Eight days after the blood moon brought a gathering that was destined to go down in history, to become the foundation of the legend that would grow from these turbulent times. A day both longed for and dreaded by the major players in the events that would unfold in Phalion. The main square of the city was filled to overflowing with people, all turned out to witness the eclipse with their prince, the rebel commander, and the visiting lords. Selected members of the rebel army were there as well, ostensibly to keep the peace, though only those in high command knew that they, too, would have to witness what was about to happen.

On the steps of the citadel stood Adare, pale but resolute, flanked on each side by his guests - by Liam O'Connor and Shaye Dervla, by Rory and Dalan, by Conall and Liayna, by the high priest of the Nine, and by the four neighboring lords who had accepted his invitation to witness the eclipse with him today. Every eye was turned to the sky, waiting impatiently for the moons to cross the sun's path. Every eye but that of the prince, who stared instead into the eyes of his dead twin, both of them waiting for the moment they knew was coming.

Of all those in attendance, there were a certain privileged few who knew what was going to happen here today and who had prepared for it. Those few were not just here to witness the eclipse, but to witness the change that was about to take place right before their very eyes and before all those who were gathered there. After sixteen long years, in a matter of a few short minutes, everything everyone believed about the prince was about to change, and those who stood near Adare were not only there to witness, but to protect him when the truth at last became clear. Only Rory was there for a different reason, in part to protect Adare, but also because he was not only the prince's squire, but also his closest friend. While every eye turned to the sky, Rory's eyes were fixed on Adare in anticipation of the change that was about to take place, anxious and excited and a little bit fearful of the outcome.

Slowly, gradually, the sky began to darken as the two moons cut off the light of the sun. The blazing light of the noon day became as dim as twilight, prayers raised to the gods from all corners of the square in answer. It was only supposed to last a few minutes, but as the darkness lingered on, fears began to spread among the gathered people, terrified that the Nine were preparing to punish them for their devotion to their prince. Their prince, who stood trembling before them, staring into ghostly eyes only he could see. And suddenly a shaft of sunlight burst impossibly from the heart of the eclipse, seeming to pass through the two concealing moons, to illuminate Adare where he stood, surrounding him with a golden nimbus. All eyes snapped to the citadel steps, to the prince himself, as he let out a shuddering breath.

"It is time," his ghostly brother whispered, tracing a finger down to his own chest, where the crescent scar had begun to weep blood. In the same instant, Adare felt the sharp stab of pain from the scar in his own chest, letting out a quiet grunt of pain.

"Rory ..." he managed, his hands falling to unbuckle his belt. "Help me. Help me get these off."

Rory and Adare had talked about some of this already with Kari and though Rory had known some of what to expect, it still took him by surprise, eyes widening in awe as that shaft of sunlight seemed to surround Adare in an almost divine golden glow. It was only Adare's voice that snapped him out of his daze, remembering what needed to be done. The time was short, and if they faltered, Adare might be trapped in a boy's body forever. "Adare," he whispered, as he stepped forward to help his friend. "It's really happening."

There was a certain amount of irony in his friend's expression as he answered, even through the pain that was stabbing through his chest. "I know," he drawled quietly, grateful for the help as between them, he and Rory removed every last stitch he was wearing. He felt a horrible flush of embarrassment, standing there naked in the full light of the Gods, before his people, the rebel army, feeling further gratitude for the way Liam's people kept the peace, the way those who stood behind him on the steps kept the priests and lords from interfering.

The small private guard of Liam, Shaye, Conall, Liayna, and Dalan stood nearby, ready to protect the prince and his squire if anyone dared interfere. Rory found his hands were shaking as he helped Adare with his clothing, wishing that it was not necessary for the prince to subject himself to this, but knowing it was necessary for people to witness, to learn the truth, to see it with their own eyes, and to know it wasn't a trick. "I'm here, Adare. I'm right here," he reminded the prince, searching his gaze, not knowing he was seeing someone no one else could see, wanting to protect him and help him any way he could.

The young prince nodded, breathing hard through the stabbing pains emanating from that little scar in his chest. "Get the knife ready," he told his dearest friend, the only person he could trust to help him with this awful task. Turning, he felt the ghost of his brother step into the light with him, and for the first time, he felt that brother take his hand. Outside that golden nimbus, he could hear the sound of shock and fear as the people watching saw two boys, identical in every way, standing side by side, where before there had only been one. And Adare knew he couldn't just forge ahead without trying to make them understand what they were seeing.

"People of Phalion," he began, raising his voice despite the pain that was intensifying with every breath. "My lords ....You all know me. You knew and loved my parents. Velasca took my parents from me on the night I was born, but she took someone else, as well. She took my twin brother, born only minutes after I was. And because of her treachery, my parents made use of old magic to hide me until this day. This is my brother, dead before his first breath, and I am his sister. I call upon you all to witness my true face for the first time."

He let out a low groan of pain, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment, his free hand gesturing to Rory. "Now, do it now. I can't ....hurts ..."

Rory stood aghast, his face as pale as Adare's as the prince - no, princess - tried to explain to those gathered in witness what had happened and what was about to happen there before them. Rory swallowed hard, taking a deep breath to gather his courage as he drew a knife from his belt, amidst a collective gasp from the crowd who he knew might misunderstand and think he was about to cause the prince harm. "Forgive me, Adare," he told the prince quietly, forcing his hand not to shake as he lifted the blade to the place where the scar marked the prince's skin. It only required a small cut, almost identical to the cut that had been made when the prince had been only a baby.

