Arion and Aiden slipped into the outskirts of the Western Capital just as the morning mist began to dissolve, shrouding their final approach. The city was a sprawling, tense hive of activity, choked with soldiers and merchants navigating the thin line between Kyon's forces and Cassian's loyalist enclaves. Every face was a potential threat, every corner a possible trap. Arion quickly secured a room at a small, anonymous inn nestled deep within the maze of narrow alleyways the kind of establishment where questions were never asked, and gold was the only currency. The room was cramped and smelled of old wood smoke, but it had a single, sturdy lock.
"Aiden," Arion said, crouching to look his son directly in the eye. "I must go out. I need to observe the palace structure, find the weakest point in the defenses, and confirm the movements of... The Serpent."
Aiden, now four and trained for this moment, nodded solemnly. "I will be a good shadow, Papa. I will stay hidden. I won't cry, and I won't let anyone see me."
"Good. This is your most important mission," Arion praised, giving his son a rare, genuine squeeze. "I will be back in two hours. Stay under the bed if anyone knocks. Do not open the door for anyone but me."
Arion adjusted his disguise a rough, patched cloak and a hood pulled low over his face and slipped out. He melted into the crowded, frantic energy of the Capital, relying on his years of training to see without being seen, his mind sharp and focused on the palace fortress that held his enemy and his imminent vengeance. Aiden waited. He sat patiently on the rough bed for the promised two hours. He practiced his silent breathing, and he counted the knots in the wood paneling, just as Papa had taught him. But two hours turned into three whole hours, and the silence of the room became suffocating. The sounds filtering up from the alley the laughter, the hurried footsteps, the distant clash of unseen steel were a symphony of the outside world, a world Arion had forbidden him to see.
The training was strong, but the curiosity of a four year old alpha was stronger. Papa is taking too long, Aiden reasoned. He taught me to solve problems. The problem is that Papa is gone, and he might need help. He slid off the bed, carefully picked up his small wooden dagger his most prized possession and silently unbolted the door. He slipped out, pulling the door shut behind him with the gentle click Arion had taught him.
He moved tentatively into the alley, his blue eyes wide, taking in the rush of scents and sounds. He kept close to the walls, just like a "shadow" should. The city was chaotic and exhilarating, completely unlike the quiet severity of the Northern Lodge. The visit was going fine, an exciting adventure of noise and color, until he made a mistake. He wandered into a slightly more open plaza, momentarily forgetting his vow of invisibility.
That was when a small group of rough-looking men petty thieves and opportunistic bandits drawn to the war torn Capital spotted him. They were initially looking for easy marks, but something about Aiden's features arrested them. His clothes were plain, but his posture was strangely regal, and his eyes the startlingly rare and luminous blue amber inherited from the mingling of two powerful lines were unmistakable, even if they couldn't place the lineage.
"Look at that brat," one growled, eyes lighting up with greed. "He's got the look of the gentry. Blue amber eyes. Those are rare. If we grab him, the royal family will pay a king's ransom to get him back. He must be a lord's whelp!"
Aiden heard the rough words and, remembering Arion's warning about showing weakness, immediately bolted. He ran as fast as his small legs could carry him, darting between the legs of passing soldiers and skirted merchants. The bandits pursued him, their calls echoing menacingly.
Just as a heavy hand reached out to snag the collar of his tunic, Aiden was yanked sharply off his feet. He was pulled into a dark, narrow hallway between two shop fronts with a sudden, strong force. He gasped, ready to fight with his little wooden dagger.
The hand clamped over his mouth was small, and the figure pinning him was only slightly taller than himself a child of perhaps five or six years old. "Shh! Quiet, you little fool! Do you want them to catch us both?" the other child hissed, his voice high pitched but commanding.
The bandits ran past the alley entrance, missing the small forms hidden in the deep shadows. When the coast was clear, the other child released Aiden. He was impeccably dressed in rich velvet, despite the dirt of the alley, and his chin was held high with an air of ingrained superiority. "Honestly, walking around the streets like that. Haven't you ever been taught discretion?" the child said, dusting off his own tunic with fastidious care. He looked down his nose at Aiden. "I am Prince Lorcan of the Southern Isles. And you, whoever you are, owe me your life."
Aiden, momentarily stunned by the near-capture, managed to straighten his tunic, instinctively adopting the rigid posture Arion demanded. "I am Aiden," he stated simply, holding his ground. "And I don't owe anyone anything, Prince Lorcan. But thank you for the shadow."
Meanwhile, Arion returned to the desolate inn room. He unlocked the door, calling softly, "Aiden, I'm back. We need to plan our move..."
The room was empty. The bedcovers were undisturbed, and the single, small window was latched. But Aiden was gone.
A cold, absolute terror seized Arion, chilling him far worse than the Northern Pass ever had. His carefully built control shattered. He didn't think of Kyon or the throne; he thought only of the tiny alpha son he had sworn to protect. He rushed back into the alley, his eyes wide and frantic, scanning the faces of the bustling crowd, his heart slamming against his ribs.
"Aiden!" he whispered, then shouted, ignoring his own rules of invisibility. "Aiden!" The Dragon Slayer had faced dragons and armies, but the prospect of his son lost in the hostile city broke him utterly. He was just a father, terrified and alone, panicked and searching desperately for the only light in his ruined world.