Chapter 11 – Nightmare

  The Skydrid estate was alive with celebration. From one wing of the sprawling mansion to the next, the air buzzed with excited chatter, echoing footsteps, and the clinking of porcelain cups and crystal glasses.

  Servants hurried through the halls with practiced grace, guiding guests toward lounges and dining rooms while subtly ensuring that nothing fell out of place. Carriages bearing the crests of old houses continued to arrive at the front gates in a seemingly endless stream, their polished wheels crunching softly over gravel, each one carrying nobles wrapped in silk and velvet, their arms heavy with gifts ranging from ancient scrolls to enchanted ornaments.

  Even the lesser families, those whose names weren’t etched in history but still held sway in the capital had sent representatives, eager to witness the occasion or at least be remembered as present.

  The cause for all this commotion? Lucas Skydrid, the fourth son of Lord Jeremiah Skydrid and Lady Hera, had awakened a Grade 1 aspect the day before.

  Word of it had spread across Eterna like wildfire, leaping from noble estate to noble estate, whispered in the halls of academies and shouted across the plazas. The Skydrid name, already steeped in respect and power, now burned even brighter and every house that hoped to remain politically relevant had taken notice.

  And yet, far from the grand halls and gathered nobles, Lucas himself, twelve years old, lean with the kind of wiry strength that came from discipline, not indulgence was holed up in a quiet side room with his younger brother.

  Jacob, at eight, was much smaller, thin in a frail sort of way, with messy black hair and glasses that kept sliding down his nose no matter how often he pushed them back up. His eyes were sharp, curious, always flicking around as though looking for answers no one else had thought to seek.

  Lucas stood proudly at the center of the room, holding up a dark-blue book embossed with pale runes that shimmered faintly in the afternoon light. “Jacob,” he said with a grin, “this is it. My handbook.”

  Jacob blinked up at the book, drawn to it almost instinctively. There was something about it that demanded attention, not just because of how it looked, but because of what it represented.

  The runes seemed alive, or at least aware, and the presence of the book seemed to charge the air itself. “What does ‘One with Runes’ mean?” Jacob asked, his hand reaching out hesitantly as if touching it might answer the question for him.

  Before Jacob’s fingers could make contact, Lucas pulled the book away with a mischievous smirk. “It means,” he said slowly, “that I can engrave an infinite number of runes into my inner world. Limitless growth, limitless combinations. No one else can do what I can.”

  Jacob’s brow furrowed, trying to imagine what that really meant. “So… it lets you do something that no one else in the world can do?” he asked.

  Lucas chuckled and nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Damn, Lucas, that’s amazing,” Jacob breathed, his voice full of awe and something else, longing, maybe, though he didn’t quite realize it himself.

  Lucas grinned wider, clearly enjoying the praise, but then tilted his head slightly and said, “Don’t look at me like that, Jacob. I’m sure your aspect will be even better.”

  For a second, Jacob smiled but then his gaze fell to the side, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m going to be a knight… so I won’t get an aspect. Don’t forget what kind of family we are.”

  Lucas gave him a lopsided smile, half amusement, half pity. “You say that,” he said, crouching down until they were eye level, “but I see the books you read at night. All about runes. You hide them under your pillow.”

  Jacob huffed and crossed his arms. “A knight must understand his enemies. That’s what Teacher Raphael says. To fight mages, you have to understand magic. To understand magic, you have to study runes.”

  Lucas reached out and pinched Jacob’s cheeks, tugging them until his brother squirmed in protest. “You little brat! Quoting Teacher Raphael to me now?”

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  Jacob tried to pull away, grinning despite himself. “Stop it! Let go!”

  But Lucas wasn’t finished. “I have the perfect punishment for you,” he declared, and without warning, launched a relentless tickle attack that had Jacob squealing and thrashing, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

  “Hahaha! Wait! Lucas, stop! Hahaha please!”

  Eventually, in a desperate bid for freedom, Jacob shoved Lucas sideways. They both toppled to the ground in a tangled heap, limbs flailing and laughter echoing around the room. For a few seconds, they just lay there, grinning and catching their breath.

  Then came the sound of measured, heavy footsteps, followed by the creak of the door.

  “I knew I’d find you here, young master Lucas. The lord is looking for you,” said Merwin, Lucas’s old retainer and protector. He had a neatly trimmed grey beard, sharp eyes softened by age, and a voice that always seemed calm, no matter the circumstance.

