For Zoris, everything that happened today felt like a dream.
His plan had gone smoothly, he had failed to steal.
He could have argued that he simply accidentally bumped into the noble lady, but he knew such a defense was pointless. Even if it truly had been an accident, a noble could easily twist it into theft.
He hadn't hoped to succeed. If he failed and was caught, he would become a slave.
But becoming a slave at least meant he wouldn't have to worry about starving to death on the streets of Lochos.
As for whether he could repay his debt and regain his citizenship, Zoris had long since stopped thinking about that. He just wanted to survive.
From the conversation of his new masters, Zoris learned their names,
Perturabo, Calliphone, Caelan.
Zoris followed his master through the market in a daze. Perturabo was a pragmatist; he wouldn't spend money on things he didn't need.
Calliphone didn't buy anything either. She pouted, clearly unhappy.
It wasn't until Caelan gave her an exquisite silver hairpin that the girl finally smiled again.
She even stole a glance at Perturabo, a hint of slyness in her eyes.
As dusk deepened, Zoris followed his masters away from the residential district.
He had thought these noble masters would stop at one of the imposing aristocratic mansions on the hillside, but they walked straight through the entire aristocratic quarter.
When even the majestic temples were left behind, the boy's breathing quickened unconsciously.
It was only when the magnificent royal palace stood before him that Zoris finally awoke from his daze. His masters weren't nobles, they were royalty!
The sound of the palace gates slowly opening startled the dazed boy. He instinctively tried to follow but was stopped by two crossed spears.
"He's with us."
Perturabo's voice wasn't loud, but it made the guards exchange a hesitant glance. They immediately lowered their weapons.
While allowing a stranger into the palace was a serious dereliction of duty, they were in no position to stop Perturabo or question his decision. They could only report the matter to the Tyrant afterward.
Zoris stared at the open gates, his throat suddenly tightening. Still, he stumbled after Perturabo.
Was this a place he could even come to? Who exactly had he nearly bumped into?!
Perturabo pushed open a door. "You'll stay here. I'll come for you tomorrow. Don't wander off."
He turned and left without a second glance at the boy.
Zoris stared blankly at Perturabo's retreating back. His master hadn't even asked which district he came from, who his parents were, nor had there been any trial in the citizens' court. He was his master's slave, yet he was still a citizen.
In a daze, Zoris stepped into the room. Everywhere he looked was opulence.
The floor was covered in luxurious carpets woven with intricate patterns of gold and silver thread, the pile as soft and delicate as clouds of cotton.
The bed linens were smooth and silky, too fine for him to even dare touch, for fear of soiling their beauty.
Zoris felt like he was dreaming. This was his room?
How could he deserve a room like this?
Zoris's shoulders shrank, and he silently curled up in the corner of the room.
...
At the West Tower of the palace, Perturabo and Calliphone met unexpectedly in the corridor.
"What are you doing here?" they asked in unison.
Perturabo spoke first, "I gave my room to Zoris. I have nowhere else to stay."
"I have some questions for Brother."
Perturabo's brow furrowed tightly. "He's not your brother, he's your mentor!"
"He's my mentor during class, and my brother after class!"
"Are you really here to ask questions?"
"O-of course." The girl's gaze flickered slightly.
"Excuses."
"Aren't you the same?"
They argued all the way to the tower entrance, neither willing to back down.
"What are you two doing blocking the doorway?" Caelan's voice came from inside the tower.
Calliphone guiltily lowered her eyes, and Perturabo quickly looked away.
"Alright, I won't ask. But you've come at the right time. Follow me."
Caelan shook his head resignedly, stepped past them, and headed straight towards the garden.
Calliphone glanced up, her eyes meeting Perturabo's, who had also been sneaking a look.
They both looked away again, neither giving ground as they followed Caelan.
The garden was steeped in night. A bright moon hung high, casting cool silver light on the meticulously trimmed flowers and stone paths.
"The moonlight is beautiful tonight!" Calliphone tilted her face up, the moon draping her in a silvery veil.
Perturabo looked up at the same night sky but saw only that eerie giant purple eye, like a demon peering out from an abyss.
The gaze, laden with malice, pressed down on his nerves like a physical weight, making his breath catch.
Calliphone noticed her brother's unease and looked up, but saw only the gentle moonlight.
She couldn't understand, 'What did Perturabo see?'
"Calliphone, this is for you."
Caelan handed Calliphone an intricately carved wooden stick. Its surface was engraved with complex patterns of vines.
Calliphone took it curiously. "What is this?"
"A wand," Caelan's voice carried a hint of nostalgia. "Grapevine wood, dragon nerve core, nine and three-quarter inches."
"But it's just a decoration. It can't really let you use magic."
Calliphone held the wand up to her eyes, her fingertips tracing the fine patterns as she examined it in the soft moonlight.
