The gathering had barely recovered from Kael's return when the first official trial of worth was announced.
The Grand Convocation Arena shimmered with enchantments. Banners of all three noble families fluttered under magically conjured winds. Nobles murmured, students from academies whispered, and seated in their golden thrones were the heads of the Three Great Families.
Kael stood in the center, lazily spinning his sword once before resting it on his shoulder.
From the Third Family stepped forward a tall young man — the prodigy of his generation. Raythe Mireval, the golden child of House Mireval, whose talent in elemental combat was whispered about across kingdoms.
"You disappeared for two years," Raythe said, voice steady but eyes narrowed. "Let's see if your legend has kept up with your absence."
Kael raised a brow and smiled.
"So polite," he replied. "Are you going to duel me or read me bedtime stories?"
Laughter rippled through the crowd — confused, surprised, entertained. Kael didn't wait. He walked into the arena like it was just another room he owned.
The Duel
At first, Raythe overwhelmed him. Precision strikes, a mastery of wind and fire spells, and flawless swordsmanship — Raythe was everything a prodigy should be.
Kael dodged, blocked, and laughed through it.
But behind the jokes and that smirk, his eyes were calculating. Every move Raythe made, every weakness exposed — Kael memorized them like verses from a song.
Then, the moment came.
Kael's aura changed.
A crackle of thunder danced across his blade, and with a sudden shift in stance, he unleashed a mix of fire and wind to propel himself — sword humming with energy.
The crowd gasped as Raythe was disarmed and pinned in a blinding arc of black lightning.
"Looks like I still remember how to dance," Kael whispered, stepping back with a flourish.
Cheers erupted. The heads of noble houses leaned forward. Some smiled, others whispered.
Reactions
King Thalorien of the First Family chuckled deeply.
"That boy's grown teeth."
Queen Thalorien, his wife, watched with quiet pride.
"He never lost them."
Raythe, standing again, offered a bitter but respectful nod.
Kael smirked.
"You're good, Prodigy. But next time, try smiling more — helps with the bruises."
Their rivalry was born not of hatred, but of fire and mutual recognition.
A Moment With A Princess
From the dais, Princess Aeliria Thalorien descended.
She was elegance woven in starlight — the most admired woman among the three families. She had always watched Kael from afar, and now that he had returned, she saw what others missed.
He looked the same — and yet, not.
Kael met her eyes. He knew. He always knew she watched him. But he never spoke of it.
"You've changed," she said softly.
Kael tilted his head with a playful grin.
"Hopefully taller. Or are you referring to my improved sarcasm?"
She smiled faintly.
"You still joke when you're nervous."
His grin paused — just a flicker — before returning.
"What can I say? The arena's less scary than a princess making eye contact."
She laughed gently and walked beside him for a few moments.
"There's still something of the old Kael… hidden deep," she said.
"You've buried him under fire and thunder — but I think he's still breathing."
He didn't answer. Just gave her a side look, softer than usual.
"If he is," Kael said, "he must be very good at holding his breath."
A Glimpse from Another
Later that night, as Kael leaned against a marble pillar sipping something too expensive, a girl from the Third Family approached.
Lyra Vaelwyn — second daughter of House Mireval. Said to be the brightest flower in Mireval's garden. Elegant, clever, and admired across courts.
He noticed her before she spoke.
"Careful," Kael said as she approached. "Too much staring and people will start thinking I'm important."
She arched an eyebrow, amused.
"Are you not?"
"I like to think of myself more as an extremely handsome interruption."
Lyra let out a soft laugh.
"You weren't at the last two convocations. Whispers said you vanished. Some even said you died."
"Ah, tragic. I was actually doing charity work," Kael said. "Feeding my dragon, disappointing relatives — full-time service."
Lyra matched his smile.
"Well, the realm's been quieter without your interruptions."
"You say that like it's a good thing," Kael replied, tilting his head.
They stood for a beat in silence, the hum of noble chatter behind them.
"We'll meet again," Lyra said finally, her voice smooth as silk.
Kael gave a mock bow.
"That sounds dangerously like a threat."
She smiled and turned away, her steps elegant, her presence lingering.
Kael watched her go, then muttered under his breath with a grin:
"Third Family's sharpest blade isn't forged from steel."
Closing the Chapter
That night, when the world was quiet and the arena lights dimmed — Kael sat beside his dragon.
The beast's black scales shimmered with thunder under moonlight — a rare and terrifying magic, even among dragons.
And Kael's smile… faded.
Just for a moment.
He let himself remember the old man's stories. The girl's laughter. The boy's terrible scream.
He didn't cry. He never did.
He just let the wind wrap around him — the only one that never left.
"Tomorrow," he whispered to the stars, "we smile again."