[House Veyrath — The Training Ground — The Next Morning]
Vaerun walked through the long sandstone corridor toward the training grounds, his dark robes moving quietly with each measured step. Seyra walked beside him, her tiny fingers wrapped around his hand, while Butler Renn followed a few paces behind.
The morning air carried the scent of dust and steel from the training grounds ahead, and for several moments, Seyra remained unusually quiet, then she looked up.
"Are you really going to make me your only daughter?"
Vaerun glanced down at her. "Yes. I do not go back on my word."
Seyra thought about that for a moment. "So... you’re not going to marry any woman?"
"I never said that."
Her violet eyes immediately brightened with interest. "Then why don’t you marry the Malik?"
. . .
. . .
CAWWW!
A raven cried somewhere above the courtyard.
CAWWW!
Another followed.
Vaerun stopped. Renn stopped; even the morning wind seemed to hesitate. Seyra looked around. Vaerun and Renn remained completely motionless, finally, Vaerun slowly looked down at her.
"That can never happen."
"Why?"
"A man cannot marry another man."
Seyra blinked. "But there is no law saying a man cannot marry another man."
Vaerun’s expression remained unreadable. Seyra continued, completely unaware that she had just stepped into territory far more dangerous than any training ground.
"And who is stronger than the Malik of this empire to question him? Isn’t Malik the law of Eshkaran?"
Renn’s eyes widened slightly, and Vaerun stared at her because she was right; there was no imperial decree forbidding a man from marrying another man. And even if such a law had existed, the Malik possessed the authority to change the laws of Eshkaran.
Vaerun slowly lowered himself until he was at Seyra’s height; his silver eyes studied her face.
"Where did you learn all this?"
Seyra blinked innocently. "I didn’t learn it...I just know."
Vaerun said nothing. Seyra looked at him for a moment before continuing in the simple, honest way only a child could.
"Love is love. It doesn’t matter if someone is a man or a woman."
Vaerun’s expression remained still, then Seyra’s little brows drew together. "And, Papa...you looked disgusted last time when you looked at Malik."
The words landed differently; that made Vaerun go completely still, and behind him, Renn’s expression changed. Seyra had not meant to wound him; she had simply said what she had seen, but sometimes the simplest words carried the deepest weight.
Renn cleared his throat gently.
"My lady... Azram is not disgusted by the Malik. It is merely... unusual to see a man have feelings for another man. It may be difficult to understand how two men could be together."
Seyra did not answer; she simply looked at Vaerun, and her expression had lost its earlier mischief. Her small fingers tightened around his.
"But...it hurts to be looked at with disgust."
. . .
. . .
Silence.
This time, there was no raven. Vaerun’s silver eyes remained fixed upon her because he knew he had looked at Zayrakh that way since he found Malik had feelings for him.
Whenever the Malik’s gaze lingered upon him with that dangerous affection, Vaerun’s first response had always been rejection, disgust, and resentment. And now his four-year-old daughter had simply looked at him and named what he had refused to acknowledge.
For a moment, Vaerun had no answer.
"My lady."
Captain Kharzen’s voice broke the silence. Seyra turned, and her entire expression brightened.
"Captain!"
She immediately released Vaerun’s hand and ran toward him. "I am here to meet all of you!"
Kharzen laughed softly as he lowered himself slightly to greet her. "It is an honor to be greeted by the lady of House Veyrath herself. Come. I shall introduce you to the others."
Seyra happily took his hand, and she followed him toward the training grounds, her attention already captured by the rows of knights waiting ahead. Vaerun remained where he was, and Renn watched him for a moment before speaking quietly.
"Azram... Lady Seyra is only a child. Do not take her words to heart."
Vaerun said nothing; his gaze remained upon the little girl walking beside Kharzen. After several moments, he finally spoke.
"Uncle Renn."
Renn froze. It had been years since Vaerun had called him that.
Since childhood, before the title of Azram had become heavier than the boy who once carried it.
Renn had raised him after the deaths of his parents. Whenever the burdens of House Veyrath became too heavy, whenever Vaerun needed an honest answer rather than the words expected from a servant, he called him Uncle Renn.
It meant he was not speaking as Azram; he was simply asking as Vaerun.
Renn’s expression softened.
"Yes?"
Vaerun’s voice was quieter this time. "Do I look at Malik Zayrakh with disgust?"
