The soft crackle of the fire filled the study, its warmth doing little to ease the chill of tension lingering in the room. Caelith stood by the tall, arched window, staring out at the academy grounds. The courtyard below lay bathed in moonlight, its paths and gardens painted in a pale silver hue. Long shadows stretched from the towers, their shapes jagged and sharp. His golden eyes remained fixed on the scene, but his mind was elsewhere—burdened, restless. He gripped a glass of amber liquor, the liquid inside untouched.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Bringing him here. Giving him a place. But what have I done, Isova?”

Across the room, Isova sat in a high-backed chair near the hearth. Her silver robes shimmered faintly in the firelight, reflecting the calm authority that defined her. She watched him with quiet patience, her sharp, pale-blue eyes following the rigid line of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. She waited for a beat, letting the weight of his words settle before responding.

“You gave him more than a place,” she said softly. “You gave him a future. A chance to prove himself in a world that would have written him off.”

Caelith turned to face her, his expression a mix of frustration and self-reproach. “A chance? A chance to what? To be a pawn in a game he doesn’t even understand?” His voice rose, echoing off the stone walls. “Sylvara doesn’t see him as a person. To her, he’s a threat she can crush, a tool to manipulate—nothing more.”

Isova leaned forward slightly, her hands resting on her knees. Her tone remained steady, measured. “Sylvara isn’t the problem, Caelith. The problem is fear. Fear of what he can become. Fear of the shadows he commands. And fear of what happens when people realize he’s more than they imagined.”

Caelith’s jaw tightened, his free hand clenching at his side. “And if I fail him?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost brittle. “What then? If this adoption does nothing but paint a bigger target on his back?”

Isova stood, crossing the room to stand beside him. Her movements were graceful but deliberate, each step purposeful. She placed a hand on his arm, her touch steady and grounding. “You won’t fail him,” she said firmly. “Because you’re not offering him a title or a legacy. You’re offering him something no one else has given him: belief. And that is worth more than you realize.”

Caelith shook his head, his golden eyes clouded with doubt. “You make it sound so simple,” he murmured. “But it isn’t. Not for him. Not for us.”

Isova’s smile was faint but unwavering. “Of course it isn’t simple. The things that matter never are.” She paused, her expression shifting to something more introspective, her voice lowering. “But there’s something else we need to discuss. Something you’ve carried for far too long.”

Caelith frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “What are you talking about?”

Isova’s gaze softened, but her words carried a quiet weight that stilled the room. “You can’t give me an heir to Ardencrest, Caelith.”

The words hung in the air, cutting through the space between them like a blade. Caelith’s breath hitched, and his fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. “Isova, I—”

She raised a hand, silencing him with a gesture that was gentle but firm. “Let me finish.” Her tone softened further, carrying an intimacy that made him freeze in place. “I could have left. Found someone else. Another nobleman who could give me children, an heir, a perfect lineage. Do you know how many offers I had? How many would have begged for my hand?”

Caelith’s eyes widened, and he took a half-step back. “Why are you…”

Isova stepped closer, her smile faint but filled with warmth. “Because I didn’t want any of them. I wanted you. And I still do. Do you know why?” She reached up, brushing a hand against his cheek, her touch as light as silk. “Because the thought of having a family without you... It wasn’t a family at all.”

His golden eyes glistened, and he turned his face away, struggling to compose himself. “Isova...” His voice broke, and the glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the stone floor. He brought a hand to his face, his shoulders trembling.

Isova stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close. Her voice was a whisper now, but it carried all the strength he lacked. “You are enough, Caelith. You’ve always been enough.”

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound. When Caelith finally pulled back, tears streaked his face, but his expression carried something new: hope.

“Ayo doesn’t have a family,” Isova continued, her tone steady but tender. “Not anymore. But the way you look at him, the way you speak about him… He’s your son, Caelith. He’s ours. And he always has been.”

Her gaze turned wistful as she added, “It’s been this way from the start. Ever since Eike’s mother came to you, begging for Ayo to join the academy even though he couldn’t use mana properly. Even then, you saw something in him. And so did I.”

