The ride back to the Vale estate was short, but Aren's mind remained heavy.
Plans were moving.The world was shifting.And though he carried the burden without regret, he knew it was time — time to share a small part of it with those who deserved to know.
When he arrived, the estate was quiet under the settling dusk.
The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted toward him from the grand dining hall.
He followed the familiar path — stone polished by generations — and entered softly.
Inside, his family was already seated, halfway through their meal.
Selene sat at the head of the table in his place, smiling warmly as she guided the dinner chatter.Darian discussed something quietly with Lyra, while Elara and Mira poked each other across their plates with mischievous grins.
As Aren stepped in, the conversation faltered for just a heartbeat.
Every head turned toward him.
Selene's eyes softened with relief, though she masked it well.
"You're home," she said simply, motioning him to sit beside her."I asked them not to wait — you know how long these imperial summons can be."
He chuckled lightly, taking his seat.
"Smart," he said, ruffling Mira's hair as he passed by — earning a squeaky giggle.
But the laughter faded as Darian, ever observant, leaned forward slightly.
"Father," he said, his voice low but steady, "if it was just a courtesy call... they would not have sent an official summons."
Lyra nodded, her golden eyes sharp with worry.Even little Elara had gone still, sensing the tension.
Selene reached for Aren's hand beneath the table, giving it a subtle squeeze of support.
Aren smiled reassuringly — or at least, as much as he could manage.
"It's nothing that threatens us directly," he said calmly."Just politics. Plans. The usual."
None of them believed him — not fully — but they trusted him.
And so, they accepted his answer, for now.
Dinner continued, lively but slightly subdued, a gentle dance of small jokes and stolen glances.
Aren played along, laughing at Mira's exaggerated tales of school, praising Elara's improving posture, discussing estate matters lightly with Darian and Lyra.
But beneath it all, the undercurrent of unease remained.
They were a family.They knew each other too well.
After the meal, when Mira and Elara were herded off to bed by their mothers — still giggling and resisting sleep — Aren stood and motioned silently to Darian.
Selene met his eyes and followed without needing to be asked.
The three of them ascended the grand staircase and entered Aren and Selene's private study — a place rich with the scent of old books, polished wood, and memories.
Aren closed the door behind them with a soft click.
Darian stood stiffly, sensing the weight of what was coming.
Selene sat gracefully by the hearth, folding her hands in her lap, her violet eyes calm but watchful.
Aren turned to face his son — and for a moment, he said nothing.
Then he spoke — quietly, but with a force that filled the room.
"You were not informed," he said.
Darian blinked.
Aren continued.
"When the heavens sent their message — their declaration of annihilation — it was shared only with rulers of great houses. Dukes. Kings. Lords."
Darian's brows furrowed.
"I am a Grand Duke," he said.
"You are," Aren agreed."But you are young.Unproven.And they... they believe that as long as I live, you are still only a shadow."
The words hit hard — but Darian bore them without flinching.
"It is not an insult," Aren said, his voice softening."It is simply how they think."
Selene's eyes glimmered in the firelight, her face unreadable.
Aren stepped closer.
"And because of that," he said, "you were not invited into their councils. You were not trusted with their secrets."
He placed a firm hand on Darian's shoulder.
"But now... that changes."
Darian straightened instinctively.
Aren's golden eyes burned — not with anger, but with pride.
"I will be leaving soon," he said."For a meeting.The first gathering of what will become the Circle of Guardians."
He explained quickly:
The acceptance of the alliance by dragons, demons, elves, dwarves, and others.
The creation of a council to defend the world together.
The importance of the Floating Island — a neutral place in the skies, chosen by the Dragon Emperor.
The binding of all races under a single cause: survival.
Darian listened silently, absorbing every word.
"And while I am away," Aren said, his voice firm, "you will act in my stead."
Darian's eyes widened slightly.
"You will oversee preparations," Aren continued."Quietly. Carefully.Begin stockpiling supplies — water, food, tools, medical equipment.Secure defensive positions across our territories without drawing attention.Create redundancies."
He smiled grimly.
"Prepare for a war that may not wait for formal declarations."
Darian bowed his head, fists clenched.
"I will not fail you, Father."
Aren squeezed his shoulder once — a rare gesture of intimacy.
"I know," he said simply.
For a moment, the room was filled with only the crackle of the fire.
Then Selene rose gracefully, moving to Aren's side.
Together, they stood before their son —Not as distant legends.Not as untouchable heroes.
But as a mother and father preparing their child for the storm.
"You are not alone," Selene said gently.
Darian looked up — and smiled, small but fierce.
"I know," he said.
The world outside the estate gates shifted, unseen.
Armies moved.Schemes unfurled.The heavens stirred.
But inside these walls — inside the home built by blood, laughter, and love —The Vale family prepared to defy destiny itself.
Together.