The capital city of Aetherion rose like a dream — white stone spires piercing the sky, golden banners fluttering from turrets, and cobblestone streets bustling with life. It was the jewel of the kingdom, a place of splendor, secrets, and power.
Kael had never seen anything like it.
Not in this life.
Not even in the novel.
From the carriage window, he watched children dart between vendors and nobles in embroidered cloaks pass street performers without a glance. The scent of roasted meat and exotic spices drifted in through the breeze. Somewhere, church bells tolled.
And beneath it all, Kael felt the current — unseen but undeniable — of a world in motion. He wasn't just entering a city. He was stepping onto the stage.
Inside the carriage, Seren sat beside her brother Teren, whose face was locked in a mask of forced composure. Kael sat across from them, dressed in formal servant's attire — but Teren had insisted he sit with them, not ride in the rear.
It hadn't gone unnoticed.
They were greeted at the gates by a squad of silver-armored guards bearing the royal crest. Among them was a tall woman with piercing green eyes and a sharp voice.
"Lady Althea Velmire," she introduced herself, bowing curtly. "Advisor to the crown. I've been instructed to escort the new Lord Blackthorn and his household to the Royal Academy."
Teren straightened. "We're ready."
Althea's eyes lingered on Kael longer than necessary. "And who is this one?"
Teren didn't hesitate. "This is Kael. He saved our lives. He comes with us."
The woman gave a slight nod. No approval. No disdain. Just calculation.
Kael didn't flinch under her gaze. He'd read about her in the book. A secondary figure, supposedly loyal to the crown but often in the shadows of greater players. She rarely acted unless she had something to gain.
But even in the novel… she never noticed Kael.
Now she had.
********
The Royal Academy
Set on a hill overlooking the city, the Royal Academy was a fortress of knowledge and war. Towers stretched toward the sky like hungry fingers, each housing a different order — mages, strategists, diplomats, swordmasters.
This was where Rowan Everfall, the original protagonist, trained. Where he met allies and rivals. Where the plot ignited.
Kael felt his pulse quicken.
The halls were lined with students in vibrant uniforms, nobles and commoners alike. Whispered rumors followed them like shadows.
"That's the Blackthorn boy—"
"—He's younger than I expected—"
"—And the servant? Did you see the way Lady Velmire looked at him?"
Kael did his best to tune it out. He had one focus: find Rowan. Confirm whether the timeline was still intact. And stay off the radar until he knew what was changing — and who was causing it.
It didn't take long.
On the second day, while crossing a courtyard, Kael saw him.
Rowan Everfall.
He looked just like the book described — tall, dark-haired, with a presence like a storm waiting to break. He stood surrounded by a small group, laughing, the future hero of the realm.
Kael stared.
But then Rowan looked back.
Their eyes locked — just for a moment.
And Kael felt something shift.
Not recognition. Not memory.
But something deeper.
A spark.
As if the story itself had just realized: He wasn't supposed to be here.