"Why does he look so red in the face?" Ozair said, staring at the illustration. "Is he blushing?"
Aryan said, slowly, pressing each word: "That does not matter right now."
Haqi looked down at the news sheet, then slowly raised his eyes to the group. The surprise on his face had faded into something far more serious.
"If this really is the friend you've been searching for all day," he said carefully, "then he's in a very dangerous situation. They've named him as one of the people responsible for kidnapping the princess of the Ralinder Kingdom."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'll be honest, I didn't expect your friend to be involved in something like this."
All five of them spoke at once.
"He's not a criminal."
Haqi raised both hands calmly. "Easy now," he said. "I didn't say he was. I said he's been named."
He held the news sheet out again and looked at them steadily.
"But here's the truth," he continued. "It doesn't matter anymore whether the accusation is true or false. He's in the Garrison now, and that place operates by its own rules. What matters there isn't what actually happened. It's what they believe happened."
He folded the sheet once and set it down on the counter.
"And with a charge like this, the Six Heirs will get involved," he said quietly. "So you'd better pray that whoever takes his case starts with questions before anything else."
Elina frowned slightly. "The Six Heirs. Someone mentioned them earlier today too." She looked at Haqi. "Who are they? Are they cruel or something?"
Haqi leaned back against the counter, choosing his words carefully.
"They're not cruel people," he said. "The Heirs are actually known for being fair, and some of them are even respected for their kindness. Their commander especially, the X-Marshal, has a reputation for doing things the right way."
He paused for a moment, his expression darkening slightly.
"But this involves the princess, the only daughter of King Edris. And when it comes to her, the right way and the fast way usually become the same thing."
Aryan frowned. "You still haven't actually said who they are."
Haqi nodded slowly. "The King's right-hand minister first identified six individuals and placed them as protectors of the royal family. Then the King himself raised them even higher. He made a public announcement to the entire kingdom."
Haqi's voice lowered slightly as he continued. "He said each of his Heirs had been chosen to uphold the legacy of Ralinder."
He let the words hang in the air for a moment.
"Six people, personally elevated by the King himself. Since they took their positions, the crime rate in Kabul has dropped dramatically. They reorganized the entire Guard Station system and tripled security across the city."
Haqi glanced toward the window, his expression distant. "I saw them fight a gang once. Just once." He shook his head faintly. "They were unbelievably strong."
Yami, who had been listening quietly the whole time, suddenly straightened. "One day," he said, "I'm going to be stronger than all of them. Even the X-Marshal."
A small smile appeared on Haqi's face as he looked at his son. "I don't doubt that."
Yami didn't look away. "I mean it."
"I know you do," Haqi said softly.
While the conversation continued, Toviro, Aryan, Elina, and Mina had all gone quiet, the kind of silence that comes when a situation keeps growing heavier the more you think about it.
Aryan stood with his arms crossed, staring down at the floor as he tried to process everything.
Toviro rested near the window with his staff in hand, looking outside without really seeing anything.
Elina sat with her hands clasped tightly together, her thoughts clearly somewhere far away, somewhere closer to Mayo than to the room around her.
Then came a sound.
Mina's legs gave out.
Not dramatically, just a sudden loss of strength in her knees. She sank to the floor and covered her face with both hands. The sound that escaped her was quiet, controlled, and somehow more heartbreaking because of it.
"My son..." she whispered.
Elina moved before anyone else could react. She dropped beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her steady.
"Please don't lose hope, auntie," Elina said softly. "He's still out there."
Mina's shoulders trembled slightly. "But what if they hurt him?" she whispered. "What if they do something to my son?"
For a second, nobody answered.
Then Aryan stepped forward and lowered himself onto one knee in front of her. The movement was slow, deliberate. He looked up at Mina, and for once there was no sharpness in his eyes, only steady certainty.
"Did you really forget who he's with?" Aryan asked quietly, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "That idiot's one of us."
Mina looked up at him through tearful eyes.
Aryan rested an arm on his knee and held her gaze steadily. "Listen to me carefully, auntie. Nothing's going to happen to him while we're breathing."
There was no arrogance in his voice, only certainty.
"And if someone thinks they can hurt him," he continued, calmer now, "then they'll learn the hard way that he doesn't stand alone."
Behind him, Toviro and Ozair moved closer, both wearing small smiles. Aryan had spoken first, but the words belonged to all of them.
"He's not just your son," Aryan said. "He's our brother too."
Mina looked at the three of them standing there for her son without hesitation, and fresh tears filled her eyes.
Haqi stepped closer, his eyes damp with grief he could no longer hide. He looked at Mina quietly. "Yami," he said softly, "bring her some water."
Yami went without a word.
The room fell silent again, heavy with fear and exhaustion.
Then Toviro turned toward the window, his grip tightening slightly around his staff before he looked back at all of them.
"We're going to get him back," he said. The words landed with absolute certainty. "But before we move," he continued, calm and steady, "we need to understand what we're walking into."
—
Below the city, deep inside the Garrison, Mayo's head was forced beneath the water again.
The bucket was large and filled nearly to the top, the water cold enough to make Mayo's whole body tense. Behind him stood a man dressed entirely in white, one hand gripping the back of Mayo's head. Even his boots were white, making him stand out in the dim torchlight.
After several long seconds, Mayo was finally pulled back up.
He gasped hard, coughing water onto the stone floor while trying desperately to breathe.
His wet hair clung to his forehead, and the chains around his wrists pulled tight behind his back every time he moved.
In front of him stood a broad-shouldered man in silver and red armor, the metal polished enough to catch the torchlight in sharp flashes. His posture was rigid, his expression unreadable, but his eyes stayed fixed on Mayo with the focus of someone trying to separate truth from lies.
Beside him stood another man dressed entirely in white, taller and calmer than the one holding Mayo down. Even his boots matched the rest of the uniform. Unlike the armored man, there was hesitation in his face. He watched with the expression of someone who disliked what was happening, yet believed it had to be done.
The man behind Mayo tightened his grip.
"Where is the princess?" he shouted. "Where did your people take her?"
Mayo struggled to catch his breath. "I already told you," he said weakly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He coughed again before forcing the next words out. "I'm not a kidnapper. I don't even know what a Glimmer is. I got here last night. I was just walking through a forest."
The man behind him scowled. "You bastard. Those tricks won't work on me."
Then he shoved Mayo's head back into the water.
Mayo jerked against the chains immediately, his body twisting as he fought for air that wasn't there. Bubbles rushed to the surface while his shoulders strained against the restraints.
Across from them, behind the bars of another cell, the other prisoner watched quietly.
At first, the armored man barely paid attention to him. But then he noticed something strange.
The prisoner was smiling.
Not openly, just the faintest movement at the corner of his mouth, like someone watching events unfold exactly the way he expected.
The armored man frowned and studied him more carefully. Something about it felt deeply wrong.
A man accused of kidnapping the princess should not have looked this calm while his supposed ally was being tortured only a few feet away.
For a brief moment, the two men held each other's gaze through the bars.
Then the smile vanished. The prisoner's face went empty again, as though it had never existed at all.
Mayo was dragged back out of the water, choking violently as air tore back into his lungs. He barely noticed anything around him anymore.
Across the cell, darkness covered most of the prisoner's face. Only the faint curve of his smile appeared now and then whenever the torchlight flickered across the bars.
A faint laugh escaped him.
He's burning in the fire I lit.