Dalfrid Ramel

As Dahlia led the two boys away, I turned to confront Alfrid — the man I assumed the old one had sent.

“What is the meaning of this?” I demanded, my voice sharp with anger. “Why use such brutal methods on children?”

“It can’t be helped,” he replied calmly. “I needed to evaluate the candidates myself.”

“Opeur changed its acceptance procedures?” I shot back. “Is that why this wasn’t stated clearly in the invitation documents? It used to be that we chose which of our children to send. The other families won’t accept these conditions.”

I expected a reasonable response.

Instead, he looked at me with open disgust — as if he’d expected me to bow his head and say, As you wish, sir.

“We changed the procedure?” he said, now arrogantly calm. “Do you think we need your permission to change how we operate? From your words, does that mean you refuse to participate?”

I answered as politely as possible, despite the attitude of this young royal.
“Charta already negotiated its participation. If you change the terms, then we need to renegotiate. Don’t you agree?”

He looked surprised for a moment.
Does he not know that I know? He’s young, but still…

“And I thought Charta was one of our best partners,” he replied coolly. “You disappoint me, Lord Dalfrid. What are your conditions for accepting the new procedure, then?”

Well — that was a better direction for this conversation.

“Give me some time to speak with my people,” I said. “We’ll send you an official list of what we believe is fair.”

He nodded, then added, “That’s reasonable. But allow me this — I want to meet the royal family myself, so I can include their perspective in your negotiations. That’s the least I can do. And I apologize if I offended you. But Lord Dalfrid… I thought things would go smoothly, even without formalities, since Charta is protected by us in the first place. Just remember that.”

I nodded as he left the Ramel mansion.

I just hope things don’t turn ugly between him and the royal family. We don’t need more complications on top of everything else.

Simon Ramel

As Mother led us out of the room, the intense pressure coming from the blond man — and even from Father — finally faded enough for me to speak.

“What was that, Mom?” I asked, my voice still shaking. “Who was that man? Why was there so much tension between him and Dad? Are we okay?”

She didn’t answer right away as she walked, guiding us away from the room and straight toward the garden behind the mansion. After a moment, she said softly, “We’re okay, son. Your father will make it work.”

Then she exhaled and smiled at us. “You boys stay here. Play, train — just have fun.”

And with that, she turned and went back inside.

“Hey, Simon,” Bilric said quietly. “Is that man here for the Festival? If so, is he trying to evaluate us or something with his weird abilities?”

I turned toward him, almost forgetting he was there. Somehow, he’d resisted that pressure far better than I had.

“You’re looking at this way more positively than I am,” I said. “But yeah — you’re probably right. He must be here for the Festival. How did I miss that?”

Bilric glanced back toward the mansion and muttered, “Still… Father doesn’t look happy about it. It’s probably more than that.”

Then he turned to me, grabbed my hand, and said with a grin, “Doesn’t matter. Let’s keep training. Don’t forget — I’m your teacher now.”

I smiled, the pressure finally gone. “Yeah, you’re right. Let the elders do their job.”

Karl Benoit

Finally — a proper night’s sleep. The first good one I’d had in months. It did wonders for my soul.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for this aging body. No amount of sleep could fix that.

Today, though, the castle was unexpectedly noisy — which was rare for a place this gloomy.

“Mom! I want to shower today! How does the hot water work?” a loud feminine voice echoed from downstairs.

As expected, it was my granddaughter. She’d finally decided to come back home after months away.

Miriam didn’t answer her, so I did.

“I’ll prepare it for you — just stop yelling, Sophia,” I shouted as loudly as my old throat allowed.

“Grandpa? You’re here? Where have you been all these months?” she called back. “It’s boring having no company in this house!”

Then she appeared.

A perfect copy of her mother — except for the colors. Bright blue eyes, brunette hair, and a slightly thinner face.

“Ah, so you’ve finally decided to visit,” I said with a faint smile. “I thought I’d never see your face again.”

“Yeah, here and there,” she replied with mild annoyance. “You’re the one who disappeared.”

“Hey, Sophia… can you do me a favor?” I asked gently. “Do you still have contact with your brother? I want to reconnect. We need to — you understand, don’t you? Please.”

She looked at me with worry in her eyes. “I want that too,” she said quietly. “But it depends on what you’re about to say. What is it, Grandpa?”

“Thank you, dear,” I replied. “I just want to send him a message. Something simple. Let’s talk. Let’s make this right, Dries. Can you give him that for me, Sophia?”

She still looked uneasy, but nodded. “Yes… as you wish, Grandpa.”

Narrator

In a distant region, beneath a dark yet beautiful landscape where a river met the sea, rocky hills rose on both sides — stone at their bases, lush green at their peaks. Each hill bore structures that looked like castles, or perhaps ancient watchtowers.

But at the center stood the last one.

Perched above a towering waterfall, half-devoured by algae and time, loomed a massive, ancient building. It radiated a cold, unsettling presence.

Then a voice echoed from the depths of the waterfall and across the lake below.

“Lord Dries… I’ve got news for you.”