Lavatorian was even grander up close.
The marble streets shimmered faintly with embedded runes, and floating lanterns hung above the plazas like stars trapped in glass.
The air smelled of spices, ink, and freshly polished steel — the scent of a city alive with ambition and light.
Sam walked among the crowd with quiet awe, his cloak pulled tight around his shoulders as he followed the winding streets toward the academy gates.
They were enormous — twin archways of white stone lined with glowing sigils,
and beyond them rose the towers of Lavatorian Academy, where scholars, mages, and warriors trained under the banners of the seven noble houses.
He stood there for a long time, watching the students walk in freely, their uniforms marked with the crests of their families. Sam took a deep breath and approached the guards.
"Excuse me," he said politely. "I need to meet someone inside. I was told I could find knowledge here — about the old runes and forgotten temples."
The guard, a tall man in golden armor, looked him up and down. His tone was firm but disinterested. "State your name and affiliation."
Sam hesitated. "I… I'm not with any house. I'm just a traveler."
That was the wrong answer.
The guards exchanged glances. The first one's expression hardened.
"Then you have no business here. The Academy grounds are restricted. Outsiders are not permitted entry."
Sam tried again. "Please. I've traveled from the western border, through the mountains. I just need access to the library. I'm not here to cause trouble."
The guard crossed his arms. "Rules are rules. Leave before I make you."
For a moment, Sam's patience faltered. He clenched his fists.
He could feel his pendant warming against his chest — a faint hum,
as if his darkness wanted to surge forward and crush the arrogance in front of him.
But he exhaled, steadying himself. "Fine," he said quietly. "I understand."
He turned away, his footsteps slow and heavy.
Behind him, the guards muttered something about "wandering peasants" and "outsiders with strange eyes."
Sam found himself wandering through the city aimlessly until he reached the main square.
He sat down on the edge of a fountain, the water glittering under the afternoon sun.
Around him, life went on — children chasing each other, merchants shouting their prices,
a musician playing soft notes on a silver flute.
Yet to Sam, the sounds felt distant.
He stared at his reflection in the water — the tired eyes, the faint bruise on his cheek,
the boy who had fought monsters and crossed mountains, now stopped by a pair of guards who didn't even care to ask why he was here.
A low sigh escaped his lips. "I'm this close… and still stuck."
His stomach growled quietly. He hadn't eaten properly in days.
The bread he'd carried from the last village was long gone,
and the coins he earned from fixing tools along the road weren't enough for a decent meal in this city.
He leaned back, watching clouds drift over the spires. "Maybe I should just."
The sound of horse hooves cut through the square.
A sleek black carriage, marked with the phoenix crest of House Velrath, rolled to a stop nearby. People immediately stepped aside, bowing as the crest gleamed under the sun. The door opened, and out stepped a familiar face — the captain Sam had rescued days ago in the forest.
The man spotted Sam instantly. "You!" he exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. He strode forward and bowed slightly. "By the gods, I didn't think I'd find you here!"
Sam blinked, surprised. "You're… that soldier from the forest."
"Yes," the captain said quickly, smiling. "I owe you my life — and more than that, the lives of everyone under my command.
Our Duke, His Grace Arvane Velrath, wishes to meet you in person. He wants to thank you properly." Sam tensed. "The Duke… wants to meet me?"
"Yes. He's been looking for you since the attack. Please — it would be an honor to have you as his guest." Sam hesitated. He didn't like the idea of meeting nobles — especially not one powerful enough to have soldiers kneel before him.
But his body was weary, and his stomach churned with hunger. The thought of food, rest, and maybe a safe place for the night was too tempting to ignore.
"All right," Sam said finally. "I'll come."
The captain's face brightened. "Excellent! His Grace will be pleased."
He gestured toward the carriage. The driver opened the door for Sam, and for a brief moment, Sam hesitated on the step —a quiet voice inside him whispering that this was no coincidence. Still, he climbed in.
The interior was lined with velvet, the air faintly perfumed with lavender. Sam sat near the window, watching as the city streets rolled by. Children pointed curiously at the Duke's carriage; merchants bowed as it passed.
For the first time since he'd entered Lavatorian, no one looked at him with suspicion. The captain glanced at him, smiling warmly. "You'll like the Duke, young man. He's a man of wisdom and fairness. He's been looking forward to meeting the hero who saved his convoy."
Sam chuckled softly. "Hero's a strong word. I just did what I had to."
The captain laughed. "Perhaps. But not many could do what you did — even among trained mages."
Sam said nothing, but his gaze drifted toward the pendant again,
the faint pulse beneath his shirt reminding him that the truth was far darker than the captain imagined.
Outside, the carriage began climbing a cobblestone road that led to the noble district,
where great mansions stood behind enchanted gates. At the end of the path loomed the Velrath Manor, a vast estate of black stone and gold-trimmed banners fluttering in the wind.
As they passed through the gates, Sam couldn't help but feel a chill creep down his spine.
There was power here — old, commanding, and quietly watchful. When the carriage stopped, servants rushed to open the doors. The captain stepped out first, motioning for Sam to follow.
"Please," he said, bowing slightly. "His Grace is waiting in the grand hall." Sam nodded, trying to steady his nerves. He stepped out, his boots clicking against the polished marble floor of the courtyard. The air was heavy with the scent of burning incense and blooming roses.
And high above, on the balcony overlooking the manor, Duke Arvane Velrath stood waiting — the same man who had found traces of shadow in the forest. As his gaze fell upon Sam, a faint smile tugged at his lips. "So," he murmured under his breath, "The shadow decides to walk into my house.
