Chapter 10: A Family Dinner

  The sound of someone in the hall broke the quiet of the room. Eldric was shocked by everyone's reactions. His wife moved to the boy with the intent to protect him, the young disciple moved into a combative stance, and the Master looked toward the boy to judge his reactions.

  His own laughter rang out, bringing them all out of their overreactions. The Master and his wife began to laugh as well. Only Somanta remained hesitant and alert.

  A sharp knock at the door broke the silence. The door cracked open, and the ever-composed Butler Garron stepped inside, his expression polite but firm.

  “My Lord, My Lady,” he said with a slight bow. “Dinner is served. The young Master and Miss are waiting.”

  Lord Eldric exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Of all the day's discussions, this is the most impactful. I am starving.”

  Master Havlor let out a dry chuckle. “If it’s any consolation, I doubt the children will have us discuss divine interventions and impending crises over soup.”

  Lady Seraphine gave him a pointed look as she rose, smoothing the folds of her gown. “They will if we let them. Our daughter has a way of asking questions at the worst possible moments.”

  Havlor snorted. “She takes after my disciple, then.”

  Samota shot him a glare, but there was amusement behind it.

  As they made their way down the hall toward the dining room, the atmosphere lightened as though they had silently agreed to leave the weight of their conversation behind.

  “If you forgive my impertinence, my Lord,” Havlor mused as they walked, “I used to think noble dinners were events with intrigue and strategy. However, the last one I attended at Lord Artween’s home had a passion-filled twenty-minute debate about when it is proper to dip bread in broth or eat it separately.”

  “I knew I liked that man! “Lord Eldric said without a hint of irony. “And I hope Lord Artween reached the only sound conclusion – Dipping is acceptable only if the bread maintains integrity!”

  “The way you all say these things with straight faces is frankly terrifying,” Somanta muttered.

  Lady Seraphine arched a brow. “You should have been here for last winter’s debate on the proper layering of cloaks.”

  “Oh, I recall,” Garron said, leading the way. “It ended in a duel.”

  “A duel?” Havlor blinked. “Over winter wear?”

  Lord Eldric sighed. “It was a controlled demonstration of practical combat movement while wearing layers. It was essential knowledge.”

  Somanta shook her head. “Master, I think it would be safer to keep the conversation about world-shattering events tonight.”

  As they entered the dining hall, the children turned to greet them. None of them realized that they no longer focused on matters of beacons, and destiny could wait.

  …

  Aldric and Lisette stood by the dining table, speaking in hushed tones. The house had been heavy with silence for weeks, filled only with the worry of their brother’s illness. Laughter was gone, and warmth had faded, leaving only– the cold grip of uncertainty.

  But then, the heavy sounds of footsteps from the hallway rang out. Aldric tensed, Lisette's fingers curling around the fabric of his sleeve.

  The children sensed their change in body language and saw Lord Eldric first, his imposing frame lighter than it had been in days. The usual hardness of his face had softened, if only slightly. Beside him, Lady Seraphine’s expression was not one of despair but of something new—fragile hope. Master Havlo followed, his rugged face holding a knowing smile, and beside him stood a young woman neither Aldric nor Lisette had seen before.

  Aldric’s breath caught for reasons beyond relief.

  Somanta immediately drew Aldric’s attention. As a teenager, he immediately noticed her striking yet refined face framed by her dark hair. It was not her looks that kept his eyes on her, but the way she carried herself. He envied her confidence and poised demeanor as she effortlessly fit in with the adults. He noticed the confidence and self-assurance that had always eluded him. He wasn’t sure why he found it so fascinating, only that he did.

  Lisette, not noticing her brother's distraction, perked up, and she quickly voiced the question that sprang up in her heart, “Mother, Father? Is he getting better?”

  Lady Seraphine knelt down and took her daughter in her arms. “He is resting,” she said with warmth in her voice. “And today, we saw him move his fingers on his own, and it seems his body is not fighting against him.”

  Lisette let out a breath, relief washing over her face. “So he will live?”

  Lord Eldric placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “We do not know yet,” he admitted, ever the realist. But then, to their surprise, a rare smile tugged at his lips. “But we have reason to hope.”

  It was enough! That statement drove the gloom and heaviness from the room and their hearts.

