After his talks with the Magisters and a quick deal with a marketplace “swindler,” Kael returned home by evening—tired, yet unreasonably content. Night had already settled outside, and their family restaurant was alive with noise, full of regular patrons laughing over dinner and ale.

  He greeted his mother in passing, ate a quick meal at the bar—just enough to quiet his hunger, not really tasting it—and, as usual, shut himself away in his room almost immediately.

  ? ? ?

  Inside, everything was in its proper place: neatly arranged books, stacked artifacts on the shelf, and in the corner—his desk, buried under scrolls and inkpots. Kael sat down and, pulling the day’s “spoils” from his satchel, gave a satisfied hum.

  Three mana elixirs landed on the table—slender glass vials filled with softly glowing blue liquid. The fourth he kept in his hand, gazing at it with barely concealed delight.

  “Didn’t think Magister Priscilla’s wine would be worth that much,” he murmured, turning the vial between his fingers. “By value alone… it’s nearly my father’s monthly wage.”

  He chuckled quietly, popped the cork, and downed the elixir in one gulp. The liquid was cool and slightly bitter, but within seconds, a familiar warmth surged through his veins—mana awakening, quickening every cell in his body.

  Kael leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and letting the power spread through him, preparing him for the night’s training.

  “Then again,” he said under his breath with a smile, “she is a Magister. For her, that’s pocket change.”

  But the moment he said it, he realized how it sounded, and playfully smacked himself on the lips.

  “Blasphemy, Kael,” he muttered to himself with a grin. “We must be grateful to Magister Priscilla.”

  He stood up, took off his boots, and sat cross-legged on the floor—his usual spot for meditation. The air in the room was cool and clean—perfect for focus.

  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and thought:

  “Hopefully, the Council of Elders sets my audience soon… These elixirs won’t last long. And with everything that’s happening, I need to strengthen myself as fast as possible.”

  His thoughts began to slow—fluid, transparent—dissolving into the still air. The inner voice fell silent, giving way to calm.

  Kael sank into stillness, imagining everything around him fading away—the walls, the floor, even the air itself. He was alone in a boundless, soundless void.

  And in that silence, where neither body nor time existed, a mantra began to echo—quiet yet commanding, resonating deep within his heart.

  Kael’s body, following the rhythm of his breath, started drawing in mana: first from within—from his core, where the elixir still lingered—then from the space around him. The streams of energy gathered steadily at the center of his chest, coalescing into a dense sphere of light around his heart.

  Mana thickened, rotated, condensed—until it felt almost tangible.

  His breathing slowed; his lips parted slightly; his body hung suspended between inhale and exhale.

  He was moving closer, ever closer, to the next threshold—the stage of a Core Mage.

  The next two days passed unnoticed—lost in the rhythm of Kael’s new life.

  Mornings meant the academy: lectures, instructions, and practicals he attended more for appearance than for knowledge. From an intellectual standpoint, the lessons offered him nothing new—if anything, they seemed laughably simple. But for his image, they were useful.

  So he sat in his usual place by the window, occasionally asking questions or answering them when called upon. The one thing he had changed was his attitude toward physical training. Once he’d neglected it, limited by a weak, mana-starved body—but now he took it seriously.

  And after classes—every moment belonged to his training.

  Combining mana elixirs with the Canon of Primordial Void, Kael could feel his progress accelerating exponentially.

  ? ? ?

  On the morning of the third day, Kael opened his eyes and felt a lightness he wasn’t used to. For a few seconds he simply sat there, staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what had changed.

  “This feeling…” he murmured softly, focusing on the sensations.

  His body responded differently. Every movement felt sharper, more precise, as if the weight within him had vanished and his muscles were filled with springlike strength. He rose from the floor, ran a hand along his arm, across his chest—beneath the skin, it was as though mana itself flowed.

  “Mana has started to reinforce my body…” he muttered, studying his hands with growing interest.

  The sensations were strange but pleasant. In every gesture there was a quiet power—not wild, not uncontrolled, but balanced, natural.

  Kael thought for a moment, and his memory obediently summoned lines from the old treatises of the Divine Library:

  “When the core begins to affect the body, the mage’s path divides in two: the strengthening of mana and the strengthening of flesh. To neglect one is to weaken the other.”

  “Looks like academy lessons won’t be enough,” he said decisively. “In my previous life, there was no point in doing this, so I fell behind my peers…”

  He ran his fingers across his chest, feeling the steady, calm rhythm of his heart—and the sphere of mana swirling quietly around it.

  “If I don’t want problems later, at the higher levels,” Kael continued, stretching as he rose, “and don’t want to rely on supplements or elixirs… better not to neglect this part.”

  He closed his eyes briefly, diving into memory. Dozens of methods for strengthening the body surfaced in his mind—all adapted for mages—from simple exercise routines to complex practices that combined mana with physical conditioning.

