Upon exiting the hall, I found no one willing to escort me. Around me were only indifferent guards and the bustle of servants, but no one was there for me. I had become invisible.
"Excuse me," I asked a guard stationed beside the great doors. He had no intention of even looking at me. "Excuse me, by chance have you seen Hilda, my nanny?" I took for granted that he knew her, or that perhaps she had come to collect me.
But the guard was called away to clean the room along with the maids. For a brief moment before leaving, he turned toward me. "I am sorry, Young Mas—... I can do nothing for you."
What could I do alone? "Hah!" I scoffed.
I tried to remember the path I had taken earlier, making my way back by myself. It had gotten late, but the reception at my arrival was no different: Hilda, my nanny, merely told me to go directly to my room and wait for dinner. All the maids avoided me. Usually, they would only lower their gazes out of respect, but now it was different. Without an explanation. Without a word of comfort. Only the silence of the corridors to keep me company.
I entered my room, leaving the door open. I saw a maid hurry past in the hallway. I had known her for a year, though I didn't know her name. I felt I might find some answers there. I tried to run out to catch her, darting out of the room and turning sharply to the right.
"..." A lump had formed in my throat. A tightness in my stomach stopped me dead. The words wouldn't come out. I watched her walk away, my hand outstretched, trying in some way to call her back as the background blurred through the tears welling in my eyes. Why? What did I do wrong?
I returned to the room, this time closing the door. I didn't even wait for dinner. I threw myself onto the bed trying to sleep, even as the tears refused to stop. Just before drifting off, that voice I heard earlier came to mind. It seemed sad, but at the same time, very strange.
The next morning I woke early, staring at the ceiling of my room. For an instant, the torpor of sleep granted me a merciful lie: it was just a nightmare. I remained motionless under the feather duvet, waiting. I waited for the sound of the door opening, the clinking of the hot water pitcher, the scent of the sweet buns Hilda always brought me.
But the silence stretched on, dense and unnatural, until it became a confirmation. No one came. No "Good morning, Young Master."
Make your mother proud. That thought clawed at my chest, wearing me down. I tried to dig into my memory, but the deeper I went, the more I found nothing. Mother? Ah... right. I don't have a mother. I have no one. In that freezing room, I realized that Hilda's words had been nothing but a pitiful lie. No one here cared about me.
I felt alone. Tears began to sting, ready to slip away along with my dignity. I was ready to collapse into despair. My eyes were sore from the night before. On the small table, I saw a bowl of cold soup and some bread that had hardened overnight. I tried to force down a few bites, but I couldn't. It wasn't the cooking I knew anymore. Everything around me had changed; that "everything" was trying to close in on me.
It was then that the chill of the Lunar Hall returned. It wasn't an external shiver, but a whisper that slid directly into my thoughts, seizing control.
"So... pathetic."
Those words were not heard; they were suffered. The contempt in that voice was so pure it made my father's hatred seem like a caress. I felt naked, minuscule, like a crushed insect. The crying stopped instantly. Those words, despite being so harsh and so real, made my heart tremble. A furious heat, born from the center of my chest, rose to my cheeks. Who are you? How dare you? What do you know of what I'm going through...
My soul snarled. That insult had touched the only thing I had left: the Eisenhart pride. If the world wanted me dead, that voice was telling me I wasn't even worthy of being mourned. And that hurt more than any wound.
I stood up. Trying to understand where that voice came from. I spun around, but saw nothing. My legs trembled, but my steps were driven by something else. I headed toward the pitcher; the water was from the day before, stagnant. I stared at it, and in that murky surface, I didn't see my reflection, but an abyss ready to swallow me.
"Why are you still here?" the Voice whispered in my head. This time it wasn't a hiss; it was clearer than ever. "Look at your hands. So small, weak."
"Who are you? Why do you torment me?" I asked, terrified.
"Why fight? You are alone, Luthian. Your mother fled so she wouldn't have to look at you. Your father abandoned you. Why fight? Let go..."
