WebNovels

Chapter 7 - Chapter 6: Reflections in Still Water

Morning sunlight spilled through the open arches of the Veyros palace courtyard, striking the polished marble like fire trapped in glass. The clang of swords echoed against the stone walls, punctuated by a frustrated groan that could only belong to one person.

Seren Veyros swung his wooden practice sword with far more ambition than control.

The blade slipped from his grip, clattered against the ground, and bounced straight into a passing servant's tray, sending a loaf of bread tumbling through the air.

The bread landed neatly on Mara's head.

"Got it!" she said brightly, catching the rest of the tray before it fell. The crown of crumbs that now adorned her tangled hair looked almost intentional.

"...You've got to be kidding me," Seren muttered, rubbing his forehead.

From the balcony above, Lady Elyra Veyros, Seren's Mother, let out a sound between a laugh and a sigh. "My son, the hero of Osvarra, future slayer of nations and accidental destroyer of breakfast."

"I'm training, Mother!" Seren shot back, his voice cracking slightly. "Caldus says—"

"Caldus also says the sword has two ends," she replied, flipping a parchment with her quill. "You might try holding the correct one."

Down in the courtyard, the tall, armored knight cleared his throat dramatically. "Indeed, my lady speaks with divine insight! But young Lord Seren shows remarkable persistence! His grip may falter, yet his spirit is unbreakable!"

Seren closed his eyes. "Caldus, please stop narrating my humiliation."

The knight blinked, caught mid-pose. "Ah—of course, my lord! Forgive me! Your humility only deepens your legend!"

"Caldus!"

"Yes, my lord!"

"Stop!"

The knight grinned, standing straighter. His armor gleamed under the sun, a reflection of his boundless enthusiasm. Caldus was perhaps the only man in the Dominion whose devotion could make worship look exhausting.

Meanwhile, Mara, barefoot, grease-stained, and entirely too comfortable for a servant, was busy experimenting with a lump of molten metal in her hand. "If I hit this just right…" she mumbled.

A second later, there was a bang, followed by a flash of blue sparks. The lump reshaped itself into a vaguely spoon-like object.

"I think I made a fork," she said proudly.

Seren stared. "You're forging utensils again?"

"They're versatile!" she insisted. "You can stab things or eat stew!"

Caldus beamed. "Truly the mind of a tactical genius!"

"Truly the mind of a lunatic," Seren countered under his breath.

Lady Elyra descended the stairs at last, gliding more than walking. Her crimson robe shimmered faintly, embroidered with gold thread depicting Osvarran waves, the mark of her house. She set her quill aside and gave her son that knowing smile, the kind that said she loved him too much to admit he was ridiculous.

"My little flame," she said softly, touching his cheek. "Do try not to set the palace on fire before lunch."

"Mother," he groaned, cheeks heating. "I'm not little anymore."

"You are until you can lift that sword without flinging it at the servants."

Mara raised a hand, still holding the half-fork. "He's improving! He only hit two people today."

"Thank you, Mara," Lady Elyra said with a sigh, though her tone was affectionate. "Your optimism is… unique."

"I practice," Mara chirped, only to yelp as the fork slipped and singed her thumb. "Ow! Never mind."

Caldus clapped like she'd just delivered a divine revelation. "Marvelous focus under pressure! You see, Lord Seren, the her craft demands both courage and chaos! She embodies both perfectly!"

Seren pinched the bridge of his nose. "Caldus… she just burned herself."

"Exactly, my lord! Pain is the crucible of greatness!"

Elyra looked heavenward, as if asking the gods why this was her household. "I'm surrounded by lunatics," she muttered, then leaned down and kissed her son's forehead. "Eat something before your next disaster."

As she swept away, Caldus turned toward Seren, chest puffed with exaggerated pride. "My lord, your mother's grace and your strength, combined, shall lead this world!"

Seren looked at him, then at Mara, who was currently hitting her spoon against the wall to "test its sound."

