After the announcement of the Great Lord’s arrival, all members of the Sungley mansion organized themselves in a line along both sides of the main hallway, lowering their heads as a sign of respect. The marble floor reflected the light coming through the tall windows, and the silence was so dense that even the brushing of fabric felt like an improper sound.

  At the end of the line, right where the hallway opened into the central hall, stood Caria and Laret. Both waited standing upright, holding back their emotions as they awaited the arrival of Laret’s father… and the new grandfather who had not yet met his grandson.

  When the lord finally crossed the threshold, Caria and Laret slightly lowered their heads, performing an impeccable bow.

  —Welcome home, father —both said in unison—. It is a great joy and an honor to have you back, together with our greatest knights.

  Garbard took a couple of steps forward before answering. His expression tried to remain firm and dignified, but the barely noticeable tremor in his voice betrayed him.

  —Raise your heads… —he said in a deep tone—. The joy and the honor should be my words. I feel blessed and grateful to be received with such warmth and affection… and not only that, but also with a new life.

  He paused briefly, taking a deep breath, as if he needed to steady himself. Anyone who knew him well enough would know that he was fighting the urge to smile too much, to break, to allow his emotions to surface more than what was fitting for the image of a Great Lord.

  When I was finally able to observe him clearly, I was impressed.

  Garbard was imposing.

  He wore polished steel armor that reflected the light from the windows, as if every glint responded to his mere presence. His silver hair fell freely over his shoulders, framing a face hardened by years and war. A beard of the same color reinforced his strong features, marked by discreet but telling scars.

  His eyes, a steely blue, held the calm of one who had seen empires fall… and the unbreakable firmness of someone who had never retreated on the battlefield. Although the weight of time showed in his features, his mere presence radiated authority: a power born not from titles, but from experience and scars.

  —So this is my grandson… —he finally said, with a deep and resonant voice—. In the end, the blood of House Sungley is born again.

  Laret stepped forward, visibly proud.

  —He has been waiting for you all these days —he said—. He now awaits, at last, to receive his name.

  Garbard nodded slowly. Then he stepped a little closer to Caria, and the hardness in his gaze softened slightly as his eyes rested on the small child.

  —May I hold him? —he asked solemnly, but also with a delicacy that contrasted with his imposing figure.

  —Of course, my lord —Caria replied without hesitation.

  With surprising care for someone of his size and armor, Garbard took the baby into his arms. His hands, which had wielded swords and shields countless times, now held that new life as if it were an irreplaceable treasure.

  He looked straight into his eyes.

  Why is he looking at me like that…?

  This is starting to make me nervous…

  At the moment the child’s gaze crossed with the lord’s, something imperceptible to most people occurred. Garbard felt a slight shiver run through his chest, like an ancient echo awakening within him. A subtle vibration, an energy that did not feel entirely unfamiliar.

  —It is decided —he said with a firm voice—. Your name will be… Kael.

  Caria opened her eyes slightly.

  —I have never heard that name before…

  Garbard formed a faint smile, and in his gaze a deep nostalgia was reflected.

  —Centuries ago, before the Great Union, deep within the Indomitable Forest, there existed a tribe known as the Velka, guardians of the balance between life and magic.

  —From among them was born a warrior with a luminous soul, who faced the darkness when men still feared even naming it.

  —His name was Kael, which in the ancient tongue meant Light of the Legacy: one who inherits the strength of the fallen to light the path of the living.

  —His sacrifice sealed a pact with the spirits of the forest, allowing humanity to survive the first dusk of the world.

  The hall remained in absolute silence. No one dared to interrupt.

  —Since then —Garbard continued—, few have carried that name. In the ancient tradition, to call a child “Kael” is a promise: that his life will be a beacon born from the legacy of heroes.

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  After those words, a reverent murmur spread among those present. Garbard carefully raised the child toward the light descending from the upper part of the hall.

  —And so it shall be —he proclaimed—. This is my grandson, Kael… the one who inherits the strength of the fallen to light the path of the living.

  The silence broke into applause and cheers. The name of the new heir of House Sungley echoed through the walls of the mansion, filled with pride, hope, and destiny.

  With the formalities dissolved and the solemn weight of the initial reception softened by applause and murmurs, the hall slowly recovered its rhythm. The echo of the name Kael still seemed to float between the columns, mixing with the faint clinking of metal and the brushing of cloaks damp from the journey.

  It was then that, behind the imposing lord Garbard, a man with a firm presence and confident stride entered the hall. Each of his steps echoed with a controlled rhythm, as if even the floor adapted to his presence. He wore silver armor marked by constant use, not neglect, and a deep blue cape waved behind him, heavy with the moisture of the road, yet proud in its fall.

