The village head's study was a pretentious attempt at nobility, with its carved wooden panels and attempts at scholarly decoration.
Vale stood by the window, his battle-worn armour catching the afternoon light, as Jorgan entered the room with measured steps.
"You don't bow," Vale observed, though his tone held curiosity rather than rebuke. "Even now, knowing who I am."
Jorgan met the knight's gaze steadily. "Should a mountain bow to the wind that passes by?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Vale's weathered face. "You speak like him, you know. That same quiet arrogance that suggests the world should adjust to your presence, not the other way around." He moved away from the window, studying Jorgan with keen eyes. "But there's something else about you... something I can't quite place."
"Perhaps you're looking too hard for what you expect to see," Jorgan replied, his voice carrying the calm assurance of his newfound power.
Vale circled him slowly, his movements those of a master swordsman even in casual conversation. "Decades of serving as Lord Kaidren's shadow, watching his children grow. None of them... none of them carry his presence like you do. Yet you were raised here, in this tiny village, by a mother who holds no title or power."
"Does a pearl's worth change depending on the shell that houses it?" Jorgan's question carried a hint of challenge.
Vale stopped his circling, a short laugh escaping him. "By the gods, even your riddles mirror his. But no..." He leaned against the study's heavy desk. "Your mother's strength shows in you too. The quiet dignity she showed this morning – that's what kept you hidden all these years, isn't it?"
"My mother did what she had to do," Jorgan stated firmly, a subtle warning in his tone.
"Peace, boy," Vale raised a hand. "I've served House Kaidren long enough to know when secrets are best kept. But you..." He straightened, his bearing becoming more formal. "You present an interesting puzzle. The resemblance is undeniable, the bearing is there, but there's something else. Something in your eyes that speaks of knowledge beyond your years."
Jorgan allowed a small smile. "Perhaps I simply pay attention to the world around me."
"Like those strangers by the river?" Vale's eyes sharpened. "I saw your interest. You recognized something about them, didn't you?"
"Didn't we all? They're clearly not from any land we know."
Vale nodded slowly. "And yet you showed no surprise. No fear. Just... recognition."
"In my experience," Jorgan said carefully, "fear and surprise rarely help one understand a situation better."
"Experience?" Vale's eyebrow raised. "You speak of experience at eighteen?"
"Age and experience aren't always the same thing, Sir Vale." Jorgan met his gaze steadily. "Just as power and authority aren't always identical."
The knight was silent for a long moment, then laughed again, more heartily this time. "Oh, you are dangerous, aren't you? Not just the blood, not just the face, but that mind of yours..." He shook his head.
"Lord Kaidren will find you very interesting indeed."
"Will he?" Jorgan's voice remained neutral, but his eyes hardened slightly.
Vale caught the shift in tone. "Ah, there it is. You harbour some resentment toward your father."
"A father is more than blood and title," Jorgan replied.
"As a shadow knows its master well, surely you understand this?"
The knight's expression sobered. "Better than most. I have sent a word to my lord about what I found here."
He moved closer, lowering his voice. "I want to understand what I'm dealing with. What force of nature I've discovered in this backwater village."
Jorgan allowed his newly awakened power to ripple ever so slightly, just enough for Vale's trained senses to detect. "And what have you discovered so far?"
Vale's eyes widened fractionally – the first sign of genuine surprise he'd shown. "More questions than answers, if I'm honest. But tell me this: what do you want, Jorgan? Now that the truth is out, what path do you intend to walk?"
"The path I've always walked," Jorgan replied. "My own."
The knight studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I believe you. And I believe things are about to become very interesting in this quiet little corner of the world." He straightened, resuming his formal bearing.
As Jorgan turned to leave, Vale called out one last time: "Whatever you are, boy – and I suspect you're far more than you appear – remember that knowledge is as dangerous as any sword. Use it wisely."
Jorgan paused at the door, allowing himself a small smile. "As you say, Sir Vale. As you say."
Vale had personally written a letter and sent it to his lord. After doing so, he now talked with the kid and after the talk, he felt like he met the young lord once again.
Jorgan walked back to his home, his mother and grandmother waiting for him at the door, worried about him.
He walked to the door and his mother hugged him and checked if he was alright.
Three of them walked inside the house and his mother drilled him about what happened in the village head house.