He sighed. "If the world survives us, that'll be miracle enough."

The following morning, the Veyros Palace courtyard was quieter than usual. The rain had come early that morning, a soft drizzle that turned the palace gardens to mirrors of silver and green. The clang of metal and shouts of servants were replaced by the rhythmic sweep of a broom and the faint sound of Mara humming off-key.

She stopped halfway through the song, staring at the sunlight filtering through the pillars. Her face, usually lit with a goofy grin, looked oddly serious.

Seren noticed. "What's with that face? You look like you're thinking. That's dangerous."

Mara stuck out her tongue, but her eyes didn't brighten. "Hey, Seren… Can I ask for a favor?"

That caught him off guard. "A favor? You? Last time you asked me for one, you almost set the forge on fire."

"That was research," she said defensively, then her voice softened. "I want to visit someone. Back in the South Quarter."

Seren blinked. "The slums?"

She nodded absently. "Right. Seren… do you think—" She hesitated, biting her lip before looking up. "Do you think I could visit the slums? Just for a bit."

The word hung in the air like smoke.

The slums. The memory flashed through his mind, the twisting alleys, the smell of rust and hunger, the sound of crying children. And the way Mara had pulled him that day, hand locked around his wrist.

He'd seen enough of that place to know it wasn't safe.

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"There's someone I need to see," Mara said. Her voice softened. "A boy named Rion. He wanted to be a knight once… said he'd protect everyone in our street." A weak smile curved her lips. "And his sister, she's almost six this year. Her Drawing's coming soon, and she's always sick. I just… I just want to make sure she's okay."

He looked at her again, her hopeful expression, her fingers clutching the broom handle like it was a lifeline.

He sighed. "If I say no, you'll sneak out anyway, won't you?"

Mara grinned sheepishly. "Probably."

"Fine. But I'm going too."

"Wait, what?"

"I'm responsible for you," Seren said, crossing his arms. "After that mess with the thugs, Father assigned Caldus to watch me and by extension, you. So if you're leaving, I'm coming."

She blinked, clearly not expecting him to agree so easily. "You're actually serious?"

He nodded. "You saved my life, Mara. I'm just repaying the debt."

Mara blinked. "Seren—"

"No arguments," he said firmly, already turning toward the corridor. "But we'll need permission from my mother first."

The audience chamber of the Veyros estate was vast, a hall of blue banners and polished glass windows that let the stormlight spill across the marble. Lady Elyra was there, seated behind a desk stacked with scrolls, her golden quill scratching at endless documents.

When they entered, she looked up with that same weary fondness Seren knew all too well.

"My son," she said, "if you've come to ask for more practice swords, the answer is no. You've broken three this week."

"Not that," Seren said quickly. "Mara wants to visit the slums. I told her I'd go with her."

Her quill stilled. "The slums?"

Mara bowed her head, voice small. "Just to check on someone, my lady. I won't cause trouble."

Elyra studied the girl for a long moment. Her gaze softened. "The same place you were found?"

Mara nodded.

Caldus cleared his throat. "My lady, I shall accompany them. I would not allow harm to befall our young lord again."

Her gaze lingered on him for a long, thoughtful silence. Then she sighed, tapping the end of her quill against the desk.

"Be careful," was all she said in the end.

Seren gave a short bow. "We will."

The air in the lower city always smelled the same, smoke, salt, and desperation. The drizzle had turned the streets to mud, and the noise of the harbor was distant thunder. Caldus walked ahead, polished armor muted under a cloak, keeping his eyes sharp and his sword closer. Mara led the way, her usual cheer subdued by memory.

Rion's home was little more than a shack of patched wood and rusted metal. The roof sagged, and rain dripped through the cracks, but laughter greeted them when the door opened.

"Mara!" a boy's voice cried. A thin, sun-browned boy of ten darted out, "You came back!"

Mara laughed for the first time that morning, ruffling his hair. "Course I did, Rion. You still trying to swing that broom like a sword?"

