[Midnight—House Veyrath—Seyra’s Chamber]
Moonlight spilled through the carved lattice windows, casting pale geometric patterns across the chamber’s sandstone walls. Bronze lamps burned low beside the bed, their flames trembling whenever the night wind slipped through the curtains. Beyond the windows, House Veyrath lay quiet beneath the star-filled sky.
Seyra slept peacefully beneath her embroidered blanket, one small hand curled beside her cheek. Her violet hair spread across the pillow, and her lips parted slightly with each gentle breath.
Beside her bed stood a great white leopard.
It lowered its head and sniffed the sleeping child, its silver eyes studying her with an attention it rarely granted anyone other than its master. It circled the bed once before settling beside it, its enormous body curling protectively near the little girl’s feet.
Azram Vaerun Veyrath watched the scene in silence and mumbled, "He likes her."
"Pardon me, Azram?"
The voice came from behind him. Assistant Ravian stood near the doorway, looking as though he had already begun regretting every decision that had brought him into the chamber.
Vaerun regarded him with an unreadable expression.
"Why are you in my daughter’s chamber at this hour?"
Ravian froze, and for a moment, he appeared to consider whether pretending to be a decorative pillar might save his life.
"Azram... you instructed me to follow you."
Vaerun stared at him, and Ravian’s confidence evaporated.
"I mean, I followed you here, Azram. I did not intend to enter Lady Seyra’s chamber without permission. I merely—"
"You merely forgot where you were standing?"
"No, Azram!"
"Then explain why you are standing inside my daughter’s chamber at midnight."
Ravian went silent and dumbfounded, then bowed so quickly that he nearly struck his forehead against his own chest.
"I apologize, Azram. I shall wait outside."
"See that you do."
Ravian retreated toward the doorway with the caution of a man escaping a den of hungry lions.
Beside the bed, Maid Mira pressed her lips together; she had been standing quietly near Seyra, ensuring that the child remained covered beneath her blanket, and had witnessed the entire exchange. When Ravian finally disappeared into the corridor, a small chuckle escaped her.
Vaerun turned toward her, and then his expression changed almost imperceptibly as he looked at Seyra.
The little girl had shifted in her sleep, her blanket slipping from one shoulder. Vaerun reached down and drew it back into place. Then he carefully brushed a stray lock of violet hair away from her cheek.
For a moment, his hand lingered near her face.
He had never needed to worry about someone waiting for him to return home or needed to consider whether his absence might leave another person lonely, frightened, or uncertain of their place in the world.
Now, he had a daughter.
Vaerun glanced at Mira.
"My daughter is not to feel neglected while I am away."
Mira’s expression softened. "I shall ensure that Lady Seyra is well cared for, Azram."
"Her meals and daily routines are to be maintained. She is not to wander beyond the manor grounds without an escort, and no one is to deny her reasonable requests merely because I am absent."
"Understood."
Vaerun’s silver eyes narrowed slightly.
"And if she is frightened, ill, or distressed, I am to be informed immediately. I do not care what hour it is."
"Of course, Azram."
He paused, then added in the same calm tone he might have used to order the execution of a traitor.
"If my daughter feels neglected because you have failed in your duties, I shall kill you and your entire family."
. . .
. . .
Mira blinked, then, with the composure of a woman who had worked in House Veyrath long enough to understand that such threats were rarely delivered for dramatic effect, she bowed.
"I shall keep that in mind, Azram." Mira glanced at the sleeping girl, then back at her master. "Lady Seyra will be loved and cared for in your absence. You have my word."
Vaerun studied her for a moment before giving a single nod.
He trusted Mira’s loyalty, then he turned back to the bed and mumbled, "I shall return soon."
Seyra was far too busy sleeping to concern herself with her father’s departure or the small army of people he had apparently threatened on her behalf.
Vaerun gently tucked the blanket beneath her chin, then he straightened, his expression settling once more into the cold composure known throughout the empire.
He crossed the chamber and stepped into the corridor, where Ravian was still waiting with his hands clasped before him.
Vaerun stopped; his gaze travelled over the assistant.
"You’re still here."
Ravian nearly swallowed his tongue.
"Azram!"
Vaerun walked down the dim corridor, the hem of his dark robe brushing against the polished stone. Bronze lamps illuminated the carved walls, where ancient reliefs depicted the victories and sacrifices of House Veyrath’s ancestors.
"Follow me," he ordered.
Ravian immediately fell into step behind him.
"Yes, Azram."
Neither spoke for several moments. Only the quiet sound of their footsteps echoed through the manor.
Then Vaerun spoke without looking back.
"We depart for the Azrath Desert before sunrise. I want the final reports on the missing merchants, the beast’s tracks, and the condition of the affected trade routes ready before we leave."
"They have been assembled, Azram. I will deliver them to your study."
"And the investigation into the orphanage?"
Ravian’s expression grew serious.
"This is why I came to you tonight, Azram."
Vaerun stopped walking.
The corridor lay quiet around them, its sandstone walls illuminated by the low flames of bronze lamps. He turned toward his assistant and noticed the tension in his face. Ravian was not a man who easily lost his composure, and he certainly did not interrupt his master’s preparations without a reason.
Vaerun’s silver eyes narrowed.
"Speak."
Ravian hesitated for a moment before answering. "We have found no details concerning Lady Seyra’s birth in the orphanage records. There is no name for either parent, no record of a family bringing her there, and no account of her being abandoned by anyone."
Vaerun’s brow furrowed.
"The orphanage parchment contains only one statement: A female child was found at the gates and admitted into the orphanage. There is no date of birth, no place of origin, and no name recorded for whoever discovered her."
Ravian paused, choosing his next words carefully.
