When Pierre returned from his walk, he found Mrs. Peyton waiting for him, her posture rigid, as if she were preparing for something important. Upon seeing her, he scratched his head, unsure how to begin the conversation.
Mrs. Peyton raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about what was going through her young master’s mind. “What’s wrong, Pierre? Is something bothering you?” Her voice was calm, but there was a touch of genuine concern.
“No, nothing wrong,” Pierre replied, though his gaze was distant. “I was just thinking... I think it’s time we leave this place behind. It’s time to cut ties with the Staudan family. I don’t want Lady Crarina to think we’re under her control anymore. Let her thoughts about me explode like a supernova.”
Mrs. Peyton remained silent for a moment, processing what he had said. She finally nodded, her expression a mix of understanding and apprehension. Without hesitation, she picked up her shared-reality communicator, and the loyal assistant robot began searching for the best properties in *Astralon*—castles, private islands, and palaces that would make kings and queens sigh with envy.
Pierre smiled, knowing this was typical of her. “Maybe we could try something... simpler?” he suggested, as if testing the waters.
Mrs. Peyton blinked, surprised, as if he had just said something inconceivable. “Simple?” she repeated, her tone suggesting the word was almost an insult. “But young master, we have the resources to live wherever we want, in a way many can only dream of. Why choose something modest when we can have the best the universe has to offer?”
Pierre sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts before answering.
“I understand, Mrs. Peyton, but maybe... that’s the point. I don’t want our lives to be defined by what we have or what others expect us to have anymore. I want to discover who we truly are. Not only that, but I want to explore different places, learn new cultures, and, above all, free myself from Lady Crarina’s expectations. It’s time to do something for ourselves.”
Mrs. Peyton’s expression softened, and for a brief moment, she looked at Pierre with pride, as if finally realizing he was growing up.
“Do you really think Lady Crarina is still watching us?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
Pierre nodded. “Definitely. She will always watch us from afar, at least for a while. But I want something new, something that allows us to start fresh, free from all these chains.”
The assistant robot, listening attentively, adjusted its search and found some more modest, yet cozy accommodations in a peaceful area, far from the hustle and bustle of *Nexus*.
“This looks perfect,” said Pierre, his eyes lighting up with new energy.
Mrs. Peyton glanced at the screen over his shoulder and couldn’t hide a slight grimace. “Young master, this... this doesn’t match your status,” she said, still with a touch of concern.
Pierre shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t care about status,” he replied sincerely. “I want a place where I can learn more about this planet, about the people, and about myself. Away from all the unnecessary luxury.”
She sighed, reluctantly, but she knew he was right. “If that’s what you want, then we can consider this option,” she said, her tone now softer. “I just hope you don’t regret it later.”
Pierre smiled, satisfied. “I won’t regret it. Let’s visit the place tomorrow.”
---
The next morning, they arrived at the location. Pierre was excited to see the simplicity and charm of the area. The accommodations were futuristic, small floating houses suspended in the air by advanced technologies he barely understood. They weren’t the palaces he was used to, but the place offered something he hadn’t realized he was looking for: peace and freedom.
The houses were compact, two-story structures with large windows that let in natural light and offered a stunning view of the horizon. The fresh air carried the scent of flowers growing in the suspended gardens nearby, while Pierre observed the people crossing the floating walkways. They were of all species, conversing in languages he didn’t recognize, each with a visible story reflected in their unique attire and forms.
Pierre, always observant, noticed every detail. Unlike the grand palace of the Staudan Lords he had known, the surroundings here were less grand, but much more alive. He could feel the life pulsing in this place, far from the political games and manipulations of the Staudan family. Here, he felt free to explore and learn, unbound.
He glanced at Mrs. Peyton, who was overseeing the final details of their installation. Despite the change in environment, she maintained her impeccable posture, though Pierre noticed a slight sign of relaxation in her demeanor. Perhaps even she was adapting to the new pace.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The sun was beginning to set, bathing the sky in shades of orange and purple. Inside the house, everything was ready, and Pierre knew it was time to say a temporary goodbye.
They stood in a small room, simply decorated with technological principles, but comfortable. One corner of the room had been deliberately left empty, reserved for the moment that was about to come.
Pierre stood next to Mrs. Peyton, who looked at him with a mix of concern and acceptance. “Are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked softly, knowing he was about to open the door to Avalamite.
He smiled warmly. “It’s just one day, Mrs. Peyton. I promise I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I need to continue my journey. We can’t run from who we are, Mrs. Peyton.”
*With a gentle gesture*, Pierre invoked the magic of Avalamite. Slowly, in the corner of the room, a golden light appeared, taking shape. A finely carved door emerged before them, radiating ancient and powerful energy.
Mrs. Peyton looked at the door, her expression betraying a touch of apprehension. She took a small step back but *kept her gaze steady on Pierre*, as she had always done, supporting him without interfering in his choices.
“Volgrim will be there to receive me,” Pierre said, trying to reassure her. “I’ll be back tomorrow, it’s only one day.”
She sighed softly, as if preparing for a long farewell, but responded with a gentle smile: “I know. But remember, I’ll be here when you return.”
*With one last affectionate glance*, Pierre gently touched Mrs. Peyton’s shoulder, a gesture that spoke more than words. Then, without hesitation, he **opened the door**. The light from the entrance illuminated the room, while the familiar figure of *Volgrim* appeared on the other side.
Volgrim, with his imposing presence, *bowed* to Pierre, as if he had been awaiting his arrival for a long time. “Welcome back, young master,” he said in a deep but welcoming voice.
