A mighty roar echoed through the sky. Kaira, the White Wind Dragon, appeared, gliding toward the castle of Draven.
The people of the kingdom looked up, shouting, "The great white dragon! The Patriarch has returned!"
Horses neighed, and curious whispers spread. Among the elite guards of House Dravenir, the Patriarch moved steadily, nodding to those who greeted him as he made his way into the castle.
Kaira landed gracefully in the courtyard of castle Draven. The elders of the house were already assembled, bowing deeply.
"The elders of House Draven greet the Familiar of the First Patriarch," one intoned.
Kaira's gaze swept over them, but she did not halt. Only when she had passed behind them did the elders lift their heads, cautious respect mingling with relief.
Seraphiel entered with his elite guards. His eyes caught Kaira moving among the courtyard, and the elders waiting with deference. He walked toward them, his presence commanding silence.
"What brings the elders of the five esteemed families of Draven together in the courtyard?" he asked, voice steady.
"Greetings, Lord Seraphiel," replied the elder of House Thalos. "We trust your journey has met with success."
"Yes, Elder Thalos," Seraphiel replied. "Let us not linger here. Head inside; I shall join you shortly."
"Lord Raphiel," said the elder of House Dravenir, stroking his beard, "Kaira seems… displeased, from what I can see."
"You know she still does not fully listen to me," Seraphiel said, his eyes following the dragon. "I was not the one she first chose as Patriarch, after all."
"It may be so, Lord Seraphiel," Elder Elyndor said, "but your brother's strength was never meant to rule alone. He understood that. Which is why he entrusted the kingdom to you."
He inclined his head slightly.
"Strength can conquer. Judgment is what preserves."
Seraphiel's lips curved in a brief smile. "You flatter me, Elder Elyndor."
The elders proceeded inside. Seraphiel remained for a moment, his gaze fixed on Kaira, before finally turning to enter the castle himself.
"They suck up to me too much, don't they, Lucas?"
"Elder Elyndor likely hopes you grant his son a place in the Black Squad," Lucas replied.
"The Black Squad is for the strongest alone. If he wishes to join, let him earn it by his own strength, not by his name," Seraphiel said, voice cold and firm.
Seraphiel entered the castle. His wife and children awaited him at the dining table.
Vlad, the youngest, ran forward eagerly.
"Father, welcome back!" he called.
Seraphiel looked down, head held high.
"Move."
Vlad froze. Slowly, he lowered his head, fighting back tears, clutching his clothes tightly.
Seraphiel advanced, Lucas stepped back, patting Vlad's head in quiet comfort.
"Greetings, Father," Cassian and Maelis said in unison.
"Has Lysera not returned?" Seraphiel asked.
"No, Father. Elder sister remains on her patronage," Cassian replied.
Vlad watched them from a distance.
"Let's eat, then."
His wife, Elarys, was already waiting inside.
"Greetings to the matriarch," Lucas said.
"Greetings, Lucas," Elarys replied.
Seraphiel sat, and they continued their conversation over the meal.
Cassian spoke of his latest achievements, while Maelis shared how she had learned advanced magic.
Vlad remained silent, thinking to himself, If I join the Black Squad, maybe Father will speak to me too.
The door opened with a sharp creak as Seraphiel's older brother entered.
"Raphiel, we need to talk," Aldric said.
"I don't have time. The elders are waiting in the courtroom," Seraphiel replied.
Aldric stepped closer. "You'll meet me in the courtyard after you finish eating."
Seraphiel said nothing and continued his meal.
"Uncle, are you not going to eat with us?" Vlad asked.
"Sorry, Vlad. I have something important to do. I'll join you for dinner, I promise," Aldric replied.
"Sucking up to Uncle as always," Cassian muttered, and Maelis giggled in agreement.
Aldric walked out first. Seraphiel finished his meal and followed, Lucas at his side.
"Lucas, you should stay here," Seraphiel said.
Seraphiel entered the courtyard. Aldric was waiting, Kaira standing beside him.
"What is it, Aldric?" Seraphiel asked.
"It's about Valeren," Aldric replied.
