Evening settled over Blackwood Keep like a warm embrace.Even before the sun fully dipped beneath the horizon, warm light spilled from every window, golden and inviting against the deepening blue of evening. Lanterns lined the inner courtyard, their soft glow reflecting off ironwork and polished stone. Servants moved briskly but not hurriedly, carrying trays, adjusting settings, ensuring everything was in its proper place.
It was not often that the keep hosted a feast of this scale.
Tonight, it did so for two reasons.
Survival.
And recognition.
Elias Linford Dukker, heir to the Blackwood domain, had returned from the Node not only alive—but victorious. By the customs of the house, by traditions older than the city itself, that meant something.
It meant he was no longer merely a child of the house.
He was a fully fedged Dukker.
And so, the hall was prepared.
By the time the bells rang to signal the start of the feast, Elias and Jamie were already seated.
Clean.
Composed.
Elias sat at the table, his back straight, his hands folded in his lap. His hair had grown longer during his month in the Iron Forest—dark locks that now brushed his shoulders, tied back in a neat ponytail. Two bangs framed his forehead, falling to either side of his face.
Beside him, Jamie fidgeted.
Her indigo hair had grown too, now reaching past her collarbones, pulled back in a matching ponytail. The same two bangs framed her face. She wore a simple dress—Elara's doing—and she looked like she would rather be wearing anything else.
"Aw, you too look so cute." Elara commented.
Jamie blinked then turned away, but the faint tint on her ears betrayed her. Elias smirked.
Elara laughed from the head of the table, Ellaine cradled in her arms. The infant was awake, her red-blonde hair catching the candlelight, her eyes fixed on the flames with quiet fascination.
The main course arrived.
A large platter was set at the center of the table, steam rising from it in soft, fragrant waves.
The leg of the Monocerus Ibex.
Cooked.
Prepared.
Transformed.
Its surface was glazed to perfection, the outer layer crisped and caramelized while the meat beneath remained tender. The scent alone carried a richness that made even the seasoned servants pause.
Miss Gable stepped forward, hands folded neatly.
"The main course was prepared by Cook Martha," she announced with quiet pride.
"She has put considerable effort into ensuring its quality. She wanted the young lord and his friend to know that she... that she wishes them well."
There was a pause. A subtle tension.
Elias remembered Martha. The cook who had berated Jamie in the kitchen.
Jamie smiled.
It was not a forced smile. It was not a forgiving smile. It was simply a smile.
"I will." Miss Gable responded.
Jamie didn't wait though.
"Smells amazing," she muttered, already carving into her portion.
Elias watched as she loaded her plate with a portion that could have fed two people.
Then three.
Then four.
"…you're going to choke."
"I'm fine."
"You're inhaling it."
"It's called eating."
Elias sighed.
"Slow down. It's not going anywhere."
Jamie didn't respond.
Because her mouth was already full.
Elara watched them with a soft smile, gently rocking the baby in her arms.
"You both must have gone through a lot in the Node. What did you even eat?" she asked.
Elias glanced up.
"…we managed."
"Managed?" Jamie echoed between bites. "We almost died like—five times."
"It was more than that," Elias corrected.
"Six?"
"No."
"Three?"
"Thats less than five."
Elara laughed softly.
"Tell us," she said. "What happened?"
Elias and Jamie took turns describing their time in the Iron Forest—the bats, the caterpillar, the hotspring, the long days of hunting and the longer nights of talking. Elara listened with her hand pressed to her chest, her eyes wide, her lips parted. Every time Elias mentioned a close call, she reached for his hand. Every time Jamie described a wound, she reached for hers.
Beth sat across the table, Isra sleeping in her arms. Her expression was neutral. But her eyes—her eyes were soft.
Wilcris sat beside her, more relaxed than Elias had ever seen him. He was not fidgeting. He was not checking his collar. He was simply... present.
After they had reached the bizzareness of fighting two Apex beasts at once, Beth set her spoon down.
"That sounds less like bravery and more like recklessness."
Jamie rolled her eyes.
"Oh, here we go."
Beth looked toward Alaric.
"My lord, why do you still maintain this tradition?" she asked.
"Sending children into that place when even veterans move with caution?"
The room quieted slightly.
Alaric did not answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of his drink, then set the glass down.
"To attune them," he said calmly.
Beth frowned.
"To what?"
"To Flow."
His gaze shifted slightly, distant for a moment.
"The Node is not just a pocket of energy. It is a place where the life of the world runs close to the surface. Like blood circulating through a body."
He looked back at her.
"What better place to learn than the very veins of the world itself?"
Beth considered this. Then she nodded slowly.
"That makes sense. But it's still reckless though, why not wait till they are older or at a higher stage?"
