A soft knock broke the silence of the late morning.
Kael, still in the process of slicing a fresh loaf of bread, turned his head toward the wooden door. His mother, Lira, looked up from the herbs she was drying near the hearth. Dren, half-dozing with a mug of tea at the table, straightened up.
"Expecting anyone?" Kael asked.
Dren shook his head. "Not a soul."
Kael wiped his hands and moved to the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by a uniformed courier. The man looked slightly nervous, holding out a sealed scroll wrapped in blue and gold ribbons.
"Message for a… Kael? From the Royal Capital."
Kael frowned. "I'm Kael."
The courier bowed lightly and handed over the scroll. Before Kael could ask anything more, the man turned and hurried off, as if eager to be away from the edge of the wilderness.
Kael stared at the scroll.
Royal Capital?
He broke the seal and began reading.
Lira stood behind him, her hands tightening on the towel she held. Dren crossed the room in a few strides.
Kael's eyes scanned the flowing script once, then again.
"You might want to sit for this," he muttered.
He read aloud:
> "We are pleased to inform you that you, Kael, have been selected as a candidate for enrollment in the Aldervale Royal Academy of Arcane and Martial Arts. This decision was made upon the direct recommendation and sponsorship of House Virelle. Your enrollment has been approved. Travel accommodations will be arranged within the fortnight."
Silence.
Lira blinked. Dren looked as if someone had hit him in the head with a hammer.
"House Virelle… That's a noble family," Dren said slowly.
Kael turned the scroll in his hands, almost as if the name would rewrite itself. "There's more."
He continued:
> "This sponsorship was formally requested by Lady Elira Virelle, daughter of Lord Asrin Virelle, with the intent to pursue further education alongside the applicant."
The scroll slowly lowered.
Lira's eyes were wide. "Elira's a noble?"
Kael exhaled, blinking fast. "She never told me."
Dren let out a low whistle. "She's full of surprises, that one."
The invitation felt unreal in Kael's hands. Royal Academy? House Virelle? Lady Elira?
That afternoon, the house buzzed with a different kind of energy. Dren paced the living room while Lira sat Kael down and peppered him with questions.
"Did she ever act like a noble?"
"No," Kael said. "She's… just Elira. I mean, she's proud and fearless, but she never flaunted anything. She didn't even have a family crest or a sigil on her clothes. Nothing."
Lira exhaled. "Then she probably wanted it that way."
Kael thought back to every conversation, every silence between them. Elira had always been guarded when it came to her past. She spoke little of her family. There had been moments—quick glances, distant expressions—that he had chalked up to hardship. But now…
She'd used her family name. For him.
"Do you want to go?" Dren finally asked.
Kael hesitated. "I… I think I do. Not just for the training. There's more happening in the world, and I can't stay in this house forever."
Lira looked down at her hands. "You just got home."
"I know."
She rose and embraced him tightly.
"But you're not a boy anymore, Kael. You've earned this. And Elira… maybe she knew you needed something more."
By sunset, they had begun preparing. Dren pulled Kael aside to help him retrieve his old traveling gear. Lira started sewing a few new tunics. Letters were written and sent back to the academy confirming Kael's acceptance.
Outside, the wind carried the smell of pine.
Inside, the fire burned steady.
Kael sat by the window that night, reading the letter once more under the glow of the lantern.
Elira had done this.
She'd made sure they'd continue this journey together.
And though Kael still didn't know what the academy would hold, one thing was clear:
This was only the beginning of the next chapter.