The door clicked shut behind him.
Kael stood there for a moment, his hand still resting on the handle, as if leaving was still an option. The room was quiet, but the silence wasn't empty. It pressed against him, heavy, waiting.
Valeria stood near the wide glass window, her back to him.
The city of Westbridge stretched beyond the glass, lights flickering in the distance like nothing had changed. Like everything inside this room wasn't quietly falling apart.
She didn't turn.
Her arms were folded neatly across her chest, posture straight, composed. Silver and black strands of her hair fell down her back in smooth contrast, untouched by the tension in the room.
Kael exhaled slowly and stepped forward.
"Valeria…"
No response.
He stopped a few steps behind her, his gaze fixed on her reflection in the glass. Her face was calm. Too calm.
"I know you're upset," he said. "And you should be."
Still nothing.
His jaw tightened slightly before he continued.
"I shouldn't have lied to you."
That made her move.
Not much.
Just a slight shift of her head.
But it was enough.
Kael took another step closer, his voice quieter now.
"I know I told you I was going to see Aramis," he said. "I wasn't."
A pause.
"I went to the Hollow."
The words settled in the room like something heavy being placed between them.
Valeria finally turned.
Slowly.
Her violet eyes met his, steady and unreadable. There was no surprise in them. No shock.
Just confirmation.
"I know," she said.
Kael's brows pulled together slightly. "You—"
"I know where you went," she cut in, her voice even. "I just wanted to hear you say it."
Silence.
Kael swallowed once, then nodded faintly.
"Then you know why."
Valeria tilted her head just slightly, studying him.
"Do I?"
Her tone wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
Kael held her gaze. "Draco needed help."
There it was.
The shift.
Subtle, but sharp.
Valeria's eyes hardened, just a fraction.
"So you left," she said. "Without a word. Without a plan. Without telling me anything."
"I had to—"
"You chose to."
The correction was immediate.
Kael inhaled slowly, steadying himself. "I chose to help my son."
Valeria let out a quiet breath, something close to a laugh but stripped of warmth.
"Your son," she repeated.
She took a step toward him now, heels tapping softly against the floor. Each step measured.
"And what about your other sons, Kael?" she asked. "Did they stop being yours while you were gone?"
His jaw clenched.
"That's not what I'm saying."
"No," she said, stopping just in front of him. "You're not saying anything. That's the problem."
Her eyes searched his face now, sharp, almost accusing.
"You disappeared," she continued. "Do you understand that? You vanished. No explanation. No contact. Nothing."
Kael's voice dropped. "I came back."
"Barely."
That landed.
Her gaze didn't waver.
"You came back broken," she said. "Weak. You could barely stand, Kael."
He looked away for a brief second, then back at her.
"I'm fine now."
"That's not the point."
Her voice sharpened just slightly.
"The point is that while you were chasing whatever you thought you'd find in that place, everything here was falling apart."
Kael stepped closer now, closing the small distance between them.
"I fixed it."
"Yes," she said. "After."
Silence stretched.
Tight.
Controlled.
Then,
"You left me."
The words were quieter this time.
But heavier.
Kael stilled.
Valeria's gaze dropped for a brief moment, then returned to his.
"You left me to handle everything alone," she said. "The company. The pressure. The uncertainty of whether my husband was alive or dead."
Her voice didn't break.
That made it worse.
Kael's expression softened, guilt flickering across his face.
"I didn't mean to"
"But you did."
She stepped back slightly, putting space between them again.
"And for what?" she asked. "For him?"
Kael's eyes hardened.
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
Valeria stared at him.
Then something in her expression shifted.
Not anger.
Not shock.
Something colder.
"So it was worth it?" she asked.
Kael didn't respond immediately.
"I would do it again."
Silence.
Thick. Suffocating.
Valeria let out a slow breath, her lips pressing together.
"Of course you would," she said quietly.
She turned away from him, walking a few steps before stopping again.
"You risked your life," she continued. "You risked this family… for a child who can't even function properly in the world we live in."
"Valeria"
"No."
She turned sharply this time, her eyes flashing.
"Don't."
Kael stopped.
Her gaze burned into his now.
"All of this," she gestured slightly around them, "everything we've built… you were willing to throw it away for him."
"I wasn't throwing anything away," Kael said, his voice tightening. "I was trying to fix something."
"You can't fix him."
The words came out clean. Precise.
Brutal.
Kael went still.
Something in his expression changed.
"Watch your words," he said quietly.
Valeria held his gaze, unflinching.
"Or what?"
A beat.
Kael didn't answer.
The silence between them stretched again, heavier this time.
Then Valeria exhaled softly, shaking her head.
"I don't have the energy for this," she said.
She walked past him, brushing his shoulder lightly as she moved toward the door.
"Valeria"
"I heard you," she said without stopping. "You've apologized."
Her hand rested on the door handle.
"But that doesn't mean I forgive you."
She opened the door.
"And it certainly doesn't mean I understand you."
Then she stepped out.
The door closed behind her.
Kael stood there alone.
The city lights reflected faintly in the glass.
But this time
He didn't look at them.
The streets of Westbridge were dimly lit now, the sun already swallowed by the horizon. Neon signs flickered awake one by one, painting the glass buildings in streaks of blue, amber, and cold white light.
A sleek black sedan moved through traffic smoothly, engine low and steady like a controlled breath.
Inside, Kael sat in the driver's seat.
His posture was straight, almost too controlled, like he hadn't fully relaxed all day. He wore a fitted dark charcoal suit, the tie loosened slightly at his collar. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled just enough to show faint tension in his forearms like he had been holding himself together too tightly for too long.
His steel grey eyes stayed on the road.
But his mind wasn't.
Beside him, Varek leaned back in the passenger seat like he owned the air around him. His jacket was still on a deep navy blazer over a black shirt, unbuttoned at the top. One hand rested casually on his thigh, the other tapped lightly against the window edge in a rhythm that suggested he was enjoying Kael's silence more than the ride itself.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Just the hum of the car.
The passing lights.
The distant noise of Westbridge life unfolding outside their bubble.