My knees gave way. I was accepting that truth, so visceral and real. I was alone. I had convinced myself I was trash. I let myself slide to the floor, my forehead against the cold stone.
"I am here for you now. Nothingness is so welcoming." The entire room had turned black; I saw violet reflections flying above me.
Then, in the absolute darkness of my collapse, it happened. A white, blinding memory slashed through the darkness of my mind. I didn't see a face; I saw only Light. A tall figure, wrapped in warmth, leaned over me. I felt the touch of a small, rough hand on my cheek, a sensation so real it hurt. For a moment I opened my eyes, but everything was black.
"Stand up, Luthian." "It does not matter if the world turns its back on you. You are my sun. And the sun does not ask permission to shine. Burn, my little one. Burn everything."
Then, all at once, the blackness enveloping the room shattered, like broken glass. I felt the Dark Voice recoil into the back of my mind. It spoke no more. It seemed almost... satisfied, as if it had found a new equilibrium.
I stood frozen, breathless. When I opened my eyes, I saw a magic circle surrounding me. It shone for an instant with the purest white, then shattered into a thousand shards of light. But those shards didn't vanish immediately. They remained suspended in the air, dancing around me like petals of white fire. I could hear the crackling of these sparks. Like a song.
One of them grazed my forehead. In that moment, the cold of the room vanished. I was overwhelmed by a heat so intense it took my breath away. It was a sensation that came from the depths of my desires. "This warmth..." I murmured, feeling my chest heave. "It's so familiar."
The world around me faded. The bare stone of the room was replaced by a garden flooded with light. And there, in front of me, was she. Her figure was blurred, like a dream slipping through one's fingers, but her scent—that mix of apple blossoms and rain—was real. It wrapped around me like an embrace.
"Mother?" I reached out, trying to grasp the hem of her robe of light, but the vision began to tremble.
"This is our little secret, my Little One. For now, I can do no more."
The shards of the magic circle were fading, and she with them. The chill of the Voice pressed to return, ready to reclaim its space. "Mother! No... don't leave me!" I shouted into the silence of my mind. "Don't abandon me again! I'm scared... I'm alone!"
The tears I had tried to force back exploded, hot and bitter. The light grew dimmer, but before vanishing completely, I felt a light pressure on my cheek, like the kiss of a ghost.
"You have never been alone. An Eisenhart does not cry," her voice whispered, laughing gently at the end. "I will wait for you. Beyond the shadow, beyond the pain. I will wait for you when you are ready to truly shine. My little sun."
The light vanished completely. I was left alone in the silence of the freezing room, with the taste of that "little sun" still on my lips. Despair was gone, replaced by a promise that burned hotter than any hatred. I looked at the reflection in the pitcher. I washed my face. My own hand, reflected in the water, seemed different for an instant. Paler.
"An Eisenhart does not cry," I whispered to myself, clenching my fists. "Thank you, Mother." I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the closed door. It was the only lesson I had left, even if the name no longer belonged to me.
Minutes later, the door opened without a knock. Szilard stood on the threshold. I stared straight into those freezing irises, sustaining the pressure of his presence without blinking. I felt the furious heat in my chest; it pushed me not to retreat a single millimeter. Szilard raised an eyebrow, an almost imperceptible movement. Maybe I could imagine what to expect, maybe not, but if he had come all this way, something awaited me. For an instant, his mask of perfection wavered.
"Come. Do not waste my time."
I stood up, and as I passed him to leave the room, I could swear I saw a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe he knows what just happened? I thought. I continued to follow him down the corridor.
"Where are we going, uncle?" "Do not call me uncle in here." "As you wish... A-Archmage."
I knew he might have noticed something, but I pretended nothing was amiss. If he didn't ask, it was fine. We exited the mansion. We crossed the central corridors. Then Szilard turned left. It was like crossing the border between two worlds. The magic lanterns, which shone gold in the main palace, here became sparse and emitted a cold light. The decorations on the walls vanished. We walked for what seemed like an eternity. I saw only servants and maids. I hoped to see Hilda, but I didn't see her once. I wanted to complain. I wanted to say my feet hurt in these thin shoes. But every time I opened my mouth, that knot was always in my throat. I am your nephew. Does that truly count for nothing?
