The golden light of the setting sun bathed the citadel in warm hues as quiet began to return to its training grounds. The sounds of sparring, footsteps, and commands had faded, replaced by a peaceful stillness that settled over the vast stone walls and courtyards.
At the eastern side of the wall, near the main gate, a gentle flash of blue light appeared. The air shimmered, and from it stepped Protheus, his dark cloak fluttering slightly behind him. He looked calm but focused, his eyes scanning the citadel grounds — his citadel — with quiet pride.
The walls stood tall and strong. The towers caught the fading light like sentinels watching over the land. The once-ruined fields beyond were now enclosed, protected, and full of life. This place, still young in age, already carried the weight of great purpose.
Waiting near the entrance stood Thalion, the silver-haired golem instructor, upright and ready. His features were noble, carved in the image of an elf with long, flowing hair and eyes that glowed faintly with magic.
As Protheus approached, Thalion bowed respectfully.
"You've returned, my lord," Thalion said in his usual calm and steady tone.
"I have," Protheus replied. "Call the instructors. Gather the children. We will dine together tonight."
"As you wish."
Without delay, Thalion turned and began to cross the main courtyard. His voice, firm but clear, called out to the other instructors. One by one, they turned from their tasks. The golems moved swiftly to instruct their groups. The students, most still catching their breath after hours of training, straightened and listened.
The word spread quickly. They were to go to the grand dining hall—all of them.
Meanwhile, Protheus vanished from the courtyard in a gentle burst of light. Moments later, he appeared inside the grand kitchen at the heart of the citadel.
The kitchen was vast and glowing with activity. It was built with function and grace — long counters made of polished stone, enchanted ovens that adjusted their own heat, and floating ladles stirring thick soups in giant pots. Shelves lined the walls, filled with magical ingredients from other lands: glowing mushrooms, dried leaves that sparked when touched, and berries that shimmered like gems.
At the center of it all stood the chef golem. Shaped like a tall elven figure with smooth bronze arms and a deep green apron, its eyes glowed a soft amber. Upon its chest, the symbol of a flame cradled by leaves marked its purpose.
The golem turned and bowed slightly. "My lord."
"Begin the feast," Protheus said simply. "Make it hearty. Give them warmth and strength. And prepare something sweet. They've earned it."
The golem bowed again. "It will be done."
With a clap of its hands, the kitchen came alive. Drawers slid open on their own. Spices floated into the air. Pots simmered. The smell of roasting meats and baked bread quickly began to spread through the halls. Bowls of fruit spun gently in place as blades sliced them with smooth precision. Butter sizzled. Honey poured itself into golden glazes.
Protheus gave one last glance of approval before vanishing again, reappearing this time within the grand dining hall.
The hall was wide and tall, supported by massive stone pillars carved with vines and glowing runes. The floor was smooth and clean, shining faintly under the magical lights that hovered above like soft lanterns. Long wooden tables stretched from one end to the other, each polished and ready, with chairs neatly aligned.
In the center of the hall, a large circular fire pit burned quietly. Its flames danced, warm and bright, without smoke — a silent beacon of comfort.
Protheus stood for a moment in the stillness, looking over the place he had designed not just as a shelter, but as a home. This was where the young would grow strong, where the bonds of comradeship would form. And tonight, they would celebrate their first full day.
The doors soon opened.
Thalion was the first to enter, guiding his group. Rafael walked beside him, his sword at his side and his brow still damp from training. Mark, Maria, Carla, Vincent — all followed, talking quietly. Some were still catching their breath, others smiling with tired pride.
Instructor by instructor, the rest of the students arrived. Faelar's archers, Eryndor's heavy weapon fighters, Sylrieth's scouts and swift blades, the young mages led by Althaea and Vaelrya, and the healers brought by Sylvanna. Each group brought their own energy — some loud and laughing, others quiet and thoughtful.
They took their places, guided by steward golems dressed in dark green and silver, who gestured politely toward the tables. Plates and cups had already begun to appear before them, empty for now, waiting for the feast to begin.
At the far end of the hall, Protheus stood with arms crossed. He did not speak, not yet. He only watched, silent and steady, as his dream took form before his eyes.
The hall filled with quiet murmurs. Some of the teenagers looked around with wide eyes, taking in the tall ceilings, the carved stone walls, and the glowing crystals that lit the space with warm light. For many of them, it was the first time they had seen the grand dining hall. The long wooden tables stretched far, polished to a shine, while the empty plates before them seemed to hint at something greater to come.
