The soft hum of morning activity filled the imperial palace. Adrian, Cassandra, and Malcolm walked briskly through the east wing corridors. Outside Liam's quarters, they found Edwin, standing as composed as ever.
"Edwin," Cassandra began, her brow furrowed in concern. "Where's Liam?"
"We need to have a word with him," Adrian added, his tone firm and impatient.
Malcolm, standing slightly behind, crossed his arms. "I'll bet he's still asleep," he muttered.
Edwin's face remained impassive as he gestured toward the closed door. "Master Liam is currently—"
"I'll talk some sense into him," Adrian interrupted, determination flashing in his eyes. "We're all leaving the imperial palace today. He needs to accept a barony."
Malcolm stepped forward, placing a hand on Adrian's shoulder. "He's not a child anymore, Adrian. Maybe let him handle it his way."
Adrian shrugged off the hand, his eyes narrowing. "And if you tried to pull the same thing, I'd be there talking sense into you too."
"Stop it, both of you," Cassandra interjected, her voice a mix of exasperation and concern. "This isn't helping."
Before they could continue their argument, Edwin raised a hand to signal silence. "Master Liam is not in his room," he said calmly.
"What?" Cassandra exclaimed.
"Then where is he?" Malcolm asked, his brows knitting together.
As if on cue, a voice called from behind them. "Here."
They turned in unison to see Liam approaching, his steps sluggish and his appearance disheveled. His dark hair was tousled, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and there were faint shadows under his eyes.
"Liam!" Cassandra rushed to him. "Where were—uh, what happened to you?"
Adrian and Malcolm exchanged curious glances before looking back at their younger brother.
"I was at the Arcanum," Liam mumbled, his words slurring slightly as if he were barely awake. "In the restricted section."
Adrian scoffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, right."
"It's the truth," Liam said, stifling a yawn.
Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "The restricted section? You do know it's restricted for a reason, right?"
Liam gave him a tired look, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate golden pass. "Well, why should I care? I can walk there right now if I want."
The siblings stared at the pass in stunned silence.
"Anyway," Liam continued, rubbing his eyes, "I'm really sleepy right now. Goodnight."
"Goodnight?" Malcolm repeated incredulously. "It's breakfast time!"
But Liam had already shuffled into his room, leaving the others standing there, dumbfounded. Edwin quietly closed the door behind him.
Adrian, Malcolm, and Cassandra exchanged bewildered looks before rushing to the door.
"Edwin, open it," Adrian demanded.
Edwin stood firm, his expression unwavering. "Master Liam has requested to rest. I suggest—"
"Edwin," Cassandra pleaded, "just ask him. Surely he wouldn't keep us out here."
With a sigh, Edwin knocked softly on the door. "Master Liam, may I enter?"
From inside came a muffled, "Yeah, whatever," followed by a faint yawn.
Edwin pushed the door open, stepping aside to let the siblings in.
Inside, Liam was already sprawled across his bed, one arm thrown over his face to block out the light. The golden pass glinted on his bedside table, a silent proof to his earlier claim.
"Liam," Adrian began, stepping forward.
"Yes, brother?" Liam replied, his voice muffled but steady, his arm still draped over his face.
Adrian hesitated, trying to shake off the disbelief of Liam holding a pass to the restricted section. "I want you to accept a barony," he finally said, his tone firm but measured.
Cassandra stepped closer, her voice gentle yet persuasive. "Liam, Adrian is right. It would be beneficial for you. A barony is an excellent start for someone your age."
Before Liam could respond, Malcolm interjected, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Hold on. How in the world did you get that pass?"
Liam sighed audibly and, with a lazy wave of Telekinesis. Several windows creaked shut, and the curtains drew together, leaving only one open to let in a faint streak of light. He let his arm fall to his side, still sprawled across the bed, and replied sluggishly, "Brother, I'm not going to accept a barony—and that's how I got the pass."
Adrian blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean you're not accepting a barony? And how is that related to the pass?"
Liam sat up slowly, his eyes still closed as if the effort of answering was too much. "I visited Father last night," he began, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "I told him I wasn't going to change my mind. And as acceptance of my decision, he gave me the pass to the restricted section."
Reaching for the golden pass on his bedside table, Liam held it for a moment before clutching it close to his chest. He lay back down, pulling the edge of his shirt over it like a makeshift blanket.
"You'll all get yours when Brother Adrian becomes king," he continued, his voice clear like stating a fact. "No access until coronation — I just found out last night."
"Wait, what? Then how come you—" Cassandra began, her voice tinged with confusion.
Liam yawned, cutting her off. "Yeah, sister, only six siblings have one — those who have no right to the throne."
The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of his statement sinking in.
Cassandra stepped forward. "Liam, are you sure you want to do this? You could learn so much about the kingdom. No golden pass can teach you what real leadership will."
Adrian crossed his arms. "She's right. I'll talk to Father about this. You can start from today, and you've got eight years to grow into it."
But Liam only shook his head, his voice resolute despite his sleepy tone. "No, brother. I've made my resolve. Now I ask you to respect it."
He paused, a faint trace of frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm already thirteen and still a Ninth Blaze Initiate. I have no use for a barony when I can barely get my magic under control."
The siblings exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to respond. Liam, however, seemed content to let the conversation end there. He shifted slightly under the covers, his breathing slowing as he began to drift off.
Adrian opened his mouth to say something but stopped, shaking his head. Cassandra gently touched his arm, and Malcolm gave a small shrug.
"Let him sleep," Cassandra whispered, her voice laced with both concern and resignation.