"We initially assumed her parents had died or that someone had abandoned her after their deaths. However, we searched the records of births and deaths across the surrounding settlements for the past four years. We found no woman recorded as having died in childbirth under circumstances that matched Lady Seyra’s arrival. Nor did we find any family who had reported a missing infant."
Vaerun’s expression remained still, but the air around him seemed to grow colder.
"Every child born during that period has an identifiable record," Raviel continued. "Those whose parents died were taken in by relatives or registered with the local authorities. Those who were abandoned were documented. Yet Lady Seyra appears in none of those records."
He lowered his voice.
"It is as though she arrived at the orphanage without ever having been born."
For several moments, neither man spoke. Vaerun’s gaze sharpened.
"That is an absurd conclusion; children do not appear from thin air."
"Of course not."
"Then find the truth instead of offering me riddles."
Ravian bowed his head. "I intend to, Azram, but there is something else."
Ravian reached inside his robe and withdrew a folded parchment. Unlike the ordinary records recovered from the orphanage, this one bore the seal of an official authority. The edges had yellowed with age, and several lines of faded ink ran across its surface.
He offered it to Vaerun with both hands.
"You must examine this yourself."
Vaerun accepted the parchment and unfolded it beneath the nearest bronze lamp; his eyes moved across the writing, and then his expression changed.
The silver in his eyes seemed to harden as he stared at the document, his fingers tightening around its edges.
"This is..." His voice fell into a low murmur. "A death record?"
Ravian nodded.
"Yes, Azram, it’s Lady Seyra’s death record."
. . .
. . .
Silence swallowed the corridor.
The distant flame of a bronze lamp flickered, casting shifting shadows across Vaerun’s face. He looked down at the parchment again, as though the words might rearrange themselves into something less impossible.
His daughter had been declared dead.
Vaerun raised his gaze. Ravian drew a slow breath.
"According to the record, Lady Seyra was found unresponsive and believed to have died while under the orphanage’s care. The officials were summoned, and preparations were made to bury her, but before the burial could take place, she awoke.
Vaerun did not move.
"Awoke?"
"Yes, Azram. The orphanage staff claimed she had been dead. They had examined her and found no signs of life. Yet she suddenly began breathing again, and shortly in a few days, she fled the orphanage."
Vaerun’s gaze returned to the death parchment.
The document carried the marks of official registration. There was a recorded date, the designation of the orphanage, and the signature of the authority who had confirmed the child’s death.
It was not an idle rumor written on a scrap of paper.
Vaerun’s jaw tightened as he looked down at the parchment once more.
He had accepted her impossible ability to see and touch Veyra, despite having no detectable Aether Core. He had already suspected that something about his daughter lay beyond the knowledge of ordinary scholars.
But this was a child who had no verifiable birth record, whose parents could not be identified, and whose death had been officially documented before she somehow returned to life?
Vaerun folded the parchment with deliberate care.
"Does anyone else know of this document?"
"Only those involved in the investigation, Azram. They have been ordered to remain silent."
Vaerun slipped the death parchment inside his robe, his expression once again settling into its familiar, unreadable calm.
"End the investigation."
Ravian stared at him.
"Azram? But we have barely begun to uncover the truth. We do not know who Lady Seyra’s parents are, how she came to be at the orphanage, or why her death was recorded. If someone deliberately concealed her identity—"
Vaerun turned, his silver eyes settled upon his assistant, cold enough to silence the words on Raviel’s tongue.
"She is my daughter now."
The declaration was quiet, yet it carried the finality of an imperial decree.
"Whether she appeared from thin air, was born beneath a king’s roof, or crawled out of some forgotten tomb makes no difference to me." His gaze hardened. "I do not care who she was before she came to House Veyrath. I do not care what she is, nor what secrets she carries."
He took one measured step forward.
"She is Seyra Veyrath, my daughter, and she is the next heir of this house. That is her identity."
Ravian fell silent.
Vaerun’s voice remained calm, but there was something absolute beneath it, something that left no room for argument.
"No forgotten record, no death parchment, and no revelation concerning her birth will alter that fact. I gave her my name. I accepted her into my house. I will not permit a dead child recorded on an old parchment to become more important than the living daughter waiting for me."
For several moments, Ravian could only look at his master.
He had served Vaerun Veyrath long enough to understand the man’s temperament. The Azram did not make decisions carelessly, nor did he abandon a question simply because its answer proved inconvenient. Once Vaerun began an investigation, he pursued it until every hidden truth had been dragged into the light.
Yet now, faced with the greatest mystery surrounding Seyra, he had chosen to stop, not because he feared the truth but because he had already decided that the truth would not change his daughter.
Ravian lowered his head and released a quiet sigh.
"I understand, Azram. I shall end the investigation immediately."
Vaerun gave no response.
He turned and continued down the corridor, his dark robes moving with measured grace beneath the bronze lamps. Beyond the manor gates, the preparations for their departure to the Azrath Desert were already underway. Before sunrise, he would ride into the wastes to confront an unknown beast that had left merchants dead or missing.
But before all else, he had settled the matter that concerned him most.
Seyra belonged to House Veyrath and House Veyrath did not abandon its own. Ravian remained where he stood, watching his master’s retreating figure.
After a moment, a faint smile touched his face.
So that is how it is.
Ravian lowered his gaze, his smile growing warmer.
"Even if my lady turns out to be a monster," he murmured to the empty corridor, "the Azram will still stand beside her, and would probably stand in front of her and kill whatever dared to call her one."
Its nobles feared the Silent Tempest. Its enemies dreaded his name. Its warriors obeyed his commands without question and now, that same terrifying man had found something he valued more than the mysteries of the empire.
A little girl who called him Papa.
Ravian glanced toward the distant chamber where Seyra slept, then bowed his head before following his master. By dawn, the Azram of House Veyrath would ride into the Azrath Desert.