We stopped in front of a row of low quarters, built against the outer eastern perimeter wall. We were outside the mansion. The wood of the doors was dark, scarred by weather and woodworms. The wind coming down from the mountains carried the smell of snow and horse manure. It was the opposite of everything I had been up to that moment.
"From today you will stay here, outside the main seat of the Stahls," Szilard said.
I looked at the peeling door. Hysterical laughter pressed at my throat. "Why?" Szilard turned. "Because the House does not waste what can be useful." Serve. Useful. Ah, I see... "And because staying near your brothers, right now, would be worse," Szilard added. For an instant, his voice seemed almost... human. But it vanished immediately. "If you want to remain standing and rehabilitate your name, you must prove you can be someone. I cannot stop your father... do it quickly."
He turned to leave. And it was then that the message arrived. I didn't hear it with my ears. It exploded directly inside my head. I started to panic.
"Luthian, stay still. I know you have many questions, but there is no time. Close the door only after I turn the corner, and look under the desk. It will help you. She wants this."
My eyes widened. I watched Szilard walking away without looking back. It was his voice. Yet he was leaving. I didn't understand. After he turned the corner, two guards passed behind him. Wait, who is 'she'? My mother? So he knew what happened earlier?
I didn't understand. Thoughts began to flood my head, but somehow I calmed down quickly. I entered the room. The rusty hinges protested with a sharp squeak. It was a tiny space: a narrow bed with a rough wool blanket, a wobbly table, the smell of mold and old wood. I sat on the bed. A stalk of straw pricked me through my tunic.
I thought of Rowan and Darian, my brothers. Our races. The laughter. Two years of happy memories erased in an afternoon. And the fragmented memories I had regained of my mother. A tear fell; I felt a bit empty. But strangely, not too empty to be sad. Pathetic? Huh? — remembering the Voice. Feeling pathetic, however, gave me a strange sense of security. I saw the desk nearby. I bent down under the desk and found a well-hidden bag of rags. I opened it with trembling hands. Inside was a wide leather bracelet, old and worn. Along with it, some bandages and medicinal ointment with a pungent smell. I held it in my hand, disappointed. A bracelet? I thought bitterly. And bandages for what? For training? I put everything back in the bag and tossed it onto the bed.
There was an old wardrobe, half-open. I approached, driven by curiosity to see what was inside: I found only a few garments, also worn, suitable for training, and a pair of scuffed leather shoes. I changed slowly, carefully slipping off the only outfit I had on, the last link to my old life. I placed it with extreme care in a corner of the wardrobe, thinking of Hilda. She hadn't lied to me. I took back what I had thought about her; deep down, she had always been there beside me. I loved her; even if she had been too strict at times, she had always showered me with care. I threw myself into bed, closing my eyes immediately.
The next day, my new world presented the bill. It came to collect with a hammering noise. Clack-clack-clack. Right against my doorframe. I woke with a start, my heart in my throat. When I threw the door open, I found an old man with a lame leg beating a rhythmic tempo against the ground. He was planting a crooked sign with a rusty nail. He barely looked at me. "Wake up, Young Master. The sun is already high and the stench of manure doesn't clean itself," he grunted without stopping his hammering.
"Good morning, who are you? And what are you doing at my door?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "Uh... Good morning?" A laugh accompanied the question. "Forget those manners here or you'll regret it soon! I clean the stables and do the jobs no one wants to do. Including coming to drag someone like you out of bed. Anyway, you can call me Kael," he replied, striking the final blow.
On the sign was written, in lopsided calligraphy: "Recruit Quarters - Low Sector".
