The grassland stretched quietly beyond the Kaleid house, rolling gently under the morning sky. Dew still clung to the tips of the grass, catching the sunlight and turning it into something soft and silver. It was the kind of place people passed by without thinking, yet it had always been there, unchanged, steady.
Voren walked beside his father in silence.
They didn't hurry. They never did on mornings like this. His father's steps were slow but firm, each one measured, as if he were counting something only he could hear. The wind brushed past them, carrying the scent of earth and distant trees.
His father's name was Aldric Kaleid.
Once, long ago, that hadn't been his name.
Aldric stopped and bent down, plucking a blade of grass between his fingers. He turned it slowly, then let it fall.
"You awakened yesterday," he said at last. His voice was calm, but there was weight beneath it. "That means the path ahead of you is no longer just a dream."
Voren nodded, listening.
"Power changes people," Aldric continued. "It makes some arrogant. It makes others afraid. But the worst thing it can do is make you complacent. Don't relent in your training. Not even when things get hard. Especially not then."
He glanced sideways at Voren, eyes sharp despite the lines carved into his face by years of hardship.
"I've told you this story before," he said, a faint, tired smile touching his lips. "And I'll probably tell it again."
Voren already knew what was coming.
But he didn't interrupt.
"My father had two sons," Aldric said. "Me, and my younger brother. We both awakened young. He awakened the penta-elemental bloodline of the Hartwrights. I didn't. I only had three elements."
His fingers curled slightly.
"In the Hartwright family, that difference meant everything. Talent was destiny. Strength was inheritance. The family treasure estate, the lands, the wealth—everything went to him."
Aldric exhaled slowly.
"When my father died, my brother became Duke Hartwright. And within a year, he sent me and your mother away. No title. No gold. Not even the dignity of a farewell. Just a decree and a carriage that stopped far from anywhere worth remembering."
Voren felt his jaw tighten.
"That's why we're poor," Aldric said simply. "And why I denounced the Hartwright name, and took your mother's maiden name instead. Kaleid."
He paused, then added, "And spite."
They walked a few more steps before Aldric spoke again.
"You will see Aiden Hartwright at the academy," he said. "There's no avoiding that. You might even face him during the entrance exam."
Voren's gaze darkened slightly, but he stayed quiet.
"When that happens," Aldric continued, "do not be afraid. Don't fluster. Stand your ground with dignity. Never bow to arrogance. But never mock humility either. Respect isn't something you demand. It's something you earn."
He stopped walking.
"What it means to be a mage," Aldric said, turning to face him, "A mage is someone who understands responsibility. Someone who chooses where to stand when the world tries to push them around."
"I could have been a mage," Aldric admitted. "I had the talent. But in the Hartwright Duchy, every mage answers to the duke. To my brother. I couldn't bring myself to kneel under his banner."
A faint bitterness crept into his voice.
"I didn't have the money to take us far from here. Didn't have the influence either. But yours can be different. You must become a mage anywhere else in Oakhaven, you must belong to yourself."
They stopped near an old wooden shed, which was half-hidden by the tall grass. Then, Aldric pushed the door open, and the hinges creaked.
Inside, resting against the wall, were two steel blades.
Aldric picked them up and turned back.
He tossed one toward Voren.
"Enough talking," he said. "Take a fighting position."
The blade landed in Voren's hands, solid and real.
And for the first time since regressing, his future felt like something he could reach.