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As I moved through the manor, I caught my mother’s door cracked just enough for voices to spill out.
"My na ca up and I placed my ear on the door to listen".
Well... what else was I supposed to do?
It’s not like I ant to eavesdrop. I was just... curious. Honestly.
When your parents are speaking in low voices, in a room you’re rarely allowed in, you don’t just walk by like so well-behaved noble child.
You stop.
You listen.
That’s just survival instinct.
I leaned closer, palm pressed to the cool wood.
"...he’s not like the other children," Mother was saying—her tone soft, but with that careful edge she only used when talking about serious things.
Lady Eirisse Kestel stood by the hearth, sapphire gown pooling around her feet like water catching light. She didn’t just stand—she ruled the air around her. Even the flas in the hearth seed to behave.
Across from her was my father, Vaeron Kestel—broad-shouldered, hair cropped short, posture so straight you could use it to asure a wall. He looked like he’d stepped out of a battlefield and into this room without changing his stance.
The door creaked. My stomach dropped.
Both of them turned.
They smiled.
Uh-oh.
Parents only smile like that when they’ve already decided sothing for you.
"Arien," Mother said smoothly, "we were just talking about you."
"Should I be worried?" I asked, only half-joking.
Father’s mouth twitched—his version of a laugh. "Not unless you’ve been climbing cliffs again."
"That was one ti," I muttered.
"And swimming across Silver Lake without telling anyone?"
"...also one ti."
Mother’s lips pressed together, but her eyes glimred with amusent.
Great. Now they were having a silent conversation about .
"We’ve decided it’s ti for your magical aptitude test," she said.
My brain stalled. "Magic? Like—actual magic? Fireballs? Lightning? Turning people into frogs?"
Father gave a look like I’d just asked if water was wet. "Of course magic exists. You’ve been alive for six years and didn’t notice?"
"I was... busy learning the language. And doing push-ups."
He chuckled. "Most children take the test between six and eight years old. You’ve already shown signs—strength beyond your age, swimming without being taught. It’s ti we see what your elent is."
Elent. The word lodged in my head. Fire? Water? Sothing cooler? Sothing dangerous?
Before I could ask, he called for Maya, our head maid, to prepare the carriage as we walked down the manor to the gates I saw it
The Kestel family carriage wasn’t just a carriage—it was a rolling fortress. Thick oak panels, enchantnts humming faintly under my fingertips, wheels that glided over bumps like the road was bowing out of the way.
Veylrest unfolded before us as the gates swung wide—streets of worn stone, banners snapping in the breeze, rchants hawking their goods in voices big enough to startle pigeons. Sowhere, a fiddle scraped out a cheerful tune that didn’t match the sll of roasting fish.
Mother glanced at . "Are you hungry?" I replied
"...A little."
"Then we’ll stop at The Azure Hearth before the temple. It’s a popular open-air restaurant, and a good chance for you to see the outside world."
The sll hit before the sight of the city and the sll of roasted at, fresh bread, and sothing sweet and smoky I couldn’t na.
Blue awnings rippled over the market square, shading a scatter of wooden tables. We sat at the railing, where I could watch the chaos below: kids chasing wind toys, a rchant waving fabric like battle flags, adventurers staggering out of a timber-frad building across the street.
I pointed at it. "What’s that?"
"The Adventurer’s Guild," Father said.
It looked... alive. Noisy. Dangerous. Perfect.
A server appeared with bread and water. "Welco to The Azure Hearth. Today’s roast is river boar, fresh from the marshlands."
"I’ll take that," I said instantly.
Mother smirked. "You’ll try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it."
"I’ll like it."
And I did. The at was tender, the vegetables caralized, the bread still warm. I ate like I might not get another al for a week.
---
The Mythos
Halfway through my plate, I leaned toward Mother. "Alright. Tell how this world started—the official story."
Her brow arched. "The creation myth? Why?"
"Because I’d rather not offend a god by accident. Feels like the sort of thing you should know before... you know... talking to one."
She laughed softly. "Very well. In the beginning, there was only the Void. Then ca the Naless Mother, who shaped the First Stone from nothing. From that stone, she built the world. But she did not rule it herself. She split her power into three forces.
"The first beca the Ons—living truths, embodints of concepts like Destruction, Truth, Lust, Repose, and Disdain. The second beca the —rulers born from creation and ruin, descended from the first dragons. The third beca the guardians of balance, sworn to neither side."
My fork hovered over my plate. Living truths? Dragon-born rulers? Guardians that don’t pick sides? I thought to myself This wasn’t just a bedti story this was a map of the world’s power.
"And they all got along?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
Her smile thinned. "The Ons and the guardians have fought for supremacy since the first sunrise. The other side rarely interfere... unless they feel threatened. And when they do, they don’t stop until the threat is gone."
Sothing about the way she said gone made the back of my neck prickle.
She sipped her tea. "Of course, it’s all myth anyway. I’m not even sure it all happened."
Yeah. Myths.
Except... my gut told she wasn’t just telling a story. She was warning after we finished eating and left the restaurant my head was still buzzing about the magic test, world powers, gods and apparently, I felt looks like desert wasn’t on the agenda."
After lunch, Father and Mother stopped at a gold-trimd trade house for "business." Maya was left to watch . I asked can I play around and she replied
"Just in the square?" I asked.
She sighed. "Stay where I can see you."
I wandered between stalls—watched a juggler toss glowing stones, slled bread so fresh it could’ve been illegal, dodged a cart that nearly clipped my toes. Apples spilled across the cobbles. I crouched to help.
And then—
A figure stood in the shadow of an alley. Tall. Still. Holding a cluster of spears, like a knight... I thought nothing too suspicious but after a brief mont
My chest tightened right where the sigil had once burned.
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