[color=goldenrod][u][h2]Aliseth[/h2][/u][/COLOR][hr][COLOR=#C0C0C0]Prison - external[/COLOR]
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Despite the recent applications of oil, Aliseth’s pristinely kept royal guard armor still clinked and scraped, hissing at him with every step. The status and security it provided-the sense of near invincibility from its layered leather and metal-did little to balance out the discomfort.
Unlike most, who would sleep in theirs if allowed, Aliseth had recently taken to wearing it only when absolutely necessary.

This was one of those occasions.
Not for its protective function, but purely for its aesthetic and symbolic value. He was little more than a display of Lunarian might.

Rumor had circled of a renowned Aurelian metallurgist-enchanter visiting this forsaken arse end of the earth. Aliseth had vowed to see what that man could do about his cumbersome attire, Stuck up sun lover or not.
Of course, there were always other means of ridding himself of it—means that edged closer to reality with every degrading duty, such as today's glorified babysitting. He had given up too much to be belittled like this.

Putting the armor on had taken longer than the walk to the prison and had required aid from his new fox-sitting assistant. The lonely odd guard was highly susceptible to orders and rarely asked questions, qualities Aliseth found both incredibly useful.
Still, all complaints about the armor and that strange man vanished from his mind the moment he saw them.

Four Aurelian Royal Guards stood outside his destination, still as sentinel statues. Four of them!
The sight filled him with unexpected dread. [i]'Who could be inside to warrant such a presence?'[/i]
His eyes narrowed as he looked again. A lone Lunarian guard stood among them, amongst the opposing pillars of steel and iron, conversing with—

                - The princess.

Aliseth’s sure stride faltered. He almost stumbled, the surprise hitting him like a blow to the gut.
      [i]'What? Here. Why?'[/i]
He didn’t have time to understand. He walked on, chin lifted, shoulders squared. Confidence worn like his second skin. His true armor.

The last time he had seen her, it was the back of her head disappearing into the darkness as she fled.
His gaze instinctively scanned the gathering again. No sign of Elara. The thought flitted through his mind, already dissolving as the Aurelian guards turned, all eyes locking onto him.

One stepped forward, chin raised in silent command to halt.
Even the falling snow seemed to obey, pausing with him, giving way to a heavy, notable silence.
Even without his psychic magic, Aliseth could feel it—hostility radiating from the Aurelian’s fiery gaze. Even if hidden in his gaze alone.

It was not surprising, not compared to finding the princess here. Only the most faithful and devout were chosen as royal guards. That meant they had spent their entire lives being told who the true enemy of their ward was.
And no matter recent orders, shifting alliances, or even iron discipline, that hatred and training was hard to forget.