"Did the black Squad report any movements?" Seraphiel asked.
"Erik went alone this time. Valeren has made a pact with the fire dragon Kaiser."
"So they are gathering power," Seraphiel said, frowning.
Aldric and Seraphiel stood side by side. Kaira walked up to Aldric and lowered her head; he patted her gently.
"Kaira is quite affectionate with you, isn't she, brother?" Seraphiel remarked.
"Everyone treats Kaira as Aurelion Dravenir, the First Patriarch's Familiar," Aldric said. "But Aurelion never made a pact with her. She stayed with the family to protect the descendants of her dear friend. Her loyalty is love, not obligation."
"Not knowing that everyone tries to control her, she will never bow to power. I suggest you stop wasting your time trying, brother," Aldric added.
Seraphiel sighed. "I will meet with the elders and address the matter."
"Don't say anything for now. I do not fully trust the elders," Aldric warned.
"Do you realize what you are suggesting?" Seraphiel said quietly.
Does anyone among the Five Families dare to oppose Aldric Dravenir?
"Do nothing unnecessary, brother," Seraphiel said, sighing.
"Worry about yourself," Aldric replied.
Seraphiel nodded and began walking toward the courtroom.
"Raphiel," Aldric called after him, "you should be a little nicer to Vlad."
"You know the situation, Aldric," Seraphiel replied without looking back.
He opened the courtroom doors. The elders were in discussion.
"Have you been waiting long?" he asked.
"No, my lord," they replied.
"Then let us speak."
The doors shut behind him.
After Aldric left the courtyard, he wandered through the quiet corridors, a book clutched in his hand. The castle gardens stretched out before him, There, sitting alone on a stone bench, was Vlad.
"Vlad, what are you doing here, sitting by yourself?" Aldric asked as he approached.
Vlad slowly turned. "Uncle Aldric…"
Cuts streaked his face.
Aldric crouched in front of him, examining the wounds.
"What happened to your face?"
"It's nothing… I just fell down the stairs," Vlad said, forcing a calm tone.
Aldric knew he was lying.
"Let me heal you. Look straight at me."
"Thank you, Uncle," Vlad whispered.
"I'll teach you some healing magic. Your mana is low, so you won't be able to fully close the wounds yet, but it'll come in handy," Aldric explained.
Vlad smiled faintly. "I'll join the Black Squad and get stronger, so you won't have to worry about me all the time uncle."
Aldric laughed. "I'm sure you will," he said, patting Vlad's head.
He glanced at the book in his hand.
"Here. Take this book. It's about the First Patriarch's journey."
"No… I can't take it. It's yours. If I take it, what will you read?" Vlad said kindly, hesitating.
"It's a gift from me. Take it," Aldric insisted.
"I will cherish it, then," Vlad said, grinning, and ran off laughing.
Aldric waved after him, muttering to himself,
"If only you weren't of Dravenir blood… you might have been happier."
Aldric looked up at the sky. Dusk had settled in, the light fading fast.
"Come out," he said calmly.
"I can't hide from you, can I?" Erik stepped out from behind a tree.
"Did you speak with the Patriarch?" Erik asked.
"Yes."
"Then the mission?"
"Put it on hold for now."
"As you command, Lord Aldric."
Aldric paused. "Erik… do you know what happened to Vlad?"
"You mean his wounds?"
"Yes."
"Young Master Vlad was beaten by Cassian's followers at the training grounds this evening."
"So he's been going there," Aldric muttered.
"Yes, my lord. I've been watching him for days. Young Master Vlad has remarkable stamina, but his mana is still weak for a Dravenir. No matter how hard he trains, his path will only grow harsher as he ages."
Aldric let out a quiet sigh. "You may return to the quarters."
Erik vanished into the darkness without a sound.
Night fully settled over the castle.
Vlad ran through the corridors, heading toward his mother's chambers.
Vlad stopped outside his mother's chambers, hesitating before knocking.
"Come in," Elarys said.
Vlad entered, holding the book close to his chest.
"Mother… are you busy?"
Elarys looked up from her writing. "Never for you."
Vlad stepped closer and carefully placed the book on her table.
