Kael awoke with the first rays of dawn streaming through the small window in his quarters. The faint hum of the manor stirring to life reached his ears, a blend of distant voices and clinking metal. He sat up on his modest cot, stretched his arms, and went about his usual morning routine. It was almost mechanical at this point—a series of movements meant to keep his mind and body occupied. Washing his face with the chilled water from the basin, brushing back his hair, and straightening his simple clothes gave him some semblance of normalcy.
As he stepped outside his room, the vastness of the manor loomed around him. The corridors stretched endlessly, lined with ornate tapestries and polished wooden panels. Though his fragmented memories whispered that he had been here before, they provided no clear guidance. He wasn't certain where the library was, so he resolved to explore.
Walking aimlessly, Kael found himself in the quieter wings of the estate. This area was away from the hustle of the main residence, which suited him fine. Servants scurried past him but paid him little heed, likely mistaking him for one of their own due to his modest appearance.
The sound of clashing metal and shouted commands drew him outside, where he stumbled upon the training grounds. It was a lively scene, bustling with energy and purpose. Knights and trainees were scattered across the field, honing their skills. Some practiced their drills, stepping in synchronized movements, while others trained with swords, their strikes aimed at wooden dummies or sparring partners.
Kael's gaze was drawn to one particular scene—a man in the center of a group of trainees. Thorne, the captain of the knights, stood tall and imposing, wielding a wooden sword as he faced off against multiple trainees. His movements were sharp and precise, each parry and counter executed with minimal effort but maximum impact. The trainees attacked him from all sides, yet he deflected their strikes with an ease that spoke of years of experience.
Kael froze as the sight triggered a flicker of memory.
The training grounds dissolved, replaced by a field of golden light. Angels stood in formation, their radiant wings stretching out in perfect symmetry, reflecting a divine glow. Their armor shimmered with celestial runes, each piece forged to perfection. Their swords gleamed like pure starlight, crackling faintly with divine energy. Kael was among them, gripping a longsword in one gauntleted hand. His own wings, majestic and imposing, arched high behind him, each feather exuding power.
Angels rushed at him. Their faces were familiar—comrades once, now adversaries. They sought to subdue him, their movements disciplined yet cautious, as if they feared the very task. Kael's sword moved with precision, parrying their attacks and delivering counter-strikes that forced them back. Each swing of his blade was deliberate, heavy, and unyielding.
The vision shattered as abruptly as it had come. Kael was back in the training grounds, the clang of swords and shouts of trainees grounding him in the present. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shake off the lingering weight of the memory.
Walking toward a nearby sword rack, he picked up a practice sword. The weight of the blade in his hand felt oddly familiar, as if it belonged there. He turned it over, inspecting its edge with a critical eye.
'Should I wield a sword once again?' he wondered. The question lingered, heavy with implications. 'But life is peaceful now.'
His thoughts betrayed him, dragging up fragments of his past with Elowen—the heartache, the betrayal, the bitterness. Yet, to his surprise, he felt no tremor of fear or anguish. The Kael of old might have recoiled at the thought, but this Kael simply stared at the sword, lost in contemplation.
A firm hand clapped his shoulder, jolting him from his reverie.
"Ah, you're quite sturdy!" Thorne's voice boomed, accompanied by a hearty chuckle. The knight captain's presence was as commanding up close as it was on the training field. "You looking to join us?"
Kael turned to face him, his expression neutral but polite. "Not quite. Just… reminiscing."
Thorne tilted his head, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. The two exchanged a few words, with Thorne asking about Kael's background and why he was interested in the training grounds. Kael, ever careful with his words, deflected most of the questions with vague answers. He didn't want to reveal too much about himself—not yet.
Eventually, Kael asked for directions to the library. Thorne raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "You a servant here? Don't often see the likes of you asking about the library."
Kael only smiled faintly and thanked him for the directions before walking away, leaving the captain scratching his head.
***
The library was tucked away in a quieter corner of the estate. Its tall arched windows gleamed in the sunlight, casting soft patterns on the stone walls. Inside, rows upon rows of shelves stretched toward the high ceilings, filled with books of every size and color. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the windows. The scent of parchment and aged leather filled the room, a comforting aroma for anyone who sought knowledge.
Kael stepped cautiously into the space. There were no guards stationed outside, which surprised him. He wandered deeper, marveling at the sheer volume of knowledge housed within these walls.
"Hold it right there!"
The sharp voice startled him. He turned to see an older woman approaching, her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was stern but not unkind, her eyes scanning him with practiced scrutiny.
"This isn't a public library," she said, crossing her arms.
Kael dipped his head in apology. "I just wanted to read a few books. I'll leave quickly, I promise."
The woman, Maria, hesitated. She looked him over again, her expression softening slightly as recognition dawned on her.
"You're Helen's boy," she said quietly. "The one who… well, the one who had that incident."
Kael's lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded.
Maria sighed, glancing around as if to ensure no one else was watching. "Fine. But find a corner and keep to yourself. And no matter what, don't go to the first floor. That area's off-limits."
"Understood," Kael said, offering a small smile of gratitude.
With that, he was allowed to explore the ground floor. The world of knowledge was now open to him, and he dove into it eagerly.
***
In the garden of the Everglade manor's main residence, the air was fragrant with blooming flowers. The vibrant hues of roses, lilies, and violets painted the scene with a riot of colors. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the oak trees that lined the pathways, their shade offering respite from the sun's warmth.
In the center of the garden stood a white gazebo, its latticework entwined with climbing ivy. Inside, a beautiful woman with long black hair and deep brown eyes sat gracefully, a book resting in her hands. Her dress, ornate yet comfortable, shimmered faintly in the sunlight, its embroidery catching the light like tiny stars.
Beside her stood another woman, a stark contrast to her elegant surroundings. She wore black leather armor, practical and devoid of embellishments, save for a snowflake insignia on her chest. A sword hung at her hip, and her posture was as rigid as a statue's. Her sharp gaze swept over the garden, ever vigilant.
The seated woman finished the last page of her book, closing it with a satisfied sigh. She handed it to her guard, who accepted it wordlessly.
"I'll continue reading in the library," the madame said, rising from her seat with effortless grace. Her voice was soft but carried an undeniable authority.
The guard nodded, falling into step behind her as they made their way toward the library, leaving the tranquil garden behind.
The day continued to unfold, each character's path converging in subtle ways, as though the threads of fate were weaving a tapestry none of them could yet see.