Then Varek tilted his head slightly.
"You're driving like you're negotiating a war treaty," he said.
Kael didn't look at him. "I'm driving normally."
Varek gave a low laugh. "That's what I'm worried about."
Kael exhaled through his nose, a faint trace of annoyance breaking through his controlled expression.
"You've been quiet since work," Varek added, watching him now. "That's never a good sign."
Kael's grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
"She's still angry," he said finally.
Varek raised a brow. "Valeria?"
Kael nodded once.
"Of course she is," Varek said, almost amused. "You disappeared into the Hollow, came back half alive, and didn't think that might cause… friction?"
Kael shot him a brief look. "You're enjoying this too much."
"I'm not enjoying it," Varek corrected, smiling faintly. "I'm observing it."
A pause.
Then Kael let out a dry breath. "She's blaming Draco again."
That made Varek's expression shift slightly.
"Still?"
"Yes."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Like everything revolves around him."
Varek turned slightly in his seat now, more attentive.
"And you?" he asked. "Do you think it does?"
Kael didn't answer immediately.
The car passed under a bridge of glowing lights, briefly casting shadows across his face.
"I think she doesn't see him the way I do," Kael said quietly.
Varek hummed. "That's obvious."
Kael glanced at him. "You're not helping."
"I'm not trying to."
A beat of silence.
Then Varek leaned back again, stretching his legs slightly.
"You know," he said casually, "when you were younger, you didn't get this worked up over anything."
Kael's lips twitched faintly despite himself. "I didn't have a wife trying to burn me alive every five minutes."
Varek laughed, louder this time.
"Fair."
The tension in the car eased just slightly after that. Not gone just softened at the edges.
Varek turned his head toward the window, watching the city blur past.
"You should apologize properly," he said after a moment, tone shifting slightly.
Kael sighed. "I did apologize."
"No," Varek corrected. "You explained. That's different."
Kael glanced at him again.
Varek continued, more thoughtful now. "Valeria doesn't want logic right now. She wants proof you still choose her."
Kael didn't respond immediately.
His fingers tightened once on the steering wheel.
"What kind of proof?" he asked.
Varek smirked slightly, like he had been waiting for that question.
Now his tone lightened again.
"Flowers. Something she likes. Or better something unnecessary."
Kael frowned slightly. "Unnecessary?"
"Yes," Varek said, pointing lightly as if lecturing. "Something that says: I didn't do this because I had to. I did it because I thought of you."
Kael looked unconvinced. "That sounds inefficient."
Varek turned to him fully now, eyebrows raised.
"You are impossible."
Kael gave a faint, reluctant smile.
"You're worse than her," Varek added.
Kael scoffed softly. "That's not possible."
Varek grinned. "Oh, it is."
A brief silence settled again, but this one wasn't heavy. It had movement in it now. Life.
Then Varek leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret.
"Also," he said, "don't underestimate romance."
Kael side-eyed him. "You're giving relationship advice now?"
"I'm married by philosophy," Varek replied smoothly. "Not by paperwork."
Kael shook his head, but there was a faint ease in his expression now.
"You've changed," he said quietly.
Varek smiled at that, softer this time.
"So have you."
The words lingered for a moment longer than the joke.
Outside, Westbridge lights reflected across the windshield like drifting stars.
And for the first time that day,
Kael didn't feel like he was holding the entire world up alone.
Rain tapped steadily against the tall dorm window, soft but persistent, like it had all the time in the world.
The room was dim, lit by a single lamp on the desk.
Draco sat there, posture straight, a book open in front of him. His black and white hair fell slightly over his face, shadowing his golden eyes as they moved across the page.
But nothing was registering.
Across the room, Lucius sat by the window, one leg pulled up, the other hanging loosely off the bed. He watched the rain with a grin that didn't match the quiet mood of the night.
"I can't wait to see my parents" Lucius said suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness.
Draco didn't look up.
Lucius turned toward him, eyes bright.
A pause.
Draco flipped a page calmly.
"We're not allowed to see our parents except on visitation day," he said flatly. "So why are you excited now?"
Lucius blinked, then let out a small laugh.
"Because it's in three days."
That made Draco stop.
His fingers rested on the page without turning it.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
"Three days?" he asked.
Lucius nodded, still smiling. "Yeah. Didn't you notice how fast time's been going? It's already been six months."
Six months?
The number settled quietly.
Draco's gaze dropped slightly, as if trying to measure that time in his head.
It didn't feel like six months.
It felt… shorter.
Or maybe emptier.
He looked back at his book.
But his mind had already moved away from it.
Silence stretched between them for a moment.
Lucius went back to watching the rain, still smiling to himself.
Draco stayed still.
Then, after a while.
He spoke again.
"How would they know?"
Lucius glanced back at him. "Know what?"
Draco's eyes stayed on the desk.
"The visitation day," he said. "How would our parents know when to come?"
Lucius blinked, then shifted to sit properly.
"Oh. That."
He leaned forward slightly, more engaged now.
"The academy sends letters," he explained. "Three times."
Draco didn't move.
Lucius counted lightly on his fingers. "First one goes out two months before. Then another one two weeks before. And the last one…" he paused briefly, then grinned, "two days before visitation."
Draco's gaze shifted slightly.
"Two days…" he repeated quietly.
Lucius nodded. "Yeah. So that means the last one should already be there by now. Or getting there."
Draco didn't respond.
But something in his expression stilled.
Three times.
The thought came quietly.
Lucius stretched his arms. "So yeah. There's no way they won't know."
Draco's fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the desk.
Not visibly.
Just enough.
His eyes stayed on the open book.
But the words had blurred.
They know.
A small pause.
Will they come?
The question rose slowly.
Carefully.
Not sharp.
Not heavy.
Just… there.
His mind moved again.
Father would come.
That part felt certain.
Firm.
Steady.
Then,
Mother…
A brief stillness.
Would she?
Had her anger changed?
Had anything changed?
Or was it still the same as the day he left?
His gaze lowered slightly.
Do they even think about me?
