[House Veyrath — Training Hall — Continuation]
Seyra was still staring at the Veyra Pillar when the great white leopard finally moved.
The elemental spirit rose from its resting place, its enormous paws soundless against the stone floor. Wind curled around its magnificent body as it began to walk toward Azram Vaerun. There was something almost divine about its movements, as though an ancient god had descended from the heavens and chosen to grace the mortal world with its presence.
The knights instinctively straightened; they may not see, but they can feel the Veyra (Air) energy whenever their master’s elemental guardian manifests in its true form.
Yet the leopard did something Azram never expected.
It passed directly by its own master, and it circled around Seyra.
The little girl stared at the enormous beast as it lowered its head toward her. Her violet eyes brightened, and she immediately reached up to pat its white fur.
"Such a big kitty you are!"
The leopard purred.
The sound rumbled through the training hall like distant thunder, yet the beast seemed perfectly content as Seyra rubbed its chin. It settled beside her, lowering its massive head until she could reach it without stretching too far.
For several heartbeats, nobody spoke, then whispers began to spread among the knights.
"Did Lady Seyra just touch the Azram’s elemental spirit?"
"She can see it?"
"Impossible. Only the Azram should be able to perceive Veyra in its manifested form."
One of the knights glanced uneasily at the white leopard.
"And does it not usually manifest when the Azram draws blood?"
"Keep your voice down, fool."
"I am keeping it down!"
"Then why can I hear you?"
Their murmurs continued, growing more bewildered by the moment. Vaerun heard every word, but he said nothing.
His silver eyes remained fixed on the little girl stroking the head of his elemental guardian, his expression unreadable beneath the bronze light spilling through the high windows.
Veyra was no ordinary elemental spirit. It was the highest manifestation of Air known to House Veyrath, a guardian bound to the bloodline and the sacred pillar that had watched over its heirs for generations.
Even among the empire’s most powerful elemental contracts, Veyra’s existence commanded reverence, yet it had passed its master without hesitation and approached a four-year-old child who, according to the Aether crystal, possessed no Aether Core at all.
Worse, it appeared perfectly content in her presence.
His gaze lingered on her small hand as she rubbed the leopard’s chin, and the tip of its tail moved lazily across the floor.
"Seyra," Vaerun’s voice carried across the training hall. "Come. I shall introduce you to the knights."
She gave Veyra one final pat before taking Vaerun’s hand. The great white leopard rose and followed them, keeping close to Seyra’s side as though it had appointed itself her personal guardian.
Vaerun noticed, and naturally, he said nothing.
The knights, however, had begun to question whether they were witnessing an ordinary morning or the beginning of some ancient prophecy.
They assembled before their Azram, men and women standing in disciplined rows beneath the towering stone arches. Their weapons varied according to their training: curved swords hung from some waists, long spears rested against others’ shoulders, while a few carried nothing more than slender daggers secured to their belts. Their dark uniforms bore the insignia of House Veyrath, and their physiques reflected years of relentless combat training.
They looked like warriors forged for battle.
Seyra looked at them as though she had stumbled into a treasure vault; her eyes travelled from one knight to another, taking in broad shoulders, powerful arms, and the unmistakable outlines of well-trained muscles.
Then she tilted her head.
"Does... everyone here have sixteen-packs?"
. . .
. . .
Silence descended upon the training hall.
A knight holding a spear slowly lowered its tip; another turned his head to look at the warrior standing beside him, as though hoping the man might possess an explanation for the question.
Vaerun looked down at his daughter.
"Can a person even have sixteen abdominal muscles?"
Seyra nodded with complete confidence. "But people in books have them."
For the first time that morning, Vaerun looked genuinely tired.
"What kind of books do you read?"
Seyra’s face lit up.
"Books with hot knights who take off their clothes!"
. . .
. . .
"CAWWW!"
A raven perched upon one of the training hall’s carved beams let out a sudden, piercing cry.
"CAWWW! CAWWW!"
The sound echoed beneath the stone arches. Vaerun stood perfectly still; his expression did not change, but something within his soul seemed to quietly abandon its post.
His four-year-old daughter, who should be reading fairytale, had just announced her reading preferences in the middle of his training hall, surrounded by his most trusted knights.
He had faced assassins with steadier nerves.
. . .
. . .
"I shall have to examine your reading material more closely."
