The grand hall of Castle Emberlight hummed with the air of ancient power. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting multicolored patterns on the stone floors. Banners of orange and gold, emblazoned with the flaming Emberlight sword, hung from the vaulted ceiling, their edges frayed with the passage of time. At the far end of the hall, Lord Steven sat upon a throne of carved obsidian, his imposing figure dominated the space. Behind him was an ornate mantle, etched with scenes of legendary battles, upon which sat the Emberlight sword. The blade was a broadsword which pulsed with an inner fire. It shimmered in hues of red, orange, and yellow, cracking with its latent magic.

Leon’s gaze was drawn to the legendary weapon, and he felt a familiar yearning stir within him. He had always dreamt of wielding the Emberlight, of feeling its power surge through him. To him, it represented more than just a weapon; it was a symbol of legitimacy, a key to unlocking his rightful place in this world. He knew the legends – how the sword chose its wielder, how it felt light as a feather in the hands of the worthy, and impossibly heavy to all others. He yearned for its acceptance, for a sign that he truly belonged.

Beside Lord Steven, perched on a smaller throne of polished jade, sat Lady Ellie. Her eyes, cold and sharp like shards of ice, bored into Leon as he and Simon approached. They knelt before their father; their heads bowed in deference.

"Rise, my sons," Lord Steven boomed, his voice echoing through the hall. "I trust your sparring match has not left you too weary?"

He glanced at Leon, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Congratulations on your victory, Leon. Your skills are impressive."

Lady Ellie's lips tightened into a thin line, her displeasure was evident.

"I am pleased with your progress, both of you," Lord Steven continued. "Your magical abilities and swordsmanship are a credit to your training. And speaking of training..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over his sons. "In one month's time, representatives from the Warden Academy will arrive in Embertown to conduct the Selection Exam."

Leon's heart quickened. The Warden Academy! It was the legendary institution where aspiring warriors honed their skills, where they were forged into protectors of the realm. He had heard tales of the rigorous training, the perilous trials, and the ultimate honor of being named a Warden of Valerune. This was his chance, he realized. A chance to prove himself, to find a purpose beyond the confines of Castle Emberlight, where he was constantly reminded of his illegitimate status by Lady Ellie's scorn.

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"The choice is yours," Lord Steven said, his voice softening. "I will not force you to undertake this path. But know this – serving as a Warden was the greatest honor of my life."

Leon didn't hesitate. "I will take the Selection Exam, Father," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction.

Lady Ellie's eyes widened in disbelief, her expression a mixture of fury and disgust. Lord Steven, however, beamed with pride. Simon, after a moment of apparent surprise, smiled. A look of determination settled on his face. "As will I, Father."

"Excellent!" Lord Steven said, his voice filled with his paternal satisfaction. "I believe you will both make fine Wardens one day. Ser Merrick will oversee your preparations. The training will be arduous, but it will ensure you are ready for the challenges ahead."

The boys bowed their heads in acknowledgment and left the hall, their minds buzzing with anticipation and a touch of apprehension.

As soon as the heavy oak doors swung shut behind them, Lady Ellie erupted. "How could you even consider this?" she hissed, her voice laced with venom. "Sending that... that bastard to the Warden Academy with our son? It's an insult! To Simon, to our family, to me!"

"The Warden Academy does not discriminate based on birth," Lord Steven retorted, his voice firm. "Noble, commoner, bastard – all are welcome if they possess the necessary qualities. Some of the greatest Wardens in Valerune's history came from the most unlikely of places."

"I will not stand for it!" Lady Ellie declared, her voice rising. "I have tolerated his presence all these years, but this is too much. He will not taint Simon's path to glory!"

Lord Steven's patience snapped. "I have allowed you to speak your mind freely," he growled, "but this is where I draw the line. I will not deprive the realm of a potential Warden because of your petty prejudices!" He slammed his fist on the armrest of his throne. "The matter is settled. There will be no further discussion. Do you understand, Ellie?"

Lady Ellie, speechless with rage, glared at him for a moment before storming out of the hall, her footsteps echoing angrily down the stone corridors.

Lord Steven sighed, his anger giving way to weariness. He understood Ellie's jealousy, her bitterness, but he could not condone her blindness. The Wardens were more than just a social order; they were the protectors of the realm, a shield against the darkness that lurked beyond the borders. He hoped that one day, Ellie would understand. But for now, he had more pressing matters to attend to. The Selection Exam was fast approaching, and his sons needed to be prepared.