Aelbyrn.
The snows finally break on the first day of Spring, 1381. The mages are all celebrating.
Apparently, it was the longest winter in centuries.
Happy April Fools to those in Earth, if somehow—someday—you can see this.
I'm still in bed, watching the last of the ice drip off the roof. It's spring now.
Aelbyrn has spring, summer, and autumn—though if you ask around, every race has their own name for the seasons. I stopped trying to keep track.
I've learned a lot lately. Maybe more than I wanted.
My father didn't die from the assassins. He blew himself up—suicide, technically. Maybe he did it to keep them out of the house. Or maybe to keep them out of him. I try not to think about it. I sure as hell didn't write it down when it happened.
His sword's gone, too. Kairos and I went out, marked the spot, made it official. I threw every protection spell I knew over the grave. That's what Velthra heirs are supposed to do.
Sorry if the pace is off. I try to put you in the middle of things, but some of this is messy. I want to be a good narrator, but I know I'm not always reliable. Some moments are a blur. Some, I'd rather not remember at all.
Sydney? Yeah, I've ignored a lot of her warning signs. I thought she was a sociopath the day we met. Not that I cared. Maybe I'm just drawn to trouble. Maybe I'm worse.
(Not saying I like her, by the way.
Not really.
Anyway.)
The mission's coming up. Mari's in the kitchen, probably making breakfast for everyone before we head out.
You'll probably hear about it all soon enough. Unless none of this matters. Unless all these notes end up as just another story cut off halfway.
Either way?
I'm still here, writing it down.
For now.
—————
The estate was already humming with the odd, off-kilter energy that only came at the tail end of a long winter. Katsu hadn't even thrown off his covers when he heard the first bell echo down the marble hall.
A polite knock at his door.
Mari slipped in—impeccable as ever, her hair pinned tight, apron crisp over her uniform.
"Your guests are arriving, Katsu," she said, then nodded once. "I'll prepare the greeting. The kitchen is ready."
He grunted an acknowledgement and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
As he moved toward the wardrobe, the first voice rang out. .
Clear and precise, as if it had been trained to cut through noise since childhood.
"Announcing: the arrival of Lord Rei, heir of House Dravantiir."
The maid at the door was tall and willowy, hair dark and straight, clad in a uniform of dark slate and silver trim.
She inclined her head, almost bowing as Rei entered. Expression inscrutable, posture military, not a strand of hair out of place.
Rei's boots barely made a sound as he crossed the threshold, lightning-marked sigil of his house gleaming on the collar of his coat.
He paused at the edge of the sunken dining hall, eyes moving across the banners and tapestries with the air of someone cataloguing threats, not decor.
Before Rei could even comment, the next voice carried through the high ceilings, this time with a lilting accent and just a trace of mischief:
"Announcing: Lady Juju, of Soryuun, visiting in peace and in style."
This maid was short, copper-skinned, with clever green eyes that matched Juju's.
Her Soryuun livery was immaculate.
White with emerald trim, and she performed a tiny flourish with her hand, as if presenting royalty. Juju swept in right on cue, emerald cloak fluttering, lips curled in her usual sly half-smile.
"You must be Mari," Juju said, looking the maid up and down before giving her a wink. "It would seem Velthra hires well."
Mari didn't so much as blink, simply replied, "We aim for competence, not flattery."
Before the banter could escalate, a third voice cut in. Soft, steady, but brimming with nervous energy.
"Um—her Ladyship, Sydney of House Keahi, requests entrance."
The maid who said this couldn't have been more than sixteen, red hair tied in an unruly braid, uniform slightly rumpled as if she'd been sprinting.She actually bowed so low she almost lost her balance, earning a startled snort from Juju.
Sydney entered with the brisk stride of someone who wasn't sure if she belonged but was determined to pretend she did.
Her all black Keahi cloak flared at her heels,the cat ears at the top stood out more than ever.
Mari ushered all three into the grand kitchen, where the morning light danced across polished counters and the long table was already half-laid with steaming bread, fresh fruit, and rich-smelling coffee.
Katsu entered last, taking in the sight.
Rei already scanning for weaknesses, Juju at ease, Sydney awkward but alert.
Before anyone could sit, Mari gestured to the sideboard, her tone brisk.
"There are three founding Houses present, four if you count our hostess. House Velthra has prepared breakfast in accordance with tradition. Each of you will find something of your homeland on the table—though, if you complain, you may cook for yourself next time."
Juju slid into a chair with the kind of grace that looked casual but wasn't.
"Soryuun tradition is breakfast at noon. You're all very enthusiastic."
Rei snorted, but not unkindly.
"If you woke at noon in Dravantiir, you'd be dead by dusk. The kitchen serves at dawn, and the day starts with sword drills."
Sydney poked at the plate in front of her, eyebrows raised.
"Keahi usually skips breakfast, honestly. Unless there's a feast day. We burn too hot for heavy meals. Most of us grab something sweet and move on."
Katsu grinned.
"Well, since I'm heir... Velthra eats for the weather. After four months of snow, I say we make it tradition to eat a dragon."
Mari slid a cup of strong coffee in front of him. "That could be arranged."
Katsu's eyes widened momentarily
"Wait really?"
Mari took another sip of her coffee and walked away. Juju turned her gaze to Sydney, teasing.
"And you, Keahi, you ever wish your House had traditions like the rest of us? Or do you just make it up as you go?"
Sydney gave her a half-shrug. "We have traditions. They're just not… strict. Keahi likes freedom more than rules."
That was a lie.
Rei nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at Katsu. "The weather's changing. Does Velthra still bless the first spring sunrise?"
Katsu nodded. "Uh... I don't know. I'm still rewriting the tools—I'm kidding. I don't know, genuinely. Ask Mari."
Mari spoke from the heat of the stove "Yes." She walked to the table, placing last plate on the table, a kind of ceremonial bread dusted with herbs and salt. "Eat," she said. "There's a mission ahead, and the snow hasn't finished with us yet."
Juju smiled, then tore off a piece of bread then raised it in mock toast.
"To the end of winter. And whatever we manage to survive next."
They dug in, conversation slipping between House customs and half-joking debates about whose magic could melt the most snow. For a while, the rivalry felt friendly, the banter effortless.
If anyone noticed how strange it was for four heirs and a maid to share a table like family, no one said a word.
And Katsu, for once, allowed himself to believe—for a few minutes, anyway—that this new spring really could be a beginning.