Eric did not stop riding until the spires of House Vikram disappeared fully behind the gray line of the horizon. Even then, he did not slow his horse. The rhythm of hooves drumming across the packed earth became the only sound that did not claw at his mind. Everything else—memories, flashes of the duel, the choking silence after Kael fell—pressed against him like a storm trapped inside his skull.

  Days had passed since the battle. Days since he had stood over Kael’s still body, believing he had ended him. Days since he staggered through the gates of House Vikram, trembling, exhausted, and drenched in guilt he couldn’t wash away. He had not been able to sleep properly since then. Every time he shut his eyes, he felt again the burning throb behind his right eye, the terrible force that surged through him the moment he opened it.

  The pain had been indescribable. A deep, searing ache not just in the eye itself but throughout his bones, as though something ancient had forced its way into him and carved its presence into his body. The agony had lingered for nights, pulsing in waves, refusing to leave him. Only yesterday had it finally begun to ease… but the memory of it lingered like a bruise on his soul.

  He needed strength. Real strength. Not the reckless desperation that had consumed him the night he attacked Kael. He needed control—of his power, of his emotions, of the terrifying eye that awakened against his will.

  And there was only one person he knew who could help him.

  Alex.

  He remembered Alex’s words from long ago, spoken almost casually during a quiet conversation: “If you ever want to understand flame, real flame, not those weak sparks you toy with… come find me.”

  At the time, Eric had laughed. He didn’t laugh now.

  The first day of travel was a blur of relentless motion. Eric barely ate, barely rested. His horse snorted in protest more than once, but Eric pressed on, driven by a weight in his chest that felt heavier than any armor. By the second day, the world around him began to shift. The open plains near House Vikram gave way to rolling hills and scattered woodland. Patches of golden grass swayed like waves beneath the wind. Clouds drifted slowly across a pale afternoon sky.

  He said little. There was no one to hear him anyway.

  But his thoughts chased each other without rest.

  Kael should be dead.

  Why isn’t he dead? Did I fail… or succeed?

  Why did I open that eye? What even is it?

  Alex… will he know? Will he help me?

  On the third day, fatigue finally forced him to break his pace. He stopped near a forest clearing, tying his horse to a low branch and sinking onto a fallen trunk. His muscles trembled from overuse. His vision blurred at the edges. The right eye—its color shifted now, though he still didn’t fully understand how—throbbed faintly under his eyelid, like a heartbeat.

  He pressed his palm against it and exhaled sharply.

  “Damn it… what did I awaken that day?”

  There was no answer, of course. Only the quiet sigh of wind weaving through branches, and the distant call of night birds. When he slept, it was shallow, restless, and broken. He woke before dawn, saddle-strapped the horse, and kept moving.

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  By the fourth day, House Ardyn finally appeared.

  It rose like a fortress carved from shadow and silver—a sprawling manor surrounded by tall, intricately carved pillars. Blue lanterns hung from iron arches, glowing softly even in daylight. Trees lined the pathways, their leaves shimmering with a strange luminescence. House Ardyn was unlike House Vikram’s cold stone severity or House Torin’s militant regiments. It had an aura of mystery, depth, and ancient knowledge.

  Eric slowed his horse, exhaling a long, steady breath.

  He had arrived.

  He guided his horse to the main gate. Two armored guards stood on either side, spears crossed. Their helms bore the emblem of Ardyn—a crescent flame encircling a sigil of flowing wind.

  One guard stepped forward.

  “State your business.”

  “I’m here to… see someone,” Eric answered. His voice felt foreign after days of silence. “His name is Alex.”

  The guards exchanged a look, then nodded.

  “You’re expected.”

  Expected? Eric frowned, but said nothing as they opened the gate.

  He dismounted, leaving his horse with a stable hand, then crossed the grand courtyard. Every detail felt sharper, more heightened—the scent of polished wood, the soft hum of energy in the air, the faint sound of running water from the courtyard fountains. He paused before the towering entrance doors, gathering himself.

  Then he pushed them open.

