The escape was carried out that very night.
Vaelor had sent Gris to scout escape routes hours earlier. The bird reported guard patrols, blind spots in the walls, and a drainage passage leading outside the castle grounds. It wasn't glamorous, but it would work.
"The bodies." Lyria looked at the dead assassins with concern. "When they find them—"
"We have until dawn." Vaelor calculated. "Maybe less. We must move."
They packed the essentials: a change of clothes, some dried food Lyria had stored for emergencies, and the small pouch of coins the servant had saved over the years. It wasn't much, but it would have to suffice.
"My beasts will come with me." Vaelor felt the mice climbing up his legs into his pockets. Gris was already circling above the tower, watching. "They will be our eyes."
Lyria nodded. She had learned not to underestimate the value of those small creatures.
"I'm ready, young master."
"Then let's go."
◇ ◇ ◇
The drainage passage was exactly as unpleasant as it sounded.
Dirty water reached Vaelor's knees as they moved through the darkness. The smell was nauseating, a mix of waste and rot that made Lyria cough constantly. But they didn't complain. Freedom had a price, and they were willing to pay it.
"Turn right." Vaelor indicated, receiving information from one of his mice he had sent ahead. "There's a metal staircase leading to the surface."
"How can you see in this darkness?" Lyria asked, more out of curiosity than doubt.
"I don't see. My beasts see for me."
The staircase was rusty and creaked dangerously, but it held their weight. They emerged in a small grove outside the castle grounds, just where Gris had indicated.
The fresh night air hit Vaelor like a revelation. It was the first time in his life he breathed air not confined by stone walls.
'Freedom,' he thought, and the concept felt strangely familiar. 'Again.'
"Where to, young master?" Lyria's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Vaelor oriented his perception. To the north was the empire's capital, too dangerous. To the south, lands of other noble families likely to cooperate with the Ashfords. To the east, impassable mountains.
"West." He decided. "To the Borderlands."
"The border?" Lyria frowned. "But that's full of wild beasts and... and they say demons cross through sometimes."
"Exactly." Vaelor gave a faint smile beneath his mask. "Where there are beasts, there is opportunity. Where there is chaos, there is anonymity. No one will look for the Ashford's cursed heir in the middle of nowhere."
Lyria blinked at the un-noble language but said nothing.
"As you command, young master."
◇ ◇ ◇
The first days were brutal.
They traveled by night to avoid being seen, resting during the day in any shelter they found: caves, abandoned barns, even under fallen trees. Food ran out quickly, forcing them to rely on what Lyria could hunt or gather.
"You should eat more, young master." Lyria offered half of a poorly cooked squirrel. "You're growing, you need—"
"You need strength too." Vaelor refused the offer. "Split it evenly."
"But—"
"It's an order, Lyria."
The servant sighed but obeyed. She knew arguing with Vaelor was useless when he used that tone.
The nights were the worst. Without the warmth of the tower, the cold seeped to their bones. They huddled together out of necessity, sharing the little heat their bodies could generate.
"Young master." Lyria whispered one of those nights, when the icy wind howled through the trees. "May I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Why have you never feared me?"
Vaelor considered the question. It was something he himself had wondered many times.
"I don't know." He admitted. "For as long as I can remember, your presence has always felt... safe. As if I knew you from before."
"From before?"
"Before I was born." The words slipped out before he could stop them. They sounded absurd, but it was the closest truth he could articulate.
Lyria was silent for a moment.
"Sometimes." She finally said. "I feel the same. As if I had already lived this. As if you and I were... connected in some way I don't understand."
Vaelor didn't answer. But inside, a certainty solidified.
'It's no coincidence,' he thought. 'None of this is coincidence.'
◇ ◇ ◇
After two weeks of travel, they arrived at Mistbridge.
It was a small town on the edge of the Borderlands, named for the perpetual fog that enveloped it. The houses were old wood, and the inhabitants had faces weathered by hard lives. It wasn't a prosperous place, but it was exactly what Vaelor needed.
"No one here knows the Ashfords." He observed as they walked down the main street. Gris flew high, reporting no visible guards or soldiers. "We can go unnoticed."
"What will we do here, young master?"
"Find work. Save money. And when I have enough..." Vaelor pointed westward, where mountains rose like sleeping giants. "Go beyond. To the wild lands."
"The wild lands?" Lyria paled. "That's territory for rank C beasts at least. It's suicide."
"It's opportunity." Vaelor corrected. "Higher rank beasts mean stronger contracts. If I want to get strong, I need to take risks."
Lyria wanted to protest but saw the determination in Vaelor's stance and knew nothing would change his mind.
"At least let me accompany you when you go."
"Always, Lyria." Vaelor reached out and found her hand in the darkness of his blindness. "Always."
◇ ◇ ◇
They settled in a cheap inn on the outskirts of town.
The owner was a fat, suspicious man who charged them double upon seeing they were strangers. But he asked no questions about Vaelor's mask or why a ten-year-old traveled alone with a young servant. On the border, such questions could cost you your life.
"A room." He grunted as he handed them a rusty key. "No beasts allowed."
"My pets are quiet." Vaelor replied. "They won't cause trouble."
The innkeeper looked at him distrustfully but didn't insist.
That night, while Lyria slept, Vaelor sat by the window and sent Gris to explore the town. Through the bird's eyes, he observed life unfolding in the streets: merchants closing shops, drunks staggering home, border guards patrolling without much enthusiasm.
"This place will be our home for now," he thought. "But not forever."
Somewhere to the west, beyond the mountains, beasts roared in the night.
And Vaelor smiled.
His true training was about to begin.