As there was no one else in the castle but Throm, Ayva, Quinn, and Robin, nobody knew how such a large dose had ended up inside the castle. If Robin's condition were known, then the dwarves themselves might cast shadows upon the monarchs, spreading rumors of foul play. Thus, Throm did the only thing he could do. Early the next morning, he invited Robin's company to enter the castle.
"What do you mean, he can't wake up!?" Christian exclaimed. "What did you do to him!?"
Quinn placed a hand on Christian's shoulder, and restrained him. "Listen. There are not many places in this castle that have magic eyes within them. But Ayva's garden is the one place that is under watch 24/7. If Klargun's brew is not consumed within 24 hours of it leaving its preservative vial, the properties become ineffective. Do you understand?"
Quinn looked Christian in the eyes until he was certain the prince wouldn't do something rash. "Now, I just finished going through the entire recording from start to finish. Not even a fly so much as flew into that space, much less a dwarf. And that flagon had been sitting there for over a week. I am as much baffled at this as you are. If you don't trust me, you can have Keith or Jasmine look it over."
"This is as much a concern to you as it is to me. For someone to be able to slip Klargun's brew into my castle is unthinkable, and highly alarming." Throm finally spoke. "I am being open with you because. Reluctantly, I find that even my own people seem to be unreliable. Before Robin fell asleep, he told us of the dangers of the man you call Trader. Until I can be assured none of my people are under his control, my hands are tied. I truly need your help."
Christian was silent, a bitter expression on his face. Finally, he looked up. "How long will he sleep?" He asked Quinn.
"It depends upon how much Robin consumed." Quinn replied. "If we're lucky, it'll only be a week. If not, then it might be several months, or even half a year."
"Is there no antidote?"
"No. For Klargun's Brew, the only antidote that exists is time."
"I want to see him." Christian said. It was not a request.
"This way." Quinn sighed. Throm, understanding their feelings, allowed them to go see Robin. The answer to his request could wait until later.
Robin's room was the closest to the throne room. Ayva was already there, waiting by the bedside. The dark circles under her eyes, red eyes, and traces of tears down her face told the whole story.
"Ah..Yer here." She said, looking up.
Christian didn't see Ayva. He walked over to the bedside, eyes only on Robin. Robin's eyes were closed. The slow rising and falling of her hands above the covers showed that Robin was breathing. Not a single hair was out of place.
'Robin...once again, it seems you're not able to move.' Christian clenched his hand. 'We let our guard down. One of us should have gone with you. Or, at the very least, you should have taken your sword along! But now, you...'
He stood there a long time, and everyone else respectively kept silent. Even when Chelsea performed a magic checkup on Robin, they remained silent. Finally, he turned to Ayva with a blank face.
"Why are you still awake?"
Ayva sighed. "Ah'm wearing an anti-poison protective gem. Ah hafta keep wearing et, or I'll also be asleep like her."
"Can't we get another one made for Robin?" Christian asked.
Jasmine shook her head. "The most Ayva's gem can do is to segregate the poison until it passes out of the system. Robin's poison has already affected Robin, merging into the bloodstream. Not even the Slime Kings can separate it out at this point."
"Can't they at least try and get as much unassimilated poison out as possible?" Christian asked.
"That was the first thing I had Bobble do." Quinn stated. "Now Bobble is also asleep because he allowed it to affect to his core."
"Then, we'll do what we can. At the very least, we can try and find the culprit before Robin wakes up." Christian replied, turning around.
"How are you so calm about this?" Chelsea asked. Christian paused. But ignored Chelsea's question as he stepped out of the room. Keith excused himself, and followed behind, just in time to see Christian lean up against a stone wall, and slam his clenched fist into it. Christian heard approaching footsteps.
"Keith?" He asked.
"I am here." Keith replied, stopping three feet away from Christian. Keith didn't need to say much more. He simply waited.
"...You know....she's wrong...I'm not really calm at all about this." Christian finally said.
"I know."
"I have actually never been more angry in my entire life. I want to find the person responsible and tear him to pieces, if I can." Christian growled as he turned his back to the wall, and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor, despondent.
"This entire mess is all my idiotic fault. This spot, right here, is for the stupidest fool loser in history."
Keith thought for a moment, then joined him on the ground, groaning a bit as he sat down beside the prince. After settling himself down comfortable enough, he looked at the floor with Christian as well.
"What are you doing?" Christian finally asked.
"Well, you said this spot was for the stupidest fool in history. And...after thinking about it, I figured my place is here as well." Keith said as a matter of fact.
"You? You learned perfect sword form in a year. You became a general; AND you retired with one of the greatest honors of mankind. You've managed to help me keep my head on my shoulders, I don't recall how many times. What part of that story makes you a fool loser?" Christian asked bitterly.
Keith glanced over at Christian. "I never did tell you exactly where I was from, did I?" he mused, glancing to his left at the light coming from the hall of colorful glowing crystals.
"In that case, let this fool loser inform you of just how much of a loser he is." Keith barked a bitter laugh.
"Though I can't quite tell how accurately the records are, the people in my village claimed they were descended from the lineage of Ekkinshire's founding king. Naturally, they told us stories, and encouraged us to grow big and strong." Kevin sneered.
"And I was the biggest and strongest lad in the entire village. Everyone expected me to become to person who would be the great hero leading everyone to victory. I was the one they expected to pull the sword out of the stone."
"You? Well, what happened?" Christian asked.
"Someone else picked it up first. We were at war, at the time. I was just a lad of twelve years old when I ran off to try my hand at it, but the lad just in front of me pulled it out like a knife cutting through butter."
"Ouch."
"Indeed. I was furious at the time." Kevin chuckled. "I was not convinced that I was any less of a hero than that boy in front of me. So I was determined to prove it. I would prove on the battlefield that I was a better hero than he could ever be."
"Well, what happened?" Christian asked.
"I became the General. Not the Hero, just the General. And then the war ended. When we returned, I asked the Hero a favor, to return the sword into the stone so that I could try my hand...but...." Keith sighed.
"It wouldn't budge. Can you imagine that? All my life, I thought I was meant to be the hero, and that just hit the nail in the coffin. They were all mistaken, and I was never meant to be one in the first place. So, I did what I thought was for the best. I retired. And the Hero went home."
"Wait, didn't the hero die in battle against the previous demon lord?" Christian asked.
"He disappeared right in front of my face, lad. How else do you think the sword returned to the stone? You think a deity magicked it over?" Keith chuckled.
"Yes...He went home, as did I..."