Aelar stumbled through his explanation, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah… we actually kinda met at the gate earlier. I was just almost get fall on the where sliced up but luckily im saved..."
Alena nodded along like she was listening, Her smile just kept growing until it looked like it might fall off her face. Meanwhile, her maid was tapping her foot so hard it could've drilled through the floor.
"Miss Alena, enough already. Upstairs. Now," the maid ordered, pointing at the stairs like it was a battlefield command.
"Fineee~," Alena sang, dragging out the word, but not before shooting Aelar one last mischievous glance. She practically skipped out, leaving the whole room buzzing with her energy even after the door shut.
Lord Rodel let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. "That girl is going to be the death of me. Always training, always cutting down trees like she's at war with the forest. Half the woods out there are bald thanks to her." He shook his head, though his lips twitched into a smile. "She's exactly like her mother. That woman used to beat me up during our sparring days."
The image made him chuckle, and to his surprise, Rioran chuckled too. For a brief moment, the weight of years slipped away, and they were just two old friends remembering good times.
Then the mood shifted again.
"Alright, Brom," Lord Rodel said, straightening up. "Take Aelar to his dorm. I need a word with his father. Alone."
"Yes, my lord," Brom replied with a respectful nod. He glanced at Aelar. "Come on, kid. Let's go."
Aelar froze, glancing at his dad. They'd never been apart before—not once. The idea made his stomach twist. "Father… is it okay?"
Rioran placed his hands firmly on Aelar's shoulders. "Of course. You need this." His voice was steady, sure. "Don't worry about me."
Aelar searched his face, and the calm certainty he saw there finally gave him courage. "Alright… I'll go ahead," he said softly, managing a small smile.
"Good man," Rioran replied, pride shining in his eyes.
Lord Rodel clapped his hands. "Men, dismissed. This is private."
"YES, SIR!" the soldiers chorused, marching out. The heavy doors shut behind them with a final thud. The air in the chamber thickened instantly—the laughter from moments ago gone, replaced by a sharp edge of seriousness.
Lord Rodel leaned forward, resting both palms on the table, his eyes boring into Rioran. "Now that the kids are gone—spill it. What really happened after you wiped out those demons in the war? Tell me the truth, Rioran Dayan… the so-called hero of Padayan."
Rioran's shoulders sagged a little. The name he had buried for years rang heavy in the room. He wasn't just "Reiran" anymore.
There's no running from it now, he thought grimly.
Outside, Aelar blinked in the sunlight as he followed Brom. The courtyard was alive—soldiers sparring, merchants shouting, kids chasing each other around. After years of hiding in ruins, the sight of so much normal life hit him like a punch in the chest.
So this is what we've been missing all this time…
"Why are you standing there gawking? Move it," Brom barked, snapping him out of his daze.
"Oh! Sorry," Aelar hurried after him. "It's just… this place is amazing. We don't have anything like this where I'm from."
Brom gave him a sideways look. "What kind of place are you from that you act like you've never seen a crowd before?"
And just like that, Aelar found himself talking more than he meant to. He explained their life on the road, the abandoned towns, the ruins, the silence. "Most of the places we stayed were just… empty. Dad always picked spots the demons already passed through, so they wouldn't come back."
Brom didn't comment, but his silence spoke volumes. No kid should've grown up like that. Especially not this kid.
They reached the trainee dorms—stone walls, wooden doors, no-nonsense design. Brom handed Aelar a key. "Here's your room."
"Thank you," Aelar said, bowing slightly.
The door creaked open, and Aelar blinked at the mess. Dust everywhere, cobwebs in the corners, random junk left behind. After living under his dad's strict "everything clean, ready to run" rule, this room looked like a disaster zone.
Brom noticed his face and smirked. "Yeah, it's filthy. Clean it up, you'll survive. Dawn training, eastern yard. Don't be late."
"Yes, sir," Aelar replied firmly.
Brom gave him a final nod. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow." Then he strode off, armor clanking faintly.
As soon as he was gone, Aelar's whole vibe changed. The nervous, starry-eyed boy vanished. In his place was the survivor his father had raised—methodical, sharp, efficient. He locked the door, checked the corners, studied the walls for weaknesses. Then, with practiced hands, he whipped together makeshift cleaning tools from whatever he could find outside and started turning the chaos into order.
If I'm going to stay here, it has to be my way, he thought, scrubbing with fierce determination.
Meanwhile, back in Lord Rodel's private chamber, the air was thick with history. Rioran sat straighter now, no longer hiding behind his false name.
Lord Rodel's voice cut like a blade. "All these years of silence. The rumors. The lies. People deserve to know what happened when you fought the Demon King. I deserve to know why you vanished when we needed you most."
Rioran's face stayed stone-calm, but his eyes flickered with storms. Memories clawed at him—choices, regrets, horrors too heavy for words.
"You want the truth?" he said at last, voice low and steady. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you. Some things were buried on that battlefield for a reason."
Lord Rodel leaned forward, eyes locked on his old comrade.
And for the first time in years, Rioran Dayan began to speak.