The Vaelthorn library was quiet — the kind of silence that only existed in places where knowledge itself seemed to breathe. Dust floated in the air, golden in the shafts of light pouring from the high arched windows.
Kael sat stiffly at one of the long oak tables, surrounded by towering stacks of books. Ancient volumes lined the shelves around him, their spines worn with age — Histories of the Emestrild Empire, The Founding of Delcra, Laws of the Noble Court, Doctrine of Mana and Rule, The Book of Dominion.
It looked less like a reading session and more like a fortress built from paper.
Robert set down the last pile with a weary sigh, adjusting the sleeves of his butler's coat. "Now…" He exhaled, catching his breath. "You need to read all of this."
Kael blinked at the mountain of books in front of him. His quiet stare said everything.
Robert gave a tired chuckle and brushed the dust from his gloves. "These are all related to the empire's political system, Delcra's founding, and the noble houses' structure," he explained. "Lady Elric selected them herself."
He straightened a few of the uneven stacks. "She wants you prepared before your official appearance. That means understanding history… and how this world works."
Robert's emerald eyes softened as he looked at Kael. "But before that, I should ask you — how much do you remember about the empire itself?"
He knelt slightly beside Kael, lowering his posture so their eyes met. The gesture wasn't one of servitude, but of care.
Kael lifted his hand to his chin, thinking for a moment. His gaze drifted toward the windows, where the sunlight shimmered faintly through the curtains. Perhaps, he thought, this was the chance to truly learn about the world he was now part of — one that wasn't shaped by prophecy, war, or blood.
After a pause, he turned back to Robert.
"I know a bit about Delcra's history," Kael said quietly. "I read it when I was at Delcra Castle. But… only a little."
Robert's expression softened, though there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "I see," he murmured. "So you really don't remember everything."
He let out a small sigh, rubbing his neck. "Well then. We'll start from the very beginning."
He stood, scanning the pile of books before selecting one — a smaller, worn book with faded gold lettering across its cover. The Tree of the Beginning.
He placed it in Kael's hands with a faint smile. "We'll start here. This was the first book used to teach you how to read and write. It's a children's story, but it's part of the foundation every Emestrild child learns."
Kael looked down at the book, recognizing the texture of the old leather.
"You know the story, right?" Robert asked as he opened the first page, his voice softening into a storyteller's tone. "It's about the angel who lost his wings."
He began to read, his words slow and clear. "The angel's tears fell upon the world, and where they touched the earth, a great tree grew. Its roots sank deep into our realm, connecting heaven and soil."
Kael leaned forward, eyes on the picture drawn across the page — a wingless angel kneeling by a tree whose branches reached the stars.
"But humans," Robert continued, "did not wish to be his friends. They feared him. They turned away from him. So the angel created puppets — beings shaped like men, animals, and plants — to fill the world with life that would obey him."
Kael turned to the next page himself. The drawing showed the angel meeting a young boy beneath the tree.
Something inside him tightened.
The boy's smile, the shape of the field — it was the same as the dream he had of Licht.
Robert noticed the way Kael's expression softened. A quiet smile tugged at his lips. "You said before that you met the Guardian of Delcra — Licht — when you were young, right? When you told me about that memory before we left Delcra, it reminded me of this storybook."
He pointed at the next illustration. "See this? The angel planted a diamond in the boy's eyes as proof of their friendship. And that boy later became the founder of the Emestrild Kingdom."
Kael looked down at the page. The boy's eyes shone faintly with light — two brilliant stones of emerald green.
Robert continued gently, "The diamond was said to split into generations, buried deep within the blood of his descendants. That's why the royal family's eyes are emerald. His Majesty's eyes."
Kael's gaze lifted to Robert. His own red eyes caught the light, the reflection of green flickering faintly within them. He studied Robert's face — the pale gold hair, the same eyes as Reinhardt's.
For a moment, the memory of his nightmare returned — the nobleman who called him precious, the same hair, the same eyes.
Robert felt his stare and turned away, feigning busyness as he smoothed a page. "Ah, well," he said lightly, "it's only a legend."