  Lisette beamed, throwing her arms around her mother. Still somewhat dazed, Aldric forced himself to look away from Somanta and meet his father’s gaze. There was still uncertainty ahead, but at that moment, standing beneath the soft glow of the chandeliers, hope had finally returned to their home.

  Somanta’s gaze lingered over the happy family before resting on Aldric. Her expression showed the faintest hint of amusement before she followed the butler to the table. Aldric swallowed, feeling the warmth rise to his face.

  For the first time in days, his thoughts drifted beyond worry. Beyond duty.

  “Please, let’s all sit,” Lord Eldric said, motioning to the table. “It has been a long day, and it is already getting late.”

  Aldric sat, but as the meal began, he could not stop glancing at Somanta. The world was shifting, not just in significant matters of fate—but in the slightest, most unexpected ways.

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  …

  The large dining hall was alive with the soft sounds of silverware and the murmur of lively conversation. Golden candlelight flickered against the towering stone walls, casting shadows across the artwork. The fire in the hearth warmed the room. The scent of roasted meat, sugary fruits, bread, and spiced wine filled the air as servants moved gracefully between the seated nobles and guests.

  Lord Eldric sat at the head of the table. As always, his presence was commanding, yet tonight, it was tempered by the warmth in his gaze. Beside him, Lady Seraphine dined with effortless grace, her every movement reflecting refined culture. As hostess, she easily guided the conversation, ensuring the table remained lively and welcoming.

  Across from her parents, Lisette, only twelve, struggled to sit still, her legs swinging slightly beneath the great oak table. Her bright, inquisitive eyes remained fixed on Master Havlo, the esteemed scholar and Red Essence wielder who dined with them that evening.

  Next to him, his disciple, Somanta, sat poised and elegant, her beauty highlighted in the flickering candlelight. She had the bearing of one accustomed to courtly life, yet something in her eyes—curiosity, quiet intelligence—marked her as more than just another noble lady.

  Somanta asked Aldric, “Have you found any items or ruins from the Kingdom of Monteluz?”

  “Yes, a few small items. There are no ruins, only some foundations. I have a collection of the items in my room if you would like to see them later,” Aldric offered.

  “You can show her later as long as your sister accompanies you,” his mother said in a firm voice. Aldric's face flushed with the implied reason.

  “Are any of the items made of golden wood?” Somanta asked.

  The meal had been pleasant, filled with light conversation until Lisette spoke up between bites of honeyed fruit. “GoldenWood? That is a river that runs through the parched lands; how can something be made of a River?”

  Somanta smiled and turned to the young girl. “The river was named after the Forest of Golden Wood trees, once the pride of the Kingdom of Monteluz. These trees were the heart of the kingdom’s power, for only Golden Wood could be used to build flying ships—though few remain active today. But when Monteluz fell, greed and desperation took hold. Neighbors and raiders cut down every last tree, turning the once-thriving land into the parched wasteland it is now. And in the end, it was all for nothing—no one ever rediscovered the magic that made the ships fly.”

  Disappointment and sorrow laced her voice as she reached for her wine.

  Seeing her chance, "Master Havlo," Lisette said, swallowing quickly, "if people once knew how to build flying ships, towers that touched the clouds, cities that glowed like the stars, and blades that could cut through the wind… why don’t we anymore? Did we just forget?"

  A silence settled over the table as her words hung in the air. Lord Eldric glanced at his daughter with quiet amusement while Lady Seraphine offered Havlo a knowing smile. Somanta set down her goblet, watching her master with interest, waiting for his reply.

  Master Havlo set down his goblet, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached for the candle in the center of the table, its flame flickering gently against the polished wood.

  "Tell me, young lady," he said, his voice low and steady, "what happens to this flame if I leave it alone?"

  Lisette frowned, caught off guard by the question. After a moment, she said, "It will stay lit. "

  "Good," Havlo murmured. He cupped his hands around the candle, shielding it from the faint breeze drifting through the room. "And if I do this?"

  "It stays safe but will not give as much light," she answered, watching him closely.

  He nodded. Then, with a soft breath, he blew the flame out. The warm glow vanished, leaving only a faint curl of smoke.

  "And now?" he asked.

  Lisette hesitated. "It’s… gone."

