Shadows Of The Past

The air was thick with the weight of an old rivalry as the Varian clan made their arrival at the Raelith estate. Elias stood hidden in the shadows of the courtyard, his heart pounding as he watched Lord Edgar Varian—a man whose mere presence seemed to warp the air around him—speak with his father.

"Dorian, it's unfortunate. Your clan once stood among us, yet now..." Edgar trailed off with a smirk. "Perhaps it's time to accept your place. The Raelith name carries no weight anymore."

Elias's fists tightened, his nails digging into his palms as rage burned within him. The Varians had robbed them of their land, their influence, and now they had the audacity to stand in their home, mocking them. He wanted to tear Edgar down, to show him that the Raelith name was far from dead. But for now, his strength was nothing more than an ember, barely flickering in the darkness.

Lord Edgar Varian's smile was cold, a predator savoring the fear of its prey. His gaze, sharp enough to cut steel, flicked toward Dorian, the mockery in his voice barely concealed. "Dorian, it's unfortunate. Your clan once stood among us, yet now..."

"We will rise again," his father said, but there was a note of bitter determination in his voice. His words were an empty echo of a past that had long since slipped through their fingers. The Varians had crushed their spirits, and now Dorian clung to the last vestiges of hope.

Edgar chuckled lightly. "If you say so. I hear your son is attending the academy this year. It would be a shame if he embarrassed himself further."

Elias's eyes burned with determination, his gaze unwavering. He wouldn't just attend the academy. He would dominate it.

And when the time came, he would ensure the Varians regretted ever underestimating a Raelith. Not as a noble, but as a force they could never reckon with.