The grand dining hall of Velrath Manor shimmered with golden light. Dozens of candles flickered across the long table, their glow reflecting off crystal goblets and silver plates. Portraits of armored ancestors lined the walls, their painted eyes watching every movement in silent judgment.
Sam sat at the far end, feeling uneasy beneath their gaze. He had never seen such wealth — roasted venison, spiced wine, and bread softer than clouds. His every motion felt wrong, his hands clumsy against the gleaming cutlery.
Across from him, Duke Arvane studied the boy with calm curiosity, while his wife, Lady Alice, wore a gentle smile that didn't quite hide the sharpness in her eyes.
"You're not used to noble customs, are you?" Arvane asked kindly.
Sam hesitated. "No, sir. I've never eaten like this before."
Alice chuckled softly. "Then take your time. Lavatorian doesn't demand perfection from its guests."
Sam gave a faint nod and began eating quietly, though he could feel their eyes on him. Every word he spoke, every small movement he made — the Duke noticed everything. There was precision in him, quiet restraint.
Arvane leaned forward slightly. "You fought bravely against the Elethels. Tell me, who trained you?"
Sam paused, setting his fork down. "No one, sir. Just… self-defense. To protect myself and others if I have to."
The Duke's brow lifted. "Self-defense, you say? You fought with remarkable control for someone without a teacher."
Alice added, "Most men panic before those creatures. You didn't even flinch."
Sam's gaze fell to his plate. "There wasn't time to be afraid."
Arvane exchanged a small smile with his wife. "Courage born of instinct, then. Admirable."
For a moment, silence reigned. The only sound was the soft crackle of the torches and the whisper of the wind against stained-glass windows.
Then Arvane's voice dropped slightly. "There's something unusual about you, Sam. Your presence feels... heavy, yet calm. Like the air bends differently around you."
Sam froze. His heart skipped once, but he forced a small, polite smile. "I wouldn't know about that, sir."
Alice leaned forward, eyes sharp yet kind. "You're not in trouble. We're simply curious. You feel… different."
Sam's hand brushed the pendant beneath his shirt. "I was born different. I've always felt like something inside me doesn't belong in this world."
Arvane's expression softened. "And does that frighten you?"
He shook his head. "No. I just want to understand it."
The Duke smiled faintly. "A wise desire for someone so young. Most men chase power before they ever seek to understand it."
Before Sam could reply, a servant whispered something into Alice's ear. She rose gracefully, her silver hair gleaming in the candlelight. "My husband often tests his knights in the courtyard. Perhaps you'd like to see it, Sam? A friendly demonstration, nothing more."
Sam hesitated. Lisa's warning echoed in his mind — "Never reveal your darkness to others."
Still, he nodded. "If it's just a demonstration, I'll try."
The Courtyard
Moonlight spilled across the training ground, glinting off steel racks and dummies. Sam stood opposite Alice, a wooden sword in hand. She smiled lightly. "Don't hold back too much. I'll know if you do."
The first clash of blades echoed through the courtyard. Clang! Sparks flared. Alice's movements were fluid and sharp, honed by years of mastery. Sam met her strike with precision, his instincts guiding him more than thought.
He moved faster than he should have been able to — ducking, parrying, twisting his body with seamless flow. Their spar became a blur of motion until, with a single pivot, Sam disarmed her. The wooden blade hovered inches from her throat.
The soldiers gasped. Arvane stood, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
Then Alice smiled, lowering her sword. "Impressive. You're far beyond your years."
Sam quickly stepped back. "Forgive me, my lady. I didn't mean"
She waved it off. "Don't apologize for skill. Tell me, who taught you this style?"
He hesitated. "No one. I just… move how it feels right."
Her gaze lingered, sharp as a blade. "Your eyes changed for a moment," she said softly. "Black as night. Fascinating."
Sam's heart thudded, but before he could respond, Arvane approached, his voice calm yet probing. "You remind me of a man I once fought beside — one who moved through shadows like they obeyed him."
Sam looked down, the pendant under his shirt pulsing faintly.
"Perhaps," Arvane continued, "you'll tell me more about where you come from someday. For now, Lavatorian welcomes you. Rest well, Sam."
