In the center of the courtyard, Aldric.
But he was not alone.
Standing opposite him, high on the main staircase that led to the mansion's double doors, was Varen Drayvar.
The Grand Duke.
Lyssara stopped dead in her tracks, grabbing Sareth's arm to slow him before they entered her father's direct line of sight. They remained in the corner of the courtyard, concealed by the shadow of a column, watching.
Varen. His presence filled the space in a physical way. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with the military bearing that never left him, even in the intimacy of his home. His curly black hair showed pronounced gray at the temples, silvered under the twilight. A short, well-kept beard framed a face that looked carved from stone. His gray eyes, the same ones all his children had inherited, looked down with the weight of ancestral responsibilities.
Behind him, a step to the right, stood Elyn. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a perfect bun, not a single strand out of place despite the commotion. She wore a dark blue silk afternoon ensemble with jewels reflecting the fading light. Her calculating eyes observed the scene with a mixture of barely contained curiosity and irritation. The sharp cheekbones of her severe face tensed slightly.
"I asked you a question," Varen said.
His voice was not a shout. It was grave, deep, resonating in the courtyard like the rumble of distant thunder.
Aldric, who had been looking down, slowly raised his head. He looked exhausted. Road dust covered his armor, mixed with dried bloodstains. He had cuts on his face and knuckles. But his eyes were clear, firm.
"I heard it, my Lord," Aldric replied. "And I have given you my answer."
"Your answer is insufficient," Varen said.
He descended one step. The movement was slow, deliberate. The guards flanking the main entrance stiffened, their hands instinctively moving toward the hilts of their swords although they did not draw them.
"You left this house with my youngest son. You had a simple order: protect him and bring him back. Now you return alone. Without the boy. Without clear explanations."
Varen stopped.
"Where is Kael?"
Sareth felt his heart pounding in his throat. Beside him, Carmen had appeared, remaining two steps back, almost glued to the wall. Her eyes were wide, watching the scene with terrified fascination.
Aldric swallowed. He straightened up as best he could, adopting a military posture, although his legs trembled slightly from the fatigue of the journey.
"Young Lord Kael is safe, my Lord. He is in... a secure location, attending to matters he deemed vital for the future of the House."
"Vital matters?"
Varen repeated the words with a blood-chilling tone. Several servants who were peeking from the second-floor windows instinctively drew back.
"Does an 11-year-old boy have vital matters that require his escort to return alone and looking like a war deserter?"
"I am not a deserter," Aldric said firmly. "I obey orders. Kael ordered me to return to report that he will not be coming back to Stormvale for the moment. He said his education here... had concluded. And that his true learning was outside."
Elyn let out a small laugh, almost musical but with a cutting edge. She brought a jeweled hand to her mouth, her eyes glinting with something akin to amusement.
"Has he run away? That crazy boy has run away?"
A murmur ran through the guards and servants present.
Varen ignored his wife. His eyes were fixed on Aldric, boring into him with an intensity that made even the toughest men want to look away.
"You are telling me that a child ordered you to abandon him. And you, a trained knight, a man who swore loyalty to me, obeyed a childish whim and left him alone in a dangerous world."
"He is not alone," Aldric corrected, his voice remaining firm despite the sweat beginning to bead on his temple. "And it was not a whim. Kael... the young lord... has secured resources. He has established alliances. He sent me back so the House would not fear for his life, but he made it clear that he will not return until he decides to."
Varen fell silent.
The air in the courtyard began to change.
Lyssara felt it first. It was as if the temperature dropped ten degrees suddenly. An invisible pressure began to build, a static that raised the hair on the back of the neck and made breathing difficult, as if the air had become dense, heavy, charged with electricity.
The guards at the entrance involuntarily took a step back. The horses in the stables began to neigh nervously.
Sareth put a hand to his chest, gasping softly. His face lost color.
"Lyssara..." he whispered. "I can hardly breathe."
"Be quiet," she hissed, although she felt the same.
Her knees wanted to buckle. The silver brooch in her pocket felt heavy as lead. It was the primal instinct of any living creature before a superior predator: make yourself small, submit, disappear.
Carmen had slumped against the wall, breathing through her mouth in short, silent gasps.
It was Varen's Aether. He was not attacking; he was simply letting his presence overflow. It was a warning. A demonstration of raw power that reminded everyone in that courtyard who the apex was in Stormvale.
The air itself seemed to vibrate, distorting slightly around the Grand Duke's figure.
Varen descended another step.
"You lie, Aldric."
The pressure increased. It was as if an invisible weight fell onto the shoulders of everyone in the courtyard.
Aldric clenched his teeth. His legs bent slightly, struggling to stay upright.
"I do not lie, my Lord."
"You are concealing things. I see the doubt in your eyes. I see the fear. Not for yourself, but for what you know."
Varen raised a hand and pointed a finger at Aldric. The gesture was slow, accusatory.
