POV - Grisel
The news reached me the next day.
I was in the Minor Shrine of the Temple of Wind, preparing the summoning records for the next collective meditation ceremony, when one of the acolytes, a nervous young woman named Saele, came running up to me.
Grisel-sama... something happened at the academy, it involves Luahn.
My heart skipped a beat.
"What happened?"
"An explosion... they say it was his magic. Apparently... he injured a classmate. Emil, the son of the leading family in the West."
I dropped the book. I didn't even realize it until the sharp sound of the pages hitting the floor made me react.
That night, I confronted my mother.
I found her in the central hall of the main shrine, writing something on one of the sacred scrolls. As soon as I approached, she stopped.
"You already know," she said without looking at me.
"How is Luahn?"
"Physically, he's fine. But the situation... is delicate."
"Delicate? Why? It was an accident! And Emil?"
"He's out of danger. He suffered burns and loss of consciousness from the magical explosion, but he's been stabilized. Luahn's fire was not ordinary. White. Pure. Unfiltered. Something we had never seen before. Not you, not me, not the sages."
"But it was a reflex. I didn't mean to hurt him!"
"We know that. But the Council... has already decided on some measures."
"What kind of measures?" I asked coldly.
"He will not be allowed to use his abilities in formal duels or joint practices for an indefinite period of time."
"He will also not be allowed to participate in missions outside the city until a group of magicians and clerics verify that he has complete control over his abilities."
"And he will have a permanent mentor to supervise his training. They haven't decided who that will be yet."
I was speechless.
That wasn't protection.
It was isolation.
It was a cage.
"They're scared," I whispered.
"And not without reason," said my mother, finally looking at me.
"What I saw in their eyes was... beyond fear. It was the certainty that something has changed. And they don't know if it's for better or for worse.
"And you?" I asked her. My heart was pounding. Not out of fear... but out of anger.
"What do you see when you look at him?"
My mother was silent. Not out of doubt. Out of respect.
"I see a boy who didn't ask for that power. Who struggles to control it. Who never used it to impose himself or to stand out.
I see someone who... could change our world. For the better. But who will pay a very high price for every step."
I clenched my hands.
"I'll be with him. It doesn't matter if they impose rules on him. If they lock him into norms or isolate him from his peers. I won't let them make him feel like a monster."
She nodded slowly.
"That's what I thought. That's why I didn't want to hide it from you.
But Grisel... I warn you as a mother. Supporting him will cost you. Maybe more than you imagine."
"So what? Am I going to walk away just because it's difficult?"
"No. But the world will test you.
You are the daughter of the high priestess. Heir to the temple. If you publicly align yourself with him... it won't just be a mixed-race child who is under scrutiny. It will be you too."
I stood my ground.
"I don't care. Luahn... is my first friend. And more than that.
He's the only one who sees me as simply Grisel. Not the apprentice. Not the priestess's daughter. Just me.
If he falls, I'll fall with him. If he rises... I'll be by his side."
My mother looked at me for a long moment. Then... she smiled.
"You've grown up."
"So has he."
Later that night, I slipped out into one of the temple's outer corridors. I looked up at the three moons adorning the sky. I thought about Luahn. About how he always tried not to bother or be a burden to others.
And now they were labeling him dangerous.
As if his power were a sin.
"I won't let them take away who you are," I whispered to myself.
And in that moment, I made a decision.
No matter what the council ruled.
I would train with him.
I would help him control that white fire.
And if the whole clan turned against him...
...he would at least have one person on his side.
I wasn't praying for Luahn.
I would act for him.
*
POV - Luahn
Since the day of the incident, something had changed in the air. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. Like an invisible barrier separating me from the rest.
First came the cold words of the council:
"Restricted from participating in any duels or joint training."
"Until the flow of your energies is controlled, you will remain under observation."
"You may not leave the city until further notice."
They didn't yell at me or lock me up. But they built walls with rules and fear.
And the result was something that made me feel uncomfortable.
At the academy, training continued as usual... only I was no longer part of it. I was assigned to a corner away from the practice field, where I could perform basic exercises with wooden weapons, always watched by an instructor I didn't know.
The other cadets trained in pairs. I practiced alone.
And at first I tried not to make a big deal out of it. I thought, "It's okay, it's temporary, things will get better soon."
But as the days went by, I realized it wasn't that simple.
The whispers returned.
The shifty glances.
The hushed comments.
The whispers that said more than any shout.
"That's the boy who burned Emil..."
"They say he can't control his fire element..."
"Didn't he have ears and a tail when he was a kid? Why not anymore?"
"He's weird... a mix of everything, but he doesn't belong to anything..."
I gritted my teeth. I didn't respond. I focused on the sound of my sword against the training pole.
One... two... three times.
Again.
Until my hands hurt. Until my fingers went numb.
Until the ice stopped coming out because my whole body was shaking.
At home, I tried to act like nothing was wrong.
"Everything okay at the academy, son?" Mom would ask every night.
And I would lie with a small smile.
"Yeah. Just light training. Nothing to worry about."
I couldn't tell her the truth.
I didn't want her to worry any more.
She had already suffered too much because of me.
