The incident with Iris had consequences.
The next day, Duke Aldric summoned Lyria to his study. It was the first time he had seen her since that night four years ago, and his expression hadn't changed: a mix of disgust and cold pragmatism.
"You told me you would control him." His voice was sharp as ice.
"My lord, it was an accident. The young master had never before—"
"I don't care about excuses." The Duke slammed his fist on the desk. "My daughter, my legitimate heir, was unconscious for hours. The healers say she might have nightmares for months."
Lyria pressed her lips together but didn't lower her gaze.
"What do you want me to do, my lord?"
"I want that... child... never to leave the tower again. I will place guards at the entrance. If he tries to escape again, I will take harsher measures."
The threat was clear. Lyria nodded.
"Understood, my lord."
But when she returned to the tower, she didn't find the frightened Vaelor she had left the night before. Instead, the boy was sitting by the window, listening to the sounds outside with unnatural calm.
"Young master..." Lyria began.
"I need to be stronger." Vaelor interrupted. "If I'm strong, no one can threaten me. Neither me, nor you."
Lyria remained silent. Such understanding was unusual for a four-year-old. But she had long stopped being surprised by Vaelor.
"How do you plan to become stronger, young master?"
The boy turned toward her, and though his eyes were covered, Lyria could swear he was looking directly at her.
"Beast Tamer." He said. "I want to be a beast tamer."
◇ ◇ ◇
The profession of beast tamer was one of the most respected in the empire.
Unlike mages, who manipulated mana directly to cast spells, tamers formed contracts with magical beasts. These creatures became their combat companions, their eyes and ears, their living weapons. A powerful tamer could control entire armies of beasts, deciding the fate of battles and nations.
But there was a fundamental problem.
Tamers needed to establish eye contact with their beasts to form the first bond. It was a basic, immutable requirement. And Vaelor, with his curse, couldn't look anyone in the eyes without causing absolute terror.
"It's impossible." Lyria had told him when he expressed his desire. "The beasts would flee from you before you could get close."
But Vaelor had smiled then, a small, mysterious smile.
"No." He said simply. "Beasts are different."
And he was right.
◇ ◇ ◇
The discovery happened three months after the incident.
A small bird, with gray feathers and bright eyes, had slipped through the tower window. It was probably seeking refuge from the winter cold. Lyria tried to shoo it away, but the animal seemed determined to stay.
"Leave it." Vaelor requested.
"But young master, it could dirty the room or—"
"I want... to try something."
Lyria watched with concern as the boy slowly approached the bird. Each step was measured, calculated. When he was close enough, he extended his hand.
And then he did something the servant hadn't expected.
He removed the blindfold.
"Young master!"
But Lyria was frozen by what she saw next.
The bird didn't flee. It showed no signs of terror. Instead, it tilted its head with curiosity and hopped onto Vaelor's outstretched hand. Its small, bright eyes met the boy's red eyes with no visible effect.
"I knew it." Vaelor whispered, and his voice held something Lyria hadn't heard before: hope. "Beasts don't fear me."
◇ ◇ ◇
The following weeks were full of experimentation.
Vaelor convinced Lyria to bring small creatures to the tower. Mice, birds, even a lizard he found in the gardens. Without exception, all the beasts reacted the same way: complete immunity to his curse.
"It's because they're animals, young master." Lyria reasoned one night, watching Vaelor stroke the gray bird that had decided to stay. "The curse affects the civilized mind. Beasts operate on instinct."
"That means I can be a tamer."
"Technically yes, but you'd need training. And master tamers won't accept to teach you if—"
"Then I'll learn alone."
The determination in his voice was absolute. Lyria sighed, realizing she couldn't dissuade him.
"Fine. I'll see what books I can get on the subject."
In the following months, Lyria dedicated herself to gathering information. She stole books from the castle library at night, memorized conversations of servants who had served tamers, and even managed to buy some old scrolls from a traveling merchant using her meager savings.
Vaelor absorbed everything like a sponge.
By age five, he could recite from memory the three types of beast contracts: Soul, Dominion, and Summoning. He knew the power ranks, from basic F to legendary SSR. He understood theories of beast evolution and the factors influencing it.
But theory wasn't enough.
◇ ◇ ◇
"I want to form a contract." Vaelor announced one morning.
Lyria almost dropped the plate she was holding.
"A contract? Young master, that's very dangerous. If something goes wrong—"
"The bird." He pointed to the small gray bird resting on the windowsill. "I want to make a Dominion Contract with it."
The Dominion Contract was the safest of the three types. It didn't create a life-or-death bond like the Soul Contract, nor require constant payments like Summoning. It was simply an obedience agreement between tamer and beast.
"It's rank F." Vaelor continued. "The lowest possible. If I fail, the worst outcome is the bird flying away."
Lyria thought for a long moment. The boy had studied tirelessly for almost a year. He knew the theory better than many academy apprentices. And that bird... had developed a genuine bond with him.
"Alright." She finally agreed. "But I will be present at all times. Immediate intervention if anything goes wrong."
Vaelor nodded.
That night, under the starlight filtering through the window, the five-year-old cursed boy performed his first contract ritual.
The words flowed from his mouth naturally, as if he had always known them. He extended his mana toward the bird, an invisible thread of energy temporarily connecting their souls. The bird didn't resist. On the contrary, it accepted the bond with what seemed like enthusiasm.
And when the process ended, Vaelor felt a new presence in the depths of his mind. It was small and simple, barely a whisper of consciousness. But it was his.
"It worked." He whispered, and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile crossed his face. "Lyria, it worked."
The servant couldn't help but cry with joy as she hugged the little boy.
"You did it, young master. You did it."
In the darkness of the night, a cursed boy took his first step toward a future no one believed possible.