Without neither Lanstein nor his sister around to initiate any conversation, Denton had his dear issues even imagining speaking up to the lovely looking automaton currently driving the HGV. How gently yet firmly she was holding the steering wheel in her metallic hands, with her amorphic shell retreated to her wrists as if she took off her gloves to have a better grip around the wheel. The kobold was fascinated by her whole appearance, he got lost only looking at the complex metallic structures shining like hidden blades from below the amorphic water body. Still unsure if he should begin to talk or let her take the first step, his mind derived into a soft dream. He started imagining how her blue pawpad-like fingertips could possibly feel when they would touch his scales. Would they be soft like his paws? Or firm like rubber? Maybe even neoprene-like? Denton's attention eventually wandered further up inspecting closely the static mask of a face and the lively crescents shining behind the eye sockets out of a void of pitch-black darkness. There he noticed that Thilarie struggled as well with trying to speak; her eyes wandered restlessly from the street to the steering wheel and back. Also, she was peeking back to her co-driver on occasions, seemingly enjoying the attention she was receiving, noticing every stop Denton made. 

A few more minutes passed filled with nothing but absolute silence; only the rhythmic sound of the road assured them, that they were still residing with the living. It was not until Denton exhaled audibly giving air to his frustration; he was still clueless on how to break the silence. He got opposed with a frustrated interference escaping the Freezer's skull, an unexpected sound that echoed through the cab endlessly. Denton never heard that sound before, but it was like music in his ears; every sound Thilarie made remembered him of the tunes he rarely heard in the distance when military parades marched past the slums to the coast. Denton couldn't help himself but start giggling, not knowing why he even felt the urge doing as such. A gesture Thilarie gladly took as an open invitation to start giggling as well, granting the melodic echo even more instruments to create a harmonic tune. The icy crown on her forehead, which still was frozen solid when they started driving, turned more and more into a water-like substance wandering slowly down her forehead. When she started giggling the integrity of the crown got destroyed completely and small rivers of water were now running down her dark-iron cheeks into her collar. Soon they both laughed aloud, both having realized how stupid the current situation was with neither of them feeling compassionate enough to take the baton. Thilarie was the first who stopped eventually and tried talking normal instead. Her smooth, yet papercutting voice, was now filling the cab and silenced Denton immediately:

"Thanks, Mr Peritl. I needed that. H-honestly Lan is the one who likes talking way more than I do, so I normally just let her start the conversations tagging myself in after the ice broke. And your honestly quite captivating and astounding eyes made it not easy to remain concentrated on the road and at the same time try to think of a witty entrance. I-" 

Denton noticed how the currently ice-like body of his driver softened up considerably, rendering her now appearing so much smaller than before; Tiny yet way more relaxed. He felt joy swelling up in his chest as he witnessed Thilarie dropping now bit by bit her quite literal icy defence and started softening up to him. He sat up straight, brushed the folds out of his loincloth and took a deep breath:

"My apologies for failing to control my eyes; they tend to lock on at beautiful apparitions.", he noticed that the ice crown was now nearly molten and started to reform around the automaton's neck, "Ehem ... I mean - Lanstein mentioned you wanted to tell me something. Personal instructions?"

Thilarie gladly took the lifebelt, finally able to change the subject from this stuffy atmosphere to something more professional. Her body got firm again, and she took a sizzling breath. Denton was surprised how serious she now looked again, having herself distanced from her uncertainty:

"Personal instructions, right! Where to start, where to start? ... oh, I know! Mr Peritl -"

"Please, call me Denton. I feel old like that."

"...Denton, I would like to inform you about a few quite complicated issues we might face if we let you speak to the Triumvirate."

Denton felt his spine stiffening up; his tail waggled around restlessly. The voice of his partner Khõra grew in the back of his head, concerns about his sister's future ... and his future as well emerged. He interrupted Thilarie cautiously:

"What do you mean with complicated issues? Will they risk our plan in any way?"

Denton saw Thilarie taking her time thinking about the surely heavy load she was about to unload on the albino. Considering where she should begin:

"No ... your plan to speak to the Triumvirate will not be rendered more difficult than it already is due to these issues. It is more about you, Denton. Your everything.", she stopped, thinking, "Are you familiar with what will happen if a member of the Triumvirate happens to fall?"

"Wait ... they are not immortal?"

Thilarie couldn't help herself but burst out into short, joyless laughter:

"Far from it, hun. So I assume you know absolutely nothing about the ritual of unity as well?"

Denton felt fear rising in his small chest. The automaton appeared to him now much more sinister than before; what was she planning? Why was she considering the death of the members of the Triumvirate? He gulped down a massive frog and asked silently, fear rising in his voice:

"Why are you telling me that? Are you planning to initiate such a ritual? What-"

Suddenly the HGV began to swerve back and forth, with Thilarie trying to regain control. She was not expecting such an assumption out of the blue and gripped the steering wheel with such a sudden shock to the right, failing to comprehend what Denton just said. A few curvings later, Thilarie managed to regain control over the truck and started cursing silently to herself about how stupid she initiated the conversation. Denton heard the curses, and he was listening at the same time to the accusations of Khõra scolding him with surprising pressure to keep his tongue under control.

"No ... far from it.", the freezer tried to regain her breath, "I am hurt you are even thinking about that. No! I just wanted to speak with you about your special condition."

"My condition? Am I ill?"