And yet, sometimes I heard her talking to herself while she washed the dishes or did her embroidery.
"That advice... conservative idiots..."
"My boy isn't dangerous..."
But when she saw me, she smiled.
And so did I.
One afternoon, while I was training alone, Grisel came to see me.
She didn't say anything at first. She sat under one of the trees near my practice area. She just watched.
I knew she was doing it to keep me company. But that only made me feel weaker.
When I finally finished, I approached her. I was drenched in sweat.
"Are you here to watch me too?" I tried to joke, but it came out bitterly.
"I'm here to make sure you don't collapse from exhaustion, idiot," she replied, crossing her arms. "You seem to be training as if you want to break yourself."
"Maybe then they'll stop being afraid of me."
She looked at me silently. And then she said something I didn't expect.
"I'm not afraid of you. And I know there are others like me."
"It doesn't seem like it."
"Maybe because you only see those who turn their backs on you. But I see those who stay. Those who are beginning to see who you really are."
I remained silent. Not because I doubted her words. But because I didn't know what to say.
"I'm not here to convince you of anything," she said, softening her tone. "Just to remind you that you weren't born to fit in. You were born to break the mold. That... sometimes hurts. But it's also worth it."
That night, when I got home, I went straight to bed. Mom left dinner warm on the table, and although I was hungry, I didn't have the strength.
I stared at the ceiling of my room.
I thought about Dievas. About William. About the voices of my memories returning like echoes.
About the promises.
About Emilia.
About her embrace. About her joy.
And for the first time in a long time, I shed a tear.
Not out of sadness.
But out of determination.
If this is the path I must take to protect them... then I will walk alone if necessary.
But I will not forget what they told me.
That I am not alone.
*
POV: Garrok
I was never a man of many words. The sword teaches more than the tongue, and sweat on the training ground says more about a cadet than a thousand elegant words.
But lately... words were blades.
And silence, a trap.
Since we returned from the expedition, tensions had grown thicker than the fog in the Brath Mountains. The incident with Luahn, coupled with what we found in the caves, seemed to have shaken something deep within the council... and within the people.
And I... saw it all.
And kept it all to myself.
Because I had learned, over the years, that silence could also protect.
That morning, after finishing the training round, I watched the cadets from the stands in the central courtyard. Some practiced stances energetically, others simply chatted in scattered groups.
But the line was clear.
Too clear.
On one side were those who approached Luahn: the young people who had seen with their own eyes how he fought, how he overcame himself, how he faced every restriction with his head held high.
On the other side were those who distanced themselves, guided more by what their parents said than by what they themselves knew.
And in the middle... those who didn't know what to believe.
Like seeds carried by an uncertain wind.
I crossed my arms. The sun was beating down hard that day, but the sweat running down my back was not from the heat. It was from discomfort.
I approached one of my colleagues, an old soldier who was now an instructor, like me.
"Have you noticed what's happening?" I asked him bluntly.
"About Luahn? It's hard not to. Words fly faster than swords, it seems," he sighed.
"And what do you think?"
He hesitated. Then he said:
"What else can we do but continue to allow the leaders to dictate who is worthy and who is not? The wolf clan will not survive even the coming winter."
The three founding families:
The main family of the East, to which Remin belongs.
The main family of the East, from which several high-ranking members of the council come.
And the main family of the North, perhaps the most influential in territorial affairs.
The three clans do not always agree. But in recent months... they did agree on one thing: Luahn represents a risk.
A risk because he is different.
A risk because they can no longer ignore him.
A risk because he could be stronger than their own heirs.
I sat under one of the pillars in the courtyard, watching Emilia talk with her friends. From a distance, she looked happy. But her smile was sharper. Firmer. Like someone who was no longer seeking approval, only justice.
And that worried me too.
Because justice... when it confronts power, usually comes at a high price.
That night, I attended an informal meeting at the home of one of the council veterans. It wasn't an official session, but many went anyway. To listen. To talk... or to filter what the real decision-makers would hear later.
I heard things like:
"That mestizo has already caused enough trouble."
"We should get him out of the academy before he hurts someone else."
"What if he's being guided by something external... something dark?"
"The last time someone like that appeared, it brought war."
I couldn't hold back.
I stood up, my voice firm.
"And how many of you have seen him train? How many have heard him speak?"
"Garrok..." one tried to stop me.
"You have judged him for what you fear, not for what he is. And that is cowardice, not prudence."
There was silence.
"Do you think removing him will protect you?" I continued. "No. It will only weaken you. Because the day the enemy returns, they will not ask us if we are mixed race, nobles, or peasants. Only if we know how to fight."
They didn't applaud me.
They didn't answer me.
But I saw some looks change.
The rift was there.
Between generations, between families, between convictions.
And Luahn's name... was right in the middle.
When I got home, I made myself a hot tea. Outside, the wind whistled with the echo of the trees in the North Forest.
I thought about him.
The mixed-race boy with the serious gaze and deep silences.
His ice that didn't freeze, but revealed.
And I murmured into the air:
"Sometimes... the wolf that comes from outside is the one who saves the pack."
I don't know why I said it.
But in my heart... I believed it.