  Unlike other knights who tended to announce themselves with noise and exaggerated gestures, that man needed no words. The very air seemed to recognize him.

  His brown hair, somewhat disheveled from days of marching, framed a face hardened by the sun and battle. The shadow of a beard covering his jaw did not speak of carelessness, but of sleepless nights, chained campaigns, and decisions made under pressure.

  It was Ken.

  Known in Taratios as the Blue Steel, a title not granted through ceremonies, but earned with blood and discipline. On the northern fields, when demonic hordes threatened to break the human lines, it was his sword that rose first, wrapped in the light of dawn. Since then, the blue of his cape became a silent symbol of hope for those who fought under his command.

  Despite that reputation, his gestures were simple and free of arrogance. Upon seeing Laret beside Caria, his expression softened, and a sincere, almost brotherly smile appeared on his face.

  —It’s been a long time, my friends —he said, with a warm tone that contrasted with his fame—. Well… I think this ritual would not be complete without a proper celebration for the new member of the family and for the lord’s victorious return.

  Some knights nodded, while others exchanged looks filled with exhaustion and anticipation. The journey had been long, but the promise of a banquet seemed to restore part of their lost energy.

  However, before Ken could continue, a different presence made itself known.

  Behind the steps of the knights, a more discreet figure entered the hall, without armor or symbols of war, yet whose stride imposed a different kind of silence. It was not the silence born of fear, but the kind that demands attention.

  —Do not be so hasty, Lord Ken —a firm and measured voice intervened—. First, the lord and the knights must acclimate to their arrival and unload their equipment.

  Redda, the head of the Sungley household staff, advanced with precise steps. Her posture was impeccable, and each of her movements seemed executed with deliberate intent. She needed neither sword nor military rank to command respect; her presence alone was enough.

  Her hair, gathered into two braids that fell down her back like twin banners, framed a face marked by years, though not by weakness. In her gray eyes lived a calm severity, born from decades of watching entire generations grow, fall, and be replaced under the same roof.

  In the Sungley mansion, everyone knew it:

  Redda was the true axis of the house.

  She had raised Laret since childhood, correcting his posture before his words, teaching him that the Sungley name was not carried only in blood, but in every gesture and decision.

  —My lord —Redda said, slightly inclining her head toward Garbard—, I have already ordered the unloading of the travel equipment and the general organization. The knights are heading to their homes to rest. I suggest you do the same.

  —Tonight, I will have the welcome banquet fully prepared.

  Garbard observed her for a moment longer than usual. In his gaze, fatigue and recognition were mixed.

  —Ah, Redda… always so dedicated and foresighted. Thank you very much.

  She nodded briefly, accepting the thanks as a natural part of her duty, then turned toward Caria and Laret.

  —My lady Caria, my lord Laret —she continued—, I am glad to see you healthy and in good spirits. My congratulations on the new member of the family, Kael.

  —Tana, please take Lady Caria to rest. We do not want the lady of House Sungley to overexert herself.

  —Yes, Miss Redda! Right away! —Tana replied enthusiastically, stepping forward without wasting time.

  Caria smiled, both embarrassed and grateful.

  —Redda, I appreciate your concern, but I feel fine. I could even help with the preparations for the welcome celebration.

  Redda observed her carefully, evaluating her from head to toe, like someone measuring not only physical health, but also the weight of the responsibility ahead.

  —Do not worry about the celebration —she said without hesitation—. I will take care of everything; that is my duty.

  —You should rest until the celebration. As the future lady of this house, you must focus only on your obligations.

  —Alright… thank you very much for your concern, Redda —Caria replied, finally giving in.

  Ken let out a loud laugh, breaking the accumulated tension.

  —Hahaha… Redda, always so strict and demanding.

  Laret glanced at him, warning him.

  —Hey, be more considerate…

  Redda slowly turned toward Ken. Her gaze alone was enough to tighten the atmosphere once again.

  —Lord Ken —she said with measured coldness—, you must also rest. And above all, clean yourself.

  —You smell like a wet dog. You have not bathed in several days. Go wash and prepare for the celebration.

  —Yes, my lady! —Ken replied immediately, straightening up as if standing before a general.

  Laret could not contain his laughter.

  —You deserved that… that was brutal —he said, shaking his head while laughing.

  Redda raised an eyebrow, fixing him with her gaze.

  —As the heir of House Sungley, show more discipline, my lord.

  —Yes… my apologies, Redda —Laret replied, lowering his head.

  Definitely… that woman is capable of bending all of them to her will.

  Many interesting people have arrived.

  This is becoming more and more entertaining…

  I hope the welcome celebration comes soon.

  I want to meet more people.