1 Prelude

In the quiet, one could discern the soft sounds made by my master's heir, reminiscent of any infant's peaceful slumber, blissfully unaware of the surrounding turmoil. My little noble lord sought only tranquility.

My own predicament reflected a failure in discipline, despite years spent learning from my venerable master. My inability to emulate his strength in these trying times, where decisive action was needed amidst the potential downfall of our empire, highlighted my shortcomings. Valyria had fallen, its destruction sending shockwaves of freedom across those once under its dominion—a concept deeply complex and often misunderstood, particularly by those like myself who had never fully experienced it.

"How?" This question came from my mistress, her expression mirroring mine, her violet eyes revealing the shock we both felt. Despite her concern, her beauty remained unmarred, her silver hair flawlessly framing her face.

"My knowledge is as limited as what's known in Lys," My lord admitted. My master's ignorance was a choice, making it unfathomable to me that there could be anything he wished to know but didn't. Such ignorance was least likely in our city.

Remember, Malon, never to assume absolutes.

Perplexed, I seated myself without waiting for an invitation, pondering the unexpected turn of events. "This was unforeseen," He mused, recalling our journey initiated for my lord's quest for peace, far from the political intrigue and dangers of the empire.

"Magic must be involved," He speculated, considering the enormity of the disaster.

My gaze involuntarily shifted to the young master, a shiver running through me at the thought of him being a target.

They couldn't have.

Turning back to Lord Galaenar, an unspoken conversation ensued, our eyes exchanging fears and possibilities.

"What do we do?" Lady Nesaenya's voice broke the silence, her fear now palpable.

"The Lyseni will be upon us soon," she continued, her voice trembling.

"Manaessa was... poisoned," Lord Galaenar interjected, acknowledging the tragic loss of Lady Manaessa, whose absence brought immense sorrow to him.

For the first time, I saw vulnerability in my lord, feeling a personal failure in my duty to protect.

"We can't both escape," Lord Galaenar concluded, his gaze settling on his son, a brief respite from grief in his expression.

"Nobody knows about Gaelon," he stated, emphasizing the secrecy surrounding the young heir's existence.

"No one at all," I echoed, understanding the gravity of our situation.

Lord Galaenar's plan unfolded, entrusting me with the safety of his son amid the chaos, advising the use of all of our resources wisely except for one special chest meant for Gaelon.

Challenging my objections, he stressed the necessity of our actions in response to the empire's fall and Lys's ensuing threat. Our strategy included avoiding obvious escape methods and relying on subtler means for safety.

Embracing me, Lord Galaenar acknowledged our bond beyond blood, expressing gratitude for my loyalty. His final words, urging me to live fully, resonated deeply.

As I took custody of the young heir, my resolve strengthened despite the heartache of parting. Lady Nesaenya's blessings for her son underscored the profound sacrifice being made.

Leaving with a promise of protection, I felt the weight of my responsibility and the love of a family facing its darkest hour, committed to safeguarding the future they entrusted to me.

With a deep breath, the memory receded as I came back to the present.

"It's up to you now, Malon," she whispered, struggling to memorize his son's cherubic features, her eyes searching for some deeper understanding as to who her son would be as he grew, someone they would never meet.

"Stay good and kind, and learn to be free," she prayed.

With a kiss on his forehead, she bid him farewell, whispering one final blessing, "Soar through the heavens, and never fear the heights you may achieve."

As I move away, their sobs reach me, the growing distance doing nothing to muffle the sound that gnaws at my soul.

Overcome by a fleeting moment of frailty, I glance back to find them embracing, oblivious to the flames engulfing the Maltanis estate.

Somehow, their embrace instills a sense of reassurance in me. With a smile tinged with nostalgia, I shout with all my might, "I will guard him in life and death."

Ending on a soft note, I murmur, "Brother."