Two years had passed since Liam had begun his rigorous training under his grandfather and grandmothers. What started as an overwhelming challenge had transformed into an experience he cherished. Adrian Vallis had declared that Liam’s potential was boundless, and his grandmothers had taken it upon themselves to ensure he lived up to that promise.
From the crack of dawn until late into the evening, Liam trained, studied, and learned things no boy his age should have even fathomed. But amid the grueling lessons, there was laughter, love, and a warmth that made it all worthwhile.
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THE TRAINING GROUNDS
The morning air was crisp as Liam stood in the training grounds, his hands wrapped in bandages, his body drenched in sweat. Opposite him stood Lady Helena, the Sword Saint, her piercing blue eyes gleaming with approval.
“Again,” she commanded, her short blonde hair damp with exertion.
Liam lunged forward, his sword moving like a blur, but Helena countered effortlessly. With a swift motion, she knocked his blade aside and tapped his forehead with the hilt of her sword.
“Too slow,” she smirked. “You’re fast, Liam, but not fast enough.”
Liam huffed, shaking his head. “Faster than last time, though.”
“That’s the spirit,” Helena said, ruffling his hair. “Speed is nothing without control. Remember that.”
Nearby, Lady Evelina, the matriarch, observed with a keen gaze. Unlike Helena’s harsh training, she taught him discipline and composure. “A warrior without wisdom is just a brute,” she often reminded him.
Later that day, she had him seated in the estate’s grand library, where she drilled him on politics and strategy. “You must learn to read between the lines,” Evelina said, placing a delicate hand on a parchment. “A single phrase in a treaty can change the course of an empire.”
Liam rubbed his temples. “I think I prefer getting hit by Grandmother Helena.”
Evelina chuckled. “You’ll thank me when you’re leading armies instead of fighting them.”
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MAGIC ROOM
If Evelina was his guide to wisdom and Helena his path to strength, Lady Valeria was the architect of his magic. Seated before an array of ancient tomes, Liam absorbed her teachings like a sponge.
“Magic is about knowledge,” Valeria said, adjusting her glasses. “Knowing how to manipulate mana, how to bend it to your will. That is what makes a true mage.”
Under her guidance, Liam learned to wield all elements, a feat unheard of in the Empire. Fire, water, wind, earth—even the rarer elements, like light and darkness. His affinity for magic was astonishing.
“Boundless,” Valeria whispered in awe after he managed to simultaneously conjure a fireball in one hand and an ice spear in the other.
Liam grinned. “I think I’m starting to like magic more than swords.”
“Don’t let Helena hear that,” she teased, patting his head.
Meanwhile, Lady Catriona, his own grandmother, had made it her mission to both teach and tease him. Whenever Liam came back from training bruised and exhausted, she was always there with a smirk and a mischievous glint in her emerald eyes.
“You poor thing,” she cooed, poking his ribs as he sat by the fire. “If only a certain silver-haired girl were here to comfort you.”
Liam groaned. “Grandmother, please.”
Catriona only laughed. “Oh, come on. You think I don’t see the way you daydream? I remember being that young.”
The teasing never stopped, especially when letters from Lady Elara started arriving more frequently. Catriona would intercept them, reading them aloud in dramatic tones just to watch Liam squirm.
“My dearest Liam,” she cooed, imitating Elara’s elegant handwriting. “I simply cannot wait to see you again. Your gallant nature has completely stolen my heart—”
Liam snatched the letter from her, his face burning. “Stop it!”
Catriona cackled. “I live for this.”
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GARDEN
But not all days were spent training. Some were meant for family.
Liam adored his little sister, Amara, who was now a bright and mischievous toddler. He often played with her in the gardens, much to the delight of Mara and Lilia.
One afternoon, as he chased Amara around the courtyard, he stumbled into Lilia, who had been arranging flowers. She yelped as the bouquet went flying.
Liam smirked. “Oh dear, did I ruin your romantic gesture for Father?”
Lilia shot him a warning glare. “What are you implying?”
He leaned in with a wicked grin. “Just that the walls aren’t as thick as you think.”
Lilia turned bright red. “Liam!”
Mara, passing by, stifled a laugh. “Oh, don’t be too hard on him, Lilia. He’s just growing up.”
Lilia groaned. “He’s growing into a menace.”
Later that evening, as Liam sat by the fire with Amara on his lap, Adrian watched with a proud smile. “You’ve grown, Liam.”
Liam grinned. “I had the best teachers.”
The warmth of family surrounded him, and in that moment, he felt truly at home. Whatever the future held, he knew he would face it not just as a warrior or a scholar, but as a Vallis—strong, wise, and surrounded by love.