Steam rose lazily into the cold morning air, curling around frost-kissed rocks and crystalline pines. The Cliffside Hot Springs, nestled at the edge of Valebast's outer cliffs, were one of the duchy's quiet treasures. Protected by enchantments, they stayed warm even during the harshest northern winters.
Alaric leaned back against a smooth stone ledge, letting the hot water soothe the strain from his shoulders. Across from him, Jorin floated lazily, his arms draped over the edge, while Malric and Lira splashed in a shallower pool nearby, laughing.
"This feels amazing," Alaric murmured, his eyes half-lidded.
"Told you," Malric called. "Best place in the whole duchy."
"I think I'm melting," Jorin added with a content sigh.
"You need it," Lira teased, flicking a small splash of water at him. "After Alaric flattened you again in training."
Jorin groaned. "I let him win. Honorably."
"You tripped over your own foot," Alaric said with a grin.
Malric chuckled, then leaned back, his expression turning thoughtful. "Next year's gonna be different."
"What do you mean?" Alaric asked.
"We're turning thirteen," Malric said. "That means we're eligible to enter the Grand Arcanum Institute."
Lira nodded, her eyes twinkling. "It's tradition for noble children to start their advanced training there at thirteen. But it's not just about age. You have to meet the entry conditions."
"What kind of conditions?" Jorin asked, perking up.
"You have to be at least thirteen years old, and either Knight Rank 1 or Mage Rank 1 in any element," Malric explained. "Then there's the entrance exams—physical trial and written test. It's no joke."
Lira beamed. "But we're ready. I'm already Mage Rank 3 in Water and Rank 2 in Earth."
Malric puffed out his chest. "Knight Rank 3 and Water Magic Rank 2. Easy pass."
Alaric gave a small smile. "You'll both do great."
They turned to Jorin, who sank slightly lower into the water.
"I won't be going," he said quietly. "Not to the Arcanum, at least. I'm thirteen already, but… I'm not even Knight Rank 1 yet."
"Doesn't matter," Malric said. "You're strong."
"Strength isn't everything. You need money," Jorin added with a half-laugh. "And well… let's just say my family's coin purse is more dust than gold."
Lira rolled her eyes. "That's dumb. The duchess already promised to sponsor Alaric, so she'll sponsor you too. But you'll have to reach Rank 1 by next year."
Jorin blinked. "What? You'd really—?"
"Of course," Malric said, splashing water his way. "We're not leaving you behind."
Jorin grinned, suddenly flushed. "Thanks. You two are ridiculous."
Lira stood and splashed both of them. "Race to the far end!"
With a shout, the kids broke into splashes and laughter, echoing across the cliffs.
For a little while, there was no war, no shadows—only warm water, cold air, and the joy of youth.
Gathering the Shield
Later that afternoon, within Frostgate Keep's council chamber, Duchess Lireya stood over a wide table layered with maps. Beside her were Lord Marek, Knight-Commander Tharyn, and three regional captains.
"Scouts confirm it," Tharyn said, voice gruff. "The village of Erenshade is under siege. Dozens of monsters gathering on the ridge. The townsfolk have barricaded themselves in."
Captain Virel leaned forward. "And the leader?"
"Still unconfirmed," Tharyn replied, "but the tracks are massive. Too coordinated. Likely a Wyrm-Class commander—maybe corrupted. If it is, this won't be a clean fight."
"And it's winter," Marek added with a frown. "The roads are treacherous. We'll need mages for terrain clearing and barrier support."
"We'll ride with shield knights in the front and fire mages in reserve," Lireya said. "Two detachments and a healing corps. I will lead."
Tharyn nodded. "I'll prepare the troops."
Marek hesitated. "And the children?"
Lireya looked out the tall arched window, toward the snowy cliffs.
"Alaric, Malric, and Lira… they've trained well. I'll bring them—to watch, not fight. They need to understand what we're fighting for. But they stay behind the lines."
Virel raised an eyebrow. "That's risky."
"Not more than leaving them unprepared for what's coming," Lireya said. "It's time they saw the real world beyond the safety of Valebast."
She turned away from the window, her voice colder now.
"The storm is coming. Better they feel the edge of it now… before it swallows them later."
The Night Before
That evening, the main dining hall was quiet but warm. Fires danced in tall hearths, casting gold and amber light over the long stone walls. The four sat at a smaller side table reserved for family: Lireya, Marek, and their children—along with Alaric and Jorin, who had been welcomed as part of the duchy's household.
The food was hearty—venison stew, spiced root vegetables, and honey-glazed bread. The children talked between bites, occasionally laughing at something Jorin mumbled through a full mouth.
When the plates were cleared, Lireya set her goblet down and gave the three children a steady look.
"I'll be leaving at dawn," she began. "To lead the expedition to Erenshade."
The table grew still.
"Malric. Lira. Alaric. Jorin," she continued. "You'll be coming with me."
Malric nearly dropped his spoon. "Wait—seriously?"
Lireya nodded. "Not as soldiers. You'll stay behind the lines. You're not there to fight—but to observe. Learn. Understand what this world really is beyond the castle walls." Learn. Understand what this world really is beyond the castle walls."
Lira glanced at her brother, then at Alaric. Her brow furrowed with uncertainty, but her chin lifted after a moment. "We'll do our best."
Alaric looked up. "You're trusting us with this?"
Lireya offered a faint smile. "You've trained for years under our banner. You're not helpless children anymore. But you must follow orders—and never act without permission."
Malric exchanged a glance with Lira, Alaric, and Jorin.
"We understand," he said firmly.
Lireya leaned back. "Then prepare yourselves. Get rest. And be ready. The real world doesn't wait for us to be ready—it comes whether we are or not."
As they left the hall, Alaric looked back at the empty hearth, the last of the fire flickering.
He felt the weight of the duchess's words settle on his shoulders like the snow outside.
Tomorrow, everything would change.