  “I’ll have to pick something that suits me…” he mused, frowning slightly. “Something that doesn’t demand brute strength or rare physical traits. With this body, I can’t handle anything too extreme…”

  He sifted through names of schools and treatises in his mind, recalling their principles and origins.

  “Right… maybe the Path of Silent Pillar?” the thought flickered suddenly. “The sylphs’ bodies were even weaker than mine. Yes… that might work. A method based on harmony and flow, not raw strength.”

  Just as the idea began to take shape, a loud pounding echoed through the door.

  BAM-BAM-BAM!

  The sound was sharp, but this time the door didn’t fly open. Instead, a familiar, lively voice rang out from the other side:

  “Brother, why’d you lock the door? Hiding from me?” It was Kris.

  Kael snapped out of his thoughts, blinking as if returning from another world, and quickly got to his feet.

  “I’m up already!” he called back, making his voice sound energetic. “Go on down, I’ll be there in a minute!”

  Light, quick footsteps echoed through the corridor—Kris was already dashing down the stairs, clearly not planning to wait.

  Kael chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

  “As restless as ever…” he murmured with a hint of a smile.

  He stepped up to the small mirror on the wall and studied his reflection.

  Amber eyes glinted in the soft morning light; his hair was slightly tousled after the night’s training. He ran a hand through it, smoothing the stray locks, and exhaled—his face looked calm, confident, even alive.

  After straightening himself up, Kael headed to the washbasin, splashed cold water on his face, gathered his thoughts, and descended to the first floor.

  The smell of fresh bread and stewed vegetables reached him halfway down—the house was filled with the warmth and comfort of a familiar morning. At the large wooden table sat his family: his father, reading a parchment of Lasthold’s news; Kris, barely restraining herself from digging in; and his mother, leaning over a cup of tea.

  As soon as Kael came down from the second floor, his mother looked up and smiled warmly.

  “You’re not as gloomy today as usual, my son,” she said, her voice carrying a soft note of joy. “That makes me very happy.”

  Kael gave a small nod, replying with an easy smile, and sat down, feeling the homely atmosphere settle warmly in his chest.

  At that moment, Mira—Kael’s mother—cast a very deliberate look at her husband, one that spoke more than words ever could. A muffled thump sounded beneath the table—her foot had hit its mark.

  Kasias flinched, nearly dropping his parchment, coughed awkwardly, and quickly set it aside. With a strained smile, he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and said, trying to sound solemn:

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Your mother and I have been worried about you, son.” His voice softened. “I’m glad to see you smiling more again.”

  He hadn’t even finished speaking when Kris, who had been quietly eyeing her bread, suddenly snorted and said with a sly grin:

  “Maybe he’s in love? No wonder he’s started locking himself in his room lately. Probably dreaming about someone all night.”

  Mira, mid-sip of her tea, nearly choked and coughed.

  “Kris!” she exclaimed, setting her cup down sharply. “Where do you even learn jokes like that?!”

  But Kasias, instead of siding with his wife, burst out laughing—deep, contagious, genuinely amused.

  Wiping tears from his eyes, he caught Mira’s glare and tried to compose himself.

  “Don’t worry, Kael,” he said, barely holding back another laugh. “Every man goes through that phase.”

  Mira had already filled her lungs to shout and restore some decency to the breakfast table when a firm knock came from the restaurant’s front door.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Everyone instantly fell silent. Kasias raised a brow in surprise—at this hour, the restaurant was still closed.

  A moment later, the door creaked softly open, and a man stepped inside—short black hair, a neat goatee, and a dark gray robe embroidered with a silver book: the mark of a member of the Hall of Ancient Research.

  Kasias, still seated, leaned forward slightly, studying the visitor with cautious curiosity.

  “How can we help you?” he asked evenly, though there was a trace of confusion in his voice.

  The guest bowed—politely, though not obsequiously. He had the air of someone used to respect, not flattery.

  “Good morning,” he said courteously. “Forgive the intrusion, but I carry a message for Master Kael.”

  The moment the words left his lips, an awkward silence settled over the room.

  Both Mira and Kasias raised their brows in perfect unison, as if trying to process what they had just heard. “Master Kael?” the phrase echoed in their minds, sounding so absurd they were momentarily at a loss for words.

  Kris, seizing the opportunity, quietly swiped a piece of meat from her brother’s plate.

  Kael froze, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

  “Damn it!” he cursed inwardly, feeling a cold wave spread through him. “Why in the world would they send a messenger straight to my house?! My parents don’t even know I joined the Hall yet!”

  He was about to say something—anything—to explain, but didn’t get the chance.

  Kasias suddenly burst into laughter again—loud, hearty, fatherly.