Pierre took one last look at the room where he had left his previous life, at Mrs. Peyton, who watched him with restrained pride, and then crossed the door. It closed behind him with a soft glow, leaving Mrs. Peyton alone in the silent room, but certain that he was exactly where he needed to be.
---
*The Trial by fire*.
After 11 intense months in Avalamite, Pierre had faced unimaginable challenges. His training had pushed him to his limits repeatedly, and he was no longer the insecure young man who had arrived there. Volgrim, his mentor, carefully observed each step of his progress, patiently guiding him to align his draconic energy with the latent psionic force within him. Now, Pierre stood on the brink of a new test—the most difficult yet: *The Trial by fire*.
The chamber where the test would take place was shrouded in shadows, illuminated only by a blue, icy glow emanating from the floor. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating, and Pierre could sense the tension building around him. Volgrim stood before him, as imposing as ever, his gaze penetrating, marking the importance of the moment.
— “Today, you will face the essence of your own power,” Volgrim said, his deep voice reverberating through the walls. “To master ice, you must understand the heat within. Only when these two elements are in harmony will you be able to move forward.”
Pierre took a deep breath. He had controlled ice before, felt it coursing through his veins like an extension of himself. Ice was his refuge, his anchor. Fire, on the other hand, was something that frightened him deeply—chaotic, violent, always on the verge of spinning out of control.
He closed his eyes, trying to focus. Slowly, he began to feel the familiar power of **ice** flowing within him. The air around him grew colder, and the sweat on his forehead quickly turned to small crystals. The floor beneath his feet was covered in a thin layer of ice, almost shining, reflecting the blue glow of the chamber.
Pierre was in control... for now.
— “Focus,” Volgrim said, his tone calm but firm. “Keep the flow steady. Don’t let the ice consume your essence. Now, bring the heat.”
Pierre hesitated. He could feel the heat inside him, but he wasn’t ready. Fire terrified him. Reluctantly, he tried to summon the heat. But as soon as he began, the ice around his feet intensified. He couldn’t find the balance. The cold began to dominate—his fingers, once pink, were now pale, almost white like the snow forming around his feet. His breath was visible in the air, turning into tiny ice particles.
He was freezing...
— “Warm your heart, Pierre. You’re letting the ice take over. Find the balance!” Volgrim stepped forward, his concern starting to show in his voice.
Panic gripped Pierre. The cold was taking over his mind, infiltrating his thoughts, his body. Desperately, he tried to shift the flow. He called for fire. He forced it to emerge.
And then, in an instant, the ice began to melt. *Flames erupted* from his hands, violent and uncontrollable. Pierre’s eyes widened, unable to believe what was happening. The heat he had summoned so hesitantly now burned with fury. The ice evaporated, and the heat filled the chamber.
He looked at his own hands, flames dancing on his palms, but he couldn’t control them. The fire, instead of obeying, attacked him. The flames crept up his arms, burning his skin. He screamed, the sharp pain overwhelming him, as the once icy chamber turned into a suffocating furnace.
— “Control it! Pierre, stop!” Volgrim shouted, his voice echoing like a desperate command.
But it was too late. Pierre couldn’t stop. He was vulnerable, his power betraying him, and the fire, which should have been his strength, was now destroying him.
Desperate and exhausted, Pierre fell to his knees. The unbearable heat continued to burn his hands as the ice around him evaporated into a thick cloud of steam. His screams echoed in the chamber, the sound of his pain mixing with the crackling of the flames. And then, finally, exhaustion and pain overcame him. His vision darkened, and he collapsed.
*Days Later*
Pierre woke up in a simple room, his hands bandaged and his body still aching with the memory of the pain. The light streaming through the window was soft, and the sound of running water outside brought a tranquility that stood in stark contrast to the chaos he had experienced.
He blinked, trying to remember what had happened. Everything seemed hazy. The flames, the ice... Volgrim’s shout.
Volgrim was there, sitting by his bed, watching him silently. “You held up well,” he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a weight Pierre couldn’t ignore. “Not everyone survives that kind of imbalance. But now you understand, don’t you?”
Pierre nodded slowly, his mind still foggy. “I... failed.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with shame.
Volgrim shook his head, his eyes locked on Pierre’s. “No. You learned.” He leaned slightly forward, his expression stern but full of understanding. “Now you know you can’t fight against your two natures. They are part of who you are. They must coexist. Only then will you be able to master your true strength.”
The silence that followed was long, but not uncomfortable. Pierre, injured and exhausted, processed Volgrim’s words. He knew, deep down, his mentor was right.
— “What happens now?” Pierre asked, his voice firmer, though still full of doubt.
— “Now, you rest,” Volgrim replied. “The next step is to rebalance your energies. But that will come with time. For now, you need to recover. When you’re ready, we will continue.”
Pierre nodded, closing his eyes. He still felt the weight of failure, but now he understood that, to move forward, he would need to accept both parts of his essence. Ice and fire, his strength and his weakness, were two sides of the same coin.
The path ahead would be long and painful, much more arduous than he could have imagined. He had thought that being reborn in another world, even if through sheer luck and undeserved opportunity from the Gods, would be an advantage. Perhaps a new chance.
But now, as he felt the weight of the burns on his hands and the storm of conflicting energies inside him, he realized that this new life carried a heavy burden.
The salvation he had accepted so readily now showed its claws, and the consequences were real, raw, searing into his skin and soul. Starting over wasn’t easy. And the pain—physical, emotional, and unrelenting—reminded him of that with every moment.