Novels by Lucien

The guild hall was bright.Torches lined the stone walls. Long tables stretched across the main floor, heavy with roasted meats and fresh bread and wine from the northern vineyards. Merchant families filled the room in their finest—wool and silk and silver buckles. The hum of conversation was constant. The air smelled of wax and perfume.The Vail family entered together.Rordan led. His back was straight. His dark tunic was pressed. He looked like a man who had spent his whole life preparing for this moment. Aldric walked beside him, stiff and pale, his hands clasped behind his back. Maren followed, beaming, her amber dress catching the torchlight. Bran came last—quiet, watchful, invisible the way he liked to be.Soren walked at the edge of them. The dark wool tunic his mother had laid out fit him well. Too well, perhaps. He had caught his reflection in the carriage window and barely recognized himself.Eyes turned as they entered. The Vail name was known. Rordan's reputation was know

The guild notice arrived at dawn.Soren heard the knock from his room. Three sharp raps against the front gate. Then Mira's footsteps in the hall. Then Maren's voice, low and quick, calling for Rordan.By the time Soren came downstairs, the letter was already on the dining table. Rordan stood over it. Maren was beside him. Bran and Aldric were in their usual seats, waiting.Rordan looked up. "The guild is hosting a pre-Tournament gathering. Three days from now. All sponsored competitors and their families are expected to attend."He read the letter aloud. Formal language. The Merchant Guild requested the honor of the Vail family's presence. Aldric would be introduced to guild officials. The family's attendance was expected.Rordan set the letter down. "We'll all attend. This is Aldric's introduction. The family must present itself well." His eyes moved to Soren. "All of us."Soren nodded. "Understood."Rordan studied him a moment longer. Then he folded the letter and tucked it into hi

Breakfast was quiet.Not the comfortable quiet of a family too tired to speak. Something else. Something that sat in the room like a fifth person no one wanted to acknowledge.Maren was talking. She had been talking since Soren sat down, filling the silence with observations about the weather and Mira's bread and how nice it was to have guests. "He was so polite," she said, stirring her tea. "Proper upbringing. You can always tell."Rordan didn't look up from his plate."Most young men of his age and status would be prideful. But he was composed. Respectful." She glanced at Soren. "How do you know him again?""We share a class.""That's all?""That's all."Maren nodded, but her eyes lingered on him a moment longer than they needed to. She knew there was more. She always knew. She just never pushed.Aldric was silent. He had been silent since the dinner. Since Rudeus had glanced at him across the table and said almost nothing. Since their father had looked at Soren with something that

The ache was gone.Soren opened his eyes to pale morning light. He flexed his fingers. Rotated his wrists. Nothing. There was no stiffness. No soreness. Yesterday Gerath had pushed him hard, beyond what he was used to. Breath control, halo discipline, muscles he didn't know he had screaming for rest. He should have woken up barely able to move.Instead he felt like he'd slept for over a week.He pressed his palm against his chest. The pulse answered. Surging. Steady. His halo had healed him while he slept. Again. Faster than before. He was getting used to it. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing.He swung his legs off the bed. The figure on the wall surfaced in his mind—dark against the fading sky, standing on the parapet. Watching. Then gone. He hadn't told anyone. Who would he tell? Gerath would want to investigate. Kael would make jokes to cover his unease.A knock at the door."Young master, I'm coming in now."Mira. Soren opened his mouth to respond but the door was already sw

Soren found Gerath before dawn.The garrison yard was empty. The first gray light was just brushing the top of Wall Aldric. Gerath stood near the equipment shed, a pack slung over his shoulder. He didn't seem surprised to see Soren. He didn't seem anything."You thought about my offer," Gerath said."I have.""And?"Soren met his eyes. "I'm in."Gerath nodded once. No smile. No congratulations. Just the nod of a man who had expected the answer and was already planning the work. "Good. We start now. Come on. We're not training here."The field was beyond Wall Iros.Soren had not been this far outside the city since the breach. Since Doran. The eastern gate was smaller than the western one—less traffic, fewer guards. Gerath nodded to the watchman and led Soren through. The gate closed behind them.The field stretched toward the treeline. Scarred earth. Trampled grass. The same field where Soren had watched Theron Antares kill a beast-type with a single throw. The morning mist hung low o

The Vail courtyard was alive with the sound of steel. Marthen stood at the center of the yard, his practice sword loose in his grip. He was gray-haired and scarred, a retired garrison soldier who had spent the last five years training Aldric Vail in the finer points of combat. He kept a small training space behind the stables—a patch of packed dirt, a rack of wooden blades, a worn post for striking drills. Far enough from the main house that Soren had never had reason to pass it. Marthen came three mornings a week His halo pressed outward with the steady, controlled presence of someone who had spent decades learning to contain exactly as much as he needed and not a fraction more. Rordan paid him well. Marthen treated the work with the quiet patience of a man who had stopped needing to prove anything years ago. Aldric was across from him. His thrusts were improving. Marthen corrected his elbow with a tap of his blade. "Again. Keep the arm tight. You're still telegraphing." Aldri