Caelith’s fingers curled into fists, then relaxed as he exhaled shakily. He turned to the desk where the adoption proposal lay, its edges curling slightly in the fire’s warmth. He stared at it for a long moment before looking back at Isova.

“What do I do?” he asked, his voice quiet but resolute.

Isova smiled, stepping back toward the hearth. “You already know, Caelith. You’ve known for a long time.” She glanced back at him, her expression softening. “For now, though, I need to have a chat with our son.”

With that, she turned and exited the study, leaving Caelith alone. The fire’s light flickered against the adoption proposal as he sat down heavily in his chair, his golden eyes burning with determination.

The hallway outside Ayo’s room was unusually quiet, save for the faint flickering of shadows that danced along the walls. Isova paused mid-step, her pale-blue eyes narrowing slightly as she felt the air shift—a subtle ripple of awareness brushing against her senses. She hadn’t announced her arrival, yet something about the silence felt intentional, almost expectant. The door to Ayo’s room creaked open before she could knock, the shadows curling back as though welcoming her in.

Inside, the room was alive with warmth and laughter. Blankets and pillows were scattered across the floor where Ren and Tessa lounged, embroiled in a playful argument over the rules of some trivia game. Eike sat cross-legged beside them, his smirk widening every time Tessa corrected Ren. Popcorn littered the floor around him, a casualty of his lazy attempts to toss it into his mouth.

On the couch, Ayo leaned back against the armrest, his golden eyes half-lidded as Lirien rested against him, her head comfortably nestled on his shoulder. Her breathing was slow and steady, completely relaxed, and it was clear she had fallen asleep. Their hands were loosely intertwined, a casual gesture neither seemed aware of. His shadows coiled languidly at his feet, their movements synchronized with his breathing. Occasionally, they flicked toward Lirien’s arm, brushing against her sleeve as if testing her presence.

Isova stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the scene with a quiet authority that made the room feel smaller. Ren shot upright from his slouched position, nudging Tessa with an exaggerated elbow jab. “Lady Isova!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly in a way that only made him more flustered.

Tessa crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look. “She is royalty, Ren. Show some respect.”

Ren grinned, unrepentant as always. “Sure, sure—but honestly? She feels more like a mom than a queen.”

Isova raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if suppressing a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Ren. For now.”

She glanced at the couch, where Lirien remained fast asleep against Ayo. The shadows at his feet shifted, almost reluctantly, as he stood. Before he left, they coiled around Lirien, weaving themselves into a protective blanket that adjusted subtly with her movements.

Ren pointed at the shadows, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and unease. “Uh, guys? Did anyone else see that? They’re... tucking her in. That’s not creepy at all.”

Eike smirked, crossing his arms. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or worried. Ayo gets up, and his shadows go full guardian mode. What’s next? Are they gonna start cooking us dinner?”

Tessa tilted her head, her expression softening. “Oh, come on, it’s not that weird. Lirien did run into the Shadowspire Woods to bring him back, remember? Maybe this is their way of saying she belongs with him.”

Ren threw a piece of popcorn at her. “Okay, but ‘sweet’ isn’t exactly the vibe I get from shadows that could probably strangle us in our sleep. Just saying.”

Tessa rolled her eyes, unfazed. “Haven’t you noticed how calm they are around her? They trust her. Just like Ayo does.”

Eike leaned back, his smirk widening. “Trust her, huh? Looks like even his shadows know better than to mess with Lirien. Smart.”

Isova let their banter fade into the background as she stepped closer to Ayo, who now stood silently by the door. His golden eyes flicked toward her, unreadable as always, but his shadows shifted faintly, brushing against her feet as if acknowledging her presence.

“You knew I was coming,” she said, her tone both amused and knowing.

Ayo shrugged, his golden eyes flicking toward the door. “They told me.” He gestured to the shadows pooling near her feet. “I figured you were here for something important.”