  “My friend, you must still be drunk!” he said cheerfully, rising from his chair.

  He grabbed a spare seat from the neighboring table, still smiling with unshaken hospitality, and turned to his wife:

  “Darling, bring a bowl of soup. The poor man’s clearly lost his way—let’s at least help him out.”

  Then he looked back at the guest, winking with a good-natured grin:

  “You’ve been drinking till dawn, huh? Don’t worry, brother, I hate hangovers too—I won’t abandon you to suffer alone!”

  Mira couldn’t help but smile, watching her husband. A soft warmth flickered in her eyes—that same look she always had when Kasias revealed his simple, kind-hearted nature. It was, perhaps, that very trait that had made her fall in love with him long ago.

  But just as she took a step toward the kitchen, the man by the door shook his head.

  “No…” he said calmly, though a bit confused by what was happening. “I’m here for your son. For Kael.”

  He turned slightly toward the young man and bowed his head in acknowledgment.

  “The Magisters asked me to inform you that your audience has been scheduled for an hour from now.”

  He paused briefly to let the words settle, then added:

  “You’ll have to miss your lessons today, but Magister Duran has already notified the Academy’s principal, so there’s no cause for concern.”

  In that instant, the entire room seemed to freeze in stunned silence.

  Kasias—standing in the middle of the room, still holding the chair, frozen mid-motion.

  Mira—with her apron lifted, caught halfway to the kitchen, as if turned to stone.

  Even Kris—cheeks stuffed full—gaped so wide that the piece of meat tumbled from her mouth back onto the plate with a quiet plop.

  A dead silence fell.

  Only then did the man in the robe noticeably pale—judging by their faces, he finally realized he had said something he definitely shouldn’t have.

  “O-oh…” he breathed out, straightening sharply. And as if someone had jabbed him with a thorn, he shouted, “My apologies! I must go!”

  He gave a clumsy bow, backing toward the door.

  “Good luck to you, Master Kael!” he blurted hastily, and then, nearly tripping over himself, bolted out of the restaurant.

  The door slammed loudly, the hinges gave a plaintive creak, and then swayed in the aftermath, letting in a faint draft.

  Inside, silence descended again—heavy, stagnant, broken only by the quiet squeak of the door and the distant murmur of the street outside.

  Watching it all, Kael grimaced faintly and exhaled slowly through his nose.

  “Ah, damn…” flashed through his mind. “They would’ve found out after the audience anyway… but it would’ve been better if I’d told them myself. At least without such a… dramatic announcement.”

  He tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. The tension in the air was like an invisible net.

  Kasias was the first to break the silence.

  He finally set the chair down, fixed his gaze on his son, and asked hoarsely, struggling to stay calm:

  “Son… what was that just now?”

  Mira immediately stepped closer, taking Kael’s hand in hers with trembling fingers, as though afraid he might vanish if she let go.

  “Kael,” her voice quivered, “you haven’t gotten yourself into trouble, have you?”

  She turned sharply toward the door where the man had just disappeared, her tone suddenly firm and edged with steel:

  “If that scoundrel’s trying to lure you into something—just say the word! Your father will sort him out in no time!”

  Clearly, the idea that their son had somehow become a Master of the Hall of Ancient Research hadn’t even crossed their minds.

  Mira, never taking her eyes off her son, clearly believed that the man’s words were some kind of “code,” a hidden message—perhaps a threat or trick. And Kasias was already frowning deeper and deeper, seemingly ready to storm outside and hunt down the “rascal” if his son gave even the slightest hint of suspicion.

  Kael edged back a little on his chair, feeling the air grow heavier.

  “Well… actually…” he began uncertainly, and even he was surprised at how awkward he sounded.

  He could lie effortlessly to merchants, teachers, even Magisters—twist words, weave stories—but with his family, it never worked. The words simply refused to obey.

  He looked at his mother—in her eyes burned fear, worry, and the fierce readiness to protect her son from anything, even a demon. That simple, genuine care stripped away the last remnants of his composure.

  Kael took a deep breath, lowered his gaze, and finally decided to speak.

  “There’s a reason for my good mood,” he said quietly but evenly. “I’ve joined the Hall of Ancient Research.”

  He paused, then added:

  “And I became a Third-Rank Master.”

  The words struck like thunder. Even the air in the room seemed to tremble, as if everyone needed a moment to be sure they’d heard him right.

  Kael gave a guilty cough, sensing the tension reach its peak, and added awkwardly:

  “I didn’t want to say anything before… not until I’d done something worthwhile for Lasthold,” he smiled crookedly, “but it turns out I already have.”

  At that, Kasias stepped toward him in astonishment. Laying a hand on his son’s back, he asked:

  “The audience that man mentioned… it’s with the Council of Elders, isn’t it?”

  Realizing there was no point in hiding it, Kael nodded.