He hesitated, then flipped to another page. "But the story doesn't end there."
He took a slow breath before continuing. "The boy — now king — discovered that the angel intended to enslave humanity. He betrayed the angel and sealed him away beneath the roots of the great tree."
Kael's eyes lingered on the next drawing. The angel's face twisted in sorrow and rage, and from the light of his broken wings, countless red-eyed, red-haired figures rose — soldiers, children, beasts.
Robert's tone grew quieter. "Angered by the betrayal, the angel created an army of puppets with crimson eyes and hair like fire. They destroyed half of the world before the king's army finally sealed them away."
The sound of a page turning echoed softly.
Kael stared at the illustration — a sea of red-eyed children vanishing into darkness. His hand brushed the page slowly. His voice, when it came, was almost a whisper.
"That's why they call us cursed children…"
Robert stopped. He looked at Kael for a moment, sadness flickering behind his composed expression.
"Yes," he said softly. "That's what the story says."
He let out a breath, closing the book gently. "But remember — it's just a children's tale. There are countless versions of it. This one is simply the most popular."
He smiled again, though the light didn't quite reach his eyes this time. "Now then," he said, trying to lift the mood, "let's move on to something more… educational."
He slid the book aside and picked up a thicker one, bound in black leather. "This is the actual history of the empire — the founding of Emestrild and the rise of the noble houses."
He glanced at Kael. "I dare say I make a decent teacher, though I can be a bit strict." His lips curved slightly, teasing.
Kael only nodded faintly, his eyes still distant.
Robert opened the new book, his tone shifting from gentle to firm — the kind of voice that once guided Kael through his sword training when he was young. "Now, let's begin. The First King, Caelum Emestrild, united the continent's fractured realms nearly four hundred years ago…"
The lecture continued.
Kael listened quietly, his posture straight, his attention unwavering. He absorbed each word, though somewhere deep inside, the echo of that story — the angel, the cursed children, the betrayal — stayed with him.
As Robert spoke of kings and empires, Kael's gaze drifted once more toward the window.
Outside, the wind stirred the trees in the courtyard. The light shifted softly, warm and golden.
For the first time, Kael wondered if history had ever truly told the whole truth.
-----------------------------------------
The afternoon light had long since mellowed into gold. Dust motes drifted lazily in the air of the Vaelthorn library, turning in the warm glow of sunset. The day had slipped away faster than either of them realized.
Robert, standing among half-open books and rolled scrolls, turned back to check on Kael — only to find him already asleep.
The young man was slumped slightly on the couch beside the reading table, his head tilted toward his shoulder, the last book he had been reading still open on his lap. The fading sunlight brushed against his pale skin, softening the sharpness of his features. His hair fell loosely over his forehead, catching streaks of gold from the setting sun.
Robert exhaled quietly, setting aside the pen he was holding. "So much for a quick lesson," he muttered to himself.
He approached Kael silently, boots muffled by the carpeted floor. A gentle smile found its way onto his lips — one of quiet fondness rather than duty. "You still haven't changed," he whispered softly, as if speaking to a memory.
He knelt slightly, reaching out a hand to wake him, but stopped midway.
Kael's face looked too peaceful. The soft rhythm of his breathing, the faint rise and fall of his chest — it reminded Robert of the boy from years ago, the one who used to fall asleep at the practice grounds after sword training. That same unguarded calm.
Robert's hand hovered for a moment, then lowered. "...No, let him sleep," he murmured to himself.
He straightened and began to quietly tidy up the table instead. One by one, he gathered the open books, stacking them neatly, brushing away loose parchment edges and stray quills. He handled each motion carefully so as not to make noise, glancing at Kael every few moments.
The library was serene. Outside the large windows, the horizon blazed faintly orange before deepening to crimson. The sound of wind stirring the trees filled the stillness.
Then — the soft creak of a door broke the quiet.
"Robert," a familiar voice called gently from behind.
Robert turned immediately, straightening his posture. "My lady," he greeted, bowing slightly.
