Peace had a rhythm of its own.
For weeks, the Blake home pulsed with that steady, precious cadence — laughter in the mornings, light dinners by dusk, quiet conversation in the glow of magitek lamps.
But every rhythm eventually changes its tune.
It began one quiet evening, as rain tapped gently against the balcony glass. Dominic sat at his desk, organizing reports from the Crownsguard. Lyla had gone to bed early; Sirius was out for his evening drills with Cor.
He reached for a folder — and his hand brushed something tucked beneath it.
A map.
Folded neatly, marked in dark graphite.
Dominic frowned. He recognized his son's handwriting instantly — clean, deliberate, unmistakable. The paper was worn at the edges, smudged where fingers had pressed too long.
He unfolded it slowly.
At first, it seemed simple — a child's sketch of Insomnia and its surrounding regions. But then his eyes caught the markings. Circles, clean and precise, drawn in places that shouldn't mean anything: Duscae, Leide, Cleigne, the Fallgrove, Costlemark, the Rock of Ravatogh.
Each circle was labeled in Sirius' small, tidy print.
And next to some of them, a note.
Possible dungeon.
Ruins hold traces of crystal energy.
Potential curatives — Superior Restorative, Megalixir.
Dominic's breath caught.
He knew those names. He'd written them himself once — in his old journal, when he'd researched treatments for Lyla's condition. But he had never told Sirius where they came from.
He turned the map over, reading the title written across the top in bold, steady hand:
"Shadow Paths – For When Light Fails."
The words felt too heavy, too knowing.
---
By the time Sirius returned home, the house was dim. Dominic sat at the table, the map spread out before him.
Sirius froze at the doorway, his breath catching. "Dad…"
Dominic's gaze lifted. "You made this."
It wasn't a question.
Sirius stepped forward slowly. "Yes."
"Why?"
"To be ready."
Dominic exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're twelve, Sirius. Children don't make emergency maps of the entire kingdom."
"I'm not a child," Sirius said quietly.
Dominic's eyes softened, but his voice stayed firm. "You're my son. And this—" He gestured to the map. "—isn't normal. These locations…" His finger traced the circles. "You couldn't possibly know about them. Even I don't know them all."
Sirius hesitated. "I just—felt where they should be."
Dominic stared. "Felt?"
He nodded. "Like memories that aren't mine. Like whispers in the back of my head when I see the terrain. They… fit."
Dominic's heart pounded in his chest. He'd seen strange things from Sirius before — impossible reflexes, inhuman adaptability — but this was different. This was knowledge.
Knowledge no one should have.
He folded the map carefully. "We're showing this to Cor."
"Dad—"
"No arguments." Dominic's tone left no room for debate. "Whatever this is, it's beyond us."
---
The next morning, Dominic entered the Citadel with the map sealed in a case. Rain misted against the barrier above, catching the light and scattering it into blue shards across the courtyard.
He found Cor Leonis in his office — standing by the window, arms crossed, the city reflected in his hard gaze.
"Blake," Cor said without turning. "You're early."
Dominic closed the door behind him and set the case on the table. "We need to talk."
Cor turned, brow furrowing at his tone. "About?"
"About Sirius."
That got his attention.
Dominic opened the case and spread the map across the table. The thin light from the window caught the pencil markings, illuminating every circle, every label.
Cor stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "What am I looking at?"
"A map Sirius made," Dominic said quietly. "On his own."
Cor's eyes flicked across the names — Cleigne, Malmalam Thicket, the Rock of Ravatogh. He froze at one in particular. "Costlemark Tower," he muttered.
"Recognize them?" Dominic asked.
Cor's voice lowered. "Every single one."
He looked up slowly, meeting Dominic's eyes. "These are the resting places of the Royal Arms."
Dominic blinked. "What?"
"The Tombs of the Kings," Cor said grimly. "Burial sites scattered across Lucis. Their locations are classified — known only to the King and a handful of the Crownsguard. How the hell does Sirius know this?"
Dominic's throat went dry. "He doesn't. Not consciously. He called them 'dungeons.' He believes they hold rare curatives — restoratives, Megalixirs. He's… been searching for one that could help Lyla."
Cor stared at the map again. His jaw tightened. "He wasn't wrong."
Dominic frowned. "What do you mean?"
Cor traced the circle over the Rock of Ravatogh. "Every Royal Tomb is tied to the Crystal's power. Some of the relics stored there — magic weapons, old blessings — carry residual healing energy. In theory… a Superior Restorative could manifest near them."
Dominic exhaled slowly. "So he was right."
"Yes." Cor's voice was heavy. "And that's the problem."
---
He turned away, looking out the window. The barrier shimmered faintly above the city, reflecting streaks of silver light.
"Dominic," he said quietly, "your son shouldn't know this. Not even by accident. Either he's being guided… or something far older is stirring in him."
Dominic's chest tightened. "You think he's dangerous?"
Cor shook his head. "No. Not yet. But if he's drawing knowledge from somewhere beyond human reach — that's not just intuition. That's interference."
"From what?"
Cor didn't answer immediately. He just stared at the skyline. "The Astrals have strange ways of choosing their messengers."
Dominic's eyes widened. "You think he's chosen?"
"I think," Cor said carefully, "that your son is being watched."
The words hung in the air like a blade between them.
---
They stood in silence for a long moment.
Finally, Dominic said, "What do we do?"
Cor folded the map again, sealing it back in the case. "We keep it quiet. No one else can know about this — not the Crownsguard, not the ministers. Not even Regis."
Dominic blinked. "Not the King?"
Cor's tone was sharp. "Especially not the King. The moment this kind of knowledge is exposed, the boy becomes a weapon, not a person."
Dominic's jaw clenched. "He's already being pushed too hard."
"I know." Cor sighed. "But we can't stop his growth now. Whatever he's becoming… the kingdom will need it."
"Even if it kills him?"
Cor looked at him, eyes dark. "Then we make sure it doesn't."
---
That night, Dominic returned home with a silence heavier than armor.
Lyla greeted him at the door, smiling faintly. "You're late."
He kissed her cheek gently. "Long day."
Sirius was in the living room, polishing his katana. He glanced up. "You talked to Uncle Cor."
Dominic nodded. "We did."
"What did he say?"
Dominic hesitated, then forced a small smile. "He said your map's impressive."
Sirius studied him carefully, sensing the weight behind the words. But he didn't press. He simply nodded. "Good."
Dominic walked over and ruffled his hair — something he hadn't done in years. "Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"If you ever feel like something's pulling you — something you can't explain — tell me or Cor. Don't face it alone."
Sirius blinked, then nodded slowly. "I promise."
Dominic smiled faintly. "Good. Now get some rest. Tomorrow's another day."
Sirius nodded again, sheathing his katana. "Goodnight, Dad."
When he disappeared into his room, Dominic stood alone for a long moment, the faint hum of the barrier filling the silence.
He looked toward Lyla's closed door, then back at the map tucked inside his coat.
And for the first time, he felt something he hadn't felt in years — fear not of loss, but of destiny.