  “That’s right, Father. They’re going to present me with a reward—for decoding a valuable scroll.”

  The moment those words left his mouth, a ringing silence filled the room.

  And then—

  “Ha!” Kasias suddenly burst out, and in the next instant, Kael found himself lifted clean off the floor by his father, held under the arms like a feather.

  “Hey!..” was all Kael managed to exhale before he was literally tossed into the air.

  The world flipped upside down; the ceiling flashed by somewhere below—or above—and a heartbeat later, strong hands caught him again. His father’s laughter boomed so loudly it seemed to shake the very walls.

  “Ha-ha-ha! Well done, son!” Kasias bellowed, crushing Kael in a bear hug and rocking him side to side as if holding a feather pillow rather than a young man.

  There was power in those hands—the rough, living warmth of a miner’s strength.

  “I always knew you were a clever lad with a phenomenal memory,” he thundered proudly. “But this? This is beyond anything I imagined!”

  “I was even thinking,” Kasias went on, still laughing, “of dragging you into the mines with me! But with a head like yours—fine, I’ll spare you!”

  Mira, who had been standing frozen in shock, suddenly rushed toward her husband.

  “Dear!” she cried and promptly struck his stone-like back with all her strength. “Put him down this instant! You’ll make him sick!”

  Kasias roared with laughter but, hearing her tone, obediently released his grip.

  Kael landed on the floor with a dull thump, right on his backside. Covering his mouth with one hand, he exhaled:

  “Thanks, Father… I think you nearly crushed my lungs.”

  Mira immediately knelt beside him, taking his hands—her palms warm, slightly trembling. Tears glistened in her eyes, but her smile shone with pride and love.

  “I don’t know how this is possible…” she whispered, her voice shaking, “but I’m so proud of you, my son!”

  Feeling something soft twist in his chest, Kael could only nod—words failed him.

  And then, from the side of the table, came Kris’s familiar, sly voice:

  “Earn a lot, big brother,” she said with a playful squint. “You’ll be sponsoring my training in the future!”

  Kael turned his head, meeting her gaze. Despite the teasing tone, her eyes sparkled with warmth—pride and genuine admiration for her older brother.

  That surge of warmth—pure, sincere, almost childlike—made Kael’s heart ache sharply.

  For a fleeting moment, it seemed to him that this entire world—his father’s laughter, his mother’s trembling hands, his sister’s shining eyes—was just an illusion. That if he blinked, it would all vanish, and he would wake again in the Divine Library.

  He drew in a deep breath, clenched his fists, willing himself not to waver. A faint, fragile smile touched his lips.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly but firmly. “I’ll do everything I can so you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

  Mira opened her mouth to reply, but the touching moment was shattered by Kasias’s booming laugh.

  “Ah, my boy!” he roared, sweeping in from behind and, with one mighty motion, scooping both his wife and son up under his arms as if they weighed nothing.

  With a single swing, he set them both on their feet again and clapped Kael on the head with a heavy palm, nearly knocking him backward.

  “Parents always worry about their children!” he said loudly, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s one thing you’ll never fix, no matter how hard you try!”

  He paused dramatically, then slapped Kael on the back and added with fatherly authority:

  “Now stop clinging to your mother’s skirts! Eat up—and get going!” He smirked at his bewildered son and boomed: “You can’t keep the esteemed Council of Elders waiting! Or would you rather bring shame upon the family?”

  Kael only chuckled, shaking his head, but didn’t argue. He nodded decisively and, sitting back down at the table, said calmly:

  “Then let’s eat together. A family breakfast will give me strength.”

  Mira smiled—that same warm, gentle smile that always made everything feel lighter. She quickly set fresh rolls on the table, poured everyone tea, and sat beside him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  “That’s better,” she said approvingly. “And tonight I’ll make a celebratory dinner in your honor. You’ll tell us everything—in detail!”

  Kael only nodded, but inwardly he thought:

  “Not everything. But enough to keep you from worrying—that, I can do.”

  With that, he began to eat quickly, feeling time slipping away. The Council of Elders awaited—and the start of his audience was only moments away. He understood that this would be one of the most important events of his new life.

  ? Author’s Note ?

  Thanks for reading! I’m sharing this story on RoyalRoad in my spare time, while most of my focus goes to Book 3 of The Greatest Heretic. Unfortunately, only a few chapters of that series are on RR — the full story is on Amazon.

  This story about Kael is different: I don’t plan to publish it on Amazon and will be slowly developing it here. If you enjoy it, your ratings and reviews will let me know the story is connecting with readers, and I’ll do my best to put in more time and release chapters more regularly!

  So yeah… drop those stars, reviews and comments — it’s basically the SPAM2WIN code to spawn extra chapters and keep this author-NPC grinding at the keyboard. ?????