The High Spire of House Ardyn rose above the clouds like a blade piercing the firmament. Forged from condensed mana-steel and threaded with ley-crystal veins, the monolith pulsed with ancient life. Those attuned to the arcane could feel it—the low thrum of old wards, the heartbeat of buried power resonating beneath each step.
Once every year, that pulse quickened.
The Gathering of Flame had begun.
Valerius Ardyn, the Nineteenth Head of House Ardyn, sat upon an obsidian dais carved from a single slab of Voidstone. His eyes were closed, yet not a breath in the chamber escaped his notice. Around him stood the Circle—elders of blood and renown, garbed in robes marked by house glyphs and elemental sigils denoting tier and deed. Some were rigid with tradition; others cloaked themselves in the fluid elegance of mana discipline.
This was not a political court.
This was fire and legacy—Ardyn alone.
For the first time, Kael glimpsed it all—not through his infant eyes, but via threads of awareness he wove in secret. Ambient mana filled the manor like water in a vessel, and Kael had learned to dip beneath the surface. His reach was still small, his threads fragile—but perception was a weapon. And no one guarded their tongues around a crib.
They think me blind and deaf. Let them.
A voice echoed across the chamber.
"Report."
No flourish. No title.
Just command.
An elder stepped forward. Thin, sharp-eyed, and wreathed in pale spectral mana, he bowed slightly before speaking.
"There has been movement near Skyflare Ridge. A Nautarian rebel splinter is probing the ley lines. No engagements yet. Their patterns are erratic… increasingly so."
A ripple passed through the room. Small, but not unnoticed.
Another elder spoke, older, his robes bearing the mark of the Mind Archives. "Leivar of the Ash Sanctum—one of the Ten—has vanished. Last known presence was during a Rift storm near the Echo Wastes. No trace since."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Unspoken: Only nine Omnimana Users remain.
Then came the voices of flame—not the elders, but the Ardyn Siblings.
They stood apart in the chamber—not as kin, but as rising forces, each bearing the bloodline's weight in different forms.
Cerys Ardyn – The SecondbornShe was statuesque and lethal in poise. Her words were clean cuts of logic."Assign Watchers to the Ridge. No overt deployment. We observe. If this rebel faction is moving, there must be purpose. We will find it."
Darius Ardyn – The FifthbornBuilt like a war-forged titan, voice roughened by battlefields."If they're poking the lines, they want a response. I say give it to them. Let them see fire from the skies before they dare another step."
Cerys didn't look at him. "And give the rebels a cause to rally behind? That's not strategy. That's brute idiocy."
Darius grinned. "Sometimes, idiocy is effective."
Liora Ardyn – The SeventhQuiet, unreadable. Her words often came last—and lingered longest."I've watched the movement too. They're not testing us. They're waiting. Listening. This rebel group doesn't want war… not yet."
Theron Ardyn – The NinthClad in rune-threaded robes, fingers faintly glowing with scriptorum ink."Leivar's disappearance troubles me more. Omnimana doesn't fade. It fractures or echoes. If he fell, something reached him that we've yet to understand."
Valerius opened his eyes.
Silver fire flickered within them.
"Enough."
The air shifted, as if reality itself bowed slightly.
"Let the Watchers watch. Let the Mind Archives trace Leivar's remnants. But let the House of Ardyn remember this—"
His voice dropped in tone, but grew heavier.
"We are not prey."
Silence.
And then, the low beat of the ley-crystal heart embedded beneath the Spire returned, like a drum that had waited for affirmation.
Back in his crib, Kael exhaled through tiny lungs. The mana threads quivered, then settled. His chest rose and fell.
So this… is the world I've returned to.
Siblings who command battlefields and minds. A father who doesn't speak, but reshapes the air itself. And all while I relearn how to lift my own head.
But I know this story.
The strongest don't always win.
It's the one they ignore… who rises.