The Lost Prince chuckled at his reply. "Good. That's what I was hoping to hear, to ensure you weren't some young fool who thought a crown made a worthy king. I've seen your work, seen how you care for your people - even just warning them of danger in the last few minutes, before anything else." He nodded, and stepped back.<br/><br/>"That settles that, I suppose," Shyka said, nodding to the assembled, who nodded in return. Each of them then gestured, and three porcelain masks appeared on the stump between them. They looked vaguely familiar... like the ones the Lantern King used to express his emotions, though these appeared to be surprise, pain, and sorrow, from the looks of them. "And with that, I believe the favors are repaid. Best of luck to you, Devaguea. You'll need it."<br/><br/>The three Eldest each departed in their own way, clearly not intending to stay to answer questions. Nyrissa stepped up to examine the masks, frowning. "Just... what are we supposed to do with these?"