The first thing Nia Frostvale heard when she returned to Moonlily's emergency ward was not a wounded soldier screaming.It was Elias Vane being adored."You are very brave," a young chapel healer said, wrapping a clean strip of linen around his forearm.Elias lay on a cot with one leg propped up, one shoulder bandaged, and the faint tragic pallor of a man who had suffered exactly as much as was useful. He looked noble. He looked exhausted. He looked, Nia decided, extremely fake."I only did what any apprentice would do," he said softly. "Moonlily needed help. I could not simply stand aside."The healer's eyes shone. "Most apprentices would have run."Most apprentices should have run, Elias thought. Running is underrated. The only reason I stayed was because that discount massage house refused to refund me.Nia stopped in the doorway.Of course.The city had survived an abyssal disaster. The streets still smelled faintly of smoke and blood magic. Knights were dragging rubble away from

The banquet began with prayers.Vivian stood before the hall, hands folded, and thanked the gods for sparing Moonlily City. She thanked the knights for answering her call. She thanked Wintervale Sanctum for its vigilance. She thanked the citizens for their courage.She did not thank the young man who had actually saved everyone.That omission made her stomach twist.Elias stood near the dessert table, listening with polite interest while Nia watched him like a guard dog disguised as an archmage.He looks bored, Vivian thought. Does he dislike formal ceremonies? Or is he pretending? He is probably pretending. Mysterious men always pretend.She finished the address to loud applause.The hall relaxed. Music began. Servants carried trays of wine, fruit, roasted fowl, glazed cakes, and tiny pastries dusted with sugar.Elias's gaze sharpened.Nia moved one step closer to the pastries.A silent war began.Vivian slipped away to a side chapel before she could lose courage. The chapel was smal

Vivian arrived in the armory wearing a worried expression and carrying no hammer.That, Elias decided, was progress."Lord Vane," she said, then flushed. "I mean Elias. Sword Golem said you wished to speak with me.""I do."The golem stood behind her like a guilty monument.Elias folded his arms. "My name is Elias Vane. Before that, in a life buried by history, I was known by another name. The First King of Violet."Vivian stared.Her lips parted.Good, Elias thought. There. Simple. Direct. No room for misunderstanding.Vivian's eyes filled with tears."You truly admire him that much?"Elias froze.Nia, who had absolutely not been invited but had followed anyway and was hiding behind a weapon rack, covered her mouth.Vivian clasped her hands. "You took his name, his style, even his tragic mysterious aura. That is so moving. My ancestor inspired devotion across a thousand years."Elias looked slowly at the Sword Golem.The Sword Golem looked at the wall."No," Elias said. "Vivian. I am

After Nia fell asleep, Elias sat at her desk and wrote. His pen moved faster than most mages could cast. Lines of theory poured across the paper: frost channel compression, rotational mana flow, safe heat exchange, emotional stabilization, sleep-state imprinting, and seventeen separate warnings written in increasingly insulting language. At the top of the first page, he wrote a title. The Winterheart Meditation. Then he crossed it out. Too obvious. He tried again. Elementary Notes on Frost Stability. Too boring. Finally, he wrote: A.I. Instructional Primer, Volume One. He looked at it. Perfect. A.I. could stand for Arcane Inheritance. Ancient Instructor. Absolutely Innocent. Anything, really. The important part was that it did not say Elias Vane, Former First King, Accidental Mentor to His Own Mentor. He turned another page and began designing the dream. Teaching someone powerful without revealing oneself was an art. The teacher required mystery, authori

The survivor was waiting in Andrew Greyfell's office.He was large, pink, furious, and wearing a Wintervale apprentice satchel around his neck.Nia stared.The pig stared back."This is Scholar Bram," Andrew said. "Before the curse, he specialized in volcanic mana anomalies."Scholar Bram snorted angrily."He has attempted to explain what happened," Andrew continued, "but communication has been difficult."The pig produced a long series of offended grunts.Elias, standing behind Nia, tilted his head.Eastern mountain hog dialect, he thought. Rough accent. He is saying the coffee in this office is terrible and someone owes him trousers.Nia turned her head very slowly.Elias looked at the ceiling.Andrew slid a book across the desk.Basic Grammar of Common Beast Tongues: Boar and Hog Variants.Author: E. V.Nia opened the cover.Her eyes lifted to Elias.He smiled. "A surprising number of old scholars wrote under initials."Andrew did not notice the exchange. "Nia, the cursed region li