“And yet, you didn’t warn anyone?” she asked, arching a delicate eyebrow.

His smirk was faint but unmistakable. “Maybe I hoped you just happened to be in the Gray Tower.”

Her lips twitched in a brief smile before she raised her hand. With a snap of her fingers, the world around them dissolved into a swirl of light and shadow.

A crisp night breeze greeted them as they reappeared atop the Gold Tower. The academy below stretched out in all directions, its towers glowing faintly against the star-filled sky. The city beyond glittered like a sea of scattered jewels, and the horizon was painted in shades of deep indigo. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over the stone roof.

Ayo stumbled slightly, catching himself with a flicker of his shadows. “A little warning next time?” he muttered, brushing himself off.

“Consider it practice,” Isova replied, her tone tinged with amusement. “For your Shadow Walking.”

He blinked, his golden eyes narrowing. “You know about that?”

She tilted her head, her smile teasing. “Of course. It’s not a new concept, you know. Shadow Walking has existed for centuries.”

His brows furrowed, genuine confusion crossing his face. “Wait. You’re saying it’s... already a thing? I thought I invented it.”

Isova chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Oh, Ayo. You’re remarkable, but even you don’t reinvent the wheel.”

He crossed his arms, his shadows flickering around his feet. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

Isova’s teasing smile lingered as she leaned slightly closer, her voice dropping to a lighthearted murmur. “What I find more remarkable is how your shadows behaved when you left. Wrapping Lirien up like she was their favorite treasure?”

Ayo’s expression shifted, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “That’s… not intentional. They do things sometimes.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s all them,” she said with a knowing grin. “Still, they seem to like her. Not every day you see shadows tucking someone in.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can we not talk about this?”

Isova laughed softly. “Alright, alright. But it’s sweet, you know. In its own shadowy way.”

Ayo huffed, his shadows flickering around him as if sharing in his embarrassment. “Let’s just move on, please.”

Isova stepped closer to the edge, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Her voice softened as she spoke. “I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow. About the summit... and about what comes next.”

Ayo’s posture stiffened slightly, his shadows curling defensively. “Let me guess,” he said, his voice quieter now. “This is about Caelith.”

“Yes,” Isova admitted, “and about me. About us.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Ayo, if you accept this—if you agree to become his heir—you won’t just be part of the Garnet Tower anymore. You’ll be part of our family.”

He looked at her sharply, his golden eyes narrowing. “What does that mean? I stay in the Gray Tower, right?”

Isova shook her head, her gaze softening as she stepped even closer. “No. If you accept, you’ll live with us at the royal estate. The Gray Tower will always be part of your life, but your place will be with us.” She hesitated, then added, “Caelith spends most days at the academy. He tries to return every night, but it’s not always possible.” Her voice grew quieter. “Which means, for the most part, it would be you and me. Together.”

Ayo’s shadows flickered, their movements erratic as he processed her words. “I don’t know if I can... leave this. It’s my home.”

Stolen story; please report.

Isova stepped closer, her presence steadying. “Ayo,” she said gently, “it’s not about leaving something behind. It’s about growing into something new. The Gray Tower has been your foundation, but the estate—our home—could be your future.”

Her words hung in the air, the weight of them settling deep into his chest. Ayo’s voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. For any of this.”

Isova’s lips curved into a faint, understanding smile. “Readiness isn’t a requirement for love, Ayo. And that’s what this is. Not politics, not duty. Love. It’s messy and imperfect, but it’s real. And that’s all we want to offer you.”

He turned away, his golden eyes gazing out over the academy below. The shadows at his feet mirrored his turmoil, twisting and curling as if they, too, were unsure. “It’s just... a lot.”

“It is,” Isova agreed, her voice quiet but resolute. “And that’s why this choice is yours. No one is forcing you, Ayo. But whatever you decide, know that we’re with you. Always”

Ayo turned away, his voice trembling. "Why me? Out of everyone, why pick someone who can barely keep himself together?"

Isova stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Because you’re more than enough. Because the moment you walked into our lives, you became a part of us. You’re already our son, Ayo. This... is just a formality."