  Lucas groaned softly, then climbed to his feet. “Alright, I’m coming.” He brushed dust off his pants and turned toward the door. Then he glanced back, extended a hand, and asked, “Aren’t you coming?”

  Jacob didn’t hesitate. He leapt to his feet, grabbed his brother’s hand, and together, they followed Merwin and the silent Belemir, another of the estate’s quiet shadows, out into the corridor.

  They made their way through the manor with ease, familiar with every twist and turn, trading jokes as they walked. The marble floors beneath their feet were polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the chandeliers that hung like constellations from above.

  As they passed by windows, Jacob could glimpse the wide courtyard below, where carriages waited in neat lines and nobles chatted in circles, oblivious to the conversation unfolding upstairs.

  When they reached the door to their father’s quarters, Lucas didn’t pause to knock he pushed the door open and strode inside without hesitation. Inside were their parents: Jeremiah Skydrid, a broad-shouldered man with a stern jaw and tired eyes, and Hera, their mother, whose beauty always struck Jacob as unfair somehow, too radiant to belong in the same world as tax ledgers and battlefields.

  “Mom! Dad! You were looking for me?” Lucas said with a grin, running up to them.

  Hera smiled and scooped Jacob up into her lap without missing a beat. “We wanted to talk about your summary to the Sorcerer Association,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “You can’t just reveal everything about your aspect. Some parts must remain hidden.”

  “But isn’t that lying?” Jacob asked, blinking up at her. “Castor says lying is bad.”

  Hera’s smile tightened slightly as she pinched his cheek. “What’s that prince teaching you now?”

  Jeremiah spoke then, his voice low and steady. “He’s right lying is bad. And when you’re among others, you should refer to the prince by title, no matter how close you are.”

  Jacob nodded solemnly. He and the fifth prince, Castor, had been close for years, an unlikely friendship, but a strong one.

  Jeremiah continued, “That said, lying is sometimes necessary. To protect yourself, to protect your family. But never lie to your blood.”

  It wasn’t quite what he believed, reality was more complicated, and he knew it but for a child, the simplified truth would suffice.

  “I’ll never lie to you, Dad,” Jacob said quietly, his voice filled with certainty. “On my honor as a future knight.”

  That brought a rare smile to Jeremiah’s face.

  “So… what should I put in my aspect summary?” Lucas asked, turning to Hera.

  She reached out to ruffle his hair. “You don’t have to. I’ll handle it.”

  Lucas breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mom. I really didn’t want to write that.”

  Hera chuckled. “That’s all we wanted to say.”

  Lucas stood, bowed to both parents, then tugged Jacob to his feet. “Come on. Where to next?”

  Jacob thought for a moment. “Let’s visit Jessica.”

  Lucas grinned. “Good idea. Let’s check on her.”

  They hurried down the hall, arriving at their sister’s room in minutes. Lucas flung the door open. “Jessica! We’re here to play!”

  Two pillows flew through the air in response. Lucas ducked the first one, but Jacob wasn’t so lucky he took it straight to the face.

  “Ow,” Jacob muttered, rubbing his nose.

  Jessica approached with a smile. “You didn’t knock,” she said, unbothered.

  Lucas laughed and stepped inside. “Something’s changed here,” he noted. “Right, Jacob?”

  Jacob peered around, noticing the new stuffed animals. “Yeah… even more teddies.”

  “Where’d you get the money for all this?” Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Jessica turned away with a giggle. “They were a gift.”

  “From who?” Jacob asked.

  “Alex sent them.”

  Lucas gasped dramatically. “That bastard! He never buys me anything! This is favoritism!”

  “He bought me books last week,” Jacob murmured.

  Lucas rounded on him, betrayed. “He did? And not me? Greedy bastard.”

  Jacob tugged at his sleeve. “Alex said your gift would take a while to finish.”

  Lucas calmed immediately. “Well… alright. I’ll wait, then.”

  They stayed in Jessica’s room for hours, talking and laughing as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Eventually, Jacob glanced at the clock and stood in alarm. “Oh no. I was supposed to meet Castor and Elly. I’m late!”

  He ran for the stairs, calling back, “Belemir, have the carriage ready for the palace!”

  From his dream, Jacob pounded against an invisible wall, his voice hoarse with desperation. “No don’t go, don’t go there today! That’s the worst thing you could do. You’ll kill Lucas.”

  He watched the scene play out with helpless eyes, knowing that five years from now, he would come to hate this day more than any other.

  Because it had started with laughter.

  And ended in silence.