The walk back home felt endless to Kayn. The streets that normally seemed warm and full of life now appeared gray and desolate. Laughter and conversations around him felt like distant echoes. His argument with Burst kept replaying in his mind, filling him with guilt. He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at his friend like that, but frustration had clouded his judgment.

Finally, he reached the entrance to his house. Inside, the silence was palpable. His parents hadn’t returned yet, something he was grateful for. He needed to be alone right now.

As he made his way toward the stairs, his gaze briefly lingered on the portrait of his grandfather. He didn’t want to face it, didn’t want to tell him he had failed.

He climbed the stairs heavily, heading straight to his room. Once inside, he kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed, sinking into the mattress. A long, pent-up sigh escaped his lips. Deep down, he wanted to cry, but he knew it wouldn’t change anything.

He stared at the ceiling, its wooden beams forming familiar patterns. He remembered how, the night before, he had been lying in the exact same position, too nervous to sleep. Hours had been spent imagining what his guardian would be like, its form, its abilities. How naive he had been.

Reality had struck him cruelly, and he still refused to believe it. It felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, waiting to wake up and start over.

He imagined the day unfolding differently: waking up in the morning to his mother’s delicious breakfast, showering, and putting on his favorite hoodie. Before leaving, he’d say goodbye to his grandfather’s portrait with a confident smile. On the way to the central plaza, he’d meet Burst and Lyra, and they’d talk excitedly. When his turn came at the ceremony, he’d summon the perfect guardian, leaving everyone in awe. His parents would beam with pride. It would have been perfect…

A bitter, broken laugh escaped his throat, full of pain. It felt like something precious had been stolen from him—his most cherished dream. He closed his eyes, allowing darkness to envelop him. Perhaps sleep was the best escape. If he let time pass, he wouldn’t have to face anything. He wouldn’t have to talk to his parents, his friends, or even say goodbye. By tomorrow, it would all be over.

Just as sleep began to take hold, a gentle knock sounded at the door.

“Kayn, can I come in?” his mother’s voice asked softly from the other side.

Kayn exhaled deeply. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? All he wanted was for this miserable day to end. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

He didn’t respond, instead burying his face in the pillow, silently hoping she’d go away. But the door opened slowly, and Thalia stepped inside, closing it behind her with a soft sigh.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, approaching the bed cautiously.

“Fine, I guess,” he muttered listlessly, not even looking at her. He turned to face the wall, avoiding her gaze.

Thalia sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes filled with concern as she studied her son.

“Kayn, I know it’s hard to accept this, but sulking won’t help.”

“And how am I supposed to feel?” he shot back, clenching his fists under the blanket.

“Don’t turn this into a drama. You knew this could happen. Just because your father succeeded doesn’t mean you would. The bond depends on the soul, not blood.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t make it any less unfair,” he protested. “Burst and Lyra managed to do it. Now I can’t go to the academy with them. They’re leaving tonight, and I’ll be stuck here alone.”

“You’re not the only one who failed the ceremony. I failed too. A guardian appeared for me, but I wasn’t strong enough to be accepted.”

“See?” Kayn exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. “At least a guardian appeared for you! None of them wanted to bond with me. It’s not fair! What do they have that I don’t?”

“I was excited about having a guardian too, but…”

“What would you know?!” he shouted, his voice louder than he intended. Even he was startled by it. Thalia flinched, staring at him with wide eyes, seemingly on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Thalia stood up, her expression shadowed. Kayn watched her with regret. It wasn’t her fault; she was only trying to help. He understood how difficult it must have been for her to see him like this, and yet he had yelled at her.

At the door, Thalia paused, her hand on the handle. She turned to look at him one last time.

“Sorry for bothering you,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s normal for you to feel this way.”

With that, she left the room, leaving Kayn sitting on the bed, guilt weighing heavily on him. He flopped back onto the mattress, his body bouncing slightly.

“I’m the worst,” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling and covering his eyes with his arm. He’d already fought with two people since failing the test.

Time slipped by unnoticed—minutes, maybe hours—until the creak of the door announced someone else entering. This time, it was his father, dressed in the pristine uniform of the royal guard. Normally, he only wore it for training, which made Kayn dread what was coming. The uniform was adorned with delicate gold accents tracing the high collar, cuffs, and hem. A black leather belt with a gold buckle secured the outfit, with a wooden sword hanging from it.

“Hey, champ. How’s the whole failing thing going?”

The question was blunt and a little harsh. Sometimes Kayn wished his father could be a bit more… subtle. He was reliable, but tact wasn’t his strong suit.

“I’m not in the mood,” Kayn replied, turning his face away. “Please close the door on your way out.”

But Galen didn’t listen. Instead, he walked in, leaving the door wide open behind him.

“Your mother seemed pretty upset,” Galen commented, crossing his arms. “You didn’t have to talk to her like that. She was just trying to cheer you up. She wanted you to go to the academy as much as you did.”

Kayn lowered his gaze, ashamed. The image of his mother’s hurt face flashed through his mind.

“I’m sorry. I was just… really upset,” he admitted, watching as his father held up the wooden sword in his hand.

“Come on, let’s train a bit. It’ll help you forget your spectacular failure,” Galen said, earning a frosty glare from his son at the remark.

Kayn buried his head in his pillow, signaling his lack of interest. However, Galen wasn’t one to take no for an answer. Without warning, he grabbed Kayn and hoisted him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey! Put me down!” Kayn shouted, flailing and kicking the air in a futile attempt to free himself. But his father’s strength far exceeded his own.