Ayo turned back to her slightly, his golden eyes shimmering with uncertainty. "But what if I fail? What if I make everything worse? Caelith… he’s so sure of me, but I’m not…"

Isova’s expression softened further, her voice dropping to a tender whisper. "Ayo, every parent—every family—has moments of doubt. We’re not perfect either. You think Caelith and I don’t question ourselves? But love isn’t about perfection. It’s about staying when things aren’t."

His shoulders shook, and he pressed his hands to his eyes. "I don’t know if I can be enough. For any of this."

Isova stepped closer, pulling him into a firm embrace. "You already are. The moment you walked into our lives, Ayo, you changed them. We’re not asking you to be perfect. We’re just asking you to let us be there for you."

His voice broke as he whispered, "What if I ruin everything?"

She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. Her own tears glistened, slipping silently down her cheeks. "Then we’ll pick up the pieces together. Like a family. And I promise you this: no matter what happens, you will never face it alone."

Ayo let out a shuddering breath, his shadows flickering uncertainly around their feet. Slowly, he leaned into her, letting himself cry as her arms tightened around him. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe her words, even if only for a moment.

The air within the room shimmered and rippled, heralding Ayo’s arrival. He materialized seamlessly from the surrounding darkness, his golden eyes catching the faint light and reflecting it like molten metal. Shadows clung to him, undulating with a life of their own, as though responding to his very breath. The space seemed to adjust to his presence, the ambient energy bending around him in subtle acknowledgment.

Eike, Tessa, and Ren froze mid-conversation, their attention snapping to him. Ren’s jaw dropped, and he pointed with exaggerated dramatics. “You’re back already? That’s… fast. Did you even walk?”

Ayo smirked faintly, brushing past him with deliberate ease. “Why walk when you can Shadow Walk?”

Eike groaned, reclining against the couch with a roll of his eyes. “Show-off.”

Ren squinted, his voice adopting a conspiratorial tone. “Seriously, though. That’s not normal. You just poofed in here like some kind of ghost. Are we supposed to be impressed or creeped out?”

Ayo cast him a sidelong glance. “A little of both, maybe.”

Tessa chuckled softly but remained silent, her gaze drawn to the shadows encircling Ayo like a living mantle, their movements hypnotic and deliberate. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as though grappling with unspoken thoughts.

As Ayo’s eyes swept the room, they came to rest on Lirien. She was awake, seated upright on the couch, her legs draped with a blanket that wasn’t quite a blanket. His shadows coiled around her, wrapping her shoulders and arms in a protective cocoon. The tendrils shifted faintly, their movements tailored to her subtle shifts, as though alive to her needs.

Ayo froze, his gaze narrowing as his golden eyes flickered with confusion. “They didn’t disappear?” he murmured, taking a cautious step closer. His shadows should have dissolved the moment he left, their energy dissipating along with his presence. Yet here they were, actively engaging with someone else.

Lirien glanced up, her emerald eyes meeting his with calm clarity. “You’re back,” she said softly. The shadows encircling her seemed to pulse faintly, curling tighter as if acknowledging his return.

“Yeah,” Ayo replied, his voice subdued, almost tentative. He approached slowly, his gaze darting between her and the shadows. “They… stayed?”

Lirien nodded, her fingers brushing over the tendrils with an absentminded tenderness. “They’re warm,” she murmured. “It’s strange, but… nice.” Her voice carried a note of surprise, as though she hadn’t expected to find comfort in something so foreign.

Ren leaned back against the wall, his grin widening into an exaggerated expression of mock terror. “Okay, not gonna lie, it’s a little creepy seeing your shadows babysitting Lirien. Should we be worried, or should I start calling you the Shadow Nanny?” He clasped his hands together in theatrical supplication. “Oh, great and benevolent keeper of spooky blankets, spare us your wrath!”

Ayo rolled his eyes, but a faint smirk betrayed his amusement. Trust Ren to turn anything into a joke, he thought, though a kernel of unease remained at the edges of his mind. His shadows flickered in response, as though mirroring his inner conflict.

