"Young master, I've served this house for forty years. I know what you're trying to hide."
Aldric's words stopped Caelan in his tracks.
They had just left the hidden chamber and were halfway to Caelan's rooms when the old servant spoke.
His voice was steady, without accusation, but filled with certainty.
Caelan turned to face him, keeping his expression normal despite the alarm racing through him. They stood in a dimly lit corridor, the walls lined with faded tapestries that had once displayed Albrecht's glory but now hung in neglect.
"What exactly do you think I'm hiding, Aldric?" Caelan asked carefully.
The old man's eyes, sharp despite his age, studied Caelan's face.
"You've changed since your illness worsened. At first, I thought it was just the grief of losing your father. But it's more than that."
Caelan's mind—Marcus Chen's mind—calculated quickly.
Denial would only raise suspicion. A partial truth might be better than a complete lie.
"People change when faced with death, Aldric. My own, and my father's."
Aldric shook his head slowly. "It's not just change, my lord. You speak differently.
You move differently—even accounting for your weakness. And the way you handled Lord Vaeron..."
He paused. "You found your father's hidden room in minutes, when it remained undiscovered for years."
The corridor suddenly felt colder.
Caelan had been careless, allowing too much of Marcus to show through Caelan's expected behaviour.
He had underestimated the old servant's perception.
"Perhaps my father told me of it before he died," Caelan suggested.
"He did not," Aldric said with quiet certainty.
"I was with Lord Magnus in his final hours. He spoke of many things, but not of hidden chambers."
Silence stretched between them. Caelan weighed his options.
If Aldric couldn't be trusted, he would need to be dealt with—but in his weakened state, Caelan could hardly overpower the servant. And if Aldric truly had served House Albrecht loyally for four decades, he could be an invaluable ally.
"Let us continue this conversation in my chambers," Caelan said finally.
"These walls may have ears."
Aldric nodded, once again supporting Caelan as they made their way through the manor.
Once they reached Caelan's room and the door was firmly closed, Aldric spoke again.
"Your father entrusted me with certain knowledge," he said.
"Things known only to the lord of the house and his most trusted servants. The trainings, the tests, the traditions that House Albrecht has maintained for generations."
Caelan moved to the window, looking out over the Albrecht lands—what little remained of them. "What sort of trainings?"
"Combat techniques passed down from the first Lord Albrecht.
Methods to strengthen the body when magic fails.
Ways to move unseen, to gather information, to strike from the shadows." Aldric paused.
"The very skills your father intended to teach you when you came of age—before his arrest."
This was unexpected.
Caelan's borrowed memories contained nothing about such training.
The original Caelan had been too sickly, apparently, for his father to begin the lessons.
"And these techniques," Caelan said carefully, "they're connected to Nullcraft?"
Aldric's eyes widened slightly—the first genuine surprise he'd shown.
"You found the Nullcraft texts. I wondered if they might be in that chamber." He nodded slowly.
"Yes, my lord. The physical techniques complement the mental disciplines of Nullcraft.
Together, they formed the true strength of House Albrecht—not the shadow magic most believe was your family's power."
Caelan considered this information. It aligned with what he'd read in Morvian's journal—that Nullcraft had been developed as a counter to the Black Seraph's influence.
"Tell me, Aldric," he said, watching the old man's face, "what colour are the eyes of the raven?"
It was a test—one Caelan himself didn't know the answer to, but if Aldric truly possessed secret knowledge of House Albrecht...
"In daylight, grey as winter skies," Aldric replied without hesitation.
"In darkness, red as spilled blood. And in the space between, they see what others cannot."
The answer, delivered like a recitation of something memorized long ago, sent a chill down Caelan's spine.
It matched perfectly with the medallion he'd found—the raven with eyes of red stone.
"The shadow falls, the raven rises," Aldric continued, the words taking on the rhythm of a ritual.
"What was your father's response to this phrase, my lord?"
Another test—but this time, Aldric was testing him.
Caelan had no idea what the correct answer might be.
The original Caelan's memories held nothing of such exchanges.
"I don't know," he admitted. "My father never shared that with me."
Aldric nodded, seemingly satisfied rather than disappointed.
"Good. Honesty is better than pretence.
Lord Magnus would have replied: 'Through darkness to dawn, the raven flies.'
It is an exchange used between those who share the deepest secrets of House Albrecht."
"And now you test whether I share those secrets," Caelan observed.
"I test whether you are willing to learn them," Aldric corrected.
"Something has changed in you, my lord. You are not quite the young master I've known since birth. Yet I sense no malice in the change—only strength where there was weakness before."
The servant's perception was uncomfortably accurate. Caelan needed to decide how much to reveal.
"My illness brought me close to death," he said slowly.
"Closer than you know. And in that closeness, I... remembered things. Knowledge that seems both mine and not mine. Skills I never learned yet somehow possess."
It was as close to the truth as he dared come. Not a full confession of Marcus Chen's memories inhabiting Caelan Albrecht's body, but enough to explain the discrepancies in his behavior.
Aldric studied him for a long moment, then nodded.
"The Awakening. It is rare, but it has happened before in your bloodline. Usually after great trauma or near-death experiences."
"The Awakening?" Caelan repeated.
"When the blood remembers what the mind has forgotten," Aldric explained.
