The tremors grew stronger as dust rose in the distance, visible now as a thin brown line against the horizon. The rhythm of hooves became distinct; hundreds of them, moving in disciplined formation. Still far off, but approaching steadily.

  Sael watched the column for a moment, then turned away. He had time before they arrived.

  He started down the hill toward where Ilsa and Orion were finishing with the deer leg. They noticed him approaching and straightened slightly as Sael stopped a few paces away.

  "I'm leaving, children," he said. "Shortly. There's a situation that needs addressing."

  Both of them went still for a moment until Orion recovered first. "Leaving? Where?"

  "East. To Valtor, near the Blackstone Range." Sael paused, considering how much to explain. "There's a... possibly Corrupted warlord. An orc. He's killed two Pillars—the Ashen Sultan and the Buried King—and is currently occupying their former territories."

  The words landed heavily. Ilsa's eyes widened. Orion's mouth opened slightly, then closed.

  "Two Pillars?" Orion repeated quietly.

  "Yes. He ate them, apparently. In front of witnesses."

  "What the fuck?" Orion blurted out.

  Sael's gaze shifted to him immediately.

  Orion went rigid, his face flushing red. "Sorry—sorry, Master, I just—" He cut himself off, looking mortified.

  But Ilsa wasn't much better. Her face had gone completely pale, and she was staring at Sael like he'd just told her the sky was falling. "He ate them?" Her voice came out higher than usual. "The Ashen Sultan? The actual Ashen Sultan?"

  "Yes."

  "And the Buried King?"

  "Also yes."

  Ilsa made a strangled noise, somewhere between disbelief and horror. She looked at Orion, who still looked like he might be sick, then back at Sael. "How is that even possible? They're—they're Pillars. They're supposed to be..."

  "Invincible?" Sael supplied.

  "Yes!"

  "They're not."

  The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Sael waited, watching their reactions. This was the moment where most people would realize the danger and understand that what he was describing wasn't an adventure or a learning opportunity but something genuinely lethal.

  Ilsa recovered first this time. "We're coming with you."

  There it was.

  Sael had expected this, but hearing it still gave him pause. "This isn't like Ashams," he said carefully. "That spiraled out of control unexpectedly. This is knowingly walking into a war zone where the enemy has already proven he can kill some of the strongest people in the world."

  "We handled Ashams," Orion said quietly, though his voice lacked conviction.

  "You survived Ashams," Sael corrected. "With significant help. And I spent half my time worrying that something might go wrong with you two despite the protections I'd placed on you."

  Orion flinched slightly at that.

  "That's not a criticism," Sael continued. "It's reality. You're both still learning."

  "We wouldn't be a burden," Ilsa insisted, her chin lifting.

  Sael studied her for a moment. Margaret's words echoed in his mind. There's no place safer than by your side.

  He looked at Orion, who was watching him with barely contained hope despite the fear still visible in his expression. Then back to Ilsa, who'd crossed her arms and was glaring at him with a sort of stubborn determination he recognized all too well.

  "You just got back," Sael said. "You nearly died in Ashams. Both of you. Are you certain you want to throw yourselves into another life-threatening situation immediately?"

  "Yes," Ilsa said without hesitation.

  Orion nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, Master."

  Sael let the silence sit for a moment, turning the decision over in his mind. That was true enough... there was probably no place safer than by his side. But was that reason enough to bring them into a battlefield where a Corrupted warlord had just eaten two Pillars?

  No. No, it wasn't.

  "I appreciate the offer," Sael said finally, his tone gentle but firm. "But no. You're staying here."

  Both of them stared at him.

  "What?" Ilsa said, her voice rising slightly. "But you said—"

  "I said this isn't like Ashams," Sael interrupted. "And I meant it. This is far more dangerous, and I can't afford to spend the entire journey worrying about whether you'll be safe. I can protect you, but I'd rather not be overthinking every possible scenario where something goes wrong while I'm trying to assess a Corrupted army."

