CHAPTER FOUR: Embers of Disgrace Word Count: 1,678
The grand hall of the House of Ardyn loomed in cold silence. Its obsidian pillars stretched into the high, vaulted ceiling, the ancient sigils of the bloodline carved deep into the black stone. Silver lanterns cast flickering shadows on polished marble, and the air carried the weight of judgment. None dared disturb it—not servant, not guard. All knew the meaning of this gathering.
Seated at the head of the long table was Lord Thalor Ardyn, master of the house. Tall, stern, and draped in ceremonial robes woven from midnight silk and silver thread, he exuded command. His silver hair was bound behind him in a braid, a tradition of the firstborn Ardyn patriarchs. His eyes, pale as a stormy sky, were locked in thought.
To his right sat Lady Virelle, wrapped in a flowing gown of bloodred velvet laced with black veils. Her hands, gloved and crossed in front of her, rested with unnatural stillness. Her eyes—sharp, cold, and unreadable—watched everyone.
Eight other figures surrounded the obsidian table—the Ardyn Elders, cloaked in layers of crimson and black. All bore the serpent crest stitched into their left shoulders, the sign of their authority in the house.
Finally, after a long silence, Elder Maerun spoke. "Three of our agents are dead."
A murmur swept through the council.
"Killed?" asked Nyra, the veiled seer. "By her?"
"Yes," Maerun said. "The maid. Elenore."
Cassian scoffed. The youngest elder leaned forward, the serpent ring on his finger gleaming. "A maid? A girl trained to polish silverware? And she killed assassins trained by House Ardyn?"
"Trained or not," Nyra said, "she's gone rogue."
"She was always too close to the boy," Virelle said coldly. "That mistake lies with us."
Thalor raised a hand. The room quieted.
"Begin. All of it."
Elder Maerun bowed his head. "The three agents entered the western wing shortly after midnight. The boy was asleep in his quarters. The maid intervened before they could strike. Killed the first. The other two gave pursuit through the eastern glade, but their tracking sigils vanished near the Blackroot Caverns. They are presumed dead."
"And Kael?" Thalor asked.
"Escaped."
The word echoed.
"So," said Cassian bitterly, "the failed son and a servant humiliated us."
"Not a servant anymore," Virelle replied. "A traitor."
"A rogue," Nyra repeated.
Thalor stood slowly. His presence filled the room like frost creeping across glass.
"Let it be known: Elenore, former maid of House Ardyn, is now declared ROGUE. Her name will be struck from our records. Her face will be forgotten."
A scribe at the edge of the room recorded the words with cold precision.
"And Kael?" Theron asked. His voice was gravel and age. "The discarded child still bears our blood."
"He was stripped of his name the day we cast him out," Virelle answered. "There is nothing left to claim."
Nyra leaned forward. "The world will not see it that way. They will see an Ardyn son, vanished with a rogue servant. They will whisper of weakness."
"Then we silence them," Thalor said. "Quietly. Swiftly."
Maerun hesitated. "There are... other matters. The region surrounding the caverns has shown traces of unregistered energy. Not mana. Not elemental. Something we've never charted."
Thalor's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"A surge. It lasted seconds. Heat, lightning, distortion—then it vanished. Whatever it was, it wasn't caused by the girl."
Nyra murmured, "Perhaps the boy—"
"He has no Mana Core," Virelle snapped. "We confirmed it. He was born hollow."
"Then something has changed," Maerun said. "Or something awakened."
"Enough speculation," Cassian said. "He's a ghost now. And ghosts don't haunt us. We destroy them."
Thalor nodded slowly. "Send another unit. Silent. No insignia. They are to retrieve the body of Kael Ardyn. And the head of the maid."
A cold silence followed.
Lady Virelle spoke. "And the children?"
All eyes turned.
"Lucien," she continued, "has been informed. He remains loyal."
Cassian chuckled. "Loyal and proud. That one was forged properly."
Thalor nodded. "His Mana Core has stabilized at Red—early stage. He will surpass us all in time."
"And Selene?" asked Maerun.
"Still at Orange Core," Virelle said, voice neutral. "She sees more than she says."
"Like her mother," Theron muttered.
"She will not act without purpose," Virelle added.
Thalor returned to his seat. "Good. Let them learn from this. Weakness will not be tolerated. Even if it wears our blood."
---
Obsidian Spire Academy — East Training Tower
The academy stood atop the jagged cliffs overlooking the Sea of Storms. Built of obsidian-veined stone and Nexis-forged spires, it looked more like a fortress than a school. Lightning rods channeled storms into its arcane forges, and war banners of the major noble houses flapped above its gates.
In the eastern tower courtyard, the air was sharp with the scent of steel and ozone.
Lucien Ardyn stood at the center of the dueling ring, his breath steady, his blade gleaming.
His uniform, black with crimson threading, bore the serpent of his house over his chest. A thin red mantle hung from his shoulder. Sweat slicked his silver hair, and a line of blood marked his opponent's cheek.
He hadn't drawn mana yet.
"Again," he said.
The opposing cadet rushed him, fire spiraling around their arms. Lucien sidestepped, twisted, and brought his blade to the boy's throat before the flame could bite.
"Sloppy," Lucien said. "Your form breaks under pressure."
The boy backed away, panting.
Watching from the platform above, several instructors exchanged glances.
"He's grown stronger," one said. "His core has breached into Red."
"He's proud," another said. "But disciplined."
Lucien stepped from the ring. Students parted around him like water.
One approached nervously. "Your... your brother. He's alive, isn't he?"
Lucien paused. The breeze stirred the red cloth at his shoulder.
"He's not my brother," he said. "He's a shadow that should've faded long ago."
"But if he returns—"
Lucien looked at him, and the boy flinched.
"If he returns," Lucien said calmly, "I will erase him myself."
Far above, hidden behind the outer archway, Selene Ardyn watched.
Slender, quiet, her violet eyes followed her elder brother. Her long coat, gray with sapphire lining, hung like a cloak. Her dark hair was braided behind her in the Ardyn style.
Her Mana Core pulsed faintly beneath her skin—Orange, stable, growing.
She said nothing.
But she remembered Kael. She remembered the way Elenore smiled.
She was watching.
Always.
---
House of Ardyn — After the Council
As the council chamber emptied, Lady Virelle remained.
She approached her husband, voice low. "He will return."
Thalor didn't look at her. "If he is foolish."
"Not foolish," she replied. "Angry."
Thalor's gaze shifted. "You think he's changed?"
"Something in him broke free. The agents didn't die from mere luck."
He exhaled slowly. "We'll be ready."
Behind them, the silver serpent tapestry danced in the breeze. Once, it had hung above all three children's cradles.
Now it watched as a storm gathered.