be me," Nyais said darkly.

Draka shuffled back a little, having placed all the ceramic pieces on the saucer. He didn't like being loomed over like that. It made him angry - it made him think of Seishin, and that made him want to strangle someone. He couldn't kill Nyais right now as he was essential. Plus, he'd never hear the end of it from the others.

"You'll return to being King Regent when— if— you leave here," Draka said quietly. "Mira's currently filling in for you as regent, but I'm sure - if she were to become queen - challenging her would be a breeze," Draka said darkly. "I find it funny that Olli hasn't sent anyone to search for you yet. Maybe that's just how we are as a species - kill or be killed - but don't we have a sense of kinship with our friends at least?" Draka picked up his teacup, careful to avoid the shattered ceramic, taking another sip of his rosewater.

"Olli is likely as fond of me as I am of him," Nyais said simply. "It's all politics."

"Nyais, I'll make you a deal," Draka said suddenly. Nyais, who now kinda wished he hadn't ditched his rosewater, raised a brow. There was no deal Draka could make that could get him to agree, but still... he gestured with his free hand, encouraging Draka to continue.

"I know you were a strategist, and there are six of us. Six of us, one of him. I know it's possible, I just don't know how..." he paused, his eyes narrowing. "Help us. Tell us how to kill the king. Tell us and we'll free you... I don't care what the consequences of that are for us. And I know we can't beat him in a challenge, so I know you'll become king afterwards, but please..."

"You want to know how to kill King Olli so you can have [Y/n] back," Nyais muttered, "but in making me king, you'll lose her anyway." He narrowed his eyes. Draka was risking everything, including his life. Part of him admired that. Part of him despised it. He sighed, beckoning with his free hand for Draka to pass him the other cup of rosewater. Draka finished the rest of his, pouring another and passing it to Nyais.

Taking a long sip of the pointless beverage and downing it in one, Nyais shut his eyes.

"Pour me another," he muttered, "we'll be here for some time. And listen carefully. I don't like to repeat myself."

* * *

It was so busy. Everyone was bumbling about, trying to avoid one another but still crashing into each other, despite their best efforts. "Tara! Tara, stop, you can't do this!" Damien called out frantically, causing the airport staff to throw him a worried look as they spoke to one another in hushed voices, clearly discussing whether the pair should be stopped. Damien ignored them, continuing to run after the retreating brunette. The girl suddenly disappeared in the crowd, causing the boy to let out a pained huff of frustration. He waded through people, finally seeing that familiar cropped brown hairstyle, placing his hand on the girl's shoulder.

An older woman turned around to face him with a shocked expression.

"Ah, shit! I'm so sorry," Damien said hurriedly, letting go of her at once, backing away before running off into the crowd again. It took a while to shake the woman's disdainful glare, but at last he found Tara - the actual Tara - sitting on one of the departure chairs.

"You went all the way through security to stop me? I'm here. I'm not going back," Tara muttered as Damien took the seat next to her. Damien bit his lip, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say. His fists were clenched, but Tara wouldn't even spare him a glance. Her mind was made up and she wasn't going to change it. She'd find [Y/n], dead or alive, and bring her back - she'd gotten so much stronger, so much fitter. Nothing would stop her. Not even—

"You know I said they took my mother back?" Damien said quietly, interrupting Tara's thoughts. Tara finally looked over at him. "I lied. I didn't want to say the truth, b-because..." he hung his head, "it's... they..."

Tara's eyes suddenly softened. At once, she understood why Damien had been so scared for her to leave.

"They killed her, Tara," Damien muttered. "They killed her before my very eyes. They split open her skull, tore off her skin, and made me watch as she healed herself over and over again... they made me watch them destroy her over and over, and all the while I was too weak to do much as throw a penny at them. They're faster than planes, stronger than tanks and smarter than the smartest people you've ever heard of. You'll die within seconds. And, what if [Y/n] is somehow still alive? What if she's in the process of escape and we ruin her hard work? What if they use us against her?" Tara narrowed her eyes. Neither of them had noticed the third presence, standing just in front of them. Not until she kneeled down on the linoleum floor in front of them did they recognise the platinum blonde locks and baby blue eyes of their other friend, Sally.

"Why... are you two here?" Sally asked quietly. She hadn't heard much of the conversation, but what she had heard was... disturbing, to say the least.

Damien and Tara's gazes snapped up to her instantly, both suddenly seeming apologetic. Tara cleared her throat, looking down.

"Um... I- I could ask the same of you," Tara stuttered. Sally looked over her shoulder at her parents, both in full business attire, staring at her impatiently. Sally herself was wearing a brown cashmere pencil skirt, suit and cream silk blouse.

"Father has to meet a client," Sally said quietly, "apparently they're big on family, so requested for mother and I to join. Where are you two going?" she asked.

"Sofia airport, Bulgaria," Tara answered quickly. Damien's eyes widened. Had she still not been swayed? It seemed Sally was equally surprised, though for a different reason.

"Sofia?" she said, surprised. "We're on the same flight then, I assume," she hummed, looking over at the departure board. Damien shuddered. No way was he going to get Tara to stop now. Damien looked at Sally apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey, Sally, could you give the two of us a moment please?" he questioned. Sally nodded. "Your parents okay with waiting?" he pressed. She nodded again.

"Of course! I'll go talk to them now. Come join us when you're ready," Sally smiled, despite knowing something was very off. She hurried along to her parents and Tara cleared her throat.

"You can't expect me to stay here now, can you?" Tara questioned, her eyes narrowed. Damien looked away.

"Please don't go to Kutelo," he whispered. Tara looked down.

"Yeah, yeah, I know... I won't. But I'm gonna stay with Sally. What if she had the same idea?" Damien knew that was just an excuse - Tara was the only one who knew about Kutelo other than him anyway - but he couldn't help but feel a need to keep an eye on Sally, just in case they targeted her for some reason, whoever they was. "You still got the flight ticket I gave you the other day?" she questioned. Damien nodded, pulling out his phone and opening it up.

"I guess we're going to Bulgaria, then," Damien sighed, looking over at Sally.

"I guess we are," Tara affirmed.