"A sign? Right here?" Kael spat on the ground nonchalantly, then looked me up and down. "The Captain says that from today you are property of the Outer Armory. So move your ass. If we arrive late, that asshole takes it out on my good leg." "Captain? Late for what?" "Enough chatter! I was ordered to deliver you. So put on those rags and walk. And try not to trip, because I have no intention of carrying you."
I didn't understand the situation, but something told me I had to do as he said. I dressed in a minute. As we left, Kael walked ahead of me with an irregular but rapid pace, cursing under his breath every time his leg gave him a twinge. He seemed "nice" and brought me a bit of cheer, perhaps. Even if he seemed a bit too... direct. In a good way.
He escorted me to the edge of the field, giving me a dry pat on the shoulder. "Here. You've arrived. I'll leave you here, I have work to do!" "Hey! Wait... Mis—... K-Kael!" "There, good! You learn fast, I see," he grinned. "Ah, I almost forgot: this is the zone where you'll train together with others." He spat on the ground finishing the sentence. "Careful not to piss off Zoltan too much!" He walked away, chuckling, his back to me.
I walked into the courtyard before me. It seemed, I don't know, too quiet, but the air tasted of iron. I saw a dozen boys inside, and in the center of the courtyard was a huge man, with granite shoulders and a scar that cut his eyebrow in two. He saw me but said nothing. He simply pointed to the group of recruits. One of those boys made a strange gesture to me, as if to indicate something. But I paid it no mind. Etiquette was the only weapon I knew. I advanced toward the man, fairly confident.
"Well... pleased to meet you, Si—" "Where the fuck are the others? That fucking stable boy was supposed to bring me two other kids! Ah, well, let's begin." "H-Here, I was alon—..." I tried to answer.
SHING.
A blade of invisible wind slashed the ground half a meter from my feet. The gust hit me full in the face, knocking me backward. Are we joking? I thought. This guy is crazy! Someone laughed. The older ones, however, remained serious. They knew this wasn't a game. If he had aimed ten centimeters further, I wouldn't have legs anymore.
"The last one to accumulate the most warnings today," Zoltan thundered, "will fill the latrine pit with their mouth. Run. Now!"
They all took off. I scrambled up, spat out the dust, and ran after them. After the fifth lap, reality hit me. The others were using mana to reinforce themselves. They didn't get tired. My breath began to burn like liquid fire. My legs became heavier and heavier. The boy who had made the gesture earlier slowed his pace and came up beside me.
"Pretty cool, huh?" he said, wiping his sleeve across his forehead. "That's Zoltan, our captain. You'll get used to his peaceful ways soon enough!" A laugh accompanied those words, but honestly, I was quite bewildered. "Uh," I nodded. "Is it always like this here?" I asked the boy. "Are you kidding? It's usually worse! We're lucky that today those two bastards, the Eisenhart brothers, didn't come!"
Eisenhart? Does he mean my brothers? I thought. "B-Bastards?" I asked, a bit astonished. Certainly, my father was one, but my brothers, why? I didn't want to continue the conversation, I simply pretended nothing was wrong.
"Ah! I'm Theo," he exclaimed suddenly. I didn't introduce myself. I didn't want my name known, at least for now. I thought to deflect the conversation, but when I was about to answer, he continued. "You must be Luthian, right?" He said my name loudly. I didn't understand how he knew my name. I heard various voices from the group running ahead of us. Some even turned around. I didn't know what they were saying, but I didn't care all that much. Surely they know about the ceremony, even if I don't see the same faces as yesterday. I decided not to give too much weight to the situation. After all, what is done is done.
I continued that asphyxiating run with Theo trailing me, bombarding me with questions. It was irritating, but like Kael, he somehow managed to bring me a bit of cheer. But one thing was certain: I couldn't tell if he was stupid or simply had a nature that was too "genuine."
Zoltan walked along the path, correcting, screaming, stopping anyone who slowed down. He seemed to be having the time of his life, especially when I passed by. By late afternoon I was destroyed. Then the atmosphere changed. The courtyard went silent. I raised my gaze, blurred by sweat. Rowan and Darian had entered. They were wearing new, shiny training armor. Completely out of place here.