The great doors of the Velrath manor creaked open, their polished oak surface engraved with runes that shimmered faintly under the chandelier's light. Sam stepped into the grand hall — a place so vast that his footsteps echoed against the marble pillars. The floor was an intricate mosaic of gold and obsidian, and along the walls hung banners bearing the phoenix sigil of House Velrath.
At the center of the hall stood a man dressed in a dark crimson coat, his presence quiet yet commanding. His hair was streaked with silver, his eyes sharp and intelligent — Duke Arvane Velrath, the leader of one of Lavatorian's seven elite families.
"Welcome," Arvane said, his voice deep and steady. "So you are the young man who saved my men from the Elethels."
Sam bowed slightly. "I just happened to be there, that's all. I did what anyone would have done in that situation."
Arvane's lips curved into a faint smile. "Spoken like a man without pride or agenda. A rare thing, these days."
He gestured toward the long table set with fruit and wine, but Sam didn't move to sit. His posture remained straight, respectful yet cautious.
"You traveled far to reach Lavatorian," Arvane continued. "Surely there must be something you seek here?"
Sam shook his head. "Only answers, my lord."
Arvane studied him for a moment — the way his eyes remained calm, his breathing steady despite standing before one of the most influential men in the realm. There was no arrogance, no desperation, only quiet resolve.
"I see," Arvane said softly. "Then I hope you find what you seek."
Silence settled between them, broken only by the faint hum of the mana lamps. But then Sam's gaze shifted, just slightly — toward the left corridor. His pupils narrowed.
"You have plenty of strong people around you," Sam said suddenly.
Arvane froze mid-motion. "...What do you mean?"
Sam's tone was casual, but his eyes were fixed on the shadow beyond the archway. "Someone's been standing there since I entered. Their aura is faint, but their intent sharp — like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath."
The soldiers stationed near the wall turned instantly, scanning the corridor — but saw nothing. Arvane's brow furrowed. "Impossible. No one"
Before he could finish, soft footsteps echoed through the hall. From the corridor emerged a tall woman dressed in flowing silver robes, her long dark hair cascading like ink. Her eyes, sharp as polished steel, glimmered with amusement.
"So, he noticed me," she said with a graceful smile. "That's impressive."
Arvane's expression softened. "Alice." The soldiers immediately knelt.
Lady Alice Velrath, the Duke's wife — and the second strongest swordmaster in the entire kingdom, surpassed only by the Royal Champion himself.
She approached with elegant poise, every step radiating quiet power. Sam could feel her mana — calm, controlled, and terrifyingly deep, like an ocean hiding its storms.
"I wasn't trying to conceal my presence entirely," she said, smiling at her husband. "Just enough to test him."
Arvane looked between them, still surprised. "And he saw through that?"
Alice nodded, her gaze settling on Sam with genuine interest. "Not just saw — he felt it. Most mages wouldn't notice unless I revealed myself, but this boy…" She tilted her head slightly. "You possess sharp senses for someone so young. Tell me, how old are you?"
Sam hesitated, unsure how to respond to the sudden attention. "Fifteen," he said finally.
A few guards exchanged stunned glances. Even Arvane's composure wavered. "Fifteen?" he repeated.
Alice chuckled softly. "Remarkable. Such perception at that age is… rare."
Her gaze deepened, studying his calm eyes, his steady breathing — as if searching for something beneath the surface. "Who are your parents, child? You must have inherited this gift from somewhere."
The question struck something inside him.
For the first time, Sam's composure cracked. His shoulders stiffened; his eyes dimmed with a shadow of pain.
"I don't have parents," he said quietly. "Not anymore." The hall fell silent. Even the faint hum of the chandeliers seemed to fade.
Sam lowered his head. "Only a maid… more like an elder sister. She raised me when I had no one else. Everything I learned… I owe to her."
Alice's smile softened, her expression no longer that of a warrior testing a stranger, but of a woman recognizing quiet strength in loss. "Then she must be proud of you."
Sam looked away, his throat tightening. "Maybe. If she were still alive to see me now."
Arvane exhaled slowly, the weight of the boy's words lingering in the air. He glanced at Alice, who gave him a subtle nod — a silent message that this was no ordinary child.
Breaking the tension, Arvane stepped closer. "You have my gratitude, Sam. You saved not only my men but my wife's escort as well. If not for you, many lives would have been lost that day."
Sam shook his head. "I just did what I could. Anyone would have."
"Perhaps," Arvane said, a knowing look in his eyes, "but not everyone could."
He gestured for Sam to follow. "Come, the evening meal will be served soon. You must rest — Lavatorian is a city of opportunity, but it can be harsh to newcomers. Consider my home open to you for now."
Sam hesitated again, uncertain if he should accept such generosity, but Alice's soft smile eased his worry. "You've earned at least one night of peace," she said. "Take it."
"…Thank you," Sam murmured.
As he followed them through the grand hallway, the warm glow of torches flickered across his face — half in light, half in shadow.
And from the corner of her eye, Alice studied that flicker carefully.
There was something unnatural about it — something alive in the darkness that danced just beneath his skin.
She said nothing, but her thoughts whispered to Arvane through their shared telepathic bond.
"He's hiding something."
Arvane's reply came quietly.
"I know. But for now… let him hide it."
As the great doors to the dining chamber opened, Sam stepped into a world of light and luxury he'd never known before — unaware that behind the calm smiles of his noble hosts, suspicion had already begun to take root.