“What the hell just happened here?” Mr. Joseph asked, eyes darting from the shattered stones to the boy in shock.

“I… I don’t know, Uncle. I was just—”

Joseph’s voice cut him off. “Your hand. You're bleeding!”

Kael followed his uncle’s gaze—and froze.

His right arm hung limp, grotesquely swollen, the skin over his knuckles shredded as if it had collided with solid rock.

“My arm… it was fine just a minute ago—”

Before the words could leave his lips, darkness overtook him.

He collapsed.

…

“Ugh…”

Kael stirred, his hand pressed to his forehead.

“My head… it hurts,” he groaned.

“How are you feeling?” a calm voice asked from beside him.

Kael turned his head. His father was sitting near the bed, flipping through a book.

As Kael's senses returned, he realized he was in his room. His right arm was tightly bound in plaster and bandages, resting on his chest.

He slowly tried to sit up.

“No need to sit up,” Elandor said without looking up. “You will make it even worse.”

“My head hurts… and my hand…”

“You broke your arm. Three fractures,” Elandor said, finally closing the book and looking directly at him.

With a cold voice Elandor spoke, “Explain— what is going on?”

Kael flinched. His memory returned in flashes.

“I… I don’t know exactly,” he lied. “I was walking through the garden… touched the fountain… and it suddenly collapsed. And then… I woke up here.”

Elandor just stared at him, silent.

Then, he lifted the book in his hand.

“So… what is this I’m reading?”

Kael glanced at it—and froze.

It was the Maha Tantra. The very book he had been reading before he lost consciousness.

“T-that’s… a book,” he mumbled.

Elandor’s gaze sharpened.

“You think I don’t know that? ” Elandor said, annoyed. “I taught you how to read before you could hold a spoon.”

“No, I mean—”

“I knew you brought something back from your journey. You didn’t tell me, so I didn’t press. But I didn’t imagine you had an ancient Tantra text stuffed in your bag.”

He stood and placed the book on the nearby table and stepped closer, casting a shadow across his son’s bed.

“You know Tantra isn’t something just anyone can possess. And keeping a text like this without the Council’s knowledge…. is criminal?” His voice dropped. “It’s restricted. Illicit. Do you understand how serious this is?”

Kael’s lips trembled as his father’s words struck him like a blade.

“Forgive me, Father… I didn’t mean to cause such a ruckus.” , Kael said in desperation.

“Tell me how you came to possess that book?”

Kael hesitated, collecting his thoughts.

In that moment, Elandor seemed to him like the very God of Karma, standing in judgment, weighing his soul.

“I got it from an old man in Valemire…”

Elandor’s eyes narrowed.

“What old man?”

Kael exhaled.

“After Captain Segeford returned from Veilguard, he was gravely wounded. He couldn’t have survived the trip back to Valemoor or Valemire. We needed help—someone who could bind souls…”

He looked at his father, searching for understanding.

“So this man gave you the book?” Elandor asked.

Kael nodded.

“Yes.”

“He just gave it to you?”

Kael hesitated again. “Something like that…”

Elandor’s patience snapped.

“Do not get on my nerves, Kael. Speak the truth.”

His presence filled the room with an almost suffocating weight. His calm was gone—what remained was anger barely restrained.

“I am speaking the truth, Father!” Kael raised his voice. “He gave me the book… he taught me a meditation technique… He wanted me to become his disciple.”

It wasn’t just defiance—it was desperation. The kind all humans show when cornered, when truth becomes too heavy, too dangerous to voice plainly.

But Kael had another reason for withholding everything.

The truth… was too naked, too devastating for anyone unprepared.

Elandor didn’t reply right away. He stared at Kael, then turned and walked to the window.

He stood there silently… and finally spoke in a quieter, colder voice.

“I don’t care what connection you had—or have—with the man you speak of. But you cannot just possess a Tantra text. Not without the permission.”

His voice was firm now. Unemotional.

“You’ll need approval from the Council. They will decide whether you keep it and return … or just rot behind bars.”

He turned to face Kael again. The wind flowed in from the open window, brushing through the silence between them.

“You’ll go to Caer’Seren, the capital. There, you’ll be judged.”

Elandor’s voice was final now.

“Leave tomorrow. It will take two months to get there. Recover on the way… and for your mother’s sake—don’t be found guilty.”

With that, he stepped toward the door.

Kael remained still as his father left, the door shutting with a soft but absolute thud.

Kael grabbed his head, his heart pounding.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into…”