Meanwhile, the knights had not heard their conversation clearly, though they had witnessed the exchange of expressions. They watched their Azram with barely concealed bewilderment. The man standing before them looked nothing like the ruthless commander who could silence an entire battlefield with a single order.
He looked like a father who had just discovered that raising a daughter might prove more difficult than conquering an enemy stronghold.
Vaerun ignored their curious gazes and turned his attention to the assembled warriors.
"Your training progresses well," he said, his voice returning to its customary calm authority. "Tomorrow, before sunrise, we depart for the Azrath Desert. Reports have confirmed the presence of an unknown beast. More than twenty merchants have been killed or have vanished, and the tracks discovered by our scouts suggest that the creature is unlike anything previously recorded."
The atmosphere changed at once.
The knights straightened, their earlier amusement giving way to the discipline expected of House Veyrath’s warriors.
The Azrath Desert was no ordinary stretch of sand. Its ancient ruins and treacherous wastes had swallowed caravans before, but the recent reports were troubling even by the desert’s standards.
Captain Kharzen stepped forward beside Second Captain Darian.
"We shall make the necessary preparations, Azram."
Both captains bowed.
"As you command."
Vaerun gave a single nod. "Ensure the provisions are ready before the final watch. I want the scouts’ reports reviewed again before we depart."
"Understood."
Only after the orders had been given did Vaerun glance down at the little girl beside him.
His fingers tightened gently around hers. The knights waited. Vaerun’s gaze swept across the assembled warriors, leaving no room for careless whispers or misunderstanding.
"Today, I have brought my daughter and the next heir of houw Veyrath here to introduce her to you." He paused, allowing the words to settle.
For one brief moment, the training hall seemed to lose its breath.
The knights exchanged startled glances. Some had known that the Azram had adopted a child, but hearing him formally declare her his successor was another matter entirely.
House Veyrath was one of the empire’s oldest and most powerful noble houses, its name bound to the imperial throne through generations of loyalty and bloodshed.
Its heir was not a title granted lightly, yet Vaerun had spoken without hesitation. There was no uncertainty in his voice, nor any invitation for debate; his decision had been made.
Seyra, blissfully unaware of the political shockwaves caused by her father’s declaration, raised her free hand and waved at the assembled warriors.
"Hello! I am Seyra Vaerun Veyrath."
Her cheerful greeting rang through the solemn hall; the knights stared at their new young lady, and then, one by one, they lowered themselves into a formal bow.
"Greetings, Lady Seyra Vaerun Veyrath. May the eternal winds of House Veyrath guard your path."
Seyra’s eyes widened as they had bowed to her.
All of them.
Her gaze darted toward Vaerun, and a tiny, triumphant smile appeared on her face. Perhaps being a noble wasn’t so bad after all.
Especially if it came with a hundred muscular knights, a giant white kitty, and a father terrifying enough to make the entire empire obey him.
She leaned closer to Vaerun and whispered, "Papa, can I order them to bring me snacks?"
Vaerun looked down at her.
"No."
Her shoulders slumped. "Then what is the point of being an heir?"
Somewhere behind them, Kharzen suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. Vaerun’s expression remained unchanged.
"That is precisely what you will learn."
Seyra nodded solemnly, accepting this cruel truth about noble life. However, her disappointment lasted barely three breaths before something else caught her attention.
The weapons.
Rows of polished swords, spears, and daggers glinted beneath the bronze lamps. Their edges gleamed like strips of captured sunlight, and their finely carved hilts bore the crests of the warriors who wielded them.
Seyra’s violet eyes sparkled, then, before Vaerun could anticipate the danger; she slipped from his side and hurried toward the nearest group of knights.
"Woww~~~"
The warriors looked down as the little girl stopped before them, her hands clasped behind her back and her expression full of innocent curiosity.
"Does this weapon kill people easily, or does it take a long time?"
. . .
. . .
The training hall went silent, and Seyra tilted her head.
"It looks very sharp. If you stab someone, do they fall down immediately? Or do they run around first?"
. . .
. . .
Silence.
Even the raven on the beam appeared to have lost the will to caw.
Seyra glanced from one knight to another. Nobody answered, their faces had become strangely stiff, and several seemed to be reconsidering the wisdom of allowing children into military establishments.
She looked back at Vaerun, he stood a short distance away, watching her with his usual unreadable expression.
"Did I ask something wrong Papa?"
Vaerun regarded her for a moment.