Rion puffed his chest proudly. "I upgraded! Found a stick this time."

Behind him inside the shack, a frail girl peeked out, pale hair, blue eyes too large for her thin face. She laid on a cot near the window, blanket tucked under her chin. She smiled faintly when she saw them.

"Hi," she whispered.

Seren stepped closer, unsure of what to say. He'd never seen illness like this, not in the palace, not anywhere.

"Hello. I'm Seren."

She studied him, then smiled shyly. "Are you… a prince?"

He hesitated. "Something like that."

Caldus, looming behind, coughed. "Technically, my lord—"

"Not now, Caldus," Seren muttered, earning a grin from Mara.

Rion's eyes were bright with curiosity. "You're the one she rescued! The lost noble boy!"

Seren winced. "...I suppose I am."

Rion tilted his head. "Then then can you train me? Please? I want to be a knight! Like him!" He pointed at Caldus, who immediately puffed up like a peacock.

"Oh, splendid taste, young man!" Caldus declared. "Valor recognizes valor! Of course you may join our training!"

Mara laughed. "You sure about that? He'll make you swing a sword till you faint."

Rion straightened. "Then I'll faint with honor!"

The little girl giggled. Even Seren smiled. 

"How long has she been like this?" asked Seren

"Since last winter," Rion said, trying not to sound scared. "Doctor says her heart's weak. Drawing might help, but…"

Seren's jaw tightened. "But she might not make it until then."

No one answered. The silence was heavy, broken only by the rain tapping the roof.

Then Seren turned to Caldus. "We're taking them back with us."

"My lord?"

"I'll speak with mother. They'll have a room. And care. They'll be safe."

Mara blinked. "Seren— you can't just—"

"I can," he said sharply. "And I will."

Caldus smiled faintly. "Then I shall make arrangements."

As they left the shack, Seren looked back once. Rion was waving, Lira resting against the window, smiling weakly. Seren looked around at the broken roofs and water-filled streets. "No one should have to live like this," he said under his breath.

Mara heard him. "You can't fix everything, Seren."

"Maybe not today," he replied. "But I'll start somewhere."

Inside, something in Seren hardened. I'll free them all, he thought. One by one if I have to. No one should live like this.

Back at the palace he ordered rooms prepared for Rion and Lira. The servants didn't question him; Caldus handled the details. By evening, a healer was already attending to the girl.

Rion stood awkwardly just inside the grand hall, hair sticking out in uneven tufts. Mara hovered at his side, grabbing his hand pulling him as she walked. Seren marched ahead, Caldus following like a gleaming shadow.

As they entered Lady Elyra's chamber, she looked up from her desk. She had ink smudged on her fingers, papers spread like snowdrifts across the table, yet when her son entered, she smiled as if the entire world had paused.

"Back already?" she said, voice warm. "And who have you brought this time, my little hurricane?"

Seren fidgeted, trying to sound as formal as possible. "Mother, this is Rion. Mara's friend who we went to meet. He wants to be a knight."

Elyra rose, soft silk whispering around her ankles. Her gaze moved to Rion, assessing but kind. "A knight, hm? That's a noble dream."

Rion bowed, stumbling through the movement. "M-my lady."

Caldus stepped forward and knelt on one knee, his armor catching the light. "My lady, this boy shows promise. He lacks training, but not courage."

Elyra's expression gentled. "Promise is a seed, not a fruit. Tell me, Rion, what is your card?"

The boy froze. Mara bit her lip. Seren looked from one to the other, confused by the sudden tension.

Rion swallowed hard. "I… I don't have one, my lady."

The room went still. Even the servants in the corner paused.

Rion clenched his fists, bruised knuckles whitening. "But I can still fight. I'll work twice as hard. I want to be a knight, not for glory, but so people like my sister don't have to live afraid."

Seren, as they were coming back to the palace, had noticed that Rion's hands were bruised, from training with sticks, brooms, anything he could get his hands on. Mara had joked he was part squirrel, part hammer, and how he never gave up despite criticism from others.

