Kael made his way through the grand halls of the Draylen estate, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the ornate carpets that stretched endlessly beneath his feet. The dim lighting of the corridors, paired with the cool air of the house, sent a familiar shiver down his spine. It was both a physical sensation and a mental one, a chill that came with memories tied to this place—memories that belonged to Kael but weighed heavily on Nate as well.
The study was as he remembered: vast bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, a large mahogany desk at the center, and an imposing chair where his father always sat, exuding authority without effort. The scent of polished wood and aged paper filled the air, mingled with the faint aroma of pipe smoke.
Kael paused outside the door, his hand lingering on the handle for a brief moment before he pushed it open. His father, Darius Draylen, sat at the desk with his back to the door, gazing out of the tall window that overlooked the sprawling estate grounds. The silhouette of the man was sharp and unmoving, his presence filling the room even in silence.
"You called for me," Kael said, stepping inside and closing the door softly behind him. His voice was calm, even measured, though his heart felt heavier with every step closer to the desk.
Darius turned his chair slowly to face him, his piercing gray eyes narrowing as they settled on Kael. For a brief second, his expression faltered, his brows knitting together ever so slightly, as if something about Kael had caught him off guard. But the moment passed quickly, replaced by his usual stern demeanor.
"Sit," Darius said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. His tone was curt, leaving no room for argument.
Kael obeyed, lowering himself into the chair without a word. He met his father's gaze evenly, his own blue eyes betraying none of the turmoil he felt inside.
There was a long pause as Darius studied him. His gaze swept over Kael's features—the sharper lines of his face, the striking blue of his eyes, the way he carried himself with calm confidence. This time, however, Darius didn't hold back.
"Your appearance," he said, his tone cool but inquisitive. "It's not just your strength that's changed. The face you wear is sharper. Your eyes—blue where they were once dark. What caused this?"
Kael felt a momentary pang of unease but quickly masked it with a steady expression. He had anticipated scrutiny, but hearing Darius voice it directly made it all the more real. "It's... the result of my growth," he replied carefully. "The training I've undergone, the challenges I've faced—they've made me stronger, in more ways than one."
Darius leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze unwavering. "Growth," he echoed. The word hung in the air, tinged with skepticism. "It's an unusual transformation, to say the least. One might even say... unnatural."
Kael held his father's gaze, determined not to falter under his scrutiny. "Unusual, perhaps," he admitted. "But everything I've become, I've earned. And I'll continue to prove that."
Darius studied him for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he spoke in a measured tone. "Strength, appearance, composure—you claim you've changed. But remember, Kael, change without purpose is hollow. Whatever transformation you've undergone, it will mean nothing if it does not serve this family."
Kael clenched his fists in his lap, suppressing the mixture of Nate's pride and Kael's lingering emotions. "It does serve a purpose," he said firmly. "I've returned to take my place here, and to prove that I'm no longer the boy you once doubted."
For a moment, Darius said nothing. His expression was as stern and calculating as ever, but Kael thought he glimpsed the faintest flicker of approval in his father's eyes before it vanished.
"Very well," Darius said finally. "If you're ready to prove yourself, then you'll need to show me. Words will not suffice. Actions will."
Kael nodded, his resolve hardening. He had expected nothing less from his father. Whatever trial awaited him, he would face it—not as the weak and uncertain Kael of the past, but as the person he had become.
"I won't disappoint," he said, meeting his father's gaze with unwavering confidence.
Kael anticipated that would conclude the conversation, but Darius continued, his tone growing colder. "I won't be attending dinner tonight. You will see me tomorrow at the training grounds. Be prepared to show me the strength you've gained."
Kael inclined his head, accepting the challenge. "Understood."
Without another word, Darius turned his attention back to the view outside the tall window, effectively dismissing Kael. Rising from his seat, Kael left the study, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing faintly through the quiet halls.
As Kael made his way back to his room, his mind raced. In the game, the Kael he had known never awakened his element. No matter what choices players made, Kael's story was one of failure and mediocrity. But not this time. This time, he was determined to write his own story.
Tomorrow, he thought, clenching his fists. Tomorrow, I'll prove who I've become.
As Kael walked through the silent corridors of the Draylen estate, the weight of his father's expectations pressed heavily on his shoulders. The tension from their conversation still lingered in his chest, but it wasn't despair—it was resolve. Every step he took, every thought that ran through his mind, carried a single, unwavering purpose: to prove himself.
Nereia's voice chimed in his mind, breaking the silence. "Well, that went about as well as I expected. You really know how to light up a room with dear old Dad, huh?"
Kael smirked faintly, shaking his head. "What did you expect? A warm hug and words of encouragement?"
"Pfft, definitely not," Nereia replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "But, you know, it wouldn't have hurt."
Kael rolled his eyes, a small chuckle escaping despite himself. "Yeah, yeah," he said, his tone dismissive but laced with the faintest hint of amusement.
Kael stepped into his room and closed the door softly behind him, the weight of the day settling heavily onto his shoulders. He leaned against the door for a moment, letting the quiet stillness of the space envelop him. The faint glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room, but Kael barely noticed. Without another thought, he crossed the room in a few weary strides and let himself fall forward, slumping headfirst onto the bed. The cool fabric of the sheets pressed against his face as he exhaled deeply, the tension in his body beginning to melt away. For the first time in hours, he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, lying motionless as the world outside faded into the background.
Kael remained sprawled across the bed for a few moments, his face buried in the soft fabric of the sheets. The day had drained him—not just physically, but emotionally. His conversation with his father, the memories of the forest, the weight of the expectations—it all coalesced into a heavy fog that lingered in his mind. Still, he couldn't allow himself to give in to exhaustion. Tomorrow was too important.
He eventually rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as the faint moonlight illuminated the room in pale silvery hues. His thoughts wandered to the training grounds he'd seen as a child, where Darius would train in silence, every movement precise, every strike a demonstration of control and power. It had seemed so unattainable then. But now, Kael wasn't sure. He wasn't the same boy anymore.
"Do you think he's going to pull out all the stops tomorrow?" Nereia's voice suddenly broke into his thoughts, her tone light but curious. "I mean, you know the guy loves a challenge."
Kael smirked faintly, turning his head to the side. "I wouldn't put it past him to go all out. He's not one to take things lightly."
"Well, that makes two of you, then," she quipped. "Just don't forget to look cool while you're showing him up. Gotta keep that new sharp-and-dashing look consistent."
"Noted," Kael said dryly, though her teasing brought a flicker of amusement to his weary expression.
Nereia's tone softened slightly. "Seriously, though—you've got this. You've already been through worse than anything he could throw at you. And you've come out of it stronger. So tomorrow? Piece of cake."
Kael let out a slow breath, her words settling over him like a comforting presence. "Thanks, Nereia," he murmured, the tension in his voice easing slightly.
"Anytime," she replied, her usual energy returning. "Now get some sleep. You'll need to be at full power if you're going to blow his mind tomorrow."
Kael nodded to himself, rolling back onto his stomach and letting his eyelids grow heavy. The rhythmic sound of his breathing soon filled the quiet room as sleep gradually claimed him.