Lucius glanced at him again.
Draco hadn't turned a page in a while.
His eyes were on the book, but there was no movement. No reading.
Just stillness.
Lucius' expression softened a little.
"Hey," he said.
Draco didn't respond immediately.
Lucius leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
"They'll come."
Draco's eyes flickered, but he didn't look up.
"It's your first visitation," Lucius added. "There's no way they'd miss that."
A pause.
Then he smiled again, trying to make it lighter.
"You might even see them before I see mine."
Draco closed the book slowly.
The soft sound echoed in the quiet room.
He nodded once.
Small.
Subtle.
"We should go eat, it's dinner time is almost over," he said.
Lucius perked up immediately. "Finally. I thought you'd stay there all night."
Draco stood, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape.
Lucius jumped off the bed, energy returning easily. "Come on, if we're late, we're getting the worst food."
Draco walked toward the door.
Lucius followed, still talking.
But just before Draco stepped out
His thoughts lingered, quiet and unresolved.
Three times.
They know.
A small pause.
…They should come.
Kael sat at the head of the table.
He had changed from his earlier suit jacket, now in a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled just below his elbows. His red and black hair was slightly loosened from the day, but his posture remained firm, composed, a man who carried authority even in silence.
To his right sat Valeria.
Elegant as ever.
Her silver and black hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, untouched, precise. She wore a fitted dark gown that clung effortlessly to her frame, the fabric catching the chandelier light with every subtle movement. Her violet eyes were calm, unreadable, as she lifted her glass with measured grace.
Across from them sat the three boys.
And they were no longer children.
Cedric sat closest to Kael's left.
Midnight blue hair, neatly styled, his posture straight, shoulders squared with quiet confidence. His brown eyes carried a steady calm, observant, thoughtful, the kind of gaze that measured before speaking.
Beside him, Kendrick leaned back slightly in his chair.
Golden brown hair, a little less controlled, falling naturally over his forehead. His green eyes moved more than Cedric's, sharper, analytical, always watching. There was a quiet intelligence in the way he held himself, like he was always thinking two steps ahead.
Frederick sat at the far end.
Silver hair catching the light, slightly tousled in a way that felt intentional rather than careless. His grey eyes held a restless edge, something more expressive, more impatient. He sat a little more relaxed than the others, one arm draped over the chair like rules were suggestions rather than structure.
Dinner had already begun.
The faint clink of cutlery against plates filled the silence.
Then Valeria spoke.
"I must say," she began, her voice smooth, controlled, "I'm proud of you all."
The boys looked up.
Kael's gaze shifted slightly toward her.
"You've grown," she continued, her eyes moving between them. "More than I expected in such a short time."
Cedric nodded slightly. "Thank you, Mother."
Kendrick gave a small smile. "We try."
Frederick smirked faintly. "Some of us more than others."
Kendrick shot him a look. Cedric ignored it.
Kael leaned back slightly in his chair, studying them.
"You're nearing the end of your time at Lorien Academy," he said. "Which means decisions need to be made."
His eyes settled on Cedric first.
"What are your plans?"
Cedric didn't hesitate.
"Business," he said. "I'll study corporate management and finance."
Kael's expression shifted slightly approval, subtle but present.
Cedric continued, calm and certain. "I want to understand the empire properly before I take any role in it."
Valeria nodded once. "Good."
Kael's gaze moved to Kendrick.
"And you?"
Kendrick sat forward slightly, resting his arms on the table.
"Law," he said. "International and corporate law."
Frederick let out a quiet scoff. "Of course you would."
Kendrick didn't look at him. "Someone has to make sure we don't get dragged into unnecessary wars."
Kael's lips twitched faintly.
"Strategic," he said.
Then his gaze shifted to Frederick.
"And you?"
Frederick leaned back further, completely at ease.
"Engineering," he said. "Advanced systems. Weapons development."
That made Kendrick glance at him.
Cedric didn't react.
Kael raised a brow slightly. "Weapons?"
Frederick shrugged. "Defense. Power. Control. Call it whatever you want."
A small pause.
Then Kael nodded once.
"Fair."
Valeria set her glass down gently.
"And where do you all intend to study?" she asked.
Cedric spoke first. "I was considering Veritas University in London."
Kendrick followed. "St. Aurelius Institute in Geneva."
Frederick smirked slightly. "Helix Dominion in Berlin."
Silence.
Then,
Valeria's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
"And you intend to scatter yourselves across the world?" she asked.
Her tone was calm.
But sharp underneath.
Cedric straightened slightly. "It would be beneficial"
"No."
The word cut cleanly through the air.
All three boys went still.
Valeria's gaze moved between them, controlled, precise.
"You will attend university here. In Westbridge."
Frederick frowned slightly. "Mother—"
"I said no."
Her voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
Kael spoke then, his tone firm but not harsh. "Your mother is right."
Frederick's jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't argue further.
Cedric nodded once. "Understood."
Kendrick leaned back again, thoughtful.
"The University of Westbridge is still acceptable," he said calmly.
Valeria gave a small nod.
The matter was settled.
Just like that.
Dinner resumed.
For a moment, it felt normal again.
Then Cedric spoke.
"…Have you heard anything from Draco?"
The question hung in the air.
Small.
But heavy.
Kael's gaze shifted immediately.
Frederick's posture straightened slightly.
Kendrick looked toward Valeria.
She didn't react at first.
She simply continued cutting her food.
Cedric continued, quieter now. "It's been months."
Frederick exhaled lightly. "He's probably still the same."
Kendrick shook his head slightly. "Or not."
Kael finally spoke. "The academy is strict. Communication is limited."
Cedric nodded slowly.
"…I still miss him," he said.
A brief silence followed.
Frederick looked away. "He was annoying."
But there was no weight behind it.
Kendrick smirked faintly. "You're just saying that because he beat you once."
Frederick scoffed. "That was different."
Cedric allowed a small smile.
Kael watched them.
Quietly.
Then he spoke.
"Has the academy sent any letters?"
The question was casual.
Natural.