"Uncle gave me this. He said it's about the First Patriarch."
Elarys's gaze softened as she picked it up.
"Aurelion Dravenir," she said. "Your uncle always favored this story."
"Will you… read it to me?" Vlad asked quietly.
Elarys smiled and motioned for him to sit beside her. Vlad climbed onto the seat, leaning slightly toward her.
She opened the book and began to read. Her voice was calm, steady, filling the room with warmth.
Vlad listened closely, eyes fixed on the pages.
Elarys paused and gently brushed his hair back.
"Mother," Vlad asked softly, "can I become strong too… like the First Patriarch?"
Elarys looked at him for a moment, then smiled. She rested a hand on his head.
"Yes, my dear," she said quietly. "You will become strong—stronger than anyone."
She continued reading, slower now, until Vlad's grip on the book loosened and his breathing evened out.
Elarys closed the book and rested a hand on his head.
"Sleep well, Vlad," she whispered.
"Are you not coming inside?" Elarys asked softly.
Seraphiel entered the room. His gaze fell on Vlad, asleep on Elarys's lap. He reached out and gently brushed Vlad's hair aside.
"He probably hates me now, doesn't he?" Seraphiel said.
Elarys shook her head. "Vlad wouldn't hate anyone. He's a kind child."
"I can't stand seeing him get hurt," Seraphiel said, lowering his head. "But if I show him favor, every eye aiming for the throne will turn toward him."
His voice dropped.
"I don't want him to be strong. I just want him to be happy."
Elarys pulled him into a quiet embrace.
"Everything will be fine."
Morning light crept through the curtains.
Vlad stirred, eyes fluttering open. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Then he felt the blanket pulled up neatly around him and smelled the faint trace of ink and parchment.
Mother's room…
He sat up quietly, careful not to wake her, and slipped out.
The castle was already awake. Servants moved through the halls, and distant clashing echoed from the training grounds.
Vlad tightened his grip and changed direction.
The training ground was nearly empty at this hour. Dew still clung to the earth.
Vlad stood alone, closing his eyes. He placed a hand over his chest and focused, breathing slowly.
Mana stirred—weak, uneven, but present.
He tried to gather it, again and again. Sweat formed at his brow as the flow faltered. His knees trembled, yet he did not stop.
From the edge of the grounds, unseen, Erik watched.
The boy's control was poor. His output was small.
But he did not quit.
Erik folded his arms, eyes narrowing slightly.
"He's training again," he muttered.
Just as Erik turned to leave, footsteps echoed across the training grounds.
Cassian stepped in, Riven Thalos and Maeric Elyndor close behind him.
They stopped when they noticed Vlad sitting alone near the edge of the field, eyes closed, trying to gather his mana.
"The worthless scum is training again," Cassian said, his lips twisting in disgust.
Riven snorted. "He really doesn't know his place."
Maeric laughed openly.
Vlad didn't respond. His breathing remained steady, shoulders tense as he tried to force the thin stream of mana to move the way he wanted.
The insults continued.
Erik slowed his steps.
Cassian's smile faded. "You dare ignore me?" he snapped.
He tilted his head slightly. Riven and Maeric moved at once.
A sharp kick slammed into Vlad's back.
Vlad was sent sprawling, his body rolling across the dirt. Dust clung to his clothes and skin.
Laughter erupted.
"Look at him," Riven said.
"Pathetic," Maeric added.
They closed in, voices piling on, mocking and cruel.
Erik stepped onto the training ground.
"Attacking someone from behind," he said coldly, "seems a little cowardly, Young Master Cassian."
The laughter stopped.
Cassian crouched beside Vlad and leaned close, his voice low.
"Stop embarrassing yourself," he whispered. "No matter how much you train, you'll always be weak."
Vlad looked at him. His voice was quiet.
"Mother said… I can become strong too."
Cassian burst out laughing. He stood, brushing dust from his sleeves.
"My apologies," he said casually to Erik. "For showing you my little brother's sorry state."
He turned away.
"Let's go," Cassian said.
Riven and Maeric followed him out.
Vlad remained on the ground.