He had started to see something familiar in the boy's eyes: the same stubbornness he felt in himself, the dedication of his father who he always admires.

For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Then Seren stepped forward, chin raised, his small fists curling. "So what if he does not have a Card?"

Elyra blinked. "Seren—"

"He doesn't need one," the boy said stubbornly. "He's strong. He trains all day without being told to. And he's kind."

Elyra's lips curved into a smile, the kind that made her look less like a lady of the court and more like a mother proud of her son.

"You have your father's fire," she murmured, brushing Seren's hair back. "Very well."

She turned to Rion. "If my son believes in you, then the Veyros house does too. You'll stay here. Train, learn, and eat enough to fill those hollow cheeks."

Rion's eyes widened. "R-really?"

Elyra nodded. "Every blade begins as raw iron. We'll see what kind of sword you become."

Mara grinned. "See? Told you he'd say yes."

Seren puffed out his chest, trying not to smile too wide. "You'll train with me and Mara both. Caldus will help."

Caldus inclined his head. "An honor, my lord. The training grounds await."

Elyra laughed softly. "Don't break each other too badly, please."

As the three children scampered out, Elyra watched them go, her eyes lingering on her son, the way his hand reached to pull Rion forward.

Caldus paused at the door, his voice low. "He has your heart, my lady."

Elyra sighed fondly. "And his father's stubbornness. That's a dangerous mix."

Days had passed since Rion and his sister were brought into the Veyros estate. The marble halls no longer frightened them; servants had grown used to the small shadow that followed Seren everywhere.

The next morning, the palace courtyard was transformed.

Caldus stood in the center, arms crossed, that infuriatingly calm smile on his face.

His card, unseen but felt, hummed faintly in the air: ILLUSION

"Same rule," he said, his voice echoing as twenty versions of him split apart like reflections in shattered glass. "Touch me. Once. That's all it takes."

The courtyard shimmered like a mirage.

"Just once, huh?" Mara cracked her knuckles, metal humming under her breath. "How hard can it be?"

Rion sighed. "That's what you said last time before you flattened half the flowerbeds."

"That was strategy!" she said proudly, her hand glowing as she gathered a handful of small metal marbles. "New plan. Quantity over quality!"

Seren shouted. "Oh no—Mara, wait—"

Too late.

She hurled the marbles like a machine gun. They pinged off pillars, ricocheted off armor stands, and zoomed back like angry wasps.

"Duck!" Rion shouted.

"I am ducking!" Seren yelled back, spinning away from one that whizzed past his ear.

Caldus, or rather many Calduses, watched serenely as chaos unfolded. The marbles bounced between the illusions, slicing through a few that burst into mist, then rebounded toward the others. The clones shifted, their forms blurring in and out of existence.

It would've been impressive, if Mara hadn't lost control.

"Why are they coming back?!" she screamed, waving her arms.

"Because you didn't aim properly!" Seren snapped, diving to the side as a marble whistled past his head.

Rion wasn't so lucky; three smacked him square in the helmet, one-two-three. "Ow! Ow! Why me?!" he cried, flailing dramatically.

"Because you're the biggest target!" Seren and Mara shouted in unison.

The metal balls kept rebounding wildly — ding, ding, ding! — turning the whole courtyard into a comedy sketch straight out of a disaster scroll. Even Caldus had to raise an eyebrow as one marble pinged off a statue and zipped straight toward his face.

He tilted his head slightly — dodging.

Seren froze mid-movement. "Wait…" he whispered, eyes narrowing.

That one dodged.

He lunged forward, sprinting past an illusion and striking straight at the Caldus who had flinched—

WHAM!

His hand passed through empty air. The Caldus dissolved like smoke, and the real one appeared behind him, hands clasped.

"Clever," Caldus said with an approving nod. "But your reflexes, my lord… still lack bite."

Seren grit his teeth, chest heaving. "You said to be clever. I was clever!"