But it landed sharply.
Valeria's hand paused for just a fraction of a second.
Barely noticeable.
Then she resumed.
"No," she said smoothly.
Kael frowned slightly. "None at all?"
Valeria lifted her glass, unbothered. "If they had, I would have mentioned it."
Kendrick's eyes flickered toward her briefly.
Just a second.
Then away.
Kael leaned back slightly, exhaling.
"Perhaps it's not time yet," he said.
Valeria nodded. "Perhaps."
She took a sip.
Calm.
Composed.
Untouched.
Then she set the glass down gently and shifted the conversation.
"Kendrick," she said, "tell me more about this law program."
And just like that—
The topic changed.
The conversation moved.
The dinner continued.
Morning came differently at Zareth.
Not quiet.
Not calm.
Alive.
The academy grounds buzzed with movement, voices overlapping, footsteps echoing across stone pathways. Students moved in clusters, some rushing, some pretending not to, all carrying the same restless energy beneath their composure.
Excitement.
Anticipation.
The tall iron gates at the far end of the courtyard stood open.
Beyond them, the outside world waited.
Inside, families began to arrive.
Draco stood slightly apart from the crowd.
Not hidden.
Just… not part of it.
His black and white hair caught the early light, the strands shifting faintly as a cool breeze passed through the courtyard. His golden eyes moved slowly, observant, taking everything in without reacting to it.
Students ran past him.
Laughter.
Shouts.
Names being called.
A girl broke into a run, throwing herself into her mother's arms. A boy clasped his father's shoulder, grinning widely. Others gathered in small circles, voices overlapping, hands moving, stories spilling out all at once.
Draco watched.
Still.
Quiet.
"Draco!"
Lucius' voice cut through the noise.
Draco turned slightly.
Lucius was waving from a short distance away, already moving toward him, his face lit up in a way Draco had never seen before.
"They're here," Lucius said, almost out of breath as he reached him.
Draco followed his gaze.
A man and a woman stood near the entrance.
Waiting.
The man was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a deep brown coat over a simple black shirt. His hair was dark, neatly kept, and his expression carried a quiet strength softened by the warmth in his eyes.
Beside him stood a woman with soft features and a gentle posture. Her long auburn hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and she wore a light cream dress with a fitted coat. Her smile was already forming , patient, knowing.
Lucius didn't wait.
He ran.
Draco watched as Lucius closed the distance, his steps quick, unrestrained. The woman opened her arms just in time before he reached her, pulling him into a tight embrace.
"I missed you," Lucius said, his voice muffled.
"We missed you more," she replied, her hand resting against his head.
The man stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Lucius' shoulder, pulling him into a brief, strong hug before stepping back to look at him properly.
"You've grown," he said.
Lucius grinned. "Of course I have."
They laughed.
Easy.
Natural.
Like nothing had changed.
Draco remained where he was.
Watching.
Lucius turned suddenly, remembering.
"Oh— wait," he said quickly, glancing back toward Draco.
He motioned him over.
"Come," he called.
Draco hesitated for a second.
Then walked toward them.
Measured steps.
Controlled.
Lucius beamed as Draco approached. "This is Draco," he said. "My roommate."
The woman's smile softened further as she looked at him.
"Hello, Draco," she said gently.
Draco gave a small nod.
The man studied him briefly, not unkindly.
"You don't talk much, do you?" he asked.
Lucius quickly stepped in. "He can't. Not like us. He speaks… differently."
A small pause.
Then the woman nodded, understanding.
"That's alright," she said warmly. "You're welcome with us."
She held out a small box.
"Would you like something? We brought more than enough."
Draco looked at it for a moment.
Then nodded once.
He took it carefully.
"Thank you," Lucius added quickly on his behalf.
The man gave a faint smile. "Any friend of his is welcome."
Draco's gaze lingered on them for a brief second longer.
Then he stepped back slightly.
Not out of discomfort.
Just… distance.
Time passed.
Slowly.
Then faster.
Then slowly again.
The courtyard filled and shifted.
Groups formed.
Voices rose and fell.
Some students sat with their families under shaded trees, others walked the grounds, pointing things out, laughing, catching up on lost time.
Draco moved through it all like a shadow.
Present.
Unseen.
He found a place to sit near the edge of the courtyard.
A stone bench beneath a tall tree.
From there,
He could see the gate.
Clearly.
He sat.
Hands resting lightly on his knees.
Back straight.
Eyes forward.
More families arrived.
More reunions.
More voices.
Draco watched.
Each time the gate opened.
His eyes shifted.
Briefly.
Then back.
Maybe they're late.
The thought came quietly.
Reasonable.
Possible.
A child ran past him, laughing loudly as his father chased after him.
Draco's gaze followed them for a second.
Then returned to the gate.
Time moved.
Slow.
Dragging.
Lucius passed by once or twice, pulled along by conversation, by laughter, by warmth that kept reaching for him.
Each time, he waved.
Each time, Draco nodded.
The gate opened again.
Draco looked up.
A new group entered.
Not them.
His gaze lowered slightly.
Then lifted again.
Maybe they're delayed.
A girl sat beside her mother nearby, resting her head against her shoulder.
A boy argued playfully with his older brother.
A family of three shared food, passing it between them like it had always been that easy.
Draco's fingers curled slightly against his knees.
Unnoticed.
Father would come.
That thought stayed.
Steady.
Certain.
Then—
Mother…
A pause.
Stillness.
His eyes shifted again toward the gate.
Waiting.
Nothing.
The noise around him didn't stop.
But it felt… distant now.
Like it belonged somewhere else.
Time passed.
Enough that the sun had shifted.
Enough that shadows had moved.
Enough that some families were already beginning to leave.
Draco didn't move.
Lucius eventually returned, slower this time.
Less energy.
More awareness.
He approached carefully, like stepping into something quiet.
"…Hey," he said softly.
Draco didn't look at him immediately.
Then he did.
Lucius sat beside him.
Not too close.
Not too far.
"They probably got delayed," he said after a moment. "Travel, or… something."
Draco didn't respond.