"A sapling can be shaped to be able to tap into the fertility of the earth. once that stage has passed, it can no loger be shaped or tap in. This is not about saplings."
"Hmmm..." Beth thought about his words but decided not to pursue the subject further.
Elias, meanwhile, glanced down at his plate.
'I knew it.'
A faint satisfaction settled in his chest.
'I knew it.'
Beth reached for her bowl of soup—a hot, fragrant broth that steamed in the cool evening air. She lifted the spoon to her lips—and paused.
The heat lingered
Elias raised a finger.
A small bubble of wind spiraled across the table, wrapped around the bowl, and cooled the soup to the perfect temperature.
The steam thinned.
Beth blinked.
Then took a sip.
"Thank you."
Elias shrugged.
"It's nothing."
"So you've finally figured out how to fully utilize your Trait?" Alaric asked.
"Yes father. Wind," Elias said. "It's what I'll use to write my code."
Alaric stared at him.
Wilcris leaned back slightly.
"Well," he began, glancing between them, "I suppose that explains a few things. Though I must say, Beth being appointed as Lady Elara's lady-in-waiting is—"
Beth's foot connected with his shin under the table.
Wilcris coughed.
"…—perfectly reasonable. I'm happy you have the right attitude for the job." he finished weakly.
Jamie snorted and Elias hid a smile at his sacrasm.
Through it all, Ortis remained silent.
Eating.
Observing.
Present, but distant.
Eventually, the conversation circled back.
Elias was wrapping up the recounting of the fight—carefully omitting certain details—when Alaric spoke.
"You did well," he said.
Elias looked up.
"But," Alaric continued, "you were meant to complete the trial alone."
The room stilled slightly.
Elara frowned.
"That's not—" She stopped. Her eyes widened.
"That's not how it was for you. Roric helped you during your trial. You told me." The words slipped out.
And the moment they did—
She realized her hand flew to her mouth. Her gaze shifted slowly toward Jamie.
Jamie noticed and looked up from her plate, a piece of meat halfway to her lips.
"What?"
Elara smiled.
"Nothing."
Just then,Ortis set down his utensils.
The clink of metal against porcelain seemed louder than it should have been, drawing attention.
"I should be leaving," he said casually.
Alaric cleared his throat.
"Ah. Yes. I was just about to mention that."
Elias looked between them.
"Leaving?"
Alaric nodded.
"I was meant to participate in the Privy Council's meetings. They've been summoning me for quite a while now," he explained.
"But because of the attack on Blackhaven, I chose to stay. To fix things. To rebuild." He paused.
"Now I am required to make an appearance. By tomorrow."
Elias's brow furrowed slightly.
"…so you're going to Aethelberg?"
"Yes."
Elias hesitated.
"…can't you stay and go with father tommorow Uncle Ortis?"
Ortis saw through Elias' feigned attempt at being concerned and smirked slightly shaking his head.
"Politics isn't that simple. Every move you make has meaning. You don't just travel with someone because it's convenient."
Alaric snorted.
"That's rich, coming from you."
Ortis ignored him.
"My wife—your aunt has been acting as my proxy," he continued. "Since I'll be attending personally, she'll be coming here."
Alaric frowned.
"What is it with all of you and just showing up at my house?"
Jamie grinned.
"Because it's fun."
Elias glanced to his side. Aina sat quietly beside him.
"You'll leave too?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"I'll stay," she said simply. "And leave when my mother does."
Elias nodded.
"Okay."
Alaric leaned forward slightly.
"Elias, you will come with me to Aethelberg."
Elias blinked.
"…to Aethelberg?"
"Yes."
Alaric's expression was calm.
"You'll inherit my seat one day. It's time you start seeing how things are done."
Elias didn't respond immediately.
Then—
"…alright."
Ortis stood.
He moved toward Aina, leaning down slightly to whisper something in her ear.
She stiffened.
Then turned—
And hugged him.
Briefly.
He patted her head once, then straightened.
As he passed Elias, he ruffled his hair.
"See you in the capital, little mouse." he said.
He walked to the door.
There was a black flash.
Everyone blinked.
Elias exhaled softly and looked back at his plate. It still had a piece of meat left.
Jamie's hand shot out. Elias pulled the plate away.
"No."
Jamie frowned.
"Come on."
"No."
"You're not even eating it."
"I will."
"You're lying."
"I'm sitting."
"One bite—"
"You already ate more than me."
"Because I'm growing."
"How do you even have room for more?"
She leaned closer.
"Give it."
"No."
"…selfish."
Elias ignored her and took a bite.
Jamie clicked her tongue, crossed her arms and slumped in her chair.
The candles flickered. The feast continued.