The heavy iron door creaked open as the two Water Riders roughly shoved Shaker into the cell where his master was being held.

The gruff man stumbled, his hands bound behind his back with mana-draining cuffs.

His eyes darted around the space before settling on the restrained figure in the corner.

“Professor?”

Shaker’s voice was hoarse, disbelief evident in his tone.

Iakopo looked up slowly, his intimidating presence diminished by the chains that bound him.

The scar across his face was redder than usual, giving him a rather sorry look.

“Shaker,” he acknowledged. “So they got you too. You should have left the port without me. They’re going to involve you in this nonsense, aren’t they?”

The female Water Rider stepped forward with disgust painted all over her face.

“You two can reminisce about your crimes together,” she spat. “We’ll be back for your formal sentencing soon enough.”

With that, she and her partner retreated, slamming the door shut behind them.

The sound of the lock engaging echoed through the small space, leaving Shaker and Iakopo in the depressed silence of the cell.

Shaker walked awkwardly to the opposite wall of the Professor’s, using his back to slide down and sit on the cold stone.

For a long moment, neither man spoke.

“Milord,” Shaker said, in a tone of voice completely different from the usual.

The man cleared his voice.

“Milord,” Shaker repeated, his accent suddenly growing formal and deferential, a stark contrast to his usual gruff manner. “We cannot allow this travesty to continue.”

Iakopo looked up, surprised.

He hadn’t expected the man to change to…

Well, it appeared that the pirate-like affectation was gone for the moment, replaced by the proper speech of a well-trained servant.

“What would you have me do, Shaker?” Iakopo asked, his voice heavy with resignation. “Whoever fabricated this clearly knew what they were doing.”

Shaker straightened his posture despite the discomfort of his bonds.

When he spoke again, his voice carried the weight of years of loyal service.

“With all due respect, Lord Iakopo, you are a son of the esteemed Kane family. You should lean onto your position, whether your father wants to lend his support or not. It is beneath your station to accept such false accusations without a fight. Why did you even allow these two mongrels to put cuffs onto you in the first place, milord?”

There had been a striking transformation in Shaker’s speech and bearing as if a mask had been lifted to reveal a different person entirely.

Iakopo sighed, shaking his head.

“The Kane name means little now, old friend. And, as far as the cuffs go,” Iakopo said, shaking his restraints, “perhaps this is the price I must pay for my failures.”

“I beg to differ, milord,” Shaker responded, his tone growing more insistent and prickly. “The fate of Placid City clearly hangs in a delicate balance. Cultists must be behind this, milord. That despicable man will resurface once again, and you’re the only one who can fight him off now that the Principal is so old.”

Iakopo felt like his scar was burning at the sole mention of that person.

“They won, my friend,” Iakopo said dejectedly. “I… I want to be done with this. Twice, I’ve made a mistake. Now, it’s time to rest.”

“Milord,” the gruff-looking man said with great composure, “your only sin was to trust too much. You’ve been avulsed from the Academy and its people for the past twenty years. I’ve served after you since the day you were born, and, as my duty commands, I’ve never let my tongue get in the way of your development, no matter how dire the situation got. But here, milord, I must drop all my manners and tell you that you’re being a damn fool.”

Iakopo raised an eyebrow at the man.

“Shaker—”

“Milord,” Shaker said, “I would ask you to address by my name today, of all days.”

Iakopo was surprised by the request but nodded slowly.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Saikai.”

* * *

Forty-Years Prior

The storm clouds gathered over the Kane estate, dark and heavy, rumbling with distant thunder.

The air was thick, and a sense of anticipation hung over the grand halls of the mansion.

Inside, Lord Kane paced back and forth in his study, his footsteps muffled by the rich, velvety carpets.

His gaze kept drifting to the window, where flashes of lightning lit up the turbulent sky and then to the closed door that led to his wife’s chambers.

She was in labor, and the tension in the manor could be cut with a knife.

Standing nearby was Saikai, a young man not much older than a boy, dressed in the formal attire of a special branch of the Kane Family.

Despite his youth, his posture was straight, and his eyes were laser-focused.

“Saikai,” Lord Kane said abruptly, stopping his pacing. “You understand the responsibility I’m entrusting to you?”

“Yes, my lord,” Saikai replied, his voice steady.

“My son will be born tonight,” Lord Kane continued, glancing briefly toward the door as another muffled cry echoed from beyond. “He carries the future of our family. He will need someone by his side—loyal, unwavering. Are you prepared to be that person?”

Saikai met his gaze. “I am prepared, my lord.”

Lightning flashed again, illuminating the room for a brief moment. Lord Kane took a deep breath. “From this night forward, like your family has protected me and my father before me, and the father of my father, you will be bound to him. Protect him. Guide him. Serve him with all your heart.”

A particularly loud clap of thunder shook the windows, causing both men to glance outside.

