The morning sun was pale, its light filtered through a thin curtain of frost on the window.
Orion stood near the doorway of his mother's small chamber, his hands clasped behind his back. Marn had forced him into one of those ceremonial coats, deep silver with fur lining around the neck and shoulders. It felt heavy and stiff, almost absurd on his small frame.
But he didn't bother protesting, after all, today was the day every Varyn child had their first official meeting with the family head.
'Judgement day, that's what they've been calling it,' he thought to himself.
Ten years old - the first major milestone in Elyndra, especially within the Varyn family.
It was a little young and odd, not that it mattered to Orion, who was mentally much older than a single decade.
But it was more than just a meeting; it was a tradition meant to "measure potential," as they called it, though Orion already understood what it really was: an assessment of worth.
Following the meeting, the children would be set on a path that best suited them and benefited the family. They could also make one request to the family head, which he could accept or refuse at his own discretion.
'Sounds like a hassle just to get to speak to your own father.'
Orion stepped closer to the bed. His mother's breathing was light and shallow, her white hair spread across the pillow like silk in the snow. The sight of her still made something tighten in his chest. She was paler than before - almost translucent now, her lips faintly blue, her skin cool even from where he stood.
Not cold like a sickness or the absence of warmth.
Cold like the frost mountains themselves.
He had tried to reason through it many times before, to think in medical terms - blood flow, nerve response, hypothermia - but none of that fit. This was something else, something that defied all logic. A living body at that temperature should have been a corpse.
Yet her eyes still opened when he entered, their silver-blue glow softening when they fell on him.
"Oh, Orion…" she breathed, her voice fragile but gentle. "Look at you. Where has the time gone?"
Her hands trembled as she tried to push herself up. Orion moved instinctively to support her, placing a small hand on her shoulder. She felt even colder than she looked, but he wasn't sure what to do to help her.
"You shouldn't move, Mother."
"I want to see you properly," she whispered with a faint laugh. "You look so grown up." Her fingers brushed the fur on his coat, tracing it absently. "I'm sorry I can't do more for you, my son. I should have been there for you more… should have guided you, but-"
Her voice caught.
Orion stared at her in silence.
He was never good at this part - the tears, the apologies.
In his previous life, emotions were things he'd learned to imitate, not truly feel. But now, looking at her trembling form, something stirred that he didn't quite understand.
It wasn't pity. It wasn't guilt. It was… warmth.
And that warmth scared him a little.
When he finally spoke, his voice came out steady, low. "I will make sure you get better, Mother."
Coming from a ten-year-old, it should have been a naive promise. But there was no childish tone in his words, only quiet conviction. It sounded more like an oath.
Selene blinked, taken aback by the certainty in his voice. Then, with a faint smile, she reached out and pulled him close. "Thank you, my little frostling," she murmured, ruffling his white hair.
He stood stiffly for a moment, unsure how to react, then relaxed just enough to let her hold him. Her touch was light but cold, and he could feel the faint tremor in her arms.
"You'll be meeting your father today," she said after a while, trying to sound brighter. "It's a good thing. Just stay calm, be respectful, and things will be fine."
Orion nodded slowly. "I understand."
What he didn't say was that the only thing worrying him wasn't his father's rumoured temper or expectations, it was the chance that the man might see through his Internal Dominion. Kael Varyn was supposedly one of the most powerful men in Elyndra, a warrior whose aura alone could bring people to their knees.
If he detected even a trace of ether from his son, things could get complicated very quickly, and the past decade he had lived unnoticed would all be for nothing.
Still, Orion wasn't afraid. He had prepared for this. And even if his concealment failed, he still had the Eyes of Dominion. Though realistically, he doubted they would work on his father, since he struggled to use them even on low ascendents.
But the worst-case scenario wasn't the end of the world.
'If my eyes aren't enough, then I guess I'm going to have to live as the family's talent and hope that I don't make too many enemies.'
Orion looked at Selene once more before leaving. She gave him a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You'll do wonderfully," she whispered.
He inclined his head in silence, turned, and walked toward the door. His steps were light but sure, each one echoing softly through the small chamber. Though his frame was that of a ten-year-old boy, his gait carried a quiet confidence that didn't belong to a child.
Selene watched him until he disappeared from sight. Her fingers clenched faintly around the blanket, her smile fading. The silence in the room deepened, broken only by the faint hum of the ether lamps.
Her eyes drifted to the ceiling, pale and tired. "No one can help me now, son," she whispered under her breath. "It's only a matter of time now..."
She closed her eyes and let the cold settle deeper into her bones, while her son headed off to the Inner Manor...