Denton felt frustration rising in the insect-looking facial mask of Thilarie, the glowing eyes flickered; she was stressed:

"You are not ill ... far from it. Ok, let me rewind, and let me finish this sentence. Will you?", a single nod, "Thank you. Ok ... as you are well aware, you are in fact an albino. And not just any albino. I saw it when you returned with Lanstein, clean; your scales were shimmering like finest ivory. Denton, your body is spotless, flawless! You are for sure a so-called Splinter-incarnation of the Ivory Jack! That is why you will face issues in the palace of unity. They will notice that."

Now Denton was even more clueless. This revelation didn't sound too bad; why was Thilarie so reluctant in telling him about it?

"And that means?"

"Honestly? ... Nothing at first, and if you are lucky, nothing in your entire life. But the Triumvirate will take note of you as a possible successor of the current Ivory Jack. A doubtful honour ... I am only glad that Gâteau Au‘piere, the current Jack, is a Drake, which means he will outlive you for sure. But still..." 

Now Denton's curiosity rose. He honestly was not very sure he understood everything told until now, but he was able to connect the fear in Thilarie's tune when mentioning the ritual with her hope that the current Jack will outlive him:

"All nice and well, Thilarie, but I fear I don't understand. Assuming I would outlive his shininess ... what would happen then? What even is a Splinter? And what is this ritual?"

Thilaerie gripped the steering wheel firmer; her digital voice lowered a whole octave:

"The last time I witnessed such a ritual 25 years ago ... it was cruel; inhuman. I never witnessed such a pointless ritual in my entire time on Prius. It was ... a slaughterhouse. You know, there are quite a few eligible Splinters alive at the same time for the possible seat of the Ivory Jack, Bronze Queen and the Silver King. But only one Splinter appears to be the true reincarnation after the previous died. This ritual is a holy fight to the death. An all-out brawl between all Splinters so that only one leaves the arena claiming the birthright for themselves. Unveiling yourself to the Triumvirate, and you could possibly end in one such ritual. I ... I just wanted to let you know of this risk. There is no choice, Denton!"

That was a hard pill to swallow, but Denton's faith in the Triumvirate was stalwart. He couldn't imagine that even one of them could possibly die, so he remained unusually calm facing that revelation. But there was more behind it, Denton felt that deep in his gut. Thilarie sounded terrified, she was fearing herself from having to present him on a silver platter to the Triumvirate. So he unpacked all he got in trying to calm down his new friend, putting on a strong smile and started stroking his feathery hair on the backside of his head smooth:

"Don't worry, Thil. Even if such an unlikely event would occur and I would end in such a ritual. Even then, I would manage; I am no pushover. So please don't worry about me; I am strong!"

The eyes of the automaton grew darker and darker with every word spoken. She was now putting her whole remaining concentration into driving the HGV. Denton was surprised when witnessing, that Thilarie's voice deepened one further octave resonating now with an enormous bass in his belly:

"The very same words I heard all these years ago as well; my silver-plated friend Hector told them to me the night before the ritual started. He ... he didn't make it; I saw his blood tainting the sand of the colosseum, I heard him drawing his last breath telling me and everybody who loved him these three words. 'I am sorry!'. I love this country, I really do, but at this moment ... I was unable to feel anything." 

Denton felt the urge to hug his new friend; she made an experience he wished nobody to have to endure. He now understood why she felt obligated to warn him, she didn't want to risk repeating the same once more; bonding with one of these Splinters, he apparently was one of as well, only to lose them to a holy ritual. Denton had to admit, his throat did feel stuffy. He was concerned as well. Nevertheless, he decided to choose his following words carefully. 

"I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I didn't realize such events could even happen in my country. Wow ... you fear I could meet the same fate? Are you worried about me? I would simply deny the chance; I am a doctor in making and not a fighter."

If an automaton would have teeth in their non-existent mouth and was able to grit them, the sound Denton heard in response to his answer could be exactly that. A mechanic gritting leaking of frustration:

"They don't care, Denton. The law of the Triumvirate is absolute. If one happens to die, all known Splinters will get forced to compete in this ritualistic bloodshed. You could be invaluable, and even then ... they wouldn't care. You would get forced to fight. Tell me ... please soothe my concerns. If you were in a battle to the death, would you be able to hold your own?"

Denton felt his feathery hair starting to itch atrociously. He was a survivor; he could hold his own. But a battle to the death? He vowed in medical school - the few times the siblings were able to actually pay the fee for taking part in a lecture, that he would never take a life with his ability and find a way to utilize it for good. His paws were clean, but in such a situation ... the fear of leaving Bianca behind would possibly be enough to help him survive. He honestly wasn't sure what to say, so he instead took a piece of wood, a pencil, for demonstration purposes:

"Don't worry, Thil. I would be able to hold my own. I am a survivor with quite a bit of experience keeping me and my sister safe from thugs and creeps. I know how to fight and even more evade the opponent. Also ... you are sitting next to a powerful Labicer who knows how to use his arcane abilities. Take a look at this piece of organic matter."

Denton's hand glowed up in a purple shimmer, and a soft thick mist laid itself on the wood, and the pencil was gone. Denton was now holding only the inorganic graphite core of the pencil, which he let slide between his pale fingers, painting them grey. Thilarie was quite surprised by how fast the wood turned to dust and only said:

"Nevermind then. I didn't realise you were that powerful. A doctor holding the touch of death; frightening."

Denton felt that she was still fighting with herself but decided to drop the topic after spotting something outside. Her mood cleared up, and her balanced self returned; her voice was now again as high as usual:

"Seems like we just passed the city walls; we are now in Leaston. A few more minutes and we are at our headquarter. And from there on, it is only a few more 100 meters to the palace."