"You should leave as well, Young Master Vlad," Erik said after a moment.
Vlad slowly pushed himself up, brushing dirt from his clothes.
"Thank you, Captain Erik," he said. "I'll go after training a little more."
Erik already knew insisting would change nothing.
"…As you wish," he said. "I'll leave you to it."
He turned and walked away.
Vlad stood still for a moment, staring up at the sky. Then he sat down again and resumed training.
From the shadows, Riven lingered.
Once Erik disappeared, Riven slipped away.
"Is the captain gone?" Cassian asked.
"Yes," Riven replied. "Vlad's still there. Training alone."
Cassian smirked.
"Good. Let's teach him a lesson," he said. "One he won't forget."
Riven and Maeric grinned.
They waited near the edge of the training grounds, hidden between broken pillars and shadowed walls.
Vlad finished his practice in silence. His breathing was uneven, his clothes damp with sweat as he turned to leave.
As he passed the outer path,Cassian shoved him hard.
Vlad stumbled back, nearly falling.
Cassian smirked.
"Running off already?"
Riven snorted.
"Guess training got too scary for him."
Vlad's chest tightened. He looked at their faces three of them, blocking the path.
His instincts screamed.
He turned and ran.
"Hey—!" Cassian shouted. "Don't run!"
Footsteps thundered behind him.
"Stop!" Maeric yelled. "Where do you think you're going?!"
Vlad ran as fast as he could. His breath tore from his lungs, vision blurring as panic took over. Tears burned his eyes, but he didn't slow down.
Cassian clicked his tongue.
"Tch. Annoying."
Heat flared behind him.
Cassian flicked his fingers, forming a small fireball and hurling it forward.
The ground ahead scorched, flames crawling low across the dirt. Vlad cried out and swerved aside. Heat licked at his boots, slowing him just enough for their laughter to catch up.
Cassian laughed loudly.
"Run faster, little brother!"
Vlad's legs burned. His heart felt like it might burst.
He didn't look back.
He bolted toward the trees behind the castle—the dense forest rising before him like a wall.
Branches tore at his sleeves as he plunged inside. Roots caught his feet, leaves and shadows blinding him. He ran blindly, sobbing, desperate to escape their voices.
Slowly, the shouting faded.
The forest swallowed him whole.
Cassian and the others stopped at the forest's edge, breathing hard.
Cassian straightened, brushing dirt from his sleeve.
"He sure runs fast."
Riven glanced into the dark trees.
"This is Greywood."
Cassian smirked.
"Let's go back. If he's lucky, someone will find him before the monsters do."
They turned away, heading back toward the castle.
Vlad finally stopped when his legs gave out.
He looked back—no footsteps, no voices.
He sank down at the base of a tall tree, shoulders shaking as he cried.
Blood trickled from scrapes on his arms and knees.
He closed his eyes, hands trembling, and focused.
A faint warmth gathered as he used the healing magic Aldric had taught him. It wasn't enough to fully heal the wounds, but the bleeding slowed.
Vlad stood still beneath the dark canopy of the forest, chest rising and falling too fast. Every direction looked the same—twisted roots, thick trunks, shadows piled upon shadows.
He wiped his face with his sleeve and turned slowly, panic creeping back in.
Which way…?
At the same time, the courtyard of Castle Draven was tense with quiet voices.
Seraphiel stood with Erik and Aldric, the light of evening fading above them.
Seraphiel looked to Erik. "What did you wanted to discuss."
Erik bowed his head slightly. "The Black Squad discovered an abandoned tent near the eastern forest. No markings, but the traces suggest Valeren movement. If spies have crossed the border, they did so carefully."
"Is he trying to break the treaty we made together with kaishen," Seraphiel said.
"I afraid so," Erik replied.
Aldric folded his arms. "I suspect help from within. One of the elders may be feeding them information."
Seraphiel frowned. "That is a serious accusation."
"I know," Aldric said calmly. "That's why I haven't spoken it aloud until now."
Footsteps approached. Elarys entered the courtyard, her expression tight with worry.