"Clever is not enough when the world hits back," Caldus said, voice calm but edged.

Mara tripped over Rion, both collapsing in a heap. "Ugh, this is impossible!"

"Get your elbow out of my face!" Rion complained.

"It's not my fault your face is everywhere!"

They both froze when another marble flew right between them and hit one of the onlookers.

A sharp thunk followed by a very un-princely yelp.

Lucien Veyros, in his silken training robes, staggered into the scene, clutching his thigh just shy of a very unfortunate spot.

"What in the hells—?!" he barked, voice breaking slightly.

Mara blinked. "Oh. I missed."

Seren muttered, "Not by much."

Lucien turned, eyes narrowing, his face red from both pain and humiliation. "So this is how the hero trains? Gathering strays and circus performers?"

Rion, still on the ground, scowled. "Who are you calling a stray?!"

Lucien smirked, brushing off imaginary dust. "If the collar fits."

Seren clenched his fists. "Say that again."

"I said," Lucien drawled, "you've got a bad habit of picking up garbage from the streets. First the servant girl, now a wannabe knight. What's next, hero? A rat as your squire? Cardless piece of sh—"

Mara shot to her feet, metal crackling faintly in her palms. "You wanna test that theory, princeling?"

Lucien sneered but took a step back, only because his father, Lord Feran, had just entered the training ground alongside Lady Elyra.

Feran's face twisted in anger. "Lucien, enough." Then his gaze turned to Seren, cold and hard. "Your son brings shame to our bloodline, Lady Elyra. Training beside commoners and cardless brat? How far will your family fall?"

Elyra smiled, that polite, terrifying smile that always meant someone else was about to regret speaking. "Fall? Oh no, my lord. My son rises by learning what others are too proud to see."

Feran's jaw tightened. "You think this rabble can make a hero of him?"

"I think," Elyra said, stepping closer, "a hero can come from anywhere. But pride? Pride only ever digs graves."

The two nobles stared each other down, tension humming like a drawn bow. Even Caldus subtly shifted position, ready if things escalated.

Finally, Feran snapped, "Then prove it."

Elyra tilted her head. "Gladly. A fair duel then, your boy and mine. Next week. Let the court decide which training produces strength."

Lucien stiffened. "Next week—?"

"Yes," Elyra said smoothly. "Formal duels require council approval, do they not? I wouldn't want to break tradition."

Feran sneered, but he couldn't refute her. "Fine. But when your 'hero' falls, don't come weeping for mercy."

Elyra smiled faintly. "Oh, I never weep, Lord Feran. I only plan."

Lucien flinched under her gaze.

Behind her, Seren whispered to Mara, "Why do I feel like she just declared war?"

Mara shrugged. "Because she did. And I think we're the soldiers."

The training yard was quiet that afternoon, save for the faint hum of metal shaping under Mara's hands. She sat cross-legged in the sun, sweat on her brow, eyes narrowed in fierce focus.

Each twist of her fingers pulled molten silver threads into form, elegant and purposeful, until a blade-shaped shimmer cooled into the shape of a practice sword.

Rion was jogging laps at the edge of the field, his shirt clinging to his back, his breath steady and determined. Seren stood with arms folded, watching him. For the first time in days, he didn't look frustrated.

"Not bad," Seren said. "He's actually keeping up this time."

Mara looked up with a smirk. "That's what happens when someone trains instead of sulks."

Seren scowled. "I wasn't sulking."

"Yes, you were," she replied, as matter-of-fact as a hammer hitting iron.

Before Seren could snap back, a calm, almost playful voice drifted from behind them.

"Still arguing with your servants, my lord?"

Seren turned, the breath catching in his throat. Daemon Veyros stood at the entrance to the yard, hands folded neatly behind his back. His robe shimmered like dark silk, faint embroidery catching the sun.

A smile played on his lips, that kind of smile that said he already knew how this would go.