The shed was colder than Julie remembered.Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe she'd just stopped feeling anything on the walk back. Her feet were numb. Her hands were stiff inside her gloves. The cold had settled into her bones and made itself at home.She pushed the door open.Celeste was on the floor, her back against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest. She was rocking slowly, back and forth, her arms wrapped around herself. Arnold lay beside her. His eyes were open. His face was gray. He wasn't moving.Julie stood in the doorway for a long moment, looking at them. Her father. Dead. Her mother. Broken.Then she stepped inside.Celeste looked up. Her eyes were red and swollen. "Where's Cameron?""He's with Jacob."The words came out flat.Silence.Celeste stared at her for a long moment. Then something shifted in her face. Not anger. Not accusation. Just a slow, dawning understanding."He's gone, isn't he?"Julie didn't answer."My grandson's gone."Julie's legs gave out. She sank to h

Julie's arms were empty.She didn't remember letting go of Cameron. She didn't remember Terry taking him. She only knew that one moment he was in her arms, cold and still, and the next he was gone. Her hands hung at her sides, useless.The cold didn't feel cold anymore. It didn't feel like anything.Terry was saying something. Words that sounded soft and careful, like he was talking to a frightened animal. She didn't answer. She didn't look at him. She just stared at the gate.Jacob had taken Cameron.He'd taken the boy and walked back toward the villa without a word.Terry's hands were on her arm, pulling her up."Mrs. Evans. You need to get up. You can't stay out here."She didn't have the strength to answer."He's gone," Julie finally said. The words came out flat. "He's gone and I'm still here. How is that fair?"Terry didn't answer. He just stood there, his breath misting in the cold air.Julie stared at the villa. The windows were dark. The shutters were sealed. Jacob was in the

Scarlett didn't sleep.By dawn, the sky was still red, but the light was wrong. The snow glowed faintly, like the earth itself was sick.She heard her father moving in his study.The door opened, and he came out wearing his heavy coat, the one he used for winter trips to the mountains. He had a bag in his hand. His face was set in that calm, determined way that meant he'd already made up his mind."What are you doing?" Scarlett asked."I'm going to check on the foundation's people."She stood up from the window. "Dad, look outside. You can't drive in this.""Then I'll walk.""You'll die."He paused, his hand on the front door. "Scarlett, I've spent forty years helping people. I'm not going to stop now because the weather's bad.""This isn't weather. This is the end."He looked at her for a long moment. "That's what you believe?""That's what I know."Her father shook his head slowly. " you know Evelyn’s told me about that Jacob guy. He’s the one who’s filled your head with all this no

Jacob woke to the sound of Terry's voice on the radio."Mr. Reed. You there?"He sat up. The room was warm. Victoria was nowhere to be found. He glanced at the clock. 5:58 AM.He picked up the radio from the nightstand. "Go ahead.""Sorry to wake you, sir. But you should see the main road."Jacob slipped out of bed and walked to the window. The shutters were still sealed, but he could see the faint glow of the security lights through the slats. The world outside was quiet.Too quiet.He pulled on his clothes and went downstairs. The security monitor in the living room was already on, the feed switching between cameras. He sat down and brought up the view from the bottom of the hill.The main road was a graveyard.Cars everywhere. Dozens of them. Some abandoned, doors hanging open. Some smashed into each other. A few had flipped onto their roofs. One was still burning, a thin plume of black smoke curling into the red-gray sky."Been watching it for about an hour," Terry said through th

Scarlett woke to the sound of snow against her windows.For a long moment, she didn't move. She lay in bed with the blankets pulled up to her chin, listening. The wind was still blowing, but softer now. The snow made a faint, persistent sound against the glass.She sat up slowly and looked out.The world was gone.Not the house. Not the grounds. Not the trees at the edge of the property. Those were still there, barely, their shapes softened by the layer of white that had already settled over everything. But the world beyond—the road, the neighboring houses had disappeared into the gray-white haze.It was still snowing.She reached for her phone. The screen lit up. 2:47 AM.The first night wasn't over yet.Scarlett pulled on a robe and walked downstairs. The house was warm. Her father had insisted on leaving the heat on, even though the power had been flickering for hours. The generator was ready if it failed. She'd made sure of that weeks ago.The kitchen was empty. Her father was in

The rain stopped about an hour after they reached the shed.Not that it mattered. Their clothes were already damp, their skin stinging from the rain. Julie sat against the back wall with Cameron in her lap, her arms wrapped around him. He'd stopped crying a while ago. Now he just shivered, his small body trembling against hers.Arnold had gone out to check the car twenty minutes ago. He'd come back shaking his head. "Battery's dead. It won't start."No one had argued. There was nowhere to go anyway. The house was cold and dark. The streets were crawling with desperate people. Arnold paced the length of the shed, his footsteps crunching on the dirt floor. Celeste had found a stack of old pallets and was sitting on them like a queen on a ruined throne, her face pinched with cold and fury."This is his fault," she said.Nobody answered."This is all his fault. If he'd just opened the gate—""He offered to take Cameron." Julie's voice was flat. "I said no."Celeste's head snapped toward