"Forgive me for interrupting," she said, then looked directly at Aldric. "Brother… have you seen Vlad anywhere today?"
Aldric shook his head. "I haven't."
"He may still be at the training grounds," Erik offered.
Elarys's brows drew together. "He never stays that late."
Erik hesitated, then asked, "Has Young Master Cassian returned?"
"Yes," Elarys replied. "He finished training earlier. Why do you ask?"
Erik waved it off quickly. "Nothing. There was… a small disagreement during training."
Seraphiel sighed. "Siblings quarrel all the time. Let's not jump to conclusions."
Aldric didn't respond at once. His gaze stayed fixed on Erik.
"Was Cassian alone with Vlad?" he asked quietly.
Erik swallowed. "No. Riven Thalos and Maeric Elyndor were with him."
Aldric exhaled slowly. "Summon them. Now."
Seraphiel turned sharply. "Brother, what are you planning? He may have simply fallen asleep at the grounds."
"Vlad would never waste training time like that," Aldric said flatly.
Moments later, Erik returned with Riven and Maeric. Both boys bowed stiffly.
"Greetings to the Patriarch," they said in unison.
Aldric stepped forward and lowered himself slightly so he was level with them.
"Have either of you seen Vlad today?" he asked, his tone calm.
Both shook their heads.
"No, my lord," Maeric said quickly.
Riven nodded, but his knees trembled.
Aldric straightened. He already knew the answer.
"Very well," he said gently. "You may go."
Maeric turned at once and hurried away.
Riven didn't move.
His breathing grew shallow.
Aldric noticed and crouched again. "You're still here," he said softly. "Why?"
Riven's voice broke. "Lord Aldric… I might know where Vlad is."
Maeric hissed from a distance, "Riven—!"
Riven swallowed hard. "He ran into the Greywood Forest. We didn't chase him. He… he ran on his own."
The courtyard went still.
Erik's face drained of color.
"The Greywood?" he whispered. "That's where we found the abandoned tent."
Elarys staggered. Her strength gave out, and Seraphiel caught her before she fell.
Aldric turned sharply and shouted, "Kaira!"
The sky roared in response.
Wings beat the air as the White Wind Dragon descended.
Aldric mounted her without hesitation.
Seraphiel looked to Erik. "Assemble the Black Squad. Now."
"Yes, my lord."
Kaira surged toward the Greywood Forest.
And far beneath that dark canopy, a small, frightened boy stood alone, unaware which way to go.
Vlad moved through the forest with unsteady steps, searching desperately for a way out. The trees seemed endless, their shadows pressing in from every side. Every snap of a branch made his breath hitch.
I just need to find the road… just one path…
Then—voices.
Low. Rough. Adult.
Hope flared in his chest.
Vlad hurried toward the sound, pushing through brush until the trees thinned into a small clearing. Three men stood there, cloaks dark, weapons resting easily at their sides.
The moment they saw him, the talking stopped.
Kael frowned.
"Who's this kid?"
Bran squinted at Vlad's clothes.
"Look at him. Dravenir colors. A noble brat."
Vlad froze. His heart dropped. He took a step back.
Kael glanced at the man in the center.
"What do we do, Captain?"
Vorren didn't hesitate.
"Kill him. If he gets out, our position's exposed."
Panic hit all at once.
Vlad turned to run—but his legs gave out. Exhaustion caught him in a single cruel moment. He stumbled and hit the ground hard, breath tearing from his lungs.
Footsteps closed in.
Metal scraped as Bran reached for his sword.
"Don't," Vorren snapped. "No blades. That'll leave marks."
He looked down at Vlad coldly.
"Beat him until he can't run. If something finds him out here, they'll say it was a monster."
Kael laughed.
"Smart."
Hands grabbed Vlad by the front of his clothes and yanked him up.
"I—please—" Vlad tried to speak.
A punch struck his face. Pain burst white behind his eyes. He cried out as he was thrown back into the dirt.
"Shut him up," Kael said.
Another kick landed. Vlad curled in on himself, shaking, tears spilling freely.
"Please… let me go…" he sobbed.
No one listened.