Suddenly, she playfully pointed the wand at Perturabo, waving it dramatically in the air. "Engorgio!"
She immediately burst into giggles at her own childishness.
Caelan then took out another item, a uniquely shaped short stick, carefully whittled into an oval shape and polished to an exceptional smoothness.
"Perturabo, this is your gift."
Perturabo took the short stick. "What is this?"
Caelan's expression suddenly turned extremely serious. "The Evolution Truster. I always wanted one when I was a child. Now I'm giving it to you!"
For Calliphone and Perturabo, the meaning behind the gifts far outweighed their practical value.
Caelan had put great thought into choosing the gifts. Something bought from the market, even the most splendid jewelry, would have felt hollow.
So he decided to make these two gifts by hand.
But he had agonized over what to give.
Rings, bracelets, jewelry were all too common, too perfunctory.
Dammekos had already given Perturabo a dagger. Caelan had to give something different.
After much thought, Caelan chose the two things he had wanted most as a child, a wand and the Evolution Truster.
"Grapevine wood symbolizes two extreme emotions, joy and anger. It's also associated with achieving goals and finding balance."
Calliphone asked curiously, "What about the dragon nerve?"
"It came from the dragon that Perturabo killed. It took me some time to find it."
Perturabo's voice was low, "When? You were with us all day!"
Caelan said lightly, "So I went at night."
"You haven't slept at all these past few days?"
"Staying up late makes me happy!" Caelan laughed at his own words. "Just kidding. Dammekos had already sent men to find the dragon's corpse and bring it back to Lochos. I just took advantage of the ready materials."
Perturabo gripped the Evolution Truster tightly. 'Even if finding the dragon's corpse had indeed taken no time, as Caelan said, from material selection to carving, how much effort and care hadn't been poured into these two gifts?'
And yet, because of his own fickle, he had given Caelan only a week!
During the day, Caelan had to stay by their side constantly, patiently guiding and teaching them. At night, he stayed up late crafting the gifts.
Perturabo, what were you so twisted about? What right did you have to be twisted?!
Smack!
A crisp slap echoed in the moonlight.
A vivid red handprint appeared on Perturabo's left cheek. But he seemed to feel no pain, his eyes fixed on the Evolution Truster in his hand.
"I am so damn wrong!"
Caelan gripped Perturabo's wrist tightly, his voice firm, "Remember this moment, A-Bo. No matter what you face in the future, don't let negative emotions cloud your judgment. This gift isn't something you demanded from me; it represents my expectations for you!"
"Become the light, Perturabo!"
Perturabo slowly lowered his hand. His lips parted, but before he could make a sound, his body suddenly tensed.
That malicious gaze seemed to have fixed on him.
Perturabo looked up sharply, staring into the abyss of the night sky as it stared back at him.
He enunciated each word, "What the hell are you looking at?!"
'Even during our family's warm moments, they had to spy? Didn't they have their own fathers?'
Calliphone's gaze drifted casually over the flower bushes, and she suddenly stifled a laugh, "Father, your backside is sticking out!"
Dammekos awkwardly straightened up from behind the bushes. Brushing the petals and night dew from his fine robes, he cleared his throat, "I just got here, was just passing by, thought I'd say hello."
Though eavesdropping was shameful, what Perturabo had said was too harsh, 'I'm your father, you know!'
Dammekos's gaze fell wistfully on Caelan, a mix of helplessness, frustration, and a hint of resentment in his eyes.
'Why didn't you just be his father? Why did you have to bring me into this?'
'And you seem way too practiced at this!'
'What am I stuck in the middle for? Some kind of substitute?'
"Father."
Perturabo broke the silence first. "I wasn't cursing at you."
With his extraordinary perception, he should have sensed Dammekos hiding in the bushes before Calliphone did.
But that malevolent gaze had been so oppressive that it had completely distracted him from the subtle sounds around him.
This was a lesson.
If it had been an assassin hiding in the bushes instead of Dammekos, his sister and Caelan would have been in danger.
His sister was only mortal, and while Caelan had psychic powers, he couldn't keep his shield up constantly.
He had to protect them!
Dammekos asked solemnly, "The Star Vortex?"
Perturabo nodded gravely.
Dammekos looked up at the night sky, the bright moon reflected in his eyes, and nothing else.
His reason told him the Star Vortex didn't exist.
But his heart told him to trust his son.
Dammekos placed a broad, warm hand on Perturabo's shoulder. "Son, I can't see it. But I believe you. If you face trouble, you can come to me, alright?"
Perturabo lowered his head. "Thank you, Father."
A warm smile appeared on Dammekos's face. "We're family. No need for thanks."
Perturabo's gaze suddenly shifted to the swaying bushes on his right. "Come out."
Dammekos, thinking it was an assassin, tensed instantly.
But when he saw the two figures scrambling awkwardly out of the bushes, his expression shifted to shock and annoyance, "Herakon, Andos, what are you two sneaking around here for?"
