The heavy air of Zaqor Manor grew even more stifling with the arrival of a royal decree, carried by a messenger clad in the deep crimson and gold of the royal court. The news spread through the marble corridors like wildfire: Marquis Vance, a high noble of immense political influence and a Tier 7 battle mage, was arriving to inspect the estate in a fortnight.
But the Marquis's visit was not merely a formal inspection. It was timed to coincide with the grand Coming-of-Age Ceremony—a sacred rite of passage where the scions of the noble houses publicly demonstrated their magical progress before the high society of the kingdom.
For Ralph, it was the opportunity of a lifetime. The family table that evening was filled with an unbearable energy of anticipation.
"This is your moment, Ralph," Tere murmured, her silver spoon tracing the edge of her porcelain bowl as she smiled warmly at her son. "The Marquis is looking for promising talent to sponsor for the Royal Academy. With your Tier 2 light magic already consolidated, a spectacular demonstration at the ceremony will secure your future. The Zaqor name will once again shine."
Rrejy nodded, his fierce eyes burning with a rare pride. "Indeed. Ralph, you must redouble your training. The Marquis expects nothing less than excellence from my bloodline." His gaze then drifted slowly down the table, landing on Nard, who sat silently in his usual slumped posture, staring at his untouched plate. Rrejy's face hardened, the pride evaporating into disgust.
"As for you, Nard," Rrejy said coldly, his voice echoing in the grand dining hall. "During the Marquis's visit and the Coming-of-Age Ceremony, you will remain in the lower quarters. I will not have a magicless hollow shell dragging down our family's reputation in front of the royal court. You are to serve the guests from the shadows, or better yet, stay locked in your room. Do you understand?"
Nard kept his head bowed, the shadow of his hair hiding the sharp, cool clarity in his eyes. Beneath the table, his fingers curled slightly, but he kept his breathing perfectly steady. "I understand, Father."
"Good," Rrejy grunted, turning his attention back to Ralph's excited chatter.
Later that night, in the damp sanctuary of the servant's passage, the small bird with the jagged scar fluttered down from a high rafter, landing on Nard's shoulder as he leaned against the stone wall.
"The stage is being set, Nard," Beru's resonant baritone echoed directly in his mind. "A Marquis of the kingdom and a public Coming-of-Age Ceremony... It is a dangerous double-edged sword."
Nard looked out the small high window at the moonlit sky, a faint, resolute smile playing on his lips. "They want to hide me away, Beru. They think my presence is a shame."
"Let them think so," Beru replied, his avian eyes glowing with an ancient, golden light. "The longer they believe the shell is empty, the less prepared they will be when the light finally shatters their darkness. But your training must accelerate. A Tier 7 mage like the Marquis will possess senses far sharper than your father or Tere. One slip, and he will see right through your suppression."
"Then make the gravity heavier tomorrow, Beru," Nard whispered, his gaze turning icy. "I'm not going to hide forever. When the ceremony comes, I will be ready."