"Your ancestors believed that all knowledge gained by House Albrecht was never truly lost—merely sleeping in the blood until needed again."
This was convenient—a cultural belief that could explain Caelan's sudden change without revealing the truth of his reincarnation.
Whether Aldric truly believed this explanation or simply accepted it as the closest he would get to the truth, Caelan couldn't tell.
"What else do you know, Aldric?" he asked.
"About the Black Seraph? About the Covenant?"
The old servant moved to check that the door was securely closed before answering.
"The Black Seraph is seldom spoken of, even among those who know the family's secrets. It is said to be an entity of pure darkness, trapped between worlds. Morvian Albrecht, your ancestor, made a pact with it—trading power for... something. The nature of that exchange has been lost to time."
"And the Covenant?"
"A binding agreement, passed through the bloodline. Each generation of Albrechts is said to be born with a small piece of the Seraph's essence within them. It gives them their shadow magic—but at a cost. The stronger the magic, the greater the Seraph's influence."
Caelan thought of the original Caelan's lack of magical ability—was that why he had been so sickly?
A body rejecting the foreign essence within it?
"And Nullcraft was developed to counter this influence?"
Aldric nodded. "To balance the scales. To use the Seraph's gifts without falling to its corruption.
Those Albrechts most susceptible to the Seraph's whispers often proved most adept at Nullcraft—using one power to check the other."
This explained much, but raised even more questions.
Questions that would have to wait—Caelan needed to make a decision about Aldric first.
"Why are you telling me all this now?" he asked. "If these are such closely guarded secrets?"
"Because House Albrecht stands on the edge of extinction," Aldric said simply.
"And you, my lord, despite your physical frailty, suddenly show more promise than I have seen in years. If there is any hope of saving this house, it lies with you, and I would see you armed with every weapon your ancestors can provide."
The sincerity in the old man's voice was unmistakable. Caelan made his decision.
"I need your help, Aldric," he said. "I need to learn everything—the training my father would have given me, the secrets of Nullcraft, the true history of House Albrecht. And I need to grow stronger, despite this body's limitations."
"It won't be easy, my lord. The training is demanding even for those in perfect health."
"I don't have the luxury of easy paths," Caelan replied.
"House Fenn has given us one month. We must use every day of it."
Aldric bowed, a gesture of respect deeper than any he had shown before.
"Then we begin immediately. I will teach you what I know, and help you understand what you've found in the hidden chamber."
"There's one more thing," Caelan said.
"To the world—to House Fenn especially, I must appear as they expect: weak, sickly, harmless. My training, my growing knowledge—all must remain secret."
"A wise precaution," Aldric agreed.
"Let them underestimate you until it's too late. I will help maintain the facade, my lord."
For the first time since awakening in this frail body, Caelan felt something like hope.
In Aldric, he had found not just a servant, but an ally with knowledge vital to his survival and House Albrecht's resurrection.
"We'll start with the basic forms tonight," Aldric said.
Exercises to strengthen your body gradually without risking further damage. And I'll begin explaining the principles of Nullcraft—though much of it you'll need to learn from the texts themselves."
"Thank you, Aldric," Caelan said, the words coming more easily than he expected.
In his life as Marcus, gratitude had been a rare emotion.
"Your loyalty will not be forgotten when House Albrecht rises again."
"If I may speak plainly, my lord," Aldric said, "there is something else that requires your attention. The bandits."
"Bandits?"
"Yes, my lord. For the past month, armed men have been raiding the villages still under Albrecht's protection.
Three so far. They take food, valuables, sometimes people who are never seen again. The villagers have sent representatives twice, begging for help."
"And what did the original—" Caelan caught himself. "What did I tell them before?"
Aldric's expression grew troubled.
"You told them House Albrecht had no men to spare for their defence. Which was true—we have no guards left, no soldiers."
Another failure of the original Caelan, though an understandable one, given his condition and House Albrecht's reduced circumstances.
"These bandits," Caelan said. "They target only Albrecht villages?"
"Yes, my lord. Fenn lands remain untouched."
His suspicion had been accurate: House Fenn was indeed using banditry to further weaken Albrecht holdings.
"Where was the most recent attack?"
"Riverstone, my lord. A small farming village is three miles east. They raided four nights ago."
Caelan considered his options. He was in no condition to fight bandits—not yet.
But neither could he abandon the few people still loyal to House Albrecht.
"When will they strike next, do you think?"
"The pattern suggests they wait ten to twelve days between raids. To allow villages to recover just enough to be worth targeting again."
Caelan nodded. "Then we have time. Not much, but enough to begin preparations.
Tell me everything you know about these bandits—their numbers, weapons, tactics. And tomorrow, we'll send word to the villages. House Albrecht has not forgotten its responsibilities."
As Aldric began recounting what he knew of the bandit threat, Caelan felt a sense of purpose solidifying within him.
He had found an ally, discovered secrets that might yet save House Albrecht, and identified a clear enemy in these bandits—likely Fenn agents.
The path ahead remained treacherous, his body's weakness a constant limitation.
But for the first time, he could see a way forward.
With Aldric's help, he would learn the skills his ancestors had developed.
He would grow stronger. And when the time came, he would show Lord Vaeron that the last Albrecht was anything but harmless.
The raven might be wounded, but its talons were still sharp.