"Brother…"
My voice came out quiet .
I stood frozen at the doorway, staring at my brother in disbelief.
He sat silently in the corner of the room, reading calm, still, almost too still.
Something felt wrong. As if the person inside that familiar body… wasn't really him anymore. It didn't feel like him.
It felt like someone or something else was inside my brother's body.
Father and I stood in the doorway.
He pushed the door open, calling his name with trembling hands.
But my brother didn't even turn to look at us. Not once.
Father's eyes softened with joy. He rushed forward and pulled him into a hug.
"My son," he said, voice trembling with relief.
But my brother remained still. He didn't even move. His eyes stayed cold, distant not even a flicker of recognition.
Watching him, my heart sank.
Why did it feel like that wasn't my brother at all? Who was he this stranger wearing his face?
That wasn't him.
That couldn't be him.
When his eyes finally met mine, the air in the room shifted cold, unfamiliar.
Father smiled through tears, believing everything was fine.
But to me, it felt wrong. Deeply wrong.
As I stepped out of the room, the thought wouldn't leave my mind.
" Maybe I'm just overthinking... but what if .. what if .. I'm not ? "
---
Elsewhere, Vaelith sat quietly, eyes lost in thought. Lyanna's words still echoed in his mind.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"I agree with her. Sometimes, it's better to accept a painful truth than live inside a sweet lie. Maybe that's how… we prepare for what's coming."
Rosielle turned to look at him.
Lyanna nodded, her tone calm but heavy.
"In the end, isn't almost everything a lie? This world… it's built on illusions."
Rosielle smiled faintly, interrupting softly.
"Then wherever you find happiness… that's the real thing . "
Their gazes met briefly, unspoken meaning passing between them.
---
When they reached their destination, the air felt different.
The fragrance of flowers that lingered in Rosielle's home was gone replaced by the dry scent of dust and stone.
Huge rocks surrounded them as they stepped down the narrow path.
And there, waiting, was a tall, broad man with a body built like iron. His skin was lightly tanned, his gray hair long and tied back, his eyes the same shade a deep, stormy gray.
He wore only loose, faded trousers simple, practical, like he didn't care about appearances.
Lyanna hesitated for a second. At first, she felt fear.
Then something else something she couldn't name.
The man ignored her and Vaelith completely.
Instead, he strode toward Rosielle, a rare smile forming on his face.
"Miss Rosielle,"he greeted,
bowing his head slightly before pressing a respectful kiss to her hand.
" you arrived earlier than I imagined. It's an honor to see you again."
His tone carried an odd kind of warmth one that made Rosielle smile back.
Turning toward Lyanna,
she said,
"This is Varen Thorne . the artist who painted that mural I once showed you."
Lyanna nodded politely.
"I'm Lyanna. Thank you for allowing me to come."
Varen said nothing.
His gaze shifted toward Vaelith.
"You must be Vaelith."
"I am," Vaelith replied calmly,
"Glad to know you already heard of me."
Varen chuckled.
"No need to hear. Rosielle already told me someone like you would come."
Lyanna couldn't help but think he looks like a prince standing before a warrior. Vaelith looked like a young prince standing before a guardian knight.
And somehow, Varen's attitude carried a hint of irritation, as though something about Vaelith bothered him.
Rosielle, noticing it, smiled quietly to herself.
"Varen, there's something you need to do "
Varen turned toward Lyanna, his tone serious but teasing underneath.
"She looks ordinary enough. I wouldn't have trained her unless my dear Miss Rosielle asked but since she did, I can't refuse."
Lyanna blinked, confused.
Vaelith looked at her too, as if he didn't understand either.
Before either could speak, Rosielle stepped forward, her tone soft but steady.
"Lyanna, you're different from us. You don't have magic or power like we do. You might face danger we can't always protect you from. That's why you must learn to strengthen yourself."
Her eyes turned serious, but her voice stayed gentle.
Vaelith frowned. "You could've told me earlier, Rosielle. She's under my care."
Lyanna stepped forward before the tension could rise.
"It's fine," she said. "She's right. I'll learn."
Inside, though, her heart whispered
If anything happens because of me... I'll never forgive myself.
---
Far away, in another land...
"Ignara Thalrien..."
A cold, distant voice hissed.
"Who dares speak to me like that?"
---
Night fell.
What a strange, formidable person… she thought. I can hardly keep up with the intensity of this training.
...
"Don't waste time. Let's begin today," came the calm, commanding voice.
Lyanna froze, wide eyed. She had just arrived, yet Varen's presence demanded her full attention. Her heart raced. I've just come, and he's already expecting me to match this?
Varen guided her toward a massive stone. With controlled, deliberate strength, he lifted it, and then shattered it into pieces. The fragments scattered across the ground, each a testament to the sheer power in his muscles.
"Now you," Varen instructed.
"Even the smallest shards can be dangerous. Handle them. Shape them. Every piece matters."
Lyanna spent the day under his sharp, watchful gaze. She lifted, dodged,
and moved nearly a thousand tiny fragments.
Hours passed. Pain flared in her right hand, and a faint white line glimmered on her skin thin, subtle, but alive. Lyanna blinked,
confused, sensing something stirring within her, something beyond her control.
Despite exhaustion, she continued. She could not stop. She would not stop.
She needed to prove she could endure, that she could grow stronger.
As the night deepened, Vaelith arrived silently, observing from a distance.
His sharp gaze took in every detail, from Varen's movements to Lyanna's determined posture.
His emerald green eyes reflected a rare intensity, calm yet dangerous.
After observing carefully, Vaelith gave the subtle signal, instructing that the day's grueling session should come to an end, and guided Lyanna to leave, her exhaustion lingering but her spirit tempered by the harsh training.
By midnight, her right hand burned so fiercely that tears pricked her eyes.
Then, suddenly
A faint glow shimmered beneath her skin.
A thin white line, like light itself, traced along her palm.
Lyanna gasped softly, breath trembling.
"What… is this?"
She was alone in her distant room, no one nearby to hear her whisper.
---
Meanwhile, Vaelith found Varen outside, standing among three massive stones carving new symbols with his bare hands.
Varen didn't turn. "You're up late, Vaelith. What brings you here?"
Vaelith's voice was low and steady.
"The way you trained Lyanna today was that really necessary?"
Varen chuckled quietly.
"You care too much about that girl. Maybe more than you should."
He looked over his shoulder, smirking.
"Besides, everything I teach her has purpose. She has no magic . she must become faster, stronger. Fast enough to dodge even the smallest attack."
---
Back in her room, Lyanna clutched her glowing hand.
The pain faded slowly replaced by a strange warmth.
When she opened her eyes, the light was still there, faint but alive, running across her skin like a whisper of power.