The morning after the ceremony slipped gently, with each family welcoming the future to children granted by the will in celebrations.
The sky, dappled with soft cloud light, hung low above the quiet Astarlyn household. Even the birds, normally busy with their jubilant songs, chirped with a kind of reverence as though the world itself was celebrating.
Beneath the great old tree in the courtyard, Azaryel sat cross-legged, eyes closed, lost in thought. The cool breeze played with his hair, but he hardly noticed. He was still thinking about the ceremony, about the stars, the spiral steps, the voice… the weight of what was coming.
When they had returned home, he had asked his parents, "Why was everyone looking at me like that?"
Elarinya had gently cupped his cheek and said, "Don't worry about the looks, Ryel. When the time comes, you'll understand."
And his father had simply placed a strong hand on his small shoulder and smiled, a smile that said everything is alright… even if it doesn't feel like it right now.
But the unease hadn't faded. He could still feel the gazes from yesterday eyes filled with awe, reverence, and something else… expectation. Even if they meant no harm, it made him feel exposed.
The voice from the spiraling steps echoed again in his mind:
In three days, someone will guide you to the Cave of Serendipity… where your will shall be tested… through pain.
His small fingers gripped the grass beneath him.
When he had started telling his father about what he saw inside, Drayelion had gently but firmly stopped him.
"That place is sacred, Azaryel. What happened in there is yours alone. To speak of it may have consequences."
A strange loneliness had crept into him since then. He felt like a single leaf pulled from the tree called home, now drifting on the winds of fate, unsure where he might land.
The silence broke with the sound of soft footsteps.
"You've been sitting here since the ceremony this morning," said a calm, familiar voice.
Azaryel turned.
Aokiran stood there, with loosely tied robes, a tray in hand. On it was a bowl of warm rice, a poached egg, and sweet golden fruit.
"I thought you might be hungry," he said simply, setting the tray beside him.
Azaryel nodded, his voice quiet. "Thank you, elder brother."
Aokiran sat down next to him, folding his legs, resting his hands on his knees. For a while, they just sat in silence, letting the time pass slowly around them.
Then Azaryel whispered, "I'm… afraid."
Aokiran looked at him, his expression gentle. "Don't be. We're all here."
"But I was told…" Azaryel hesitated, " In the next step a lot of pain awaited"
"It might," Aokiran said. "But pain doesn't always mean something bad. Sometimes, pain is just part of growing."
Azaryel looked uncertain. "Even if it really hurts?"
Aokiran gave a soft smile. "Especially then."
He paused, then added, "We all have our own path. Father and Mother had theirs. I had mine. Xena had hers. Now it's your turn, little one. Don't let it weigh on you too much."
Azaryel stared at the tray, brows furrowed.
Aokiran chuckled, then nudged him playfully with his shoulder. "Worrying won't make it hurt less or more. But it will make you miss this moment. Live it. Yes, prepare but don't stress. If you've done your best, then let go. Keep your peace."
He tapped his brother's chest gently. "When the time comes, what matters most is not just your strength but your clarity."
Azaryel gave a small smile. "Thank you."
Then, hesitating, he asked, "Will you be here… when I leave?"
Aokiran nodded. "I will. Lady Yunsera agreed to delay our departure. I told her I couldn't leave until I saw my little brother smile again."
A breeze passed between them soft, like a blessing.
From the balcony, Elarinya watched them, her heart full, eyes misted with silent joy.
While the brothers shared their moment under the tree, another presence had arrived at the gates of the Astarlyn home.
Drayelion stood at the threshold, beside Xentharya, who bowed respectfully.
The Grand Chair herself, Aelthira Tenkai, had come to visit.