"Tell me the truth. Is Kael dead? Did you kill him through incompetence and now you try to cover up your failure with stories of vital matters? Or have you sold him to some enemy of the family?"
"Never!"
Aldric yelled, offended to his core. His hand flew instinctively to where his sword should be, but his scabbard was empty.
"I would give my life for him!"
"Then why are you not with him?" Varen roared.
The shout was accompanied by an Aether shockwave.
It was visible. A wave of distortion that expanded from Varen like ripples in a pond, but composed of pure, crushing power.
Lyssara and Sareth had to clutch the column to avoid falling. Lyssara felt her legs tremble, her fingers white from the force with which she clung to the stone. The servants peering from the windows drew back, terrified. One stumbled and fell backward with a choked cry.
The guards at the entrance unintentionally dropped to one knee, subdued by pure instinct.
But Aldric took the blow head-on.
It was as if an invisible hammer struck his shoulders. His legs gave way. The knight fell to his knees with a dry thud against the pavement. He tried to get up, tried to put a hand on the ground to push himself up, but the pressure held him pinned, crushing him against the earth as if the sky itself had descended upon him.
His breath came out in ragged gasps. Drops of sweat fell to the ground.
Varen walked toward him. Step by step. Slow. Inexorable.
The Grand Duke's steps echoed in the absolute silence of the courtyard. No one dared to move. No one dared to breathe too loudly.
He stopped in front of the kneeling knight.
"You disobeyed my original orders," Varen said, looking down with cold contempt. "You abandoned your charge. And now you come to my house, stand before me, and give me riddles."
Varen reached out a hand to the side without looking. The nearest guard, understanding the gesture without need of words, drew his own sword with trembling hands and tossed it to him.
Varen caught the weapon in the air effortlessly. The steel gleamed with a lethal brilliance under the setting sun.
He pointed the tip of the sword at Aldric's throat. It did not touch the skin, but it was close enough for the knight to feel the cold of the metal, for every breath to threaten pressing his neck against the blade.
"I will give you one chance, Aldric," Varen said.
His voice dropped to a whisper that was somehow more terrifying than any scream.
"A single one. Tell me exactly where my son is, who he is with, and what he is doing. Tell me the complete truth. Now."
Aldric trembled. Sweat ran down his dirty face, mixing with the dried blood of older cuts. The pressure of Varen's Aether was suffocating, designed to break wills, to make men beg and confess even their darkest sins just for it to stop.
Lyssara watched the scene with rising horror. Her father was going to kill him. He was going to execute Aldric right there, in the courtyard, in front of everyone.
'Say it,' Lyssara thought, her nails digging into the stone of the column. 'Tell him what he wants to know, Aldric. Don't be stupid.'
But Aldric did not speak immediately.
He closed his eyes for a moment. He forced his breathing to slow.
Kael had told him this would happen. Kael had warned him. 'My father will try to break you. He will use fear. He will use force. But if you yield, if you give him everything, Kael Drayvar will stop being an independent piece and will return to being a pawn.'
Aldric thought of the insignia he carried in his inside pocket, the metal still warm against his chest.
He thought of the burning of the Torren manor. Of the fall of Kladis. Of the power they had seized.
He thought of Kael's abilities and the enormous potential that was opening up before them.
He opened his eyes. He looked up at the Duke, at the sword that promised his death.
And despite the pressure that threatened to break his spine, despite the instinctive terror Varen Drayvar provoked in him, Aldric found air in his lungs.
"I cannot tell you everything, my Lord."
His voice came out strangled, barely audible, but firm. The words fell into the silence like bells.
Varen narrowed his eyes. The tip of the sword advanced a millimeter, cutting the skin of the neck. A bright red drop of blood sprang out, slowly sliding down Aldric's skin to stain the collar of his tunic.
A choked murmur ran through the spectators.
"Do you choose death over obedience?" Varen asked.
"I choose loyalty," Aldric replied.
He made a titanic effort. The muscles in his neck tightened like steel ropes. The veins in his forehead bulged. He fought against the Grand Duke's aura, not to attack it, but simply to lift his head with dignity.
"I left here as a guard of House Drayvar," Aldric said, gasping between each word. "But I no longer am."
Varen raised an eyebrow. Curiosity checked his hand for a second.
"Oh, no? Then what are you? A traitor?"
"No."
Aldric swallowed, feeling the blade against his throat. Another drop of blood fell.
He looked Varen directly in the eyes, from warrior to warrior, accepting the consequences of what he was about to say.
"I serve Kael Drayvar."
The phrase echoed in the silent courtyard like the tolling of a bell.
"I am his knight. His sword. And his secrets are mine to guard until death. If you want to kill me for that, do so, my Lord. But I will die as his son's first Captain, not as an informer."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Not even the wind dared to blow.
Sareth's mouth was open, his eyes like saucers. Carmen had both hands over her mouth, stifling a cry. Lyssara felt a chill run down her spine, a mixture of disbelief and involuntary admiration.