The sky had taken on an unnatural blue hue, the clouds swirling in patterns that seemed to defy natural law.

Flashes of azure lightning illuminated the study in brief bursts.

“An azure storm,” Iakopo’s father murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. “It is said such storms herald the birth of great warriors.”

He turned back to Saikai, his expression solemn.

“If these omens are anywhere close to being real, he’ll be the next Chosen and his older sister, his Shield. This boy will most likely become the next Lord Kane, Saikai. And I need someone outside his family to watch over him, to be there to support him no matter what. Are you ready for that?”

“Milord,” Saikai bowed his head.

“My son will need a protector worthy of his potential. Are you truly prepared to dedicate your life to this task? If so, bend the knee.”

Saikai took a deep breath, then dropped to one knee.

“Your oath,” the lord commanded.

“I am, my lord. I swear on my life and honor to serve and protect your son until my dying breath. My life is his, my strength is his, and my very being exists to ensure his success and safety.”

As if in response to his oath, a bolt of blue lightning split the sky, brighter and more intense than any before.

It illuminated the room in an otherworldly glow, casting long, twisting shadows across the walls.

The thunder that followed was deafening, seeming to shake the very foundations of the mansion.

At that same moment, piercing through the rumble of thunder, a baby’s cry rang out from the next room.

Lord Kane’s eyes widened.

He looked from the door to Saikai, then back to the raging storm outside.

“It is done. The spirits of lighting themselves bear witness to this oath.”

He reached out, placing a hand on Saikai’s shoulder.

“Rise, Saikai. From this day forward, you are bound to my son, Iakopo Kane. May you serve him well, and may your loyalty never waver.”

Saikai stood, his eyes shining with determination and a hint of moisture that might have been unshed tears.

“I will not fail you, my lord. Nor will I fail young master Iakopo. My life is now entwined with his, and I shall ensure that he rises to the greatness that is his birthright.”

* * *

Three years had passed since that stormy night. In the vast gardens of the Kane estate, a small figure darted between meticulously trimmed hedges of giant bushes and flower beds.

Three-year-old Iakopo, with his messy dark hair and bright, curious eyes, was a bundle of energy barely contained in his tiny frame.

“Young master, please be careful!” Saikai called out, his normally composed demeanor in shambles as he tried to keep up with the possessed toddler.

Iakopo giggled, ducking behind a large ornamental fountain that the kid had almost tipped over twice just that week.

His laughter, however, echoed so joyously around the place that it almost made Saikai cringe because of the contrast with the usually stern atmosphere that pervaded the Kane household.

In the distance, Iakopo could see his older sister, Hi’iaka, training with their father.

At seven years old, she was already showing promise as a future Shield.

But the young master, Saikai thought to himself, had already shown a talent that defied reason and logic.

Young master Iakopo, Saikai reasoned, might grow to become the strongest man the Great Archipelago of Nā Moku Kai had ever witnessed.

However, Lord Kane treated the toddler like a soldier more than he treated his son, and that was reflected in how the young Iakopo interacted with his parents.

Iakopo watched for a moment, a flicker of longing in his young eyes, before turning back to his game of chase with Saikai.

The young butler was the only one who had the time and patience to play with the kid.

“Found you!” Saikai announced, rounding the fountain with a triumphant smile.

Iakopo squealed in delight, launching himself at Saikai’s legs.

The young man caught him easily, swinging the boy up into his arms.

“Again, again!” Iakopo demanded, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Saikai chuckled, setting the boy down gently.

“As you wish, young master. But perhaps we could play a calmer game? One that doesn’t involve quite so much running?”

Iakopo pouted for a moment, then brightened.

“Okay! You hide, I seek!”

“Very well,” Saikai agreed, relieved at the prospect of less physical activity. “Close your eyes and count to ten, young master.”

Iakopo screwed his eyes shut, his small face scrunching up in concentration as he began to count.

“One... two... fee...”

Saikai smiled fondly at the boy’s attempt, moving to hide behind a nearby tree.

He made sure to stay partially visible, not wanting to make the game too difficult for the young child.

“...nine... ten!” Iakopo opened his eyes, looking around eagerly.

It didn’t take him long to spot Saikai’s form behind the tree.

With a cry of triumph, he raced over.

“I found you!” he exclaimed, his face beaming with pride.

Saikai emerged from his hiding spot, kneeling down to Iakopo’s level.

“Well done, young master! Your observation skills are truly impressive.”

Iakopo basked in the praise, then frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in concentration.

“Sai... Sai...” he struggled with the name, his young tongue not quite able to wrap around the syllables.

“Saikai,” the young man supplied gently.

“Shaker!” Iakopo declared proudly, clearly pleased with his approximation.

Saikai blinked in surprise, then let out a warm laugh.

“Close enough, young master. If it pleases you to call me Shaker, then Shaker I shall be.”

Iakopo clapped his hands in delight, repeating the name.

“Shaker, Shaker!”