"Brothers..." I murmured with a smile. They stopped. I recognized those looks for a moment. It was them. They seemed to want to tell me something, but it lasted only a brief moment. I hoped for their emotional support, for words that would help me and that perhaps I wanted to hear. Rowan took a deep breath and his face changed drastically.
"It's really him," Rowan said, wrinkling his nose. "I don't believe it." I tried to smile, a pathetic attempt. "At least you are—" "You know only the best train here?" Rowan interrupted me. "How did you end up here?" Darian pressed, taking a step forward. "Pity? Or because it looks bad to throw an Eisenhart out in front of everyone?"
I lowered my gaze. I felt my cheeks burning. I didn't understand why they were so hostile. Until a few days ago we played together. "Avoid calling us brothers," Darian concluded with disgust. "They might think we are the same."
Rowan walked past me. For a moment I saw his eyes: they were sad, they looked like they had cried all night. But that moment ended. I noticed that, just before making the gesture, he hesitated. It was only an instant, almost imperceptible, but I saw it clearly: his shoulder trembled before stiffening. Then he gave me a sharp shoulder check. It was like being hit by a boulder. I landed on my back in a puddle of freezing mud and stagnant water.
The silence in that moment was torture. Then some laughed. Every snicker hit me like a lash on bare skin, making me shrink even further against the naked earth. I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms, while a furious heat rose in my chest, burning like acid at the back of my throat. I wanted to spring to my feet and strike every single face towering over me, but the humiliation choked my breath, making my muscles heavy.
In that moment, Theo arrived. "Hey! Noble Rowan!" He approached Rowan giving him a little pat on the shoulder. Then suddenly he crouched down, starting to touch my brother's shiny armor. "Wow, must be expensive I imagine! I wore these too when I was smaller in the city parades." In that moment Darian stepped forward, but Rowan interrupted him. I saw his lips smile; even if it lasted only a moment, it was a satisfied laugh, one of relief. "What would a commoner like you know?" "Tsk! Let's go, Darian!"
Zoltan arrived at that moment. Darian immediately changed expression, feigning innocence with a slightly fake giggle. "Ah... how clumsy. Tripping like that..." Zoltan didn't look at them. He came straight toward me. Theo began to draw attention to himself, starting to say something. "Captain! Captain! Look here, the vole—"
For me in that moment, time stopped for a second, or rather, everything around seemed to disappear. I felt nothing anymore. I still loved my brothers and I knew that perhaps, deep down, what had happened was just an outburst of theirs. Or at least I hoped so. In that moment I heard the voices around me again. Zoltan grabbed me by the arm and hauled me up as if I weighed nothing. Snapping me back to reality.
"On your feet, Princess. You look too relaxed in the mud. Do another three laps, now!"
I wiped the mud and tears with my filthy sleeve. I started running again. I didn't look at anyone. The others behind me started running after Zoltan began screaming at them too. I still heard my brothers' voices inside, but something told me not to believe them.
"Hey! Luth!" A voice kept calling me; I turned and saw Theo. "Luth?" I said. Hah! What do I do with him? But, thank you. In that moment I thought to thank him. I knew he had come to my defense, even if in his own unique way. But I said nothing to him. Surely he would have continued with his speeches, twisting me around endlessly.
"You don't like it? Luthian is too long. Luth is perfect!" "Luth, huh?" It didn't sound bad. "Call me whatever you want, just leave me alone!" I told him, laughing.
At that moment I turned toward Zoltan who was speaking with Rowan and Darian. They were leaving and Rowan looked at me for a moment. It was an affectionate greeting made with his eyes, even if it didn't show on his face. But I felt it was so. He turned, calling Darian, and they left.
Training ended late in the evening. Zoltan called us to gather, explaining what we should expect the next day and that we had to be ready for combat drills. Theo accompanied me that evening. We didn't speak of what happened. Actually, I must say it was practically just him talking, but we arrived beside the stables where Kael seemed to be waiting for us.