Kael lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the day replayed in his mind. He had dismissed his armor, sending the Greywolf Mantle back into his Soul Chamber with a faint shimmer of light. Now, wearing nothing but his undergarments, he sprawled back on the mattress, exhausted in a way that seemed to reach beyond his muscles and into his very spirit. The day had been long, and as the night started to press on, it left him alone with his thoughts.
His mind wandered back to the conversation he'd had with Elowen in the Rusty Lantern's dining area. The words echoed in his head as though they had only just been spoken.
"The Academy," she had said. It had sounded like a promise of opportunity, of a new path forward. But Kael wasn't sure if he could embrace it just yet. There was so much he didn't know—about the Tower, about the world, and especially about himself.
After their discussion, the rest of the day had played out in a more relaxed tone. He and Elowen had sat together for a late lunch, sharing a meal prepared by Maria. She called it "meat pie," but to Kael, it was like nothing he had ever tasted before. The flaky crust, the savory filling—it was a harmony of flavors that warmed him in a way that even the best cuts of meat he'd scavenged in the Grey Area with Elowen's help could never compare to. He devoured it gracefully, savoring each bite.
He had thanked Maria afterward, not only for the delicious meal but also for recommending the tailor's shop.
"You were right about Randal," he'd said with a grateful smile.
"The old man's grumpy, but he was a big help."
Maria had returned his smile with one of her own, a kind of knowing warmth that felt almost sisterly.
"You're welcome," she had replied.
"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
Her kindness was something Kael had not expected when he first came to Feysreach. He had anticipated danger and hostility, not acts of generosity from strangers. It was a new experience for him—a reminder that not everything in this world was cruel.
After finishing the meal, Kael said his goodbyes to Elowen and Maria, then made his way back to his room at the Rusty Lantern. With nothing else pressing on his mind other than his decision regarding his next steps, he decided to call it an early day and rest.
Now, lying on his back, the memories of the day fluttered across his thoughts like the pages of a book, flipping from one scene to the next. He recalled the hustle and bustle of the city—the strange smells that hung in the air from food stalls, the rhythmic hammering at the blacksmith's forge, and the array of people dressed in all manners of garb, some in armor that gleamed like polished silver and others in plain robes that seemed to blend into the background. Feysreach was like a world within a world, alive with possibilities.
Then, his thoughts turned darker, settling on the incident at the food stall. He remembered the vendor's bloodied face, the cruel laughter of the Fatewalkers who had beaten him down, and the helplessness that had gripped Kael as Elowen pulled him back into the crowd. At the time, he had felt an overwhelming sense of injustice, a need to make things right. But now, with the emotions dulled by the quiet of the night, something else simmered beneath the surface—a grim thought that made him shudder.
He cursed inwardly, recalling the bitterness in his heart as he had watched the ruffians walk away unpunished. It wasn't just anger that he had felt; it was hatred, a dark urge that had made him long to see those Fatewalkers suffer, even die. The realization frightened him, not just because of the intensity of the feeling, but because it had come so naturally, as though it were a part of him. A part of him that he hadn't known existed.
Kael frowned, trying to make sense of it. Was it wrong to wish for their deaths? His mind wanted to tell him it was, but at the same time, he couldn't shake the sense that they had deserved it. After all, they had attacked an innocent man without cause—shouldn't there be consequences for actions like that? And yet, the thought of killing them himself made him uneasy. He hadn't even raised a weapon against them, and still, there was this darkness in his thoughts, as if his anger had a life of its own.
He sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room. Perhaps Elowen had been right; he was too green, too inexperienced to be dealing with situations like that. His sense of justice was still naïve and untempered by the complexities of the world. His experiences had shown him how little he truly knew about the way things worked here.
He thought back to what Elowen had said about politics—how not everything was as it seemed, and how being a hero wasn't always an option. Her words unsettled him, for they suggested a world where power, not righteousness, dictated what was right or wrong. Kael had no such power, no authority to speak of. All he had was the will to survive and the desire to grow stronger. He didn't even understand the broader implications of the House structures or the influence they wielded. He felt like a pawn in a game far more complicated than he could comprehend.
The name 'Argent Academy' came to mind again. It felt like an elusive promise, a place where he could gain the skills and knowledge that he so desperately needed. He didn't know much about the Academy, only that it was a training ground for Fatewalkers. But the idea of going there stirred something within him—a mix of excitement and fear. What would he learn? Who would he meet? And most importantly, would it be enough to help him find his place in this vast, chaotic world?
The thought of learning a breathing technique crossed his mind, and he wondered if such a thing would even be possible for someone like him. Elowen had told him that the Academy was the starting point for all Fatewalkers, that it offered not just training in combat, but a chance to forge one's own path. If that were true, then perhaps he could even discover or create a breathing technique of his own. It was an ambitious thought, maybe even foolish given how little he knew, but the possibility filled him with a faint spark of hope.
As Kael lay there, the questions, worries, and hopes blended together, drifting in and out of his consciousness. His eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, and the weight of the day began to pull him into a deep slumber. In his final waking moments, his mind wandered back to the feeling he'd had when he first saw the Greywolf Mantle. It was a small reminder that even in his darkest moments, there could be unexpected discoveries waiting just around the corner.
And maybe, just maybe, the Argent Academy would be one of those discoveries.
As he drifted off, his thoughts quieted, and sleep claimed him. For the first time in a long while, his dreams were not filled with nightmares of abominations from the trials or the chaos of the Grey Area. Instead, they were filled with visions of a grand fortress, gleaming in the light, standing tall on the horizon. The Academy, a place where fate could be shaped and rewritten, where someone like him could find the answers he sought.
Kael's breathing slowed, his body sinking deeper into the mattress.
Whatever awaited him in the coming days, he was ready to take the first step toward it.