Elric stood at the entrance of the library, the fatigue of a long day visible on her face. Her hair was slightly loose from its usual neat tie, and faint shadows rested under her eyes. She carried the scent of ink and parchment with her — the scent of endless paperwork.
"How are the documents?" Robert asked carefully.
Elric let out a weary sigh, her hand settling on her waist. "Halfway done," she replied. "If I keep going tonight, maybe I'll finish before dawn." There was a touch of dry humor in her tone, though exhaustion dulled it.
Her eyes then shifted past Robert — and softened.
Kael lay asleep on the couch, his head tilted toward the open window, bathed in fading sunlight. The faint breeze brushed through the strands of his white hair.
A small smile tugged at Elric's lips. "I told him he could take his time learning," she said, walking closer. "But it seems he didn't listen."
Robert chuckled quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "He tried," he said. "Truly, he did. But I suppose the books defeated him faster than I could."
Elric stopped beside the couch, her expression gentle as she looked down at Kael. "He's still pushing himself too much," she murmured.
Robert smiled faintly. "Even now, he's a fast learner," he said proudly. "Just like before. I only explained a little — but he grasped most of it in no time."
Elric turned to him. "That sounds like him." Her gaze softened again as she studied Kael's sleeping face. "Then we can move faster with his preparations."
Her voice lowered. "But I worry about his stamina. I don't want him collapsing in front of the court."
Robert nodded solemnly. "Yes," he admitted. "That's what worries me the most as well. I'll prepare tonics that can help strengthen his mana and stamina. His condition has improved, but his body is still recovering."
He looked at Kael thoughtfully. "He still tires too easily. It's been better since Delcra — less fainting, shorter sleep — but even so…"
Elric brushed a few strands of hair away from Kael's forehead. Her fingers lingered there, gentle, tracing the curve of his temple. "He looks peaceful like this," she whispered. "You wouldn't think he's the same man who's carried the weight of the world."
Robert said nothing for a while, watching the two of them quietly.
After a moment, Elric spoke again, her tone lower, thoughtful. "Did he say anything to you about nightmares?"
Robert hesitated. Then he shook his head. "No, my lady. Not directly."
She frowned slightly. "But?"
Robert exhaled. "But… he seemed fixated on the story of the cursed children," he admitted. "He spent a long time reading it — far longer than any other section. I think it struck something in him."
Elric's gaze lingered on Kael's sleeping form. "The cursed children…" she repeated softly. "I suppose it would."
Her voice grew quieter, almost to herself. "He carries their mark — red eyes, the stain of what others once feared."
Robert lowered his gaze respectfully. "He's never spoken about it openly, but I think he remembers fragments of that time. Whether dream or memory, I can't tell."
Elric sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Whatever it is, it's haunting him again."
Silence settled between them for a while. The only sound was the faint crackle of the lamps being lit by the servants outside the hall.
Then Elric spoke softly, her tone carrying a faint warmth despite the weight of her words. "Still… he's learning again. Reading, asking questions. That's more than he's done in months."
Robert smiled. "Yes. It's a start."
Elric nodded faintly. "Let him rest for now. He'll need his strength for what's coming."
Robert bowed slightly. "Of course, my lady."
She stayed beside the couch for a few moments longer, her hand resting lightly on the back of it as she looked down at Kael. The quiet rise and fall of his chest seemed to calm her as well.
"Sleep well, Kael," she whispered.
Then she turned and left quietly, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
Robert lingered for a moment more before dimming the lights, leaving only the glow of the setting sun to spill across the floor.
He glanced one last time at Kael, who now shifted slightly, his hand resting over the book on his lap — the page still open to the illustration of the angel and the boy.
Robert's voice was soft when he spoke, barely audible. "You really haven't changed at all, young master…"
He smiled faintly, then turned away, closing the library door behind him.
The last of the sunlight faded, leaving only the quiet — and the steady sound of Kael's breathing mingling with the whisper of turning pages, as if the books themselves remembered the stories he could not.