Chapter 17: A Home Not Quite the Same

The Zenith estate stood in quiet dignity beneath the twilight sky. The training fields, once a place where Aldrian honed his swordsmanship under his father's silent gaze, now seemed distant—almost foreign. The halls, polished to perfection, the faint scent of tea drifting from the kitchens, and the warm glow of lanterns felt familiar, yet… detached.

Aldrian stepped through the grand doors, his boots clicking against the polished stone.

He was home.

And yet, a part of him remained in the Nightmare Realm.

The moment he crossed the threshold, his mother's voice broke the silence.

"Aldrian!"

Before he could react, warm arms wrapped around him. His mother's embrace was tight, as if she feared he might disappear if she let go. Elena Zenith, with her deep ocean-blue eyes, the same ones Aldrian had inherited, held him close, her heartbeat fast against his chest.

For her, only a few moments had passed since the ceremony. But Aldrian had lived through days of torment, isolation, and bloodshed.

She pulled back, hands cupping his face, her gaze searching his own.

"You're alright… aren't you?" she whispered, brushing back strands of his dark hair.

Aldrian hesitated. He had faced nightmare wraiths, abyssal husks, and death itself, yet… telling his mother the truth seemed impossible.

So he did what he had always done when she worried too much.

He offered a small smile.

"I'm fine, Mother."

Her eyes narrowed. She wasn't convinced. But before she could press further—

"Aldwian!"

A tiny voice squeaked from the hallway, followed by the rapid pitter-patter of small feet.

Lyra.

His little sister came barreling toward him, her small arms stretched out as she nearly tripped over herself in excitement. She couldn't quite pronounce his name yet, always adding a "w" where there wasn't one.

Aldrian barely had time to kneel before she crashed into him, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

"You're back!" she giggled, clinging onto him like a baby koala. "Big Bwother's back!"

Aldrian felt his chest tighten—not in pain, but in something he hadn't felt since stepping into the Nightmare Realm. Warmth.

She smelled of lavender and the faint traces of honeyed sweets, no doubt sneaking snacks when the servants weren't watching.

For a moment, he forgot the abyss, the darkness, the suffocating fear. He was just Aldrian, Lyra's older brother.

A gentle hand ruffled his hair.

His father, Cedric Zenith, stood behind them. A man of few words, with sharp silver eyes and a presence that commanded attention without needing to raise his voice.

He studied Aldrian carefully. Unlike his mother, he didn't ask questions. He simply looked.

And Aldrian knew—his father saw it.

The change.

The silent weight in his posture. The slight way he tensed, as if expecting an attack. The subtle shift in his breathing, conditioned by battle.

Cedric didn't speak immediately. Instead, he gave a slight nod. Not of approval or expectation—just acknowledgment.

That was enough.

The Zenith estate was still the same. The world around him had not changed.

But Aldrian had.

As night settled, he found himself staring out of his window.

Lyra stirred beside him, murmuring in her sleep as she curled closer, her small hand clutching the fabric of his tunic. He exhaled slowly, shifting just enough to pull the blanket over her tiny frame before sliding out of bed.

The cold air kissed his skin as he moved toward the window. His reflection stared back at him, but the man in the glass was not the same one who had left for the ceremony.

His mother had always told him his ocean-blue eyes carried depth, like the endless tides, just like hers.But tonight, the depths holding something deeper, something unseen by those around him.

The world believed he had failed the ceremony. That he had gained nothing.

Yet the truth whispered in the back of his mind.

[Eclipse System Activated.]

[Title Granted: Eclipse's Chosen.]

It was real.

The Nightmare Realm had not been a mere trial—it had been a gateway. A threshold into something far beyond what this world understood. And he had stepped through.

Aldrian clenched his hand into a fist. He could feel it now, the faint hum beneath his skin, as if something dormant yet watchful stirred within him. The absence of the Eclipse Blade at his side should have made him feel incomplete. Instead, it was the opposite.

It was no longer a weapon he held.

It was a part of him.