Renn sighed; he had hoped the question would never come, but he had also promised himself long ago that when Vaerun came to him as the boy he had raised, he would never lie.
"I believe Lady Seyra is right, Azram." Vaerun’s gaze lowered. Renn continued gently.
"You do."
Vaerun remained silent; the training grounds were only a short distance away, yet he did not move. He looked toward Seyra again, she was already smiling as Kharzen introduced her to the knights, completely unaware of the storm she had left behind.
Vaerun finally exhaled, his hand rose and passed through his dark hair, and a deep sigh escaped him.
One innocent observation from his four-year-old daughter had forced him to question something he had never bothered to question before. Behind him, Renn watched quietly, and ahead, Seyra’s laughter echoed through the training grounds.
Vaerun finally began walking again, but his expression remained thoughtful and the question stayed with him.
Was it truly disgust he felt when he looked at Malik Zayrakh...or was it something else he had never allowed himself to understand?
***
[House Veyrath—Later The Training Hall]
"WOOOOOWWWWW~~~"
Seyra’s voice exploded across the training grounds.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"
Every knight flinched. Several of them instinctively turned toward one another, their expressions stiffening at the strange word their young lady had just shouted with complete confidence.
Seyra noticed none of it; her violet eyes were fixed on what stood at the heart of the training hall.
A massive pillar of pale stone rose from the center of the courtyard, so enormous that its upper end seemed to disappear into the heavens. Ancient carvings spiraled around its surface, worn smooth in some places by centuries of wind, while faint currents of air moved endlessly around it.
Golden sunlight passed through those currents, making the entire pillar shimmer as though the sky itself had been caught within the stone.
Seyra’s mouth fell open.
"How can something this huge exist?" She tilted her head back until her neck hurt. "Who built it? A Greek god?"
The knights stared at her. Kharzen slowly looked toward Renn. Renn looked toward Vaerun. Vaerun, however, remained completely composed; he simply stepped forward, lifted Seyra into his arms, and settled her against his chest.
"That is the Veyra (Air) Pillar."
Seyra blinked.
"The Veyra Pillar?"
Vaerun nodded.
"Yes."
Seyra looked back toward the enormous structure, and then she saw it. The great white leopard, Veyra. The elemental spirit that had always remained beside Vaerun, invisible to everyone else.
The magnificent creature circled the ancient pillar silently, its enormous body formed from swirling currents of pale air. Its burning eyes swept across the training grounds before it settled comfortably at the base of the pillar.
The wind around it moved like a living breath. Seyra stared; she had seen Veyra before but never like this. The great leopard looked almost peaceful here, as though it had returned to a place it remembered.
Vaerun noticed where she was looking, and his gaze rested upon the pillar.
"Every great house possesses a sacred elemental power inherited through its bloodline, and that power becomes the guardian of the house."
Seyra’s eyes remained fixed upon Veyra. "So Veyra is the guardian of our house?"
"That is right." Vaerun gently patted her hair. "Our ancestors carried many elemental powers through the generations. Some were gained, some were lost, and others were passed to those worthy of bearing them, but Veyra has always remained with House Veyrath."
Seyra looked at him.
"Always?"
"Always." He turned his gaze toward the pillar. "As long as House Veyrath has existed, Veyra has watched over its bloodline."
Seyra’s little fingers tightened around his robes. "And it protects the heirs?"
Vaerun nodded. "Every heir of House Veyrath."
Seyra looked back at the pillar.
The air around it moved continuously, circling the ancient stone in great silent currents. The carvings seemed to shimmer beneath the morning light, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she could almost see countless figures within the swirling wind.
Ancestors.
Generations upon generations of Veyraths who had lived, ruled, fought, and died beneath the same guardian. It felt less like looking at a pillar...and more like looking at the memory of an entire bloodline.
Seyra’s expression slowly softened.
"It’s beautiful."
Vaerun looked down at her; she was no longer shouting, and she simply stared at the Veyra Pillar with wonder. The great white leopard lifted its head. Its burning eyes turned toward Seyra, and for a moment, the spirit and the little girl looked directly at one another.
The wind suddenly changed, and it swept gently across Seyra’s face; her violet eyes flickered to silver, only for the briefest heartbeat.
Vaerun’s gaze sharpened, but Seyra did not notice; she smiled at Veyra. The great leopard lowered its head again and around the ancient pillar; the wind continued to turn, as though the guardian of House Veyrath had silently accepted its newest heir and was ready to protect her.