Rafael leaned slightly toward Maria and whispered, "It's bigger than I imagined."
She nodded. "It feels like something out of a story."
On the far side, Erika brushed her hair back and looked to Patricia. "Is the food going to appear by magic?"
Before Patricia could answer, the side doors near the kitchen opened with a soft hum. Protheus turned slightly, eyes following the line of silver-clad golems that entered. These were the chef golems, their frames more rounded than the combat instructors, and their hands shaped with perfect precision for cooking and carrying.
They lined up quietly near the far wall, bowing toward Protheus before taking their positions near the kitchen entrance.
Protheus finally stepped forward.
The quiet hum of conversation dimmed as he walked slowly to the center of the room, his boots making soft taps against the stone floor. All eyes turned to him. The instructors stood straighter. The students grew still.
He stopped near the central table, turning to face them.
"I asked you all to come here," he began, his voice deep and calm, "not just to rest, but to recognize what you've done."
His eyes moved from one group to another — Thalion's swordsmen, Faelar's archers, Sylrieth's scouts, Eryndor's heavy fighters, the elemental mages, and the gentle healers.
"Today was your first true step," he said. "You trained. You stumbled. You got back up. That alone tells me more than words ever could."
Joshua raised his head, eyes bright. Sofia, sitting beside Angela, gave a small smile and glanced at her instructor. Even quiet Denise looked proud in that moment.
"I want to ask you," Protheus said. "How was your training? What did you learn? How did it make you feel?"
There was a long pause. Then Rafael stood up slowly. He looked nervous at first, but spoke clearly.
"I learned that my strength is far from enough," he said. "But I also learned that with time… and with Thalion's guidance… I can grow."
Thalion, standing a few steps behind him, nodded silently.
Maria stood next. "It hurt," she said honestly. "But I've never felt more alive. Every strike, every lesson… it felt like I was waking up."
More voices followed.
Mark raised a hand. "I found it hard to focus. But Faelar kept pushing me. He didn't let me give up."
Kevin gave a short laugh. "Vaelrya nearly froze me on purpose — but I deserved it. I kept hesitating."
That brought a ripple of laughter across the room, even from the instructors.
Angela leaned forward. "I liked how it felt helping others. It made me feel… important."
Clarisse stood shyly. "Lythiel told me to trust my magic. For the first time… I believed I could."
Even the quietest ones offered something. Sofia spoke softly about finding her own rhythm. Carlo mentioned how tracking through rough ground helped him focus. Abby and Carla described how Sylrieth's calm, almost silent presence made them want to move faster, train harder.
Each voice added a new note to the room — pride, struggle, surprise, joy.
Protheus listened to every word, his expression unchanged, but his eyes steady. When the last voice faded, he nodded once.
"Good," he said. "Your feelings matter. Your pain, your joy, your doubts. Carry them with you. Don't throw them away. They will shape you far more than magic ever will."
Then he raised his hand.
At once, the chef golems began to move.
Large trays floated from the kitchens, guided by soft light. Steam rose from covered platters. The rich, mouth-watering scent of roasted meat, grilled fish, baked roots, and sweet herbs filled the air. Plates filled themselves with warm bread, honeyed vegetables, and fruits that sparkled faintly from their magical growth.
The students gasped.
Angela clapped softly. Vincent leaned forward, mouth watering. Joshua blinked in disbelief as golden broth poured itself into his bowl. Liza let out a quiet "Wow…" under her breath.
Even the instructors watched with subtle approval — except Sylrieth, who gave a small grunt that might have been a smile.
"Eat," Protheus said simply. "You've earned it."
Chairs slid back, and laughter followed. Conversations sparked all over the room. Bread was torn. Cups were filled. Hands reached for fruits that glowed like small stars. For a while, it was just joy — real, loud, and unguarded.
Rafael and Joshua challenged each other to eat the spiciest stew. Clarisse accidentally knocked over her cup, and Brian caught it just in time. Patricia talked excitedly with Erika and Kevin about the different magic drills they tried. Mark sat across from Faelar, still too respectful to eat before his instructor, until Faelar finally said, "You'll need strength tomorrow too. Eat."
At the head of the room, Protheus watched.
He said nothing more. He did not eat. But he stayed, standing tall and still, his eyes moving from table to table. Every smile, every laugh, every look of relief — he saw it all. And deep within, a quiet warmth took root.
They had a long way to go.
But tonight… they were happy.
And that, for now, was more than enough.