Vern sat quietly across from Lady Mizuki, the soft sound of water trickling beside them. The silence between them was not uncomfortable, but heavy—like the pause before thunder speaks.
Lady Mizuki's eyes studied him with unreadable calm before she finally spoke.
"So… how have you been, Vern?"
Vern met her gaze without flinching.
"I am good, Lady Mizuki. And you… mother?"
The word held both weight and distance. He said it smoothly, but not warmly.
Mizuki's lips curved faintly.
"I'm well. When I heard you came back alive after being hunted by assassins… I admit, I didn't believe it."
She looked at him with the grace of a woman trained in elegance—but there was something sharp beneath her poise.
Vern gave a half-smile.
"Ah, I was just lucky."
Mizuki's gaze narrowed slightly.
"Your luck is quite remarkable."
He tilted his head.
"Are you disappointed that I'm not dead?"
Her reply came with feigned shock.
"How could I ever want my son to die?"
"Your face says otherwise." Vern replied coldly.
A flicker passed through her expression—gone too fast to name.
"You've changed a great deal since I last saw you," she said, adjusting her sleeve. "Bolder. Is that what surviving death does to you?"
Vern's tone was measured, almost philosophical.
"Thanks to you and the other mothers… I've learned how to grow quietly, like roots beneath still water."
She arched a brow.
"You speak like a scholar now."
"Did you think you were the only one in this clan with a mind?" Vern's smile didn't reach his eyes.
Lady Mizuki leaned forward slightly.
"Your tongue has become sharp."
"You're not the only one who knows how to wield a sharp tongue like a blade," Vern replied. "I've had years to learn from the best."
A slight glint lit her gaze.
"You really are looking for death, aren't you?"
Vern's voice dropped, soft but certain.
"Not here. Not yet. You won't kill me—not inside this hall. You're afraid of what Father would do if you harmed a successor candidate here."
Mizuki laughed lightly, though her eyes didn't soften.
"Oh my… You came here having measured every word and every step?"
"If I want to survive in this clan," Vern said, his voice low, "I must weigh every move like it's on a blade's edge."
Mizuki's expression shifted, just slightly—approving, perhaps.
"Mizune told me you insulted her."
Vern shrugged.
"Did I? I merely ignored her. If ignoring someone is considered an insult… then perhaps my dear sister lacks common sense."
Mizuki's tone sharpened.
"You've got courage, I'll give you that—insulting my daughter in front of me."
"It's only natural. But… you didn't summon me here just to scold me about Mizune, did you?"
"No," Mizuki replied. "You're smarter than I thought."
Vern met her eyes.
"Then tell me—why did you call me here?"
She looked away for a moment, as if addressing not him, but the hall itself.
"You know our clan well, Vern. We remember blood when it's convenient… and forget it when it isn't. You're lucky. Right now—you are convenient."
Vern smiled thinly.
"And that makes me useful."
"Precisely."
She paused before continuing.
"Three months from now, the Heavenly Wind Lotus Cave will open—for the clan's successor candidates to train before entering the Academy."
Vern nodded.
"Yes, I've heard. But what does that have to do with me?"
Mizuki's voice was calm.
"Don't forget, you're also a successor candidate."
Vern gave a short breath.
"I know… but I doubt the clan truly accepts me as one."
"Your name is already listed," she said. "Everyone is preparing for it—including Mizune. And as her mother, I want to give her something special… your mother Venisha's sword."
Silence.
Vern's eyes darkened.
"Why would I give it to her?"
Mizuki's tone was honey-laced steel.
"You can't even wield it. Your essence threads are barely awakened. That sword—'Black Wind'—is the twin to the 'White Wind' that the Patriarch himself holds. It's wasted in your hands. Give it to my daughter, and in return, I'll make sure you're fully prepared for the Wind Lotus Cave. I'll even arrange for privileges within the clan."
Vern stood, slow and composed.
"If that's what you want… then my answer is simple: I won't give it to you. Do whatever you want, but I won't part with my mother's sword."
He looked her dead in the eyes.
"It's my mother's sword. So no—I don't give it to you."
And with that, he turned, the stream still murmuring between them like the only sound brave enough to remain.
For a moment, Lady Mizuki's expression remained unreadable.
Then, like a quiet storm that had been held too long, a cold sharpness entered her gaze. The warmth of elegance faded, and the noble serenity she always wore like silk cracked ever so slightly. Her voice, when it came, was low and laced with steel.
"You dare to refuse me so directly?"
The petals outside shivered, as if stirred by a sudden change in the air.
But Vern didn't flinch.
He didn't bow.
He only met her gaze with the calm of a man who had crossed death and returned with nothing left to fear.
"Don't forget, Lady Mizuki… this hall may belong to you, but the Wind Blossom Clan does not."
His voice was quiet—dangerously so.
"You can't harm me here. Not today."
Mizuki's fingers twitched slightly, but before she could speak, Vern continued,
"I already sent my guard, Azum, to the Management Hall before coming. He's reporting my visit—your summons—and our meeting."
He tilted his head ever so slightly.
"If anything happens to me here, every elder will know where I went last."
The silence that followed was heavy.
A flicker of qi stirred the lotus leaves floating beside them. Somewhere, a wind chime rang once—like a warning bell.
Lady Mizuki inhaled, then exhaled slowly, regaining her composure like a silk veil settling after a sudden gust.
Her fury vanished behind her smile.
"You've grown clever."
Vern offered no smile in return.
He bowed slightly, just enough to be polite.
"Then… goodbye, mother."
With that, he turned and walked away, his steps slow, steady, and utterly unafraid.
The doors of the Hall of Still Waters opened before him once more—just as silently as they had when he entered—and this time, they closed behind him like the ending of a chapter.
The tower returned to stillness.
But the ripples he left behind would not fade so easily.