His gaze returned to the gate.
Lucius tried again.
"Sometimes letters don't arrive properly," he added. "It happens. Not often, but it does."
A pause.
"Maybe they didn't get it."
Silence.
Draco's eyes lowered slightly.
Then,
lifted again.
The gate stood open.
Empty.
Lucius rubbed the back of his neck lightly.
"There's another visitation coming," he said. "Sooner than you think."
He glanced at Draco.
"You'll see them then."
Draco didn't speak.
Didn't move.
But inside,
A thought settled.
Quiet.
Clear.
Unshaken.
Three times.
His gaze stayed on the gate.
But he wasn't waiting anymore.
The morning air at Zareth was cool and sharp.
Students gathered across the training grounds, boots scraping lightly against the dark stone floor. Some stretched. Some talked. Others leaned against the railing, watching the early matches with quiet interest.
By the time Draco stepped in, the place was already alive.
He walked in without a word.
Still, eyes followed him.
"That's him."
"The mute one?"
"He doesn't look like much."
Draco ignored it.
Lucius came up beside him. "They've started already."
Draco nodded slightly.
Then his eyes shifted.
The Reapers.
Darius stood in the middle, arms folded, watching the field. His dark hair caught a faint red sheen under the light. His gaze landed on Draco and stayed there.
The other two stood beside him, quiet, observant.
Waiting.
"Positions," a voice called.
Instructor Marius stepped forward.
Tall. Solid. His presence alone was enough to quiet the field. His coat shifted slightly as he moved, boots firm against the stone.
"Today, you fight," he said.
No extra words.
"You stop when I say stop."
A pause.
"If you don't… I will."
Pairs were called.
One after another.
A boy rushed in too fast.
Caught a fist straight to the jaw.
His head snapped to the side and he hit the ground hard, palm scraping against stone.
"Next."
Another pair.
Slower.
More careful.
One swung wide
Missed.
Got driven back with a hit to the ribs that forced the air out of him.
Draco watched everything.
Then,
"Darius."
A pause.
"…Draco."
Lucius exhaled quietly. "This won't be easy."
Darius stepped forward, rolling his shoulders once.
Draco stepped in too.
They stopped a few feet apart.
Darius smirked slightly. "Let's see what you've got."
"Begin."
Darius moved first.
Fast.
His fist came straight toward Draco's face, Draco raised his arm just in time
The impact still snapped his head slightly to the side.
Not clean.
But it landed.
Darius followed immediately.
A low kick,
Sharp.
It caught Draco in the side of his thigh.
A dull thud.
Draco stepped back.
Another hit.
This time to the ribs.
Draco blocked late.
The force drove into his side anyway.
His breath hitched slightly.
Murmurs started around them.
"He's getting overwhelmed."
Darius didn't stop.
He stepped in again.
A punch aimed at Draco's chest, Draco blocked, but the impact pushed him back another step.
Boot sliding slightly on stone.
Darius smirked.
"This is it?"
Draco said nothing.
But his stance changed.
Darius came again.Same speed.Same angle.
This time,
Draco shifted to the side.
The punch missed his face by inches.
Draco countered.
His fist drove straight into Darius' ribs. A solid hit.
You could hear it.
Darius stepped back slightly.
Not hurt.
But surprised.
The crowd reacted.
"…Wait—"
Draco moved forward now.
Focused.
Darius swung again, Draco caught his wrist mid-motion. Twisted,
Then drove his elbow into Darius' side.
A sharp exhale left Darius.
He pulled back quickly, Came in again
This time aiming higher. A strike toward Draco's jaw.
Draco ducked.
Then drove his shoulder forward. Straight into Darius' chest.
The impact forced Darius back two steps.
Now the balance had shifted.
Draco didn't rush.
He watched.
Waited.
Darius attacked again.
Faster now. More aggressive. Draco blocked the first hit.
Deflected the second.
Then drove a punch straight into Darius' stomach.
Darius bent slightly, Just enough
Draco took it.
He grabbed Darius by the arm,
Shifted his weight
And slammed him hard onto the ground.
The sound echoed.
Darius hit the stone flat on his back.
A short, rough breath left him.
Silence.
Then,
Noise.
"No way—"
"He actually dropped him"
Darius stayed down for a second.
Then rolled slightly, pushing himself up with one arm.
A faint bruise was already forming along his jaw.
Draco stepped back.
Breathing steady.
One sleeve slightly creased where he had blocked earlier.
A faint redness along his ribs where he'd taken the hit.
Marius watched closely.
Eyes narrowed just a little.
"Enough."
The fight ended.
Across the field, The other two Reapers weren't smiling anymore.
Castillo tilted his head slightly, studying Draco like he'd just become a problem.
The other cracked his knuckles once.
Slow.
Something had changed.
The training ground didn't go back to normal.
Not immediately.
Students were still talking as they drifted out in groups, voices lower now, but sharper.
"…you saw that, right?"
"He dropped Darius."
"No, Darius slipped."
"He didn't slip. That was clean."
"I'm telling you, it was luck."
"Luck doesn't land hits like that."
Draco walked past them.
Same pace.
Same quiet steps.
But this time,
People moved slightly out of his way.
Not obvious.
Just enough.
A boy nudged his friend as Draco passed. "That's him."
The friend looked longer than necessary.
"…he doesn't even look strong."
Draco didn't react.
Lucius caught up with him near the exit.
"That was insane," he said, still half in disbelief. "You didn't just survive that, you actually won."
Draco kept walking.
Lucius glanced at him. "You could've warned me you fight like that."
No response.
Lucius let out a small breath, then smiled a little. "Yeah… that's you."
They stepped out of the training grounds.
Behind them, the noise didn't die.
It changed.
Clusters formed.
Students leaned in closer when they spoke now.
"He adapted."
"I saw it too."
"Darius was winning at first."
"Then what happened?"
"I don't know… he just changed."
Near the far edge of the field, the Reapers hadn't moved.
Darius stood with his back half-turned, jaw tight, one hand pressed briefly against his side where Draco had hit him earlier.