"Daemon?" Seren said cautiously. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard," Daemon began, stepping lightly across the stones, "that my dear cousin has a duel next week. Naturally, I came to see how the Hero of Osvarra is preparing."

The title dripped with teasing, though his tone was perfectly polite.

Seren bristled. "I'm training."

"Mm." Daemon's gaze flicked to Rion, then to Mara, then back to Seren. "And how's that going for you?"

"Fine," Seren snapped.

"Good," Daemon said with infuriating cheer. "Then you won't mind if I test your progress."

Mara blinked. "Wait, you want to spar with him?"

Daemon spread his arms in mock humility. "Not with me, exactly. With my card."

He turned his hand over, and a faint crimson shimmer bloomed across his palm. A delicate symbol pulsed there a single marionette's cross, with four strings curling downward like smoke: PUPPETEER

Mara whistled. "That's creepy."

Daemon ignored her. "If you wouldn't mind missy, could you craft me something small? A metal bird, perhaps. Let's say… a rooster."

Mara blinked. "A rooster?"

"It's for the symbolism," Daemon said lightly. "Besides, I've always liked the sound they make when they win."

Seren frowned, crossing his arms. "You're joking."

"I'm not," Daemon said. His eyes, suddenly sharp, cut to Seren.

"You think I'm mocking you, but I'm trying to help. Lucien's card, Rooster, is more dangerous than you realize. If you fight him unprepared, you'll lose before you blink."

He gave a small shrug. "So. I'll play the villain for now. Let's see what you can do against a bird."

The metal rooster clanked to life the moment Mara placed it on the ground.

Threads of red light streamed from Daemon's fingers, weaving into the creature like veins. Its eyes flared, and with a sharp clang-ka! the thing took a fighting stance, claws scraping the floor.

Rion backed up fast. "Uh… is it supposed to move like that?"

Daemon didn't answer, he only snapped his fingers. The puppet lunged.

Seren barely had time to raise his arm before the rooster's beak smashed into his guard. The impact sent him skidding backward, feet digging into the dirt.

"What—!" he gasped, trying to counter, but the bird was already airborne again, spinning like a blade.

Daemon's voice carried easily over the chaos. "Power is not pride, cousin. It's precision."

Seren ducked under another strike, panting. He could feel his pulse racing, that strange spark of will that came when he wanted something badly enough. His palm burned, the faint glow of the word Hero flickering on his skin.

He thrust his hand forward, trying to will the bird to stop. For a heartbeat, it hesitated.

But then the threads on its back tightened, and it moved again, faster.

A slash caught his shoulder, knocking him flat. Dust kicked up around him.

Daemon sighed, and the strings retracted. The rooster froze mid-air and landed neatly at his feet.

"Predictable," Daemon said softly.

Seren struggled up, bruised and shaking. "You… cheated."

"Did I?" Daemon tilted his head. "I used my card. You used yours. The difference is, mine obeyed me."

Caldus, who had been silently watching from the shade, finally spoke. His voice was calm, but there was iron beneath it.

"Enough."

Daemon smiled at him. "And what will you do, knight? Draw your sword at royalty?"

Caldus's eyes narrowed. He didn't move, but the air itself seemed to still around him. "My loyalty is to Lord Seren. If you threaten him, prince or not, I will act."

For a moment, the two stared at each other, the air thick with something sharp and electric.

Then Daemon laughed softly, the tension snapping like a string cut loose. "Loyalty is rare," he said.

He turned back to Seren, his voice almost gentle now. "Remember this cousin, every card has potential, but potential means nothing without discipline. You have strength, but no restraint. Learn that… before your pride gets you killed."

With that, he snapped his fingers, and the metal rooster collapsed into a heap of broken parts.

When he was gone, the only sound left was Mara's quiet voice.

"…You okay?"

Seren didn't answer. He stared at the pile of metal, jaw tight, eyes burning with something between anger and realization. The dying sunlight caught the fragments, glinting like broken mirrors. He saw his own reflection, and swore he would never look that weak again.

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