In clear view of everyone gathered there to witness, the prince they had known all his life - the prince who claimed himself to be a princess - raised his own hands to guide the blade as his squire made that tiny cut. It was that small action that kept arrows in their sheaths, knives on their belts. Whatever was happening, their young lord was directing it.

He couldn't have known what she was going through at that moment, and yet, he felt the trembling in her limbs, saw the paleness in her cheeks, and knew the change had affected her in ways he couldn't imagine. Moving to his feet, he slid an arm around her waist to hold her steady, hoping no one would protest or interfere, glancing to Dalan with undisguised concern on his face, as if to wordlessly tell him that the show was over. The princess had been through enough for one day; she needed to rest.

"I won't. I'm here," he assured her, as he drew her aside, one arm around her waist.

Dalan met Rory's gaze and nodded, moving aside to clear the way for them into the citadel and out of the public eye. His glance toward Liam clearly stated that it was the rebel commander's responsibility to calm the crowd and clarify for them what had just happened, to set in motion the legalities of having the high priest confirm what he had seen in missives to be sent to all temples across the land. For now, at least, Dalan would not be far from his princess' side, watching over her even as he marveled at her astonishing likeness to the mother she had lost so long ago.

Liam wasted no time taking over crowd control. There had been a time when he'd been terrified of such things, but over the course of the last sixteen years, he'd become a man, and he'd grown into the role of a leader. Though he might think nothing of what he'd done, he'd made a name for himself and people looked up to him. If there was anyone who could instill loyalty in a crowd of people, it was Liam.

As the First Blade stepped up to aid the Commander with this task, Liayna drew Conall into the citadel behind Rory and Ariana, taking their place as bodyguards of a sort. Ariana herself was growing weaker by the moment as she forced her sluggish limbs to bear her, waiting until she knew they were out of sight of the joyous crowd before allowing herself to sag against Rory. It was humiliating to admit, but she really couldn't walk another step. "I can't carry myself," she whispered to him, trying to ignore the joy on the faces of the servants who were watching them. "I just need to sleep, that's all."

As for Rory, he waited until they were out of sight of the crowd before sweeping the princess off her feet and into his arms. It wasn't the first time he'd done so, and somehow she felt even lighter now than she had when she'd been wearing a boy's body. "It's all right," Rory told the servants and others who were still lingering. "She just needs to rest for a while. Dalan, can you lead us to the princess' quarters?"

"Of course she needs to rest," the weaponsmaster said, loud enough for enough of the servants to hear and pass on. "The Gods just stripped away a disguise she's been wearing for sixteen years. I feel the need to rest, and I was just watching!" The comedy in the way he announced this was just what was needed, sending a ripple of relieved, nervous laughter through those who had come with them from the citadel steps. "You know where her chamber is, Rory. Mila will no doubt be pacing the floor, anxious for a first look at our rightful queen." He didn't say it, but his eyes flickered toward the visiting lords, who looked by turns impressed, bewildered, and shocked. Someone had to see to them, as well.

What Rory had wanted was someone to clear a path and it seemed that with just a few careful words, Dalan had done that. Rory was anxious to take Ariana to her quarters, where she could rest in private without the prying eyes of the lords and priests and servants looking on. "Very well," he replied, understanding that Dalan wanted them to go on without him while he dealt with matters of politics. "I will see that she gets there safely." And with a polite nod to the visiting lords, he went off in the direction of the quarters that up until now, he had been sharing with Adare.

Despite the fact that Ariana was close to unconscious, Dalan dropped to his knee and bowed his head as Rory took her from the entryway, rising to deal with the shocked lords as best he could while Conall and Liayna followed the young squire and his precious cargo up the stairs.

Held close against Rory, Ariana stirred just a little, forcing herself to blink her eyes open as she looked up at him. "I love you," she whispered, finally able to tell him how she felt without that sense of oddness clinging to the emotion. Her head drooped onto his shoulder once again. "I just wanted you to know."

Rory's attention was so wrapped up in Ariana that he almost forgot they had an escort, taking on the responsibility for her safety upon himself, as he deemed was not only his duty but his desire. His gaze darted to her face a moment as her eyes fluttered open and she whispered words he had been longing to hear her say, feelings that he had already shared in the clearing where her grandmother had revealed the truth to them both. He smiled down at her, his heart swelling with emotion to hear her say it at last. "I know, lea. I love you, too," he whispered back, choosing to call her by the old word for beloved, a word he'd heard used by others, but had never dared use himself.

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his shoulder, but there was no more opportunity for words between them as the door ahead was opened. Mila's joy in finally seeing her precious princess revealed to the world was utterly unbridled, shameless as she exclaimed over Ariana and Rory. As the woman worked to get the princess into a night-shift and settled into the bed, she demanded a blow-by-blow account of everything that had happened from Rory, drinking in every detail he could give her. And when, at last, she was done, Ariana smiled, rolling onto her side, and reached out, capturing Rory's hand and refusing to let go. Today, of all days, he wasn't going anywhere.

Conall and Liayna remained outside in the hallway to guard the princess' chambers and ensure privacy while Rory and Mila took charge of the exhausted princess. Whatever the pair thought of the events that had just taken place was just between them, for now. They had news of their own that had not yet been shared, but would be eventually, when the time was right.