The old stone path felt smaller than Nerion remembered.
He walked past the outer gardens, the Soul-Bound tending to the hedges with quiet precision. A few servants paused as he passed—one nodded politely, another gave a slight smile. No big announcement. No trumpets or flags. Just home. The place where everything felt real again.
The manor stood just as it always had—tall, worn in places, but solid. No needless polish. No glass chandeliers. The Ophireins didn't need that kind of shine.
He pushed open the front doors and stepped into the entry hall. The scent hit him instantly—wood polish, parchment, and something faintly herbal. Maybe his mother's tea again.
A quiet hum echoed from deeper inside. Someone was talking.
Nerion followed the sound into the main hall. There she was—Seraphine. Sitting sideways on one of the long benches, one leg up, flipping through a worn spellbook. Her long black hair was tied back in a rough knot. No armor on, just her usual padded undershirt and fingerless gloves. Looked like she hadn't moved all morning.
Nerion leaned against the doorway and gave a low whistle.
Her head snapped up. She blinked.
"…Nerion?" she said, squinting. "Is that you under all that hair?"
He smirked. "Missed me?"
Seraphine raised an eyebrow. "I was about to call a damn groundskeeper to trim that mess. What the hell happened to your head?"
"Decided to grow it out. Thought it added mystique."
"You look like a lost bard who forgot how to rhyme."
He laughed, stepping inside. "Still better than your last haircut. You looked like you fought a lawn mower and lost."
Seraphine grinned and stood. She crossed the room and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder—firm, not sentimental.
"You've gotten taller," she said, looking him over. "Skinnier too."
Nerion chuckled and looked around. "Where's everyone else? I figured Riven or Aelric would be the first to tackle me through a window."
Seraphine tilted her head. "They're around. I think Riven's out back trying to out-stare Kael'thar again. And Aelric's probably In tower .'"
Nerion raised an eyebrow as he looked around the mostly quiet hall. "Why are you here, anyway? Thought you basically lived in the Tower now."
Seraphine shrugged, flipping her spellbook shut with one hand. "Thought I'd take a little break. Rest the brain, stretch the spine, you know."
He smirked. "You? Taking a break? Did the Tower collapse?"
She rolled her eyes. "Funny. Even I need to breathe sometimes. And besides—figured I'd come see how the famous test-topper is doing before he turns into some fancy academy brat."
Seraphine leaned her elbow on the armrest, giving him a once-over. "So… you ready?"
Nerion blinked. "For what?"
"The Academy," she said, like it was obvious. "New people, new egos. You're gonna be surrounded by kids who've been training since they could walk. Think you can handle it?"
He shrugged. "I'll find out soon enough."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's it? No dramatic speech? No 'I've trained my whole life for this'?"
He smirked. "I've trained enough to not embarrass myself. That's step one."
Seraphine chuckled. "Fair enough. Just don't go picking fights on your first day."
"No promises," he said, hands in his pockets.
Seraphine narrowed her eyes, suddenly thoughtful. "Wait… you haven't even entered the Tower yet, have you?"
Nerion shook his head. "Nope."
She leaned forward. "Seriously?"
He sighed. "Yeah. Everyone kept saying, 'Do this first, train that skill, fix your stance, don't go in blind or you'll die in the first ten seconds'… so here I am. Still not in."
Seraphine snorted. "Classic. Too many opinions, not enough entry."
"Exactly," he muttered. "Felt like I needed to unlock a whole checklist just to walk through the damn door."
Seraphine raised an eyebrow, her tone turning curious. "Then you must've trained your three skills by now, right?"
Nerion nodded once. "Yeah."
She gave him a sideways glance. "Confident with them now?"
He leaned back slightly, thinking for a moment. "I don't know if I'd call it confidence… but I trust them. They're mine now. They move when I move."
Seraphine smirked. "That's a fancy way of saying 'I'm not completely trash anymore.'"
He grinned. "Exactly."
Seraphine stood up, stretching slightly. "Wanna try them?" she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.
Nerion blinked. "What do you mean by that?"
She chuckled "You've got your skills now, right? Let's see if you can put them to the test."
Seraphine raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, if you're up for it, we could always head to the family dungeon. Test your skills there, see how you hold up."
Nerion hesitated for a moment, the thought of facing the dangers of a dungeon sparking both excitement and a hint of nervousness. "A dungeon? Are you sure you want to drag me into one of those now?"
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? It'll be a good way to see if you've got what it takes. Plus, it's not like we're going in blind. It's just a small one, controlled."
Nerion paused, considering the offer. "Alright, but if I end up getting us both killed, I'm blaming you."
Seraphine's smile widened. "Deal. Let's see if all that training of yours has paid off."
As they walked toward the estate gates, Nerion glanced at his sister's casual outfit — light clothes, no armor, no gear — and frowned. "So… we're just going like this? No armor, no prep, nothing?"
Seraphine looked over with a grin. "You have your Soul Weapon, don't you?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah… I do."
"Then it's fine," she said, stretching her arms behind her head with zero concern. "I don't need anything else."
Nerion raised an eyebrow. "You're way too relaxed about this."
She laughed. "That's because I'm not the one being tested today."
Nerion and Seraphine walked together through the family keep, down stone halls and past guards and servants who gave respectful nods. They didn't talk much — just the soft sound of boots on stone and the occasional quiet exchange as they moved through familiar paths.
After about an hour, they passed through the city streets. The noise of daily life surrounded them — carts rolling, people shouting, metal clashing in workshops. It felt normal, but Nerion noticed how many eyes followed Seraphine. She didn't seem to care.
They finally reached the far side of the city, where a guarded military camp stood near an old stone building. Rows of tents, training dummies, and stacks of weapons surrounded the area. Soul-bound soldiers moved in squads, some drilling with blades, others checking gear.
"This is it," Seraphine said, nodding toward the entrance. "Our dungeon."
Nerion looked at the thick gate, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. The air here felt heavier. Focused.
Seraphine stretched her shoulders. "You ready?"
He glanced at her, then at the gate again.
"Guess we'll find out."
They approached the gate — tall, dark, reinforced with layers of some strange metal Nerion didn't recognize. A pair of guards stood beside it, armored and alert, but when they saw Seraphine, they straightened and stepped aside without a word.
"Perks of being family," she said casually, glancing at Nerion.
Inside the gate was a small chamber lit with blue crystals embedded in the walls. In the center stood a circular platform, slightly raised, and hovering above it was a shimmering portal — pale white and swirling like mist trapped in glass.
Nerion slowed his steps as they neared the platform. The magic in the air was thick. It buzzed lightly under his skin, just enough to remind him this wasn't some training simulation.
Seraphine looked back at him with a smirk. "Still with me?"
He nodded, jaw tight. "Yeah."
She stepped onto the platform first. "Good. Because once we step through—" She tapped the edge of her boot on the stone. "—no backing out."
Nerion took a breath, then joined her.
The portal pulsed.
And then—