Eike chuckled, though his tone carried a hint of wariness. “I’m just saying, Ayo, your shadows are picking favorites. Makes you wonder what else they’re capable of.”

Tessa tilted her head, her expression contemplative. “Maybe it’s not creepy. Maybe they just… care about her. Or you do, and they’re reflecting that.”

Lirien’s voice broke through the chatter, calm but firm. She glanced at the shadows encircling her before turning her gaze to the others. “They’ve never hurt me. If anything, they feel… safe. Like a part of Ayo is always… with me… keeping me safe and watching over me.”

The room fell silent, her words resonating in the stillness. The shadows curled closer to her, almost as if responding to her affirmation. Ren shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck, while Eike’s smirk softened into quiet contemplation.

Ayo hesitated, his gaze lowering as his shadows pulsed faintly. The playful energy from earlier dissipated, replaced by a weighty stillness.

“Caelith wants to adopt me,” he said finally, his voice low and deliberate. His hands fidgeted briefly at his sides before he shoved them into his pockets. His golden eyes flickered downward, avoiding their gazes. “Make me his heir,” he added, the words heavy with significance.

The squad exchanged glances, the gravity of his statement settling over them.

Ren broke the silence first, grinning as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, but being a royal comes with a lot of rules. Can you even follow rules?”

Tessa rolled her eyes, her tone exasperated yet supportive. “You’ve already proven you can handle impossible things. This? This is just another step.”

Eike leaned forward, his smirk giving way to seriousness. “It’s a big deal, Ayo. But it’s not just about you anymore. It’s about what this could mean for all of us.”

Lirien shifted slightly, the shadows curling closer around her as she spoke. Her voice was quiet but resolute, the warmth in her tone softening its intensity. “This is your chance, Ayo. To have a family. To be part of something bigger. You’ve earned it.” She hesitated, her gaze dropping briefly before lifting again, her words measured and sincere. “I know what it’s like to want that… to want a place where you belong. And I think you’ve had that all along with us. But this? This is something more.” Her emerald eyes met his, the faintest tremor in her voice betraying her vulnerability. “You deserve to have someone who looks at you and sees not just what you are, but what you could become.”

Ayo stared at her, momentarily speechless, her words cutting through the uncertainty and resonating deeply. The shadows around her rippled faintly, as though echoing his emotions.

Encouraged by their words, Ayo drew in a deep breath, his shadows calming and steadying around him. The room seemed quieter now, but within his mind, thoughts churned like a tempest. What does it even mean to try? he wondered. What if I fail? What if I disappoint Caelith, Isova… everyone? Memories rose unbidden—his initial struggles at the academy, the whispers of doubt, the countless moments where he’d felt out of place. Yet as his gaze swept over the squad, their unwavering belief in him tempered his fears. Maybe trying isn’t about being ready. Maybe it’s about taking that first step.

He exhaled, his voice steadier now. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. But I think… I have to try.”

The squad exchanged glances, their camaraderie unspoken yet palpable. Ren clapped him on the back, while Tessa offered a reassuring smile. Lirien’s gaze lingered on his, her quiet confidence grounding him. A faint smile tugged at Ayo’s lips as he leaned back, his golden eyes gleaming with determination.

As the weight of his decision settled, Ayo let out a sigh. "I think I need to rest now," he said, glancing at Ren with a faint smirk. "Your bad jokes are exhausting, Ren. They’ve drained my mana reserves." he said, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. The others nodded in quiet agreement, sensing his need for space. One by one, they excused themselves, offering final words of encouragement before leaving the room. Only Lirien lingered, the shadows still wrapped around her like a protective cocoon.

She stood slowly, her emerald eyes searching for his. “Should I go too?” she asked softly.

Ayo didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadows retreating from Lirien as he bent down. Without a word, he lifted her gently, her surprised gasp softening into a quiet laugh.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, setting her down on the bed. The shadows shifted to wrap around her more snugly, their movements deliberate yet calming.