Liam stirred slightly, opening one eye to glance toward the door. "Edwin," he called softly.
The butler, who had been standing quietly by the side, approached promptly. "Yes, Master Liam?"
"I'm sorry," Liam said, his voice low but sincere. "I know I said I'd dine with everyone from last night, but I'll miss today as well. Please inform the kitchen."
"Of course, Master Liam," Edwin replied with a small bow.
Liam hesitated for a moment before asking, "When does Father leave?"
"In an hour, Master Liam," Edwin said.
Liam nodded sluggishly. "Thanks, Edwin." Without another word, he curtained the remaining light, he sank deeper into the bed, his breathing already evening out as sleep reclaimed him.
Edwin turned to the remaining siblings and inclined his head. Silently, they all left the room, the door closing softly behind them.
Outside the doors, Adrian sighed. "If that's what he wishes…"
Cassandra placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Now you've got to work hard, Adrian. Liam's counting on you to become the next king. He's made his choice, and he trusts you."
Malcolm smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "Yeah, Adrian. I'm just here for the experience. If you're not the king, who's going to have my back when I need a little chump change from the royal treasury?"
Adrian's expression darkened as he turned to Malcolm, delivering a light but firm slap to the back of his younger brother's head. "Idiot. Stop your silly bets and get serious."
Malcolm rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Come on, it's just a joke…"
Adrian shook his head, his tone stern. "Do I look like I care whether I become king or not? Only the rightful heir will sit on the throne. I don't mind who it is, but I'll say this much—I certainly don't pray for a house change."
Cassandra smiled softly, watching the exchange. Despite their bickering.
"Well," she said, "let's make sure everything is ready before Father departs. Liam's made his decision. It's up to us now."
Adrian nodded, his resolve firm. "Let's go."
Inside Liam's room, the golden pass lay clutched to his chest as his slow, rhythmic breathing filled the still air. Though asleep, his senses stirred faintly, detecting a soft hum of mana swirling nearby. Unlike before, when such sensations brought on piercing headaches, this time it felt soothing—like a river flowing in harmony with his body.
As he drifted deeper into sleep, his mind slipped into a dream. He found himself atop a windswept mountaintop, where the skies were clear above. Before him stood Graham, older and more weathered than in Liam's earlier dreams. His presence carried quiet confidence.
A disembodied voice, deep and laced with arrogance, echoed across the mountaintop.
"You? A better mage, sure. But a swordsman? Dream on."
Graham didn't flinch, his expression calm as he turned slightly toward the voice. "You're simply too arrogant," he replied evenly.
The voice chuckled, its tone mocking. "Arrogant? Or realistic? You may have mastered mana, but the blade requires something beyond your reach."
"Is that what you think?" Graham asked, his tone sharp. "The sword is no less an extension of one's will than magic. I've spent decades refining my craft."
"And yet you think you can match me? Let alone surpass me? A swordsman of my caliber doesn't need the likes of you to 'enhance' anything."
Graham sighed, shaking his head. "You refuse to see the bigger picture. I'm not here to replace you—I'm here to make us stronger, together. I can hone your swordsmanship to levels even you can't imagine."
The voice sneered. "Strong words. But words alone don't make a warrior."
"Then how can I prove it to you?" Graham asked, his gaze steady.
The voice fell silent for a moment, as though considering. Then, it replied with a hint of amusement. "How about this — defend a strike from me. With a sword."
Graham raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
"That's it," the voice said, its tone dripping with confidence.
After a brief pause, Graham nodded. "Fine."
The voice let out a haughty laugh. "You've got to be kidding me. You? Defend against me? This will be over before it starts."
A sword materialized from one of the voice's many sheaths, spinning through the air before landing at Graham's feet. "On the count of three," the voice declared.
Graham bent down to pick up the blade but raised a hand. "Wait."
"Now what?" the voice snapped impatiently. "Scared already?"
"No," Graham said calmly, inspecting the sword. "But let's make this fair. We're in the same realm, and I'll not be using any artifacts. Agreed?"
The voice growled, its arrogance flaring into irritation. "You — I don't need to lower myself to — ON THE COUNT OF THREE!"
Graham smirked, taking a firm stance with the blade in hand.
"One… two… three!"
The voice moved with blinding speed, its sword flashing through the air with a ferocious strike. But Graham's blade met it in time, deflecting the attack with a resounding clash of steel.
The voice recoiled slightly, its tone rising in anger. "Hmph. Beginner's luck!" It struck again, its blade a blur of rage. But this time, Graham stepped into the attack, cleaving through the weapon with a single, precise motion.
The shattered blade flew from the voice's grip as it stumbled back. Shock filled its tone as it asked, "How?"
Graham smiled faintly, resting his sword against his shoulder. "I know you're one of the greatest swordsmen in existence. But with me by your side, you'll become the greatest swordsman."
The voice bristled. "I'm asking you a question!"
Graham chuckled, lowering the blade. "Oh, that? Mana allows you to bend the rules of nature. But have you ever wondered what those rules truly are? What are the forces that nature has set in to shape the world around us?"
The voice hesitated, its silence betraying its uncertainty.
"What if, instead of challenging nature—the very heavens that gave birth to us—we Ascendants learned to live in harmony with it?" Graham's gaze softened as he stepped forward. "That's the secret. Not defiance, but unity."
The voice remained quiet, the weight of Graham's words settling like the stillness after a storm. In Liam's dream, the mountaintop faded into nothingness, leaving only the echoes of Graham's wisdom reverberating in his mind.