A faint bruise had already begun to show along his cheek.
The smirk he usually carried was gone.
Castillo spoke first.
"You let that happen."
Darius didn't answer immediately.
His fingers flexed once.
"I didn't 'let' anything," he said finally, voice low.
Gael gave a short laugh. "Looked like it."
Darius turned his head slightly, eyes sharp. "Say that again."
The smirk faded just a little.
"Relax," Gael said, raising his hands halfway. "I'm just saying… people saw it."
That landed.
Darius looked out across the emptying field.
Students were still talking.
Still glancing over.
Not at him.
At Draco.
His jaw tightened.
"He's a problem," Castillo said.
This time, Darius didn't argue.
A moment passed.
Then.
"Not here," Darius said.
They moved.
Not together at first.
But in the same direction.
Behind the training halls, the noise of the academy faded.
Stone paths narrowed.
The walls cast longer shadows here, cutting off most of the light.
It was quieter.
Private.
The three of them stopped near the corner of an empty corridor.
Darius leaned back slightly against the wall, arms folding again.
"People are already talking, Gael said. "You know how this goes."
Darius nodded once.
"I know."
Castillo tilted his head slightly. "So what's the plan?"
Darius didn't answer immediately.
His eyes dropped for a second, thinking.
Then lifted again.
Cold.
Focused.
"We fix it."
Silence.
Then a small grin returned to their faces.
"There it is." Gael said.
"Not in the arena," Darius continued. "Not in front of everyone."
He pushed off the wall slowly.
"We catch him alone."
Castillo nodded. "That shouldn't be hard. He's always by himself."
"Good," Darius said.
His voice was calm now.
Too calm.
"No interruptions," he added. "No instructor. No audience."
A pause.
Then,
"He doesn't get back up this time."
The words settled.
Heavy.
Final.
Gael let out a quiet breath. "Yeah… that'll fix it."
Darius looked back toward the direction of the main grounds.
Where Draco had walked out earlier.
"Tonight," he said.
The other two nodded.
Elsewhere,
The academy had already begun to settle into evening.
The noise softened.
Students returned to their routines.
Dinner.
Rest.
Low conversations in dorms.
Draco walked alone.
The stone path stretched ahead of him, leading away from the main buildings. The air felt cooler now, quieter.
His steps were steady.
Unhurried.
He didn't notice it at first.
The way the sounds behind him faded a little too quickly.
Or how the path ahead seemed… emptier than usual.
A faint movement.
Somewhere behind him.
Draco stopped.
Silence.
Then slowly,
He turned.
No one there.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then.
From the edge of the shadows,
A figure shifted.
Draco kept walking.
The stone beneath his boots echoed softly with each step. The buildings behind him were already fading into distance, their noise swallowed by the stillness of this side of the grounds.
He didn't rush.
Didn't turn.
But something felt off.
A step behind him.
Draco stopped.
Silence.
Then—
A fist came out of nowhere.
It slammed into the side of his face.
His head snapped to the right, vision flashing white for a split second as his body staggered sideways. His foot slipped slightly against the stone before he caught himself.
Too late.
A second hit drove into his stomach.
Hard.
The air left his lungs instantly.
Draco doubled forward.
And a hand grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging him up just enough.
Another punch.
Straight to his jaw.
This time, he hit the ground.
The taste of iron filled his mouth.
"Not so tough now, are you?" a voice said.
Draco tried to push himself up.
A boot came down on his shoulder.
Forced him back down.
Castillo stepped forward.
Tall. Controlled. His presence alone carried weight. His dark hair was pulled back loosely, a few strands falling forward as he looked down at Draco like he was something beneath him.
"You really thought that was enough?" he said.
Darius stood a step behind him.
Watching.
Quiet.
Arms loose at his sides.
Gael circled slightly, cracking his knuckles.
"Should've stayed quiet," he muttered.
Draco tried to move, A kick slammed into his ribs.
Pain shot through his side, sharp and deep. His body curled slightly on instinct, breath catching again as the impact sank in.
Another kick.
Same spot.
This time, he couldn't hold it in.
A rough breath forced its way out.
"Get up," Castillo said.
Draco pushed against the ground.
Slow.
Unsteady.
He got to one knee.
A fist slammed into his face again.
He dropped back down.
Blood now.
From the corner of his mouth.
Darius stepped forward slightly.
Not rushing.
Measured.
He crouched just enough to look at Draco properly.
"You learn fast," he said quietly.
A pause.
"Just not fast enough."
His hand shot out,Gripped Draco's collar
Pulled him forward.
Then drove his fist straight into Draco's stomach.
Hard.
Draco's body folded.
No air.
No sound.
Darius let him drop.
Gael stepped in again
A kick to Draco's side
Then another
Less controlled.
More frustration.
"Thought you were something now, huh?"
Draco tried to push himself back.
His arm shook. Barely holding his weight
Castillo watched.
Then stepped forward.
He didn't rush.
Didn't swing wildly.
He grabbed Draco by the front of his shirt, lifted him halfway off the ground
And drove his fist straight into Draco's face.
The impact snapped Draco's head back.
For a second,
Everything went still.
Then
He dropped again.
Breathing rough.
Vision unfocused.
Blood now visible along his lower lip.
"…Pathetic," Castillo muttered.
Draco's fingers pressed weakly against the ground.
Trying.
Still trying.
"Enough."
The voice came from a distance.
Sharp.
Clear.
All three of them froze slightly.
"WHAT do you think you're doing?"
Footsteps.
Fast.
Closing in.
Castillo clicked his tongue. "Move."
They turned
Ready to disappear
"Stop."
The word didn't echo.
It landed.
And they froze.
Not by choice.
Their bodies locked in place.
Mid-step.
Mid-turn.
They couldn't move.
The instructor stepped into view.
Tall.
Slim but firm in posture.
Her long coat moved sharply with her steps, dark fabric brushing against her legs. Her blonde hair was pulled back tightly, not a strand out of place. Her face was lined, not with age alone, but with strictness carved in over time.
