Chapter 1: House Rest
The mansion of House Rest loomed over the city of Dracaena like a sentinel of stone. Its towers, carved from dark granite and laced with glowing runes, cut stark silhouettes against the gray sky. Everything about it spoke of power, control, and unyielding martial tradition. Inside, the atmosphere was cold but orderly, as if the very walls knew that discipline was expected within.
In a secluded chamber deep within the mansion, Robert Sigismund Rest hovered a few feet above the polished marble floor. The faint shimmer of “Levitate” [1st Circle] surrounded his body, holding him effortlessly in the air. His legs, weakened by years of disuse, hung limply beneath him, but his posture remained straight. Concentration etched lines into his youthful face as he directed his attention to the three skeletal warriors before him.
The skeletal figures were armed with rusted swords, their empty eye sockets staring blankly ahead. Robert raised his hand slightly, and the skeletal warriors mimicked the motion with perfect precision.
‘Control. It’s all about control,’ he thought, narrowing his eyes.
“Parry, feint, riposte!” he commanded, his voice echoing softly in the chamber.
The skeletons moved with a speed and fluidity that belied their bony forms. Two clashed with a series of practiced sword strikes, while the third shifted aside with a quick parry, its sword-arm darting forward in a sudden thrust. Robert watched the display with a critical eye, analyzing every movement.
“Too slow,” he murmured, making a quick flicking gesture with his fingers.
The lead skeleton stumbled back, its stance collapsing under Robert’s telekinetic force. He sighed and let the “Telekinetic Grip” [2nd Circle] fade. The skeletal warriors stood still, awaiting his next command. But Robert didn’t give one.
‘It’s still not enough,’ he mused, letting his gaze drift to his limp legs. ‘Not strong enough. Not fast enough. Not… alive enough.’
The door to the chamber creaked open, and a burst of energy entered the room in the form of a young boy with tousled brown hair. Bogdan, his younger brother, strode in with a wide grin on his face.
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“Robert! Mother said Uncle Frank is arriving today!” Bogdan’s voice, full of enthusiasm, bounced off the stone walls. “He’s probably bringing something amazing from Malcesburgia!”
Robert couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. He gently lowered himself to the ground, the faint glow of “Levitate” fading as his feet touched the floor.
“I know, Bogdan,” Robert replied, his voice soft but steady. “But you shouldn’t barge in like that. I could have been in the middle of—”
“—something terribly important, I know.” Bogdan finished the sentence with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “But you’re always doing something important, Robert. Uncle Frank won’t be here for long, and Mother said you should come to greet him.”
Robert glanced back at the skeletal warriors, still standing in formation. With a casual flick of his wrist, he dismissed them. They crumbled into piles of bones that slid soundlessly into the chamber’s shadowy corners.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” he said, turning back to his brother.
Bogdan’s grin didn’t falter. “Good. You should at least try to look a little more excited. Uncle Frank always brings the best gifts, doesn’t he? Remember the enchanted ink he brought last time? The one that lets you write letters that only the recipient can read?”
Robert nodded absently, though his mind was already drifting elsewhere. Uncle Frank’s gifts were indeed extraordinary, but they weren’t just toys or trinkets—they were tools. Tools that could tip the scales in Robert’s favor one day.
“I wonder what he’ll bring this time…” Bogdan’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you think… maybe something that can help you walk?”
The question hung in the air, and Robert’s gaze darkened. He forced himself to look at Bogdan’s earnest expression. The hope in his brother’s eyes was almost painful.
“I don’t need anything to help me walk,” Robert replied quietly, but firmly. “What I need is to grow stronger. Strong enough that it won’t matter.”
Bogdan’s face fell, but before he could respond, the door creaked open again. A small figure peeked in, bright-eyed and curious.
“Robert? Bogdan? What are you two doing?” Their sister, Julia, stepped into the room, her small hands clutching the hem of her dress. “Mother said we have to greet Uncle together.”
“We’re coming, Julia,” Robert answered, the hint of a smile returning to his lips. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair, earning a delighted giggle. “Lead the way.”
With a quick nod, Julia turned and skipped out of the chamber, her light footsteps echoing through the hallway. Bogdan followed; his earlier enthusiasm dimmed but not gone.
Robert lingered for a moment, casting a glance back at the piles of bones. A low sigh escaped him. He clenched his fists briefly, then turned and began to follow his siblings.
‘Maybe this time… maybe Uncle Frank really will bring something… special,’ he thought, allowing himself a flicker of hope.