Chapter 6: In the Shadow of Grandeur

As the sun dipped behind the jagged peaks of the Eastern Kingdom's western border, the carriage wheels began to roll over smoothly paved cobblestones. Looking out the window, Kael noticed the scenery had shifted entirely. The wild, untamed nature of his village had given way to a flawless order. Giant, pruned plane trees lined the road like a living tunnel, through which golden shafts of light filtered into the cabin.

Kael tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword resting on his lap. He hadn't spoken much with his uncle Zephyros during the journey, but his mind was racing. His mother's weary smile and her waving goodbye played in his head like a recurring dream. "Can I really do this?" he thought.

"We're almost there, Kael," Zephyros said, as if waking from a deep slumber. "We've left the damp air of the village behind. This is where the kingdom breathes."

Kael held his breath as the carriage approached the massive iron gates of the manor rising on the western border of the Eastern Kingdom. Compared to this structure, the houses in his village felt very small. High stone walls and marble pillars dazzled his eyes. The perimeter was surrounded by silver-inlaid iron railings, built not just for defense, but to display sheer grandeur. The scale was so immense that Kael couldn't decide for a moment if this was a fortress or a palace. Fountains, lush gardens, and meticulously placed statues made it feel as if every stone possessed a soul of its own.

Kael turned to his uncle, his voice trembling with excitement. "Uncle… is this really your home?"

Zephyros responded with a hearty laugh. "Ha ha! Yes, my boy, this is mine. But don't think of it as just a house. This manor was a gift from the King for protecting the borders and placing the power of the wind at his service. Every stone you see is a badge of a hard-won victory."

As Kael watched the massive gardeners and patrolling guards, his uncle's words echoed in his mind: "If you achieve great success in the name of the kingdom, one day you too may receive such a reward from the King."

When the carriage stopped, a towering man in silver-inlaid armor awaited them. This was Varkas, Zephyros's childhood friend and Head Guard. After losing his kin in a tragic incident, he had taken refuge with Zephyros and became the manor's unbreakable shield.

As Kael stepped out, he felt as if he were standing before a living statue carved from marble. Every scratch on Varkas's armor told the story of a bloody battle. Kael looked up to see a stern face, marked by a thin, jagged scar running from above his right eye down to his cheek.

Zephyros jumped down and slapped his old friend on the shoulder. Varkas responded with a slight nod to the playful gesture, but his eyes immediately locked onto the strange, ancient sword on Kael's back. He knew at a glance that it wasn't just a piece of iron, and Varkas had felt this the moment he saw it.

"Welcome back, Zephyros," Varkas said, his voice rumbling like thunder from beneath the earth. Without looking away from the boy, he asked, "Who is the lad? A friend?"

Zephyros smiled and nudged Kael forward. "My sister's son, Kael. I brought him from the village for training."

Varkas's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I never thought I'd see the day you'd bring someone here to train. Not when so many nobles have begged at your door, only for you to refuse them all..." Varkas leaned down to Kael's level. He was so massive that even crouching, he loomed over the boy. He extended a calloused hand. "Hello, young man. I am Varkas. You could say I am the unyielding wall of this manor."

Kael felt as if his bones might crack when he shook Varkas's hand. But it wasn't just physical strength; looking into Varkas's eyes, Kael felt as if his very soul were being scrutinized. Varkas was surprised that the boy didn't flinch or look away. He noticed the calluses on Kael's palms; "This boy is used to hard work," he thought to himself.

Varkas smirked slightly—a rare sign of approval. He whispered to Zephyros, "He has that spark in his eyes. I can tell a warrior from a coward with one look." Varkas had recognized the unshakable courage in Kael's gaze. Years on the battlefield had made him a judge of character. Internally, he thought, "Zephyros has found a truly interesting child."

At the entrance, Zephyros paused and turned to Kael. "Ha ha! Let's clear up one misunderstanding, lad. I won't be the one training you. I don't use a sword, so I can't teach you swordsmanship. And since I use wind magic, I can't help you reach your full potential in your own path. You will have separate masters for both the blade and magic. Consider yourself lucky; few receive such specialized instruction."

Kael was surprised, but he realized his uncle had planned everything meticulously. As they entered, they were met by the Head Butler, Elias. Elias bowed with perfect grace. "Welcome home, Master Zephyros. The house has missed you."

"Hello, Elias," Zephyros said. "This young man is my special guest. Show him his room and the bath, and give him fresh clothes. Tell him to join me for dinner when he's ready."

"As you wish, sir." Elias turned to Kael. "This way, Young Master Kael," he said, opening the massive double doors inlaid with gold. As Kael stepped inside, the fresh air was replaced by the faint scent of myrrh and old parchment. The entrance hall was so high that when the light from the crystal chandelier hit the black marble floor, Kael felt as if he were walking on stars.

