Chapter 1 | Part 6

His father was waiting at the compound gate.

Drusniel saw him from fifty paces away, a dark silhouette against the bioluminescent glow of the family estate. Arms crossed. Stance wide. The posture of a man who had been expecting bad news and received it.

The walk from the temple had taken an hour. His ceremonial slippers had rubbed the skin raw above one heel.

His father watched him approach without speaking.

Drusniel stopped three paces away. Proper distance for addressing the head of House Thel’varin.

“So.” His father’s voice was flat. “The trial.”

“I failed.”

His mouth was dry. He made himself hold his father’s gaze.

His father’s expression barely changed. Drusniel saw resignation in it. Perhaps he was inventing that too.

“Come inside,” his father said. “Your mother is waiting.”

Inside, he passed the training yard. Someone had set out the wooden targets for tomorrow.

His mother waited in the entry hall. She looked first at his hands, then his face.

Shyntara stood beside her, arms folded, eyes sharp.

“Drusniel.” His mother crossed to him and touched his face. Her hands were cool. “You’re home.”

“Mother, I—”

“It’s done.” She cut him off gently. “You’re home. That’s what matters.”

His mother turned away before he could say Annariel’s name. His father was already watching him with that evaluating stare.

“You report to the east terrace tomorrow,” his father said. “We have lost enough training time.”

“Something went wrong.” Drusniel kept his hands at his sides. “I felt it working. Then it stopped.”

“It didn’t work.” His father’s voice hardened. “That’s what failure means. You gambled time you should have spent training, and you lost. Now that’s done. We move forward.”

“I’m not—”

“Did anyone question you about your preparation?”

Shyntara hadn’t moved from the wall.

“What?”

“At the temple.” She stopped an arm’s length away. “Did anyone ask who taught you?”

Drusniel glanced at his father.

“No.”

“And Annariel?”

“They took him into training. I didn’t hear anyone ask.”

Shyntara held his gaze for a long moment. Then she looked away.

“Children.” Their mother’s voice carried an edge of warning. “Enough. Tonight is not the night for this.”

“She’s right.” Their father moved toward the corridor that led to his study. “There are other matters to discuss. Come. Both of you.”

Drusniel followed. Shyntara let him go ahead of her.

His father’s study was a narrow room lined with weapons. Knives of every design hung from pegs in the walls, trophies from three generations of completed contracts. Drusniel knew which ones his father still took down to use. The long, plain knife nearest the desk was missing tonight. He looked for it on the desk and found it beside the unopened dispatches.

“Close the door,” his father said.

Shyntara did.

Their father stood behind his desk, hands flat on the scarred wood surface. His jaw worked silently for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was lower than before. Careful.

“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. Your mother knows. No one else.”

Drusniel glanced at Shyntara. She had turned toward their father.

“House Vrinn,” their father said. “Contracts diverted. Territory tested. Their people have started appearing near our routes. None of it is an attack. All of it is pressure.”

Shyntara leaned forward. “What do we do?”

“No one leaves alone. Double the night watch. Review the eastern routes.”

Drusniel listened to patrol schedules and defensive positions. Shyntara answered without hesitation. By the time he understood one route, they had moved to the next.

“Stay close to home,” his father said, looking at Drusniel. “Your family needs you here.”

He could not make himself ask them to believe him now.

His best friend was inside the training halls. Whatever had happened to his magic remained unnamed. The future he’d chosen for himself no longer existed.

When his father unrolled a patrol map, Drusniel shifted aside to make room for Shyntara.

End of Chapter 1.6 —> 2.1: Voices in the Dark: The Empty Days