The next morning, pale sunlight spilled through the tall windows of Azriel's chamber. He stood before the mirror, fastening the dark collar of his tunic with quiet precision. Behind him, silent as a shadow should be, Liliana observed. Her presence was steady, but never intrusive, her cosmic-blue eyes calm and unblinking.
At last, Azriel broke the silence.
"So," he asked without turning, "how did you end up as a shadow? You don't look like one born to servitude… you seem more like a noble lady."
Her voice, melodic yet subdued, carried no hesitation.
"Young master, my name is Liliana Thromborn. I was born into a noble family… but it fell. Our house crumbled, and I was to be sold at an auction." She paused briefly, her gaze flickering with a memory she did not voice. "But the patriarch purchased me instead, granting me a new chance at life."
Azriel stilled, his hand resting on the buckle of his belt. His voice lowered, soft, almost thoughtful.
"A new chance, you say…"
"Yes," Liliana replied gently.
"And do you like it here?" His crimson eyes flicked toward her, sharp yet not unkind. "Now that you serve under this roof?"
Her expression did not change, but her tone carried the faintest warmth.
"I do not dislike it, young master. Service, after all, is better than being sold to strangers. And now… my duty is clear. I am yours alone."
Before Azriel could respond, a knock came at the door.
"Young master," a woman's voice called, "the portal is ready." Then the voice fell silent.
Azriel adjusted his sleeves once more and gave a small nod toward Liliana.
"Let's go. It's time."
Together they walked down the long, polished halls of the Stark estate. Neither carried luggage all had already been sent ahead to the Academy's city, Astralis, a place that shimmered with the promise of knowledge and ambition.
When they entered the portal chamber, Azriel felt the weight of the moment press down. At the far end of the room, Edward Stark stood tall, his unique presence commanding the space as though he himself were carved from iron and will. Beside him stood Catelyn, her gaze fixed upon her son the moment he stepped through the doorway.
Azriel greeted them both with a composed bow, and Liliana mirrored his gesture, her movements elegant despite her role as a servant.
Catelyn stepped forward first. In her hands was a simple silver chain, unadorned, yet gleaming faintly with enchantment. Her eyes, soft with worry, met Azriel's as she reached up to clasp it around his neck.
"Be careful out there," she whispered, her voice thick with feeling. "This will protect you… when the danger you face is greater than you can imagine."
Azriel touched the chain briefly, then gave her the smallest of nods. "I understand, Mother."
Just as he turned to face the portal, Edward's deep voice cut through the chamber.
"Remember, Azriel… the Academy reveals more than it teaches. Be ready to be judged."
Azriel met his father's gaze. No words, only a firm nod in response. Then, without hesitation, he and Liliana stepped through the glowing threshold.
The portal flared brilliantly for a heartbeat and then dimmed, leaving behind only silence.
Catelyn's hand lingered in the air, as if reaching for the son who was no longer there. Her voice broke softly.
"I know he is strong. I know he can handle it… but why does my heart still feel so heavy?"
Edward turned, his expression softening as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest.
"That is the nature of a mother's mind," Edward murmured, his voice firm yet tender. "The heart worries even when reason knows the truth."
Catelyn closed her eyes, her words trembling.
"He's still so young… The Academy will test him in ways we cannot shield him from."
Edward's hand traced her back with steady reassurance.
"He will endure. He is not only our son, Catelyn. He carries Stark blood and my will. The world will not break him."
For a time, silence filled the chamber, broken only by the fading hum of mana where the portal had stood.
At last, Catelyn whispered, almost to herself, "Then let him return stronger… and safe."
Edward pressed a kiss to her forehead, his embrace steady and protective. His gaze lifted toward the dormant portal, his eyes steel-sharp.
"He will," he said with quiet certainty. "Because he must."
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Azriel stepped out of the portal, and the world around him shifted. The moment his foot touched solid ground again, his eyes widened slightly.
Before him stretched a city so vast it felt endless. Wherever his eyes wandered, there was city streets, towers, bustling markets, and rivers of people. The size of it was massive, easily comparable to a county. Yet, despite its scale, it belonged to no king or noble. Only one held dominion here the Academy. And above the Academy, the one who ruled it all: the Headmaster, Lord of Astralis.
The streets were alive with motion. Adventurers in hardened gear, young mages clutching spellbooks, and students dressed in the uniform of Astralis Academy filled every corner. The air was thick with chatter, laughter, and the occasional spark of magic flashing in practice. The entire city carried the weight of ambition and dreams.
Azriel moved forward, his footsteps calm, unhurried. As he walked, gazes naturally followed him. His presence was striking his face, flawless as if sculpted by divine hands, left no imperfection to be found. But it was his crimson eyes, glowing faintly under the sunlight, that stole breaths away. People who laid eyes on him found themselves staring in silence, captivated, until they realized he had already passed.
Eventually, he arrived at his hotel. His luggage had already been delivered, neatly arranged in the room. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, silent, then dismissed his shadow with a simple gesture. Liliana bowed gracefully before retreating to her own room beside his.
Left alone, Azriel walked to the tall window and pulled aside the curtain. There, looming across the horizon, stood the Astralis Academy its towering spires piercing the sky, shining as if woven from starlight itself.
He stared at it quietly, the corners of his lips curving upward into a faint smirk.
"So," he whispered, "I have come here again. What changes, what remains the same…"
His crimson eyes gleamed as he leaned closer to the glass.
"Will his strength also remains the same?" he murmured, almost as if questioning fate itself.
A low chuckle escaped his throat.
"We will see. I'm quite interested in how the future unfolds…"