  Orion's face fell. "Master, we can handle—"

  "You vomited after sixteen laps this morning," Sael said bluntly. "And Ilsa, you're still recovering from Ashams. Neither of you are ready for this."

  Ilsa opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. Her jaw worked for a moment, and she looked away, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

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  Orion looked like he'd been physically struck. "I... I understand, Master."

  Sael studied them both, feeling a pang of something uncomfortably close to guilt. They wanted to come and prove themselves. And part of him—the part that remembered what it was like to be young and desperate to be taken seriously—wanted to let them.

  But he couldn't.

  "This isn't a punishment," he said quietly. "And it's not because I don't think you're capable. You both have potential. But potential isn't the same as readiness, and I won't risk your lives to prove a point."

  Ilsa's shoulders slumped slightly. She nodded once, still not looking at him.

  Orion swallowed hard. "Will you... will you come back?"

  "Of course."

  "When?"

  "When it's done," Sael said. "However long that takes."

  The silence that followed was heavy. Ilsa finally looked back at him, her expression a mixture of disappointment and resignation. "Be careful," she said quietly.

  "I will."

  And with that, Sael turned and started back up the hill toward the cottage. The ground trembled again, stronger this time. Robin was still flexing his newly healed leg, looking delighted about it. Margaret remained on the swing, watching him with an expression that was difficult to read.

  "Not taking them?" she asked as he approached.

  "No."

  Margaret tilted her head slightly, considering that. "They'll be disappointed."

  "They'll be alive," Sael said. "I can live with disappointing them."

  Margaret smiled faintly. "You really are a soft touch, Grandpa."

  "Perhaps."

  Koleen cleared his throat, his relief visible. "A wise decision," he said, though his tone was careful. "They're not ready for something like this."

  Sael glanced at him. "Headmaster, would you mind looking after Orion while I'm gone? He needs to progress his physical conditioning: stamina, strength, the fundamentals. And his internal mana circulation needs work as well."

  Koleen straightened slightly, seeming pleased to be asked. "Of course. I'll make sure he keeps up with his training."

  "Thank you."

  Margaret cleared her throat from the swing. "Ilsa wanted to ask you to train her as well," she said. "For the tournament. Would you mind taking her in too, Koleen? I understand you have experience in the military as a State Mage, which means you probably have a level of knight training?"

  "Ah..." Koleen blinked, then nodded slowly. "I might be a bit rusty, but yes. I could train her as well for a while."

  Sael frowned slightly. "I thought the tournament was for mage academies?"

  "It's for mages in training and knights in training," Koleen explained. "Two categories. Combat mages in one bracket, knights in another."

  "I see," Sael said.

  He glanced toward the horizon where the tremors were growing stronger.

  The army crested the nearest rise. Cavalry first, their armor catching the sunlight. Infantry behind them, marching in formation with banners raised. The king's colors flew prominently at the front. There had to be three hundred soldiers. Maybe more.

  Sael sighed quietly.

  Sael reached into his coat and withdrew the small glass vial of cloud where wisps of white vapor swirled lazily, pressing against the cork like something alive and impatient. He worked the stopper free with his thumb.

  The cloud exhaled from the bottle in a thin stream, then expanded. It grew slowly at first, a patch of mist no larger than his palm, then doubled, tripled, spreading outward in all directions until it formed a platform roughly the size of a wagon bed. The edges softened and curled like foam on water, and the whole thing hung in the air at waist height, perfectly still.

  Sael pocketed the empty vial and stepped onto it as Margaret leaned forward on the swing, her eyes bright with interest. "You'll have to take me on a ride one of these days on that thing."

  "With pleasure," Sael said.

  "Robin," he added, glancing back. "You still want to come?"

  Robin's tail, which had been swishing lazily, picked up speed. "Yes! Of course, sir."

  He stepped onto the cloud with more confidence than he'd had the first time, though his movements were still careful, like he was testing ice that might crack. Once both feet were planted, his ears perked forward and his posture relaxed.

  Koleen stepped forward, his brow furrowing. "Archmage... are you not waiting for the army?"

