As the group was led deeper into the Everwood encampment, the atmosphere grew heavier. The guards, though disciplined, carried an air of caution—like men who had seen enough of the world to know when trouble walked among them. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows against the tent walls, and the scent of burning wood mixed with the crisp night air.
Kalem, now stripped of his weapons, felt an unfamiliar weightlessness. He wasn't defenseless—he never truly was—but there was a certain comfort in steel, one he had momentarily lost.
"Still feeling naked?" Jhaeros murmured beside him.
Kalem rolled his shoulders. "I've fought with less."
Lyra shot him a look. "This isn't a fight. It's a meeting."
Garrick chuckled. "With how many guards we just passed? Feels like both."
The tent they were led to was larger than the others, reinforced with wooden beams and lined with heavy furs. It wasn't built for temporary residence—this was a command center. Two more guards stood at the entrance, parting only after receiving a nod from the scarred veteran who had inspected them earlier.
Inside, a single long table stretched across the center, maps and documents spread across its surface. Several lanterns illuminated the space, their soft glow casting a golden hue over the occupants of the room.
At the head of the table stood Lord Mathias Everwood.
Tall and broad-shouldered, Mathias carried the air of a man who had long since abandoned the softness of nobility in favor of practicality. His dark hair, streaked with silver, was neatly tied back, and his sharp green eyes assessed them with quiet intensity.
To his right stood a woman in a deep green robe—likely an advisor. To his left, a man in mercenary armor, arms crossed, watching them like a predator sizing up prey.
Silence stretched for a few moments before Mathias finally spoke.
"You took your time."
Kalem gave a slight bow. "We came as soon as we were summoned, Lord Everwood."
Mathias's gaze flicked over each of them before settling on his daughter. "I hear the match ended in a draw."
Lyra nodded. "It did."
"And yet the academy saw fit to question his mental stability," he continued, eyes now fixed on Kalem.
Kalem met his gaze evenly. "I don't make for an easy student."
Mathias let out a quiet chuckle. "So I've heard."
Jhaeros folded his arms. "Forgive me, Lord Everwood, but I assume this isn't just about the tournament results."
Mathias gave him an approving glance. "No, it is not." He gestured toward the documents on the table. "Your match has stirred interest—both in you and in the academy itself. Some see it as an opportunity. Others see it as a problem."
Nara tilted her head. "A problem for who?"
Mathias picked up one of the letters. "For those who wish to maintain order. The academy has always been a neutral ground, meant for education and refinement. Your performance, Kalem, has drawn the eyes of people who would rather see power controlled than left unchecked."
Kalem frowned. "I've never been interested in power struggles."
Mathias nodded. "And yet you have been caught in one." He set the letter down and clasped his hands together. "I will be direct. You are dangerous, and people fear what they do not control."
A tense silence followed his words.
Then Garrick let out a low whistle. "Well, at least he doesn't sugarcoat things."
Mathias smirked but continued. "The academy will be keeping a close watch on you, Kalem. But I am not here to discuss them." He gestured to the group. "I called you all here for a different reason. Your match has shown me that you are not just students—you are warriors. And warriors do not remain unnoticed for long."
Jhaeros's ears twitched. "You think someone will make a move?"
Mathias nodded. "If they haven't already."
Nara narrowed her eyes. "You're saying we have enemies now?"
Mathias leaned forward slightly. "You always did. You were simply not important enough for them to act upon. Now, you are."
Kalem exhaled slowly. He had expected attention, but not so soon. "And what do you suggest?"
Mathias considered him for a moment. "You have options. You can align yourself with a faction—one that will protect its own. You can leave before the weight of your reputation crushes you. Or…" He glanced at Lyra. "You can stand alone and see how long you last."
Jhaeros's tail flicked. "And what is it that you want, Lord Everwood?"
Mathias smirked. "I want my daughter safe. And I want to know if the people around her are worth the risks they bring."
Lyra's expression hardened. "I make my own decisions."
Mathias chuckled. "Yes. And I respect that." His gaze returned to Kalem. "But that does not mean I will ignore those decisions."
Kalem met his gaze once more. There was no hostility—only a challenge.
A quiet understanding passed between them.
Finally, Mathias straightened. "I do not expect an answer now. Think on it."
The tension in the room settled slightly, but it did not disappear. This was not a mere conversation—it was the beginning of something larger.
As the guards stepped aside to let them leave, Mathias spoke one last time.
"Choose carefully, Kalem. The world is watching."
And with that, they stepped out of the tent, back into the cold night air.