Sam nodded quietly. But as he turned toward his room, a strange unease filled him. He could feel their eyes following him — not with malice, but with curiosity and caution.
And far above, in the dark rafters of the manor, a raven watched with glowing crimson eyes — silent, patient, and aware that the child of shadows had finally stepped into the light.
The night after the spar felt endless. Sam lay awake in the grand guest chamber, unable to sleep. The whispers of the manor — creaking wood, the faint hoot of an owl, the sigh of the wind — all pressed against his restless thoughts.
Arvane's words still echoed in his mind: "You remind me of a man I once fought beside — one who moved through shadows like they obeyed him."
But elsewhere in the manor, another conversation was unfolding.
The Duke's Study
Alice stood by the tall window, moonlight washing her pale features in silver. "Arvane," she said softly, "earlier… you mentioned a man who fought in shadows. Who were you talking about? There was no such person among your companies."
Arvane, seated behind his desk, swirled the crimson wine in his goblet. His lips curved into a knowing smile. "I lied."
Alice turned sharply. "You what?"
"I wanted to see how he'd react," Arvane replied, eyes glinting under the lamplight. "That boy's strength is beyond natural training, and his eyes — did you notice them? The brief shift, black as the void? No ordinary swordsman can do that."
Alice frowned, folding her arms. "So you were testing him, even after he proved he meant no harm?"
"I know he doesn't wish us harm," Arvane said calmly, setting his goblet down. "But I needed to confirm something."
Alice's voice softened with concern. "And what is it you wish to confirm now?"
The Duke rose, his gaze distant, thoughtful. "You'll know tomorrow."
He left the study without another word, his footsteps fading into the echoing halls, leaving Alice staring after him — torn between curiosity and unease.
When Sam awoke, the first thing he noticed was the light. Golden beams spilled through the large windows, bathing the room in warmth. He pushed himself up, still disoriented from the softness of the bed — a luxury he hadn't felt in years.
As he drew the curtains fully, his breath caught.
Before him stretched the heart of Lavatorian towers rising like silver spears, rooftops glittering with dew, and in the distance, the soft shimmer of the Azure Lake reflecting the morning sun. Birds soared above, their calls blending with the hum of the waking city.
For the first time in a long while, Sam smiled. The chaos of the road, the forest, the blood and dust all felt distant. He allowed himself a moment to breathe.
So this is what peace looks like, he thought.
A knock came at the door, soft but precise.
"Come in," Sam said, straightening his shirt.
A young maid entered, her hands folded neatly. "Good morning, sir. Madam Alice requests your presence in the garden. She is waiting for you."
Sam nodded. "Thank you. I'll be there shortly."
She bowed and quietly left, her footsteps fading down the corridor.
The garden was unlike anything Sam had ever seen. Marble paths wound through lush greenery, lined with lavender and wild roses whose fragrance drifted on the cool breeze. A small pond mirrored the sky, and delicate silver-leafed trees swayed gently beside it.
At the center stood a stone gazebo draped in vines, sunlight spilling through its open arches. Lady Alice sat there, a pot of steaming tea before her, her posture graceful and poised.
When Sam approached, she looked up and smiled warmly. "Good morning, Sam. I hope you slept well."
He gave a small nod, his voice quiet but steady. "Yes, my lady. Better than I have in months."
"Good," she said, gesturing for him to sit. "The city's morning air is refreshing, isn't it?"
Sam took in the tranquil beauty around him the sound of running water, the songs of birds, the scent of tea mingling with flowers. "It's peaceful," he said softly. "Almost unreal."
Alice poured him a cup of tea and pushed it gently toward him. "Lavatorian can be deceptive that way. It shows peace on the surface, but underneath, it hides things even the nobles prefer to ignore."
Sam looked up, meeting her eyes. "Is that why you wanted to see me?"
Alice paused, her expression softening, though a hint of unease lingered. She clasped her hands together, as if weighing her words carefully.
"Partly," she said finally. "But there's another reason."
Sam tilted his head slightly. "What reason?"
Alice took a slow breath, her gaze fixed on him with quiet intensity.
"I'd like to ask you for a favor, Sam."