  Sael turned to look at him. "No."

  There was a pause.

  And Koleen's confusion deepened. "May I ask why?"

  "Well, I don't have enough teacups for three hundred people," Sael said. "I also prefer to be notified in advance when receiving guests. It allows me to prepare mentally for social interaction and ensures I have adequate refreshments. Surprise visits like this are rude."

  Margaret laughed loudly and suddenly, seemingly caught off guard by what Sael just said. She leaned back on the swing, still grinning. "Oh, I will be more than happy to tell that to the brat's face."

  Sael nodded, completely serious. "Please also mention that I'd be willing to meet with the king at a scheduled time. I simply require notice beforehand. He can send word to arrange an appointment like a civilized person."

  "I'll make sure he understands," Margaret said, her tone suggesting she was going to enjoy every second of the conversation.

  Koleen's mouth twitched. He pressed his lips together, clearly trying to maintain his composure, but a quiet laugh escaped anyway. He shook his head, shoulders shaking slightly. "I see."

  The cloud began to rise. Slowly at first, lifting off the ground with the same unhurried pace it had grown. Sael glanced down the hill toward Ilsa and Orion, who were climbing toward them now, their conversation trailing off as they noticed what was happening.

  "Goodbye," Sael said, his voice carrying easily despite the distance. "I'll see you all soon."

  Ilsa stopped mid-step, her eyes catching on something in the distance. Her expression shifted, sharpening. "Is that—"

  She turned toward the horizon where the faint tremors had been building. Now, in the clear morning light, a dark line had appeared along the road. Dust rose in a haze above it.

  Orion caught up to her, breathing a bit harder from the climb. He followed her gaze, then went still. "That's an army."

  "The king's army," Koleen called from the hilltop. "Three hundred soldiers."

  Ilsa's head snapped toward Sael, who was already rising on the cloud. "Grandpa Sael, you're leaving now?"

  "Yes."

  "But—" She gestured toward the approaching mass. "They're coming here."

  "I know."

  Orion looked between Sael and the soldiers, his brow furrowing. "Should we—"

  "Train hard while I'm gone," Sael said. "Both of you."

  The cloud rose higher, clearing the roofline of the cottage. Robin shifted his weight, finding his balance as the ground fell away beneath them. Margaret waved from the swing, still grinning. Koleen stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  Ilsa opened her mouth like she might protest further, but whatever she'd been about to say died on her lips. She settled for crossing her arms instead, her jaw tight.

  The cloud drifted upward into the open sky, catching a breeze that didn't seem to affect its trajectory at all. The cottage grew smaller below them. The hill, the swing, the figures standing on it, all of it shrank into a neat little tableau framed by trees and distant mountains.

  Robin finally found his voice. "That was... are we really just leaving before they arrive?"

  "Yes."

  "Won't that make them angry?"

  "Probably."

  Robin considered this for a moment, then laughed quietly. "I think I like traveling with you, sir."

  Sael didn't respond to that. He kept his gaze forward, watching the landscape unfold beneath them as the cloud drifted higher.

  Then a shadow passed overhead as both of them turned at the same time. Oz descended in a wide arc, wings spread, before folding them and landing on the cloud with a soft thump. He settled near the edge, talons gripping the misty surface as if it were solid ground, and said nothing.

  Robin's tail had gone still. His eyes tracked down from Oz's beak to his chest, where dark stains marked the white feathers. "Is that blood on your feathers?"

  Oz glanced down at himself, tilting his head slightly to inspect the spots. "It is not my blood," he said after a moment.

  Robin's ears flicked back, then forward again. "Oh. I see."

  The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but it carried weight. Robin shifted his feet, decided against asking anything further, and settled into a quieter posture.

  Sael reached into his coat and drew out his pipe. He packed it methodically, cast a sparkle, and took a slow drag. The smoke curled away behind them as the cloud began to pick up speed, no longer drifting but moving with purpose now, cutting through the air toward the eastern horizon.

  Valtor and the Blackstone Range waited ahead.

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