Her blue eyes,
Cold.
Focused.
Unforgiving.
She looked at them first.
Then,
At Draco.
There was a brief pause.
A look.
Not soft.
Not kind.
Just
Disappointed.
"…Of course it's you," she muttered under her breath.
Then her gaze snapped back to the three boys.
"Three of you," she said, voice low but cutting, "against one."
A step closer.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves."
They couldn't respond.
Couldn't even turn fully.
Still locked in place.
"Fighting outside training hours is prohibited," she continued. "But this—"
Her eyes narrowed.
"This is not a fight."
Silence.
"This is bullying."
Her gaze moved across them slowly.
"You don't attack someone when they're alone. You don't gang up like this."
A pause.
"And you certainly don't pick someone you think is weaker."
Her voice sharpened.
"Pathetic."
She lifted her hand slightly.
The hold released.
"Go," she said.
Her tone left no room for argument.
"Disciplinary office. Now."
None of them spoke.
Didn't argue.
Didn't hesitate.
They left.
Quick.
Silent.
The moment they disappeared.
The space felt empty again.
The instructor turned.
Draco was already pushing himself up.
Slow.
Unsteady.
Blood at his mouth.
Dirt along his sleeve.
His breathing uneven.
She watched him for a second.
Then spoke.
"You're a Demonhart."
Draco stilled slightly.
Her eyes narrowed.
"I expected more."
A pause.
"You let them do that to you?"
No sympathy.
No softness.
Just expectation.
She stepped closer.
Not too close.
Just enough.
"Strength isn't just what you show when people are watching," she said.
"Remember that."
Draco said nothing.
She turned slightly.
"Go to the infirmary," she added. "Clean yourself up."
A short pause.
"Then back to your dorm."
And just like that.
She walked away.
Draco stood there for a moment.
Then slowly
He straightened.
Wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
And started walking.
The infirmary was quiet.
Too quiet.
Soft light filled the room, pale and steady. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something herbal. Beds were arranged in neat rows, most of them empty at this hour.
Draco sat on one of them.
Still.
A woman stood in front of him, sleeves rolled just enough to keep them clear as she worked.
She didn't ask questions.
Didn't need to.
"Hold still," she said.
Draco didn't move.
A cloth pressed against the corner of his lip.
It stung.
The dried blood softened, then wiped away slowly, revealing the cut beneath.
"Split skin," she murmured. "Not deep."
Her fingers moved to his jaw, turning his face slightly to the side. A faint bruise had already begun to form there.
Then lower.
His ribs.
She pressed lightly.
Pain shot through him.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Draco didn't react.
"Bruised," she said. "You'll feel it when you breathe."
She stepped back briefly, then returned with a small vial. A cool liquid was applied along his lip and the side of his face. The sting faded, replaced by a dull numbness.
"You'll be fine," she added simply.
No sympathy.
No concern.
Just fact.
Draco slid off the bed when she was done.
Gave a small nod.
Then walked out.
The halls were quieter now.
Most students had already returned to their dorms. The torches along the walls flickered softly, casting long shadows across the stone floors.
His footsteps echoed.
Alone.
By the time he reached the dorm, the night had settled fully.
He pushed the door open.
Lucius was inside.
Sitting on his bed.
Waiting.
The moment he saw Draco,
He stood up.
Fast.
"What happened to you?"
Draco didn't answer.
He stepped in, closing the door behind him.
Lucius moved closer, eyes scanning him quickly.
"Were you involved in a fight?"he asked. "Was it the Reapers?"
No response.
Lucius ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I knew it… I knew they wouldn't just let it go."
He paced once, then turned back.
"You should report this. This isn't—this isn't okay."
Draco moved past him.
Calm.
Quiet.
"No."
The word came through his mind.
Clear.
Lucius stopped.
"…No?" he repeated.
Draco didn't look at him.
Lucius stared for a moment, then exhaled slowly. "You're just going to let it go?"
Silence.
That answer was enough.
Lucius shook his head slightly. "You're… I don't understand you sometimes."
A pause.
Then quieter.
"But you don't have to deal with everything alone."
Draco sat on his bed.
Lucius watched him for a few seconds longer.
Then sighed.
"…Fine," he muttered. "But if they try anything again—"
He didn't finish it.
Instead, he stepped back.
Gave Draco space.
The room fell quiet.
Only the faint sound of wind outside brushing against the window.
Draco leaned back slightly against the wall.
His eyes dropped.
Not focused on anything.
The day replayed.
Not all at once.
In pieces.
The gate.
Opening.
Closing.
People arriving.
Not them.
Maybe they're late.
The thought came back.
Then faded.
Lucius' voice,
"There's another visitation…"
Then.
The fight.
The first hit.
The second.
The way his body gave in before he adjusted.
Then the ambush.
Hands.
Hits.
The ground.
"Pathetic."
And then,
Her voice.
"You're a Demonhart."
His fingers curled slightly.
"I expected more."
Silence filled the space again.
Three times.
The thought settled.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Three times.
The letters were sent.
Three times.
They didn't come.
His father.
His mother.
Nothing.
Draco's gaze lifted slightly.
Not to anything specific.
Just… forward.
Something in his chest shifted.
Not loud.
Not sudden.
Just
Settling.
The waiting stopped.
The wondering too.
His expression didn't change.
But the feeling did.
Quieter.
Colder.
He wasn't thinking about the next visitation anymore.
He wasn't thinking about whether they would come.
He wasn't thinking about what they felt.
Only one thing remained clear,
He would not be weak again.
Not in front of them.
Not in front of anyone.
Not like that.
Draco leaned his head back against the wall.
Eyes half-lidded.
Still.
But something had changed.
Morning settled gently over the Demonhart mansion.
Cedric stepped out of his room, one hand dragging lightly through his midnight blue hair, still damp from his bath. The strands fell messily back into place, giving him a relaxed, effortless look.
He wore a white V-neck shirt, slightly loose around the collar, and navy sweatpants that hung comfortably on his frame. Soft slippers brushed quietly against the polished floor as he walked.