"That depends on why you wish to know."
Seyra thought about it very carefully.
"Hmm...if I ever need to defeat an enemy, I should know whether I can seperate monsters or humans head easily in single strike."
. . .
. . .
Before any one could respond, a woman stepped forward from the ranks.
She wore the dark uniform of House Veyrath, a curved sword at her waist and her dark hair braided tightly behind her head. She was tall and broad-shouldered, with the unmistakable bearing of a warrior who had earned her place through skill rather than noble birth.
She approached Seyra and lowered herself into a respectful bow.
"My lady."
Seyra blinked at her as the female knight saw the look of genuine admiration shone in her eyes. "You have already demonstrated the instincts of House Veyrath’s next heir!"
Several knights straightened and nodded.
"Indeed! An heir must understand the nature of weapons before entering the battlefield!"
"She is thinking ahead!" a third added. "Knowing how long an enemy remains dangerous is a matter of survival!"
"Precisely!" said the woman. "Our young lady is considering the consequences of combat before she has even begun her training!"
Seyra stared at them and then her face slowly brightened.
The knights looked absurdly pleased. Vaerun watched the scene in silence.
The female knight bowed and introduced herself, "Greeting my lady, I am Ishtar Khaelis, Captain of the Eastern Blade Unit. Would you like to see my weapon?"
Seyra nodded so enthusiastically that her violet curls bounced.
"Yes, please!"
Ishtar curved sword only a short distance from its sheath, keeping the blade angled safely away from the child. Sunlight slipped along its polished edge.
Seyra leaned forward, fascinated.
"Ooooh! It’s shiny~~~"
"It has been forged from tempered steel," Ishtar explained. "A warrior must maintain her weapon carefully. A dull blade can endanger its wielder as much as her enemy."
Seyra nodded as though receiving the secrets of the universe.
Then she asked, "Can I have one?"
"Of course, my lady. When you are old enough to train, the armourers can prepare a weapon suited to you."
"Can I have a little one?"
"If that is what you prefer."
"Can it be gold?"
The captain hesitated. "Gold is not the best material for a fighting blade."
Seyra looked genuinely offended on behalf of gold.
"Then can you put gold on it?"
"That can certainly be arranged. If the Azram permits it."
Seyra turned toward Vaerun at once. "Papa! I want a golden sword with jewels!"
"No."
Her face fell so quickly that the captain looked personally wounded.
"But, Papa—"
"A weapon is not an ornament."
"Then why do rich people put ornaments on everything?"
Vaerun’s gaze sharpened slightly and for one dreadful moment, the knights thought their young lady might have stumbled into a dangerous philosophical debate about noble excess.
Then Vaerun answered, "Because they have more wealth than sense."
A few knights abruptly looked away.
Seyra considered this, then she nodded with great seriousness. "I will have both."
Kharzen finally lost the battle and turned away under the pretence of inspecting the training racks.
The laughter spread quietly through the assembled warriors. It was not the careless laughter of people who had forgotten their station, but something warmer, something that had rarely found a place in the training hall before Seyra arrived. The little girl had somehow transformed their solemn gathering into a scene of cheerful chaos, and even the most rigid among the knights found themselves watching her with undisguised fondness.
Yet, beyond the gathering, the great white leopard had grown still.
Its ears turned toward the Veyra Pillar as the wind around its immense body changed.
Slowly, the guardian raised its head and fixed its gaze upon the far side of the sacred pillar, where the shadows beneath the ancient carvings seemed deeper than they should have been. For a moment, nothing stirred. The distant laughter of the knights continued to echo through the hall.
Then two blue eyes opened within the shadows.
A man stood near the pillar.
His figure seemed almost indistinguishable from the air surrounding him, his presence so faint that even the shifting light appeared reluctant to reveal his outline.
He looked toward Seyra and a faint smile touched his lips. The great white leopard immediately lowered its head and bowed.
The man said nothing. His blue gaze remained fixed upon the little girl, who was still giggling among the knights, entirely unaware that something had been watching her from beyond the reach of mortal understanding.
The leopard’s silver eyes dimmed and a whisper passed through the currents of air, so faint that no human ear could have caught it.
"The time is coming."
The man’s smile faded.
"Protect her."
For one fleeting instant, the wind swept through the training hall, stirring the hems of the knights’ garments and setting the bronze lamps trembling and beside the Veyra Pillar, the man with the blue eyes was gone.