The boy standing before him now seemed to carry something heavier Something that even the Storm Lord could not name.
The courtyard was swallowed by a heavy, expectant silence, broken only by the rhythmic ...snap-hiss... of the ceremonial fire. Vaelric stood small against the backdrop of the ruined manor, but his posture lacked the typical deference of a child. He carried a stillness that felt ancient, a gravity that seemed to pull the very air toward him.
Valerian stepped forward, his heavy boots crunching on the gravel. He stopped just a few feet from his son, his eyes searching the boy's face for a flicker of the child he knew.
"You said you saw things inside the vault that you were never supposed to see," he said, his voice quieter than before. "You told us that fate had shifted. You have repeatedly spoken as though you know what is coming, yet every time I ask where that knowledge comes from, you tell me that the time has not come for you to explain it."