As he turned toward the adjoining bathroom, he paused at the doorway, glancing back at her with a faint smile. “Don’t hog all the blankets,” he added teasingly before disappearing inside.

When Ayo returned, his hair still damp from the shower, the room was bathed in an even deeper calm. Lirien had already dozed off, her breathing steady, her figure barely visible under the blanket of shadows. For a moment, Ayo hesitated, his golden eyes softening as he watched her.

He slipped into bed quietly, maintaining a respectful distance but comforted by her presence. The shadows surrounding them pulsed faintly, a rhythmic cadence that mirrored their synchronized breathing. As the room fell into stillness, Ayo’s thoughts quieted, the weight of the day easing as sleep claimed him.

Ayo stirred, blinking against the soft morning light that illuminated the room. Was filled with the soft, golden light of early morning, streaming through the arched windows and casting intricate patterns that danced across the stone floor,

shifting subtly with the sway of the curtains in a gentle breeze. The light seemed almost alive, catching on the uneven surfaces of the walls and refracting through a crystal ornament hanging near the window, scattering fragments of rainbow hues into the dim corners of the room. The faint hum of mana conduits provided a steady rhythm in the background, blending with the distant chirping of birds and the occasional muffled sound from the academy below.

A slight chill lingered in the air, slowly dissipating as the warmth of the sun crept in. Blankets and pillows lay scattered from the previous night, and a faint glow of shadows lingered near the bed, their presence more subdued yet unmistakably alive. Outside the window, the academy grounds stretched out, bathed in the warm hues of dawn, with a soft mist clinging to the lower edges of the buildings.

His shadows remained coiled loosely around the bed, their presence lighter and less restless than before. Turning his head, he saw Lirien already awake, standing by the window as she tied her hair back. Her movements were precise and quiet, her expression calm.

“Morning,” she said without turning, noticing his gaze through the reflection in the glass. Her tone was light, but there was a measured quality to it, as though her thoughts were elsewhere.

Ayo stretched, his voice rough with sleep. “Morning. Did you sleep?”

Lirien smirked faintly, glancing over her shoulder. “Better than I thought. You?”

“The shadows didn’t try to smother me, so… better than expected,” he quipped, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. His golden eyes flickered with faint amusement, but there was a lingering weight behind them.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, her focus shifting back to the view outside. The light framed her silhouette, casting long shadows that seemed to mingle with the faint tendrils still clinging to Ayo.

The door opened with a soft creak, and Tessa, Eike, and Ren entered one by one. Each carried a distinct energy:

Ren strode in first, his shirt slightly untucked and his expression mischievous. He struck a dramatic pose, one hand on his hip and the other brushing back an imaginary cape. “Morning, squad! How do I look? Dashing? Heroic? Ready to dazzle a room full of nobles?”

Tessa followed, rolling her eyes as she carried a small bag. “Like someone who forgot to button their shirt properly.” She adjusted her bag’s strap with a practiced efficiency, her sharp gaze scanning the room as though mentally cataloging everyone’s readiness.

Eike entered last, his demeanor quiet but focused. He gave Ayo a nod before scanning the room. “We know the summit’s today, but no one said when. Let’s not waste time—it could be at any moment.”

Ren grinned, undeterred. “Relax, Eike. Nobles love a good show. I’m just setting the tone.”

Lirien’s voice cut through the banter, firm but not harsh. “We don’t have time for this. Get ready. The summit isn’t a joke.”

Her words sobered the group, and they began preparing in earnest. Ren tucked in his shirt with exaggerated care, while Tessa checked the contents of her bag again. Eike adjusted his gear with methodical precision, occasionally glancing toward Ayo, who remained seated on the edge of the bed, his expression distant.

While the others moved around the room, Ayo found his thoughts drifting. He stared at the floor, his hands resting on his knees, as his shadows flickered faintly at his feet. The conversation around him faded into a dull hum, overtaken by his own doubts.