No one spoke to Varen like that. No one.
Elyn blinked, surprised for the first time that night. Her expression changed from amused curiosity to something more serious.
The guards exchanged looks of shock.
Varen kept the sword at Aldric's neck. His expression was unreadable, a mask of stone that revealed nothing.
Seconds passed. Eternal seconds where the only sound was Aldric's labored breathing and the slow dripping of his blood.
Aldric did not look away. He did not beg. He did not ask for clemency. He accepted the end with open eyes.
And then, like the sudden change of a storm, the pressure vanished.
It was instantaneous. The crushing weight evaporated from the air like mist under the sun.
Varen withdrew the sword.
There was a collective sound of exhalation in the courtyard. Elyn let out the breath she had been holding, putting a hand to her chest. The guards relaxed their shoulders almost in unison, some swaying slightly. The servants at the windows allowed themselves to breathe again.
Lyssara felt her legs loosen. She leaned against the column, dizzy from the sudden release of pressure.
Sareth slumped against the wall, trembling.
Varen looked at Aldric, who was still kneeling, gasping with his hand pressed against the small cut on his neck, but alive.
The Duke did not smile. Varen did not smile for trivial things. But there was a change in his gaze. The contempt had disappeared, replaced by something colder, but less lethal. Something almost like... respect.
"Loyalty," Varen said, as if testing the flavor of the word on his tongue. "A loyalty that overcomes the fear of death."
Varen turned around, giving his back to Aldric. He walked two steps toward the staircase.
"Kael has managed to inspire that in you," Varen said, looking toward the darkening horizon. "A child who barely knows how to hold a sword has managed to get a grown man to defy his Duke and accept death rather than betray him."
Varen let out a short, dry, humorless laugh.
"Interesting."
He turned to Aldric one last time.
"Get up, 'Captain'."
The word fell with weight. A recognition. An acceptance.
"I will not kill you today. A loyal dog is hard to find, even if it barks at the wrong owner."
Aldric blinked, processing the words. Slowly, with visible effort, he got to his feet. His legs were numb, shaking from fatigue and the pressure he had endured, but he stood firm.
"Go to the barracks," Varen ordered, his voice returning to its usual commanding tone. "Clean yourself up. Eat. And rest. Tomorrow you will tell me what you can tell me without breaking your oath. I want to know if my son is a genius or just a lucky fool."
"Yes, my Lord."
Aldric bowed his head, bringing a fist to his chest in a military salute. Blood still dripped from his neck, staining the metal of his armor.
Varen looked at Elyn.
"Let's go inside. The show is over."
The Duke and Duchess ascended the stairs, their steps echoing in the silence. Elyn cast one last look at Aldric, her calculating eyes processing what she had just witnessed, before disappearing behind the great oak doors.
The door closed with a heavy, final sound.
The courtyard remained silent for another moment. Then, as if a spell was broken, activity resumed.
People began to disperse. Servants returned to their tasks, whispering frantically about what they had just witnessed. The guards regrouped, exchanging meaningful glances.
Aldric staggered slightly, but refused a guard's help with a wave of his hand. He walked toward the stables with slow but firm steps, leading his exhausted horse with him.
In the corner of the courtyard, Lyssara and Sareth emerged from the shadows. Carmen followed them, still pale.
They walked slowly toward where Aldric was heading with his mount.
Lyssara watched the knight's back. She saw how he walked. He was no longer the generic guard who had left months ago. There was something different in his bearing now. He walked with a new weight, with a fierce dignity that had not been there before. Every step was that of a man who had found his purpose.
Sareth was pale, still affected by the pressure of his father's Aether. He rubbed his arms, trying to calm the residual tremor.
"Did you see that?" Sareth whispered, his voice barely audible. "He almost killed him. Father almost executed him right there. And Aldric... Aldric did not yield. For Kael."
Lyssara nodded, not taking her eyes off Aldric's figure. Her mind was working at full speed, reevaluating everything she thought she knew about her younger brother.
Kael was not just playing at being smart. He was not just reading books or learning tricks in some distant city.
Kael was building something. Something real. Something capable of taking a grown man and turning him into a fanatic willing to die rather than betray his trust.
"I told you, Sareth," Lyssara said, her voice tinged with a mixture of unease and involuntary respect. "Kael is not wasting time."
She looked toward the dark road where Aldric had come from, the dusty road that led away from Stormvale, toward the outside world.
"He has turned a guard into a Captain. He has defied Father through him. And..."
She paused, processing the truth of her own words.
"He has won."
Lyssara turned to her brother, holding his gaze.
"We have to prepare, Sareth. If Kael returns with that kind of loyalty behind him, with people willing to die for him... Stormvale is going to become too small for him very quickly."
Sareth swallowed, the reality of the situation settling upon him like a weight.
"What do we do?"
"What we agreed to," Lyssara said, her eyes shining with determination.
"We prepare."
They walked back toward the mansion, feeling that the ground beneath their feet had changed forever.