  "Not gone," Havlo corrected gently. "It simply ceases. But as long as it burned, it gave us warmth, light, and guidance. That is the nature of Essence Empowerment."

  Lisette's brow furrowed. "I don’t understand. What does a candle have to do with magic?"

  Across the table, Somanta leaned forward slightly, intrigued.

  Havlo smiled, setting the candle down. "Essence holders—powerful ones, those who can shape the world—are like candles in the darkness. While they live, their Essence burns bright, and with it, they create. They forge weapons, weave knowledge, and even build entire cities that glow with power. But they are still just people, Lisette. And just like this flame, their power does not last forever."

  Somanta tilted her head, watching her master closely. She had heard pieces of this before, but never in such simple terms.

  "When an Essence wielder is strong, their influence spreads—others gather around their fire, learn from it, build with it," Havlo continued. "But when they fade… when they die… the light they gave begins to dim. The artifacts they empowered weaken. The knowledge they passed down loses its brilliance. The wonders of their time crumble, and if no one carries their flame forward, it is as if they never existed at all."

  Lisette’s eyes widened in realization. "That’s why old kingdoms fall, isn’t it? Why we don’t have the things the ancients had?"

  "Yes," Havlo nodded. "Think of the City of Elaris, where golden bridges once hummed with the power of a Violet Essence wielder. When he lived, the bridges needed no stone, no mortar—his will alone held them together. People crossed them every day, marveling at the wonder. But when his Essence faded from the world, the bridges collapsed when he was gone. And now, the people barely remember how they stood at all."

  Lisette frowned, her cheeks flaring. "But that’s not fair! If they could build something so amazing, why couldn’t they make it last?"

  A chuckle rumbled from Lord Eldric. "A child’s sense of justice," he mused, shaking his head.

  Havlo, however, remained patient. "Because nothing truly lasts, child. Even in your own home, someone must tend the flame, or it will go out. And powerful Essence holders are rare. When one dies, it can be centuries before another of equal strength is born. If no one keeps the knowledge alive, then it is no longer wisdom—it is legend, and from legend, it becomes myth. And myths, my dear, are easy to forget."

  Lisette sat back in her chair, hugging her knees, staring intensely at the candle’s flame as if it held all the answers.

  Lady Seraphine spoke then, her voice soft but firm. "But there are ways to stop it, aren’t there, Master Havlo? Ways to keep the light from going out completely?"

  Havlo nodded solemnly. "Indeed. That is why we study. Why we write, teach, and train. Why people like you, Lisette, must ask questions, must seek answers while we are still in the light. Because if you do not, one day, all that remains of our world will be ashes and forgotten names."

  Slowly, he placed a second candle beside the first, unlit. Then, with a small breath, he used the first candle’s ember to ignite the second. The new wick caught, burning just as brightly.

  "Not all knowledge fades," he said. "Not all wonders die. If a new Essence wielder, even if it is just a gray one, picks up what was lost and learns from the past, carrying the light forward, then civilization can rise again. The cycle does not always have to end in darkness, as if the candle goes out. The greatest wielders are not defined merely by the wonders they created but by the understanding they teach. Spells fade, monuments crumble, but wisdom endures—shaping generations and reshaping destinies. It is in that sharing, not power alone, truly changes the world."

  Somanta watched the flickering flames, her expression deep and contemplative. Master Havlo got up and walked toward Lisette.

  Lisette reached forward and touched the candle, watching the fire dance between them. "I won’t forget," she whispered.

  Havlo placed a gentle hand on Lisette's head—and then suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened ever so slightly before flickering toward the great fireplace behind them. The movement was subtle, but Somanta immediately noticed her brow furrowing.

  Across the table, Lord Eldric muttered under his breath. "Beaconfires," he said, his eyes turning hard.

  Slowly, a smile bloomed on Master Havlo’s face. He had learned something new. His mind turned over the implications, considering them carefully before turning his gaze toward Lord Eldric.

  "My lord, I have a favor to ask of you and your wife," he said at last. "Please allow me to tutor your children. There is much I can teach… and much I can learn."

  The table fell silent. Lady Seraphine’s hand tightened slightly on her goblet. Lord Eldric’s expression betrayed his shock.

  This man tutored princes, not common nobles. His price would be unimaginable. And yet, beyond cost, why would he make such an offer now, after a conversation about the dangers of drawing attention?