22

A year had passed since the boy had claimed his name—Aristellus. His small voice had resonated through the air, leaving the gathered adults momentarily stunned. Archion Soru'draigg's expression morphed from shock to anger, his fists clenching as his eyes narrowed. The weight of the boy's words hung in the air, defying the traditions of the Soru'draigg clan, traditions not easily challenged. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken condemnation, a collective understanding of the gravity of the boy's declaration. Aristellus had unknowingly, or perhaps deliberately, crossed a line, and the consequences loomed ominously.