Lindon Greenfeather POV

The past few weeks without Rebel had been strange. Even though he only lived with us for a few months, Lillian and I had grown close to him. The boy was an enigma—even my father, who rarely took interest in anyone outside the family, was oddly fascinated by him. I must admit, I’d never heard of a poison nightmare before meeting Rebel. I overheard my father once speaking with another noble about a man under the king’s employ with powers tied to alcohol, supposedly a combination of poison and water nightmares.

“-Indon.”

I looked up to find Lillian standing in front of me; I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t heard her approach.

“What is it, Lilly?”

“Father got word from Grandpa Telluric. He told me to bring you along so we can hear it together.”

I was taken aback. It had only been a few weeks since Rebel left. What could have happened already to make Grandpa Telluric send news?

“Let’s go at once.”

Lilly rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that was the plan, idiot.”

I playfully punched her arm—something I’d never have dared to do before meeting Rebel.

We walked to Father’s office, and Lillian told me about how she swears her lightning turned blue during practice the other day. Everyone knows all lightning nightmares produce yellow lightning, but I think her desire to have our mother’s ice powers has her seeing things. Poor girl.

When we reached Father’s door, I knocked.

“Come in, you two.”

Father was at his desk, reading an extensive letter from Grandpa Telluric. Lillian and I waited in silence, watching him read, as if each line on the page was adding weight to his expression. He finally looked up, sighed, stacked the pages neatly, and placed them in his desk.

“You two mustn’t interrupt me whilst I’m talking, no matter how much you want to ask questions.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Okay, Papa.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Rebel was undergoing intense training with Telluric. He was fighting golems far beyond his level, and apparently, the boy had already expended much of his power performing a stunt as reckless as splitting a lake in half.”

Father sighed again, and I realised I’d never seen him this visibly stressed before.

“After that, he rested a moment, and Telluric—being the ever-vigilant man he is—decided to allow him to face the golems anyway.”

The sarcasm in Father’s voice was thick, but I could sense an undertone of anger as well.

“These golems were crafted by the greatest mind to ever bless these lands, designed to train elite soldiers and make them even stronger. They were made for one-on-one training, yet Telluric put the boy up against multiple, even when his reserves were already drained.”

Father sighed once more, heavier this time.

"The earth golems are the weakest of the bunch, Rebel was able to dispatch them fairly easily after he understood how they worked, however there were two more, and both of them were far stronger than the basic earth golems, he ended up losing an arm, his leg was broken and ripped open—a deep gash by his hip and multiple broken bones scattered all over the rest of his body, but he did win the fight—something I doubt many people in the country could do."

I couldn't believe it, Rebel was far stronger that Lillian and I, so hearing that he sustained such serious injuries makes me wonder if I would have even survived the same situation. I looked to Lillian, the look on her face made me sick to my stomach, it was clear in our short time with Rebel that Lilly had felt something for him, and even though she's older than me she's still so immature, it must be hard to deal with the bad news.

"Father, will Rebel be returning since he's out of commission now?"

"No child, He's already back to training, apparently during the battle he progressed much faster than even Telluric had expected, the old man didn't want to explain it to me in depth but apparently the process in which he lost his arm was 'self inflicted' and it somehow increased his reserves of poison by a great amount, and he learned to solidify his poison into a weapon or shield."

"WHAT! Papa you can't be serious, it doesn't matter how much stronger he is, if he's lost an arm then Rebel's basically useless as a fighter now, he should just come back to us."

I couldn’t help but agree with her, even if I didn’t voice it. Rebel may be strong, but losing an arm was no minor setback. Against a skilled opponent, such a handicap would be a glaring weakness.

Father only raised a brow, his lips curling into a smile.

“I said he lost his arm, child. I never said he was left without one.”

His grin widened, and Lillian and I exchanged a puzzled look.

“You remember my old friend Goland Whitefang, don’t you?”

“Yeah...?”

“Do you remember how he used his nightmare to conjure a stone leg after he lost his own?”

“Where’s this going, Father?”

“Well, Goland went back to Terramalorum with Telluric. He’s there to teach Rebel how to conjure a limb out of his own nightmare.”

“You mean… he’ll have a poison arm?”

“Precisely. It will be an extension of his nightmare—a part of him just as much as the arm he was born with. And if he learns to use it well, it might even offer him abilities he never had before.”

Father looked between us, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. It was clear he was proud, not just of Rebel, but of what he saw as the potential for our family’s strength to become even greater with Rebel’s rise.

I nodded, the weight of the news settling in. For all our concern and protectiveness, Rebel had entered a league of his own.