Bran grabbed his arm and twisted. Pain tore through him, sharp and unbearable. Vlad screamed.
"Cover his mouth!" Vorren barked.
Vlad's world shrank to pain and fear. Curled on the ground, voice breaking, he cried,
"Father… help me… it hurts…"
A distant roar rolled through the forest.
The sound of wings.
Vorren stiffened and looked up.
"That's enough," he said. "He won't survive out here anyway. Monsters'll finish it. Let's move before someone notices."
Kael landed one last kick.
The three of them turned their backs on him, laughter echoing through the trees as they lingered nearby.
Vlad lay still.
Pain came in waves. His breathing grew shallow. The forest sounds faded, replaced by ringing silence.
Then—
"Wake up, my child."
The voice was calm. Too calm.
Vlad opened his eyes.
He lay on still water stretching endlessly in every direction, reflecting a pale, empty sky. The forest was gone. The pain was gone.
A figure crouched beside him, its shape unclear—like a memory given form.
"Are you going to let them leave just like that?" it asked.
Vlad swallowed.
"What else can I do? I can't even stand. Even if I could… I'm weak. If I die here, no one would be surprised."
The figure hummed.
"Is that so?"
It tilted its head.
"Then perhaps my friend can help you."
"Have you heard of Sylvie?"
Vlad's eyes widened.
"Sylvie… the First Patriarch's spirit companion."
The figure laughed softly.
"You are more knowledgeable than you appear."
A small white light bloomed in its hand. With a snap, it condensed, pure and gentle. The figure pressed it against Vlad's chest.
"Please," it said quietly, "take care of my friend."
The light sank into him.
"Now," the figure said, rising, "get up."
Vlad gasped.
The water vanished.
The forest rushed back—cold air, pain, sound.
Laughter echoed ahead.
Vlad pushed himself up with his right arm. His left hung uselessly, pain flaring as it moved.
But something was different.
The wind brushed his skin—soft, responsive. It gathered around his fingers when he focused.
Ahead, Vorren and the others were still visible between the trees.
Vlad lifted his hand, gripping the air as if it were solid.
"Wind spear," he whispered.
He thrust his hand forward.
The air split.
Kael turned.
"Huh? Captain, did you—"
Vorren staggered. His eyes went wide as he looked down, breath leaving him in a broken gasp. He collapsed where he stood.
Bran froze.
Through the hollow torn through Vorren's chest, he saw him—
Vlad.
Bloodied. Shaking. Barely standing.
And yet, through the dirt and blood, one thing stood out.
His ruby-red eye gleamed sharply in the shadows, fixed on them with an unyielding light.
High above the forest, Kaira stiffened mid-flight.
She felt it.
Mana—faint, unsteady, yet undeniably familiar.
It was not the child's presence that reached her, but something deeper.
The echo of a spirit she had once flown beside.
The presence of her long-lost spirit friend.
Her roar shattered the sky as she dove.
"Damn it!" Bran shouted. "We should've killed him!"
They rushed Vlad, mana flaring around their weapons.
Vlad raised his arm again, slower now.
"Tempest of—"
He coughed. Blood spilled from his lips. His strength failed, and he dropped to one knee.
Bran swung for his neck.
The ground trembled.
A shadow fell.
Kaira's claw came down in an instant.
Bran was crushed before he could scream.
Aldric's voice followed immediately after.
"Incinerate."
Fire surged past Vlad, swallowing the last Valeren scout as he tried to flee. His scream was cut short.
Aldric landed beside Vlad, already moving.
"Vlad—!"
Healing magic poured from his hands, frantic and strained. It wasn't enough.
Aldric gathered him up and mounted Kaira.
"To the castle," he ordered.
As they rose, Aldric's thoughts raced.
That spell… that stance…
Tempest of Ruin.
Vlad shouldn't have been able to form it. If he had finished—
The entire Greywood Forest would have been erased.
And that posture…
Aldric clenched his jaw.
He knew it.
The stance used by the First Patriarch—
the very one recorded in the book he had given Vlad.
He pulled Vlad closer, healing magic never stopping.
"Please," he whispered, voice tight,
"hang on, Vlad…"