A Dangerous Uncle.

Adalric sat comfortably in the main carriage of the convoy, his eyes closed in apparent tranquility, but his mind was far from rest. The image of Kael still lingered in his thoughts like a persistent shadow. He mentally reviewed every movement the boy had made during the confrontation with the magical beasts.

"A mage..." Adalric repeated to himself, almost ironically. He slowly opened his eyes, gazing at the interior of the carriage, though his mind was far away from there.

The way Kael manipulated the wind with near-surgical precision, the way he moved his body in sync with his magic... that was not ordinary.

He knew mages, had fought alongside and against many, and none of them exhibited such a firm, disciplined, almost... physical stance.

His sharp eyes picked up details that most would have ignored. Kael didn't have the typical physique of a mage. He wasn't hunched or awkward like many magic users who drowned in books and rituals.