Chapter 19: A Complicated Choice

The silence in my luxurious chamber within the Lunar Tower tonight was heavier and more cutting than ever before. The echoes of my quarrel with Lyra from the day before still rang in my ears—her words, her defense of that street-schooled scholar, her unwavering support for that overgrown wilderness, as if it held more value than our friendship. The thought alone made my blood boil, a seething mixture of anger and betrayal.

Lyra… the friend I once believed to be my closest ally, had proven herself a fool—easily swayed by the flowery rhetoric of those nature-obsessed zealots. She had betrayed me! Betrayed our class, betrayed my trust! The thought churned within me, relentless, driving away any hope of rest.

I leaned back against the velvet cushions of my chair, my gaze locked onto the flickering blue magical flames in the hearth. At first, I had felt only mild pity for Caelen Stonehand, as courtesy dictated. But the moment Lyra chose to side with our enemies—those who sought to disrupt the order and progress Lord Thorn was striving to uphold—my perspective began to shift.

That wretched Elara Meadowlight… Who was she? No one knew her origins. She had appeared out of nowhere, spreading chaos, distorting facts, and inciting the ignorant masses against Lord Thorn—against the very order that sustained our civilization. She had to have a hidden agenda. Perhaps she was a spy from a rival kingdom, or an outcast witch seeking to exploit the forest's power for some dark purpose. And Lyra… she had fallen for her deceit.

But Caelen Stonehand—he was different. He was not some nameless insurgent like Meadowlight. He came from the Stonehand lineage, an old noble house. Though his family had fallen from grace, noble blood still ran in his veins. The confiscation of his ancestral lands by Lord Thorn's decree… it troubled me. It felt improper—unbecoming of the traditions that bound our nobility together.

Perhaps this situation was more complex than I had thought. A realization crept into my mind—had Lord Thorn overstepped in his treatment of the Stonehand family?

This growing unease, coupled with my desire to prove Lyra wrong and my own curiosity, led me to a decision. I would investigate Caelen Stonehand's plight further—not out of trust, but to understand the situation from the perspective of our kind, the nobility.

The next day, I spent hours in the most secluded and silent sections of the Grand Royal Archives, poring over ancient records, noble lineage documents, and historical accounts inaccessible to commoners. My family name, Vanya, granted me such privileges. The elder archivist bowed respectfully before leading me to shelves lined with dusty tomes and brittle scrolls.

I began with the history of House Stonehand. What I found surprised me. They were not merely land-owning nobles; they had once held the title of Wardens of the Wild Borders, a role passed down through generations. Old legends spoke of an Oath—a forgotten covenant between their lineage and the forest itself. Superstitious nonsense, perhaps, but it hinted at a bond that had been severed by the current regime's ambitions.

Next, I turned to the legal records regarding the confiscation of their lands. At first glance, the court ruling seemed justified. But when I discreetly used my family's connections to access unofficial transcripts of the trial, I uncovered irregularities—rushed proceedings, dismissal of key evidence from the Stonehand side without valid reason, and most troubling of all, a judge's signature that appeared to have been influenced by a higher authority.

The more I uncovered, the more uneasy I became. Caelen Stonehand was not just a reckless troublemaker—he was a victim of injustice, of a power growing unchecked. Lord Thorn's rule was no longer merely about progress; it was threatening the very principles that upheld noble society.

And then there was her. Elara Meadowlight. She was exploiting this situation! Using Caelen's suffering as fuel for her movement, stirring dissent, and threatening the kingdom's stability. She did not care about the Stonehand family's rights—only about dismantling the structures that upheld our world. My hatred for her burned fiercer than ever. She was the real danger.

After days of research, my path became clear.

Lyra may have been a fool to align herself with that wretched forest-witch, but the root of this conflict lay in the mistreatment of House Stonehand. If I wished to combat the chaos that Meadowlight was sowing and preserve the rightful order of the nobility, then aiding Caelen Stonehand might be the best course of action.

He was brash, reckless, and far from an ideal ally. But he was noble-born. He had been wronged. And he was fighting for something that, by our traditions, was rightfully his. Supporting him meant upholding what was just, balancing Lord Thorn's unchecked authority, and—most importantly—proving to Lyra that I understood the truth far better than she ever could.

I would not resort to the crude, underhanded tactics of Meadowlight's kind. But I would use what I had—my mastery of protective magic, my family's resources, and my influence within high society—to assist Caelen from the shadows. I would ensure he fought with honor and reclaimed what was his by birthright.

I reached for a quill and parchment, no longer writing a letter of resentment to Lyra, but instead drafting a secret missive to Caelen Stonehand. An offer of support from an anonymous benefactor who understood and sympathized with his cause.

This was my choice—one fraught with danger and moral intricacies. But I was certain it was the right one.

Right for me.

Right for our class.

And right for confronting the true threat—Elara Meadowlight and the chaos she sought to unleash.