There was a smile on his face.
Not a big one.
Just enough.
"Potato head," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
Frederick's voice echoed in his mind from last night.
"You looked ridiculous in that yearbook."
Cedric scoffed.
"I've always been good-looking," he said to himself, already heading toward the upper corridor.
The attic door creaked as he pushed it open.
A thin layer of dust coated everything. Old trunks, stacked boxes, forgotten frames. The kind of place no one came to unless they had a reason.
Cedric stepped inside, glancing around.
"Where would they even keep something like that…"
He moved toward a wooden shelf, scanning quickly. Old files. Albums. A few leather-bound books. He pulled one out.
Not it.
Another.
Still not it.
He crouched slightly, reaching into a lower compartment. His fingers brushed against something loose,a stack of old folders shoved carelessly into the corner.
He tugged one free.
The rest shifted.
Something slipped out from behind them.
A soft thud.
Cedric glanced down.
An envelope.
He frowned slightly.
It hadn't been placed there properly. More like… pushed back. Hidden behind things no one would normally move.
He picked it up.
Zareth Academy.
His expression changed.
Slowly, he turned it over.
Still sealed.
"…Why is this here?"
He opened it.
His eyes scanned the page.
Then stopped.
Draco.
Cedric straightened slightly.
He reached back into the compartment, pulling the folders aside completely this time.
More envelopes.
Tucked deeper.
Not one.
Not two.
Several.
His hands moved faster now.
Opening one.
Then another.
Dates.
Instructions.
Visitation notices.
His breathing slowed.
"…No…"
Three different dates.
All addressed.
All sent.
None touched.
Cedric stared at them, something cold settling in his chest.
"They came…" he murmured.
A pause.
"…so why didn't he—"
He stopped.
His jaw tightened.
He didn't finish the thought.
He already knew.
Cedric turned and walked out.
Not rushing.
But not slow either.
Straight to his father's office.
He knocked.
"Father, I need to speak with you."
Inside,
"Not now, Cedric."
"I need to—"
"Later."
Cedric didn't wait this time.
He opened the door.
Kael stood near his desk, adjusting his sleeve.
He looked sharp.
Composed.
His deep forest-green suit fit him perfectly, rich and refined, the color catching the light just enough to stand out without shouting. The fabric hugged his shoulders cleanly, paired with a crisp white shirt and a dark tie that sat neatly against his chest.
His red and black hair was styled back, clean and deliberate, his steel grey eyes lifting now, irritated.
"Cedric, I said—"
The words stopped.
Because Cedric dropped the letters on the desk.
Silence.
Kael stared at them.
Then slowly reached forward.
He opened one.
Read.
Then another.
Then the third.
The air changed.
His jaw tightened.
Not slightly.
Tightly.
He looked up.
"Where did you find these?"
His voice was low.
Too calm.
"In the attic," Cedric said. "They were hidden."
A pause.
"You think she did it, right?"
Kael didn't answer.
He gathered the letters.
"Go to your room."
Cedric hesitated.
"Do not speak about this," Kael added.
A beat.
"Not to anyone. Not even your mother."
Cedric nodded slowly.
Then left.
The door closed.
Kael stood there for a moment.
Then moved.
Valeria stood before her mirror.
Her silver and black hair fell neatly down her back, smooth and controlled. She adjusted a bracelet on her wrist, her violet eyes focused on her reflection.
She wore a fitted cream blouse with a structured dark skirt, elegant, precise. Everything about her looked intentional.
She saw him in the mirror.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"You're ready?" she said.
No response.
She turned.
And paused.
Something was wrong.
Kael didn't look at her the way he usually did.
"What is it?" she asked.
He stepped forward.
"Did anything come from Zareth?"
She blinked once.
"What?"
"Letters," he said. "Notices. Anything."
She held his gaze.
"No."
Too quick.
Too smooth.
Kael watched her for a second longer.
Then he pulled the letters out.
And dropped them onto the table beside her.
The sound was sharp.
Valeria's eyes flickered down.
Recognition.
Gone just as quickly.
Silence stretched.
"Explain."
His voice was low.
Valeria exhaled lightly.
"You were in the Hollow when they came," she said. "Things were unstable. I forgot."
Kael let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Forgot?"
She shrugged.
"It wasn't important."
Kael stepped closer.
"Months passed."
No response.
"Weeks passed."
Valeria's eyes hardened slightly.
"So?" she said.
That did it.
Kael's control snapped.
"So?" he repeated, stepping closer, his voice rising. "That's your answer?"
"He is not a priority," she shot back.
Kael cut her off.
"He is my son."
"And a weak one," she replied instantly.
Silence hit hard.
Kael stared at her.
"You left him there," he said, voice shaking now, anger pushing through. "Alone. Do you understand that? Alone."
"He belongs there," she said coldly. "Among his kind."
"He is fourteen!" Kael snapped. "It was his first visitation!"
"And?" she said, unfazed. "You would abandon everything again just to stand at a gate and watch him struggle to speak?"
Kael stepped forward.
Too close now.
"You had no right."
"I had every right," she shot back, her voice rising now. "I protected this family while you were gone chasing a lost cause!"
"You denied me my son!" Kael's voice broke through, loud now.
Valeria didn't flinch.
"He is not worth the damage you caused," she said.
That line landed.
Hard.
Kael's hand clenched.
For a second,
It lifted.
Stopped.
His jaw tightened, breath uneven now.
He dropped his hand.
Turned away.
Picked up the letters.
"I won't forget this," he said quietly.
And walked out.
Valeria didn't stop him.
The hallway stretched ahead.
His steps were faster now.
Her words echoed.
Not worth it.
Draco.
Standing there.
Waiting.
Kael's grip tightened on the letters.
He walked down the stairs.
Through the hall.
Into the garage.
The car door slammed.
The engine roared to life.
He drove.
Fast.
But his mind wasn't on the road.
It was somewhere else.
A gate.
A boy.
Waiting.
He wasn't thinking about work.
He wasn't thinking about the empire.
Only one thing stayed in his mind.
He had been absent.