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"By Maegira, what is wrong with that collection of utter and complete fools?" Loud footsteps echoed down the empty hallway of the main Castle of Sol Solis. He had just come from the meeting of the Council, that sanctimonious group of wastes of space, where he had told them of what was going on. And what had happened? Those monstrous idiots instantly refused to supply an expedition to go after Rafale's stasis chamber to destroy it, not even accepting the fact that he was the cause behind the Great War that had so wrecked Saegaerath!

But to make matters worse for the Lightmaster, the Council, led by the Chancellor, had taken that denial a step further. They reversed it - they wanted the stasis chamber found... in order to wake Rafale from his millenia of slumber, and try to convince him to join their forces. That had been the point where Tabarias had stood up and bluntly walked out of the chamber while declaring the meeting over, for he knew his temper, albeit rare, was nearing a boiling point when he had heard that. There was no way Rafale would consider joining Sol Solis, the city stood for everything he hated! Sol Solis was the city of God-worshippers and the holy, the devout. A nation, a way of life, that Rafale had dedicated himself to exterminating, only to be stopped by something no one knew of.

Tabarias clutched Masamune's hilt tightly in one hand as he strode through the corridors of the Castle. He refused to allow Rafale to retun, that was something that had never changed. He had given up so much in pursuit of that. His best friend of over eight years, dead by his own hand... years of pain and agony as he and the Alchemist experimented on him in order to make him what he was now... His hand tightened around Masamune's hilt so much that the bindings on the grip creaked in protest of the abuse, a sure sign of his tension and anger boiling up.

The former Shadowmaster paused as he neared the outer chamber of the entrance to the Castle, his mind clarifying on the path he would have to take now. There would be no support coming from the Council, of that he was certain. He was less certain, but did fear, that if the Council knew he was going after it himself, they would put all of their considerable resources into finding the chamber first, and reviving the Fell Shadowmaster. So he would have to leave immediately, before they had time to come to any decisions about what they would do. Only one thing kept him from leaving straight to the gates from where he was now.

The redheaded girl, Sairaith. She held vital knowledge to what was going on, and apparently felt like he did, that Rafale must never be brought back to life. But if the Council could get to her, they had ways of torturing information out of people, despite this being the Holy Nation. There was no way he could allow that fate to befall the Gunslinger, and besides, he had made a promise to her that he would take her along. The overly tall lightmaster angled his feet and let them carry him back towards the hospital, to where Sai was hopefully recovering.