What does Caelith see in me? he wondered. Why me? What if I fail? What if I disappoint him, Isova... everyone? His thoughts spiraled back to his first days at the academy, when he had struggled even with the simplest mana exercises. He recalled the quiet murmur of students in the hallways, the way some had cast pitying glances while others openly dismissed him as a lost cause. The memory of a sparring match where he’d been knocked down repeatedly, gasping for breath, lingered sharply. They were right back then, he thought bitterly. Why would it be different now? But another memory rose, unbidden—Caelith’s calm yet resolute voice during a private session: You don’t need to be perfect, Ayo. You need to keep standing. The words flickered like a steady flame in his mind, pulling him back to the present.

Memories of his early days at the academy surfaced—the whispered doubts, the questioning glances, the constant sense of not belonging. His gaze shifted to the shadows near Lirien, their subtle movements steady and comforting. Her words from the night before echoed in his mind.

Maybe trying isn’t about being ready. Maybe it’s just about taking the first step.

Ayo’s hands clenched briefly, the flicker of his shadows mirroring his turmoil. He glanced up to see Lirien watching him from across the room, her gaze steady but unreadable. For a moment, her presence grounded him, pulling him from the spiral of his thoughts.

The room grew quiet as a soft chime resonated, drawing everyone’s attention. A mana orb materialized in the center, its surface shimmering with intricate runes. A familiar voice emanated from it, calm and authoritative.

“Good morning, Squad. You are summoned to the Garnet Tower courtyard at the sixth bell. Punctuality is expected. Today’s events are of great importance, and I trust you’ll meet the expectations placed upon you.”

For a moment, the room remained still, the weight of Caelith’s words settling over them like a heavy mantle. Ren shifted awkwardly, his usual grin faltering. Tessa adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers fidgeting as if searching for something tangible to hold onto. Eike’s jaw tightened, his gaze sharpening as he processed the message. Only Lirien remained still, her expression unreadable as her eyes flickered toward Ayo, gauging his reaction.

The orb dissolved into faint motes of light, leaving a lingering sense of urgency in the room.

Ren was the first to break the silence, adopting a mock bow. “Yes, my lord. Anything else you’d like? Perhaps breakfast in bed?”

Tessa gave him a light shove. “Can you take this seriously for once?”

Eike crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “Caelith doesn’t waste words. If he says it’s important, it is.”

Lirien’s eyes lingered on Ayo, her tone softer. “Are you ready for this?”

Ayo met her gaze, the weight of her question settling heavily on him. He hesitated but finally nodded. “I don’t know. But I’ll try.”

The group moved with purpose now, gathering their things and making final adjustments. Tessa double-checked her bag, muttering about contingencies, while Eike tightened the straps on his gear. Ren fiddled with his coat, muttering complaints about its stiffness.

Ayo stood by the window, watching the sun climb higher into the sky. His shadows pulsed faintly, their movements steady and purposeful, reflecting his growing resolve. He turned back to the group, his voice calm but firm.

“Let’s go. If we’re late, Caelith might just change his mind about that heir thing.”

Ren grinned, clapping him on the back. “Now that’s the spirit! Keep expectations low—it’s easier to impress them that way.”

Lirien muttered under her breath, “That’s not how it works, Ren.”

The group exchanged glances, a quiet understanding passing between them. With one last look around the room, they filed out together, stepping into the sunlight and toward whatever awaited them at the summit.

The journey through the Gray Tower’s corridors was quiet, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls.

The cool air carried a faint scent of aged stone and the lingering traces of mana, a subtle metallic tang that seemed to hum in harmony with the conduits hidden behind the walls. The torches lining the hallway flickered gently, casting wavering shadows that danced along the floor and ceiling, creating an almost ethereal rhythm to accompany their steady pace.

Outside, the courtyard buzzed with faint activity as other students and staff moved about, though the squad’s focus remained on their destination. The Garnet Tower loomed ahead

Its imposing structure casting a long shadow over the academy grounds. As they approached, the weight of the moment settled over them, a shared understanding that this day would change everything.