Elias spoke with military discipline as they walked. "This manor is one of the oldest architectural pieces in the Eastern Kingdom. These portraits on the right are the ancestors of Master Zephyros and the protectors of these lands." Kael couldn't help but look at the massive oil paintings; it felt as if the eyes of the men followed him. One showed a mage commanding storms, another a knight standing firm in a sea of blood. It felt like the center of an entirely different world—one of nobility and power.

"Master," Elias said, pointing to the intricate carvings on the banisters. "Every motif here is protected by a special glaze mixed with dragon bone dust. Feel free to touch; this house is your home now." Kael tentatively touched the wood; it was incredibly smooth. They passed silver-clad statues of knights. Kael felt as if someone was watching him from the empty armor. Elias continued, "The library door you see there only opens with Master Zephyros's permission. Some books inside are protected by seals that would turn the fingers of the unauthorized to ash."

Kael swallowed hard. He realized this luxury was wrapped in a dangerous, mystical power. Finally, Elias stopped before an ornate oak door. "This is your room, Master Kael. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Inside, his amazement peaked. Silk pillows, soft duvets, and a massive study desk...

Afterwards, Kael went to the bath. As he entered the hot water, the dust of the road and the fatigue in his shoulders melted away. In the water prepared with lavender and pine oils, he closed his eyes and forgot everything for a moment. In that tub, he was just a 14-year-old boy; neither the dragon sword nor the heavy politics of the kingdom occupied his mind. But as the warmth caressed his skin, the Crimson Sphere inside him glowed faintly, as if reacting to the tranquility.

He dressed in the clothes left for him—dark blue, soft as silk yet durable as armor. Looking in the mirror, he hardly recognized himself. He looked like a "Young Master," but his eyes were still the same—determined and a bit anxious.

"My things," he whispered. He checked the sword and the small items from his mother. He stepped out and headed toward the grand dining hall. The scents hitting his nose made his head spin. An ebony table for twenty stood in the center, lit by silver candelabras.

Zephyros raised his glass: "Sit, Kael! One cannot discuss magic on an empty stomach; first, let's enjoy this feast."

Kael saw a riot of colors he had never seen before. Elias and the helpers lifted the silver covers, revealing steaming dishes one by one. The table was a masterpiece: pheasant meat, herbs, exotic fruits, and desserts drizzled with honey... Kael had never seen so much food together.

As they began to eat, Kael asked, "Uncle, are Royal Mages always this wealthy?"

Zephyros laughed. "More or less, yes. Some choose to live modestly, and some prefer to live with the King. A Royal Mage is higher in rank than nobles and takes orders directly from the King. There are seven Royal Mages in the Eastern Kingdom: Fire, Wind, Water, Earth, Light, Nature, and Summoning. I represent Wind."

Kael asked, "Is it very hard to become a Royal Mage?"

"Yes. You must graduate from the academy or be at least a 7th-Circle mage. Currently, the strongest is Luminos, the 9th-Circle Light Mage of the Central Kingdom. He is beyond comparison."

Kael was stunned. "Uncle, is there that much difference between the 7th and 9th Circles?"

Zephyros grew serious. "From the 1st to the 3rd Circle, power increases 100-fold. From 3rd to 5th, 500-fold. From 5th to 7th, 1000-fold! Beyond 7th, the increase is even more massive. The gap between 7 and 9 is astronomical. Moreover, Light magic is inherently unbalanced; 3 circles of Light are equal to 5 circles of Wind."

Kael felt crushed. Zephyros continued, "The world is vast, Kael. Human power is limited, but there are species like deities, spirits, and high elves who exceed 10 circles. Train yourself well, so no one can crush you and you can protect those dear to you. Tomorrow, a swordsman named Grimm will come. He is known as the 'Shadow Warrior'; he's a bit cold, but not a bad person."

"I'll give it my all, Uncle! I won't let you down," Kael said with resolve.

After the dinner and the heavy information, Kael retired to his room. He extinguished the torches, leaving only one candle. He stared at the blank paper and began writing to his mother:

"Dear mother, I have arrived at the manor. My uncle welcomed me with a grandeur far greater than I had ever expected. Life here is so different from our village, mother... The swords hanging on the walls, the portraits that look as if they are alive, and the servants... Sometimes I feel like a stranger here. But do not worry, I do not part with my sword or your advice for even a moment."

He paused, and a small ink stain dripped from his quill onto the paper.

"My uncle won't be training me; he has hired special masters for me instead. Tomorrow, I will meet a swordsman named Grimm. The way my uncle described him filled me with both a sense of fear and a strange excitement. I will do my absolute best, mother; I will not let you down."

He sealed the letter and sat by the window. The moon was brighter than ever. Kael remembered his friend Ashael. "I wonder what he is doing now? Is he happy?" he whispered. He looked at the moon-sealed ring; it pulsed faintly in the moonlight. As he lay in bed, he felt the dragon within him stirring. Tomorrow was the start of a bloody training. The future was as mysterious as the dark side of the moon.

Kael closed his eyes, touching the ring. He was at the start of a road with no turning back.