Herakon pulled his younger brother behind him, a stiff, forced smile on his face. "Father, we... like you, were just passing by."
"Like me?" Dammekos snorted. 'You had come specifically looking for them. And you have the nerve to say you were just passing by?'
Did he not know his own sons' characters?
Herakon felt a bit wronged. 'I'm your real son, your firstborn!'
'Why do you favor Perturabo so much?'
'And Calliphone, we're your real brothers, yet you spend all your time clinging to Caelan, calling him brother.'
'Who's really family here?'
'If you're the family, then what are Andos and I?'
It wasn't by chance that he and Andos were in the garden, but it was only out of curiosity.
Curious about what Calliphone and Perturabo were learning by following Caelan all day.
Deep down, there was also a hint of resentment. 'Why do they get to learn, and not me and Andos?'
Caelan reminded gently, "Perturabo, you should prepare a thank-you gift for your father."
Perturabo nodded seriously. "I was planning to."
"And for your brother and sister. You should give them belated welcome gifts as well."
"Alright." Perturabo readily agreed, his gaze falling on Herakon's complex expression.
Andos lacked his elder brother's scheming nature. His eyes were fixed on Calliphone's wand and Perturabo's Evolution Truster, his young face filled with undisguised envy.
Though the materials were ordinary, the exquisite design and unique symbolism made them irreplaceable works of art.
He took half a step forward, wanting a closer look, then timidly stepped back.
Perturabo looked up at Dammekos. "Father, I need some tools."
"I'll prepare them for you. Tell me, son, what do you need?"
"A forge, and a set of paintbrushes."
His eldest brother was a warrior. Perturabo would give him a sword.
His second brother loved art. Perturabo would give him a painting.
Herakon looked away, his voice stiff with forced nonchalance, "I... will give you a gift too, brother."
He didn't truly hate Perturabo. What he hated was being treated differently. He just didn't want to be the outsider.
He was part of this family, too!
Caelan asked, "Dammekos, could you do me a favor?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Dammekos's eyes, followed by an eager lean forward. "What do you need me to do?"
Though Caelan lived in the palace and tutored his children, he had always maintained a distance from Dammekos.
This sudden request brought a secret joy to Dammekos's heart. Whatever Caelan asked for, gaining his friendship would be worth it.
"I want to build an orphanage, to take in the orphans of Lochos."
Dammekos, "Leave it to me. I'll arrange the location, craftsmen, and funds. What scale are you thinking?"
"Ideally, large enough for all the orphans in Lochos."
"There's an abandoned old barracks in the commoner district. It's spacious and well-equipped. We could also expand into the warehouse district to the east. Any other needs?"
"They'll also need a teacher."
Dammekos asked seriously, "What subjects should they be taught?"
"Combat and literacy. Those two are enough."
Dammekos pondered for a moment. "What about Miltiades? You've met him. He's an excellent warrior and decently educated."
Caelan nodded, "He'll do."
Caelan looked at Perturabo. "A-Bo, I'm entrusting these children to you. You will teach them about life and how to conduct themselves. I won't interfere with your methods."
A flicker of confusion crossed Perturabo's eyes. "Why me?"
"They will be your warriors in the future. Only you have the right to shape them."
Herakon frowned. He acknowledged Perturabo was a genius, but a genius was still a child.
'Putting a child in charge of teaching other children wasn't that absurd?'
'What kind of result could that produce?'
Perturabo looked up at the sky. One day, he would leave Olympia.
Olympia was just the beginning; the stars were his destiny.
Perturabo wouldn't fight alone. He believed Caelan would accompany him, but Caelan wouldn't always be there.
He needed his own companions, ones he had raised himself.
Calliphone lowered her head, lost in another thought.
Lochos's system was too backward, but she couldn't change the current situation by herself.
Caelan would educate her, support her, but he wouldn't do it for her.
He was just a mentor, an educator, not an executor.
If everything was left to Caelan, what was the point of educating them?
Whether unification or revolution, it had to be accomplished by Calliphone and Perturabo's own hands.
An orphanage wouldn't change much, but the children who grew up there would become their comrades.
What the world would become depended on their passion.
Calliphone's fingers unconsciously traced the patterns on her wand. She didn't have real magic, but perhaps she could create miracles.
She knew better than anyone that Perturabo was the one destined to change the world, not her.
But so what?
She was Perturabo's sister. She didn't need to stand in the spotlight; she just needed to support him silently.
Even if she couldn't yet envision the ideal future, she had the determination to make the world better.
Just like Caelan, achievements need not come from one's own efforts, nor fame from one's own establishment.
As long as the monument to success stands, it is worth more than countless accolades.
"A-Bo?" Dammekos's heart ached. 'Such an intimate name, who's your real father anyway?'
'No, I need to do something about this!'