  The hall inside was vast and dimly lit, lined with stone pillars etched in swirling patterns. A long carpet stretched toward a staircase that split into two curving paths. And standing at the end of the hall, waiting as though he knew exactly when Eric would walk in—

  Was Alex.

  His arms were crossed. His expression unreadable. But there was no surprise in his eyes—only a quiet, steady awareness.

  Eric’s steps slowed.

  “…Alex.”

  “You took longer than I expected,” Alex said calmly.

  Eric blinked. “You… were expecting me?”

  Alex didn’t answer immediately. He only tilted his head slightly, examining Eric with the sharp, perceptive gaze that always made Eric feel like every thought in his skull was being dissected.

  “You look like hell.”

  “I traveled four days. Didn’t stop much.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Eric stiffened. Alex’s eyes moved to the right side of Eric’s face.

  “That eye… something happened.”

  Eric swallowed. His throat felt dry.

  “I need help,” he said quietly. “And you’re the only one I know who might know what this is. The pain lasted for days. I can’t control it. I don’t even understand it.”

  He hesitated. The next words felt like swallowing pride and spitting out desperation.

  “Teach me… flame control. And teach me whatever you know about… this.” He tapped his right eye.

  Alex studied him for a long moment. Then, without warning, he moved past Eric.

  “Come with me.”

  Eric followed, tension in every step.

  Alex led him through a corridor lined with glowing blue crystals. Their light rippled across the walls, casting shifting patterns.

  “You want strength,” Alex said as they walked. “Not just power. Strength comes from understanding your element, your mind, your limits. Fire is not just destruction. It is intention.”

  Eric nodded silently.

  “And the eye…” Alex continued. “That is something I will need to examine. But I can tell already—it’s not something ordinary.”

  They reached a wide inner chamber. Bookshelves lined the walls, encircling a central platform marked with glowing runes.

  Eric looked around. “What is this place?”

  “Training hall,” Alex answered. “One of them.”

  Eric exhaled slowly. “So… you’ll train me?”

  “I will.”

  Relief washed over Eric like water on scorched stone.

  “But,” Alex added, raising a hand, “you need to prepare. Your body is strained. Your mind even more so. You will not start today.”

  Eric nodded again. He had expected that.

  Alex stepped closer, lowering his voice.

  “And there’s one more thing you need to know. Something important before we begin.”

  Eric lifted his gaze.

  “I didn’t bring you to House Ardyn only because you asked for training,” Alex said. “There is someone you must meet. Someone above me.”

  “Above you?” Eric frowned. “Who?”

  Alex stepped back, straightening.

  “Tomorrow,” he said evenly, “you will meet the head of House Ardyn.”

  Eric blinked. “The… head? Why?”

  “Because he is the only one who can authorize the kind of training you need.”

  Eric’s pulse quickened. “And you… how do you know all this? How do you have access to the head of the house?”

  For the first time, Alex’s expression shifted. Not dramatically—just enough for Eric to sense the weight behind it.

  “Because,” Alex said quietly, “I am the butler of House Ardyn.”

  Eric froze.

  The words hit him like a hammer.

  “You… what?”

  Alex didn’t flinch. “I serve the house directly. I have for years.”

  Eric stared at him, stunned. Of all the things he expected to hear, that was nowhere on the list.

  “You’re the butler… of an entire ruling house?” he managed.

  “Yes.”

  “And you never told me?”

  “You never needed to know. Until now.”

  Eric opened his mouth… then closed it again. Shock coiled inside him like a tightened spring, but beneath it, a strange sense of clarity.

  Alex wasn’t just knowledgeable. Wasn’t just skilled. He carried authority—real authority.

  Which meant Eric had chosen correctly.

  Alex turned away. “Your room is prepared. Rest. Tomorrow, everything begins.”

  Eric drew a slow breath, letting the shock settle. Letting the

  weight of the coming days take shape in his mind.

  “Right,” he murmured. “Tomorrow.”

  He followed Alex toward the guest chambers, his steps steady despite the storm inside him.