Draven found a quiet spot behind the library.A stone bench tucked between two trees where no one really went. Perfect for thinking. For processing.He sat down and let himself breathe.The pendant was warm against his chest. Not calling. Just present. Waiting.Draven closed his eyes and let the memories surface.Pyrion's tomb. The trials. The Dragonfire Sovereign Art burning in his hands before he destroyed it. The weight of that choice still sat heavy sometimes.King Aldrich's soldiers. Their memories flowing into the pendant. Centuries of loyalty and service. Knowledge that made him stronger but also more aware of his limitations.The mill. Running through the forest. The jump into the ravine. The cold water. The failure.Draven opened his eyes and stared at the trees above. Leaves rustled in the breeze. Birds called. Normal afternoon sounds.So much had happened in just a few months. He'd gone from a nobody student to someone people whispered about. The man who rejected power. The

Garrett found Draven alone on the third day.Not by accident. Draven could tell from the way his brother walked up. Calculated. Purposeful."We need to talk," Garrett said."About what?""About why I'm really here."They were in the library courtyard. Quiet. Private. Garrett sat on the stone bench and gestured for Draven to join him.Draven stayed standing.Garrett smiled. Not the warm smile he showed others. This one was sharp. "Still stubborn. Good. You'll need that.""What are you talking about?""I wasn't just visiting, Draven. Father sent me."The words hung in the air between them."To check on me," Draven said flatly."To assess you." Garrett leaned back. "The family's been hearing stories. Draven Ashworth destroying the Dragonfire Sovereign Art. Surviving impossible tombs. Making a name for himself. Father wanted to know if the stories were true.""And?""And they are. You've gotten stronger. A lot stronger." Garrett's eyes were calculating. "That's a problem.""For who?""For

Draven woke before dawn.He dressed quietly, grabbed his sword, and headed to the training grounds before anyone else was awake. The academy was silent. Dark. Just the way he wanted it.He stopped by the equipment shed first. Found what he was looking for in the back corner.Training weights.Heavy iron bands designed to strap around the waist, wrists, and ankles. Old school conditioning. The kind that built real strength, not just magical power.Draven picked up the waist belt. Twenty pounds of solid iron. He strapped it on and felt the weight settle against his hips.Then the ankle weights. Ten pounds each.Then the wrist weights. Five pounds each.Fifty pounds total. Every movement would be harder. Every swing slower. Every step heavier.Perfect.He walked to the training grounds and started with basic forms. The sword felt different with the extra weight. His arms burned faster. His legs protested.But that was the point.Draven worked through the first form. Then the second. By t

Draven woke up gasping.Sweat soaked through his shirt. His heart pounded against his ribs. The room spun.For a moment, he didn't know where he was.Then it came back. His dorm room. The academy. His bed.Not the forest. Not the fairy. Not the Ashworth estate."Draven!"The door burst open. Jin rushed in, followed by Lyra and Sera. They crowded around his bed, concern written on their faces."You okay?" Jin asked. "You were shouting.""I'm fine." Draven's voice came out rough. He coughed and tried again. "Just a dream.""Just a dream?" Sera's eyes were sharp. "You've been asleep for two days.""What?""Two days," Lyra repeated. "You collapsed during training. Wouldn't wake up. The healers checked you three times. Said there was nothing physically wrong, but you just... slept."Draven's mind raced. Two days. He'd been unconscious for two days.And everything with Garrett. The visit. The training. The letter. The deal. The gathering.All of it was a dream?"Give him space," Sera said,

Draven walked most of the journey. Could've hired a carriage, but he wanted the time. Time to think. Time to prepare. Time to remember who he was before he stepped back into the place he'd left behind.His team had gone ahead to a town nearby. Close enough to reach if things went wrong. Far enough to stay out of sight.The journey was uneventful. No fairies in ancient forests. No mercenaries on the road. Just quiet travel through farmland and villages.Normal.Almost boring.By the third afternoon, the estate appeared on the horizon.The Ashworth manor sat on a hill, surrounded by stone walls and guard towers. The family banner flew above the main gate. Even from a distance, the place looked impressive.And cold.Draven stopped at the base of the hill. Looked up at the walls he'd grown up behind.Nothing had changed. Same stone. Same towers. Same feeling of being watched before you even entered.He started walking.The guards at the gate recognized him immediately. Straightened. Salut