The sun broke through the dense clouds over House Vaelthorn's western training ground, casting pale gold light across the field where dust and sweat mingled with steel. The rhythmic sound of clashing blades echoed against the estate's stone walls.
Kael stood on a raised platform, arms crossed, watching as the first trials began. The Lion's Teeth were being tested—not just in skill, but in instinct. In resilience.
"Number Thirty-Two, disqualified."
"Number Nineteen, blood loss. Remove him."
"Next pair—engage!"
Kael remained silent, his face impassive, even as a boy no older than sixteen was thrown into the mud by Thessa's brutal sweep. She didn't hold back. No one did. That was the rule.
Behind Kael, Rin watched with a frown from a second platform, her gaze darting between the fights and her brother.
"This is harsh," she muttered. "They're just recruits."
"They're soldiers," Kael replied without looking. "If I treat them like children, they'll die like children."
Lyra approached from the manor, a folded scroll in her hands. "Message from Lady Serentha," she said, handing it over. "She's requested an audience. Tonight."
Kael took the scroll, broke the wax seal—bearing the Velcras sigil, a coiled serpent devouring its tail—and scanned the contents.
"She wants to speak... alone. No guards. No magic barriers."
Rin's head snapped toward him. "She wants you unguarded? That's a trap."
"Of course it is," Kael murmured, folding the scroll. "But it's a polite one. And I need to see how far the strings go."
---
That Night – Garden of Twilight Leaves
The twilight garden was a sacred place on the Vaelthorn estate—enchanted to always reflect the colors of dusk. Purple petals drifted on the wind, falling into shallow pools of still water. Torches flickered, but the flames were silent.
Kael arrived alone, dressed simply, his sword left behind. Lady Serentha stood by the marble pond, dressed in a red gown that shimmered with serpentine scales. Her hair was bound in loops of crimson silk, and a ring with a swirling black gem adorned her left hand.
"You came," she said softly. "Good. I dislike cowards."
"I dislike cryptic visitors," Kael replied evenly. "You spoke of debt. Of awakening. Explain."
Serentha turned to face him fully. "Three centuries ago, your ancestor Caine Vaelthorn made a pact with us. In exchange for forbidden knowledge, he sealed away a fragment of something buried deep within your bloodline. Something ancient. Something other."
Kael's brow tightened. "What was it?"
"Even he didn't know." She stepped closer, her eyes glowing faintly under the moonlight. "But the pact ensured it would remain dormant. Until the bloodline produced a vessel strong enough to bear it."
Her voice lowered.
"That vessel is you."
A gust of wind passed. The pond rippled.
Kael's voice was steel. "Why now?"
"Because you're dreaming things that were never yours. Speaking truths you were never taught. Drawing magic that doesn't obey the world's rules." She tilted her head. "You've felt it, haven't you? A second pulse in your mana. A whisper in moments of silence."
Kael didn't answer.
Serentha smiled. "You're cracking. And when you do, the pact's price will be due."
Kael stepped forward, eyes cold. "And what do you want, Serentha? Power? My allegiance? Or my corpse?"
"None," she said. "I want the same thing your ancestor wanted—control."
She extended her hand.
"Join the Velcras Circle. We will teach you what you are. Or walk away, Kael Vaelthorn—and wait for the storm you cannot outrun."
---
Elsewhere – A Secret Gathering in the North Wing
Unbeknownst to Kael, three members of the Vaelthorn family council gathered in a shadowed room deep within the estate. Albrecht, Cirelle, and a third—Lord Gennard—sat around a black-iron table. A sigil of thorns and broken wings burned in the center.
"He trains a private army," Cirelle hissed. "And entertains dark visitors. Do we let this go unchecked?"
Albrecht's eyes gleamed. "We provoke him now, and we fracture the house. The nobles whisper already. But if he stumbles..."
"We cut him down." Gennard's voice was like gravel. "Then raise the next heir. The girl, Rin. She's pliable."
"She's not a weapon," Cirelle warned. "But Kael—he's becoming something worse than a weapon. He's becoming aware."
They all fell silent.
Outside the room, a figure crouched in the rafters—hidden, listening. It was Rin.
Her eyes wide. Her fists clenched.
---
Later That Night – Kael's Chamber
Kael sat at his desk again, pouring over the scroll Serentha gave him after their meeting—an old ritual. A binding incantation woven in a language he had never seen, yet somehow could almost read.
Lyra entered quietly, holding a velvet-wrapped package.
"I had this retrieved," she said, placing it on the desk. "It's from the old vault under your name. Left by your father before he departed."
Kael opened it.
Inside was a blade—not a sword, but a dagger. Black as pitch. The hilt bore no crest, only runes that shimmered faintly in red.
The moment he touched it, his pulse doubled.
Lyra noticed. "What is it?"
Kael didn't answer.
Instead, he stared into the dagger's edge as if it reflected something deeper than his face.
Something hidden.
Something… waiting.
---
End of Chapter 55