Golden sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows of the Virellia estate, casting a warm glow over the vast marble hall. In its center stood Seraphina—calm, composed, and quietly radiant in her training robes. Her silver hair shimmered softly as she looked up at the towering throne where her father, Lord Virellia, sat in silence.
Then he stood.
"Seraphina," his deep voice echoed through the hall, "you have reached the Third Tier of Swordsmanship. For your age, that alone would earn applause from any noble house."
She bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Father."
"But House Virellia does not raise children for praise. It raises successors."
Each of his words carried weight, authority. He descended the steps with slow, deliberate steps, eyes never leaving his daughter.
"Your birthday approaches. And with it, your first rite of passage as the heir. That means not a gift, but a test."
Seraphina met his gaze directly.
"You will enter the Tier-Three Dungeon beneath East Ridge, and you will face it alone."
A quiet hush seemed to fall over the hall, though no one else had spoken.
"You must conquer it—not merely survive it. If you do, you will be allowed to choose one treasure from the Virellia Vault. A relic from our family's legacy. That treasure will be yours for life, bound to your soul, and presented on your birthday."
Her hands tightened briefly at her sides, but her voice remained steady.
"I understand."
Lord Virellia studied her for a moment, then said, more quietly now, "You will go alone… but you will not be without protection."
He turned slightly, his tone shifting.
"Your mother will be there. She will observe, but only act if absolutely necessary."
From behind the stone columns, a figure stepped forward. Her presence was calm—almost serene—but the air around her carried faint warmth, the unmistakable hum of power beneath control.
Seraphina's mother.
Tall and elegant, she wore a flowing robe of deep violet, etched with silver glyphs that shimmered faintly with magic. Her eyes, sharp and clear, met Seraphina's without a word. She didn't need to speak. Her presence alone was assurance enough.
"A mage of her caliber is not easily moved," Lord Virellia said. "But if anything beyond expectation occurs, she will intervene."
Seraphina felt a flicker of emotion—somewhere between respect and pressure.
To be watched by her father, judged by the retainers, and silently guarded by one of the most powerful mages in the duchy—her mother—was no small trial.
"You leave at dawn," Lord Virellia declared. "Prepare yourself."
Seraphina bowed deeply. "Yes, Father."
As she turned to leave, she felt her mother's gaze linger on her back.
Not warm.
But not cold either.
Just quietly... there.
My test begins tomorrow. But the path to becoming more than a child of this house—begins now.
To be continued