A Banner Torn (Book 1 Complete)

Kaelid:

The guest quarters they had been assigned were luxurious by any standard Kaelid could imagine. Thick carpets covered polished stone floors, and tapestries depicting pastoral scenes hung from the walls. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across furniture that probably cost more than most families in Aldermere earned in a year. Yet despite the comfort, none of them had slept well.

Rannek sat on the edge of his bed, still in the clothes he had worn to meet the Duke. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. Kerethin occupied the chair by the window, her teacher's posture maintained even in exhaustion, though worry lines around her eyes spoke of a sleepless night spent considering their options.

"I keep thinking about what he said," Rannek murmured. "About the game noticing us."

Kaelid nodded, understanding completely. The Duke's words haunted his restless night. "We can't go back to how things were."

"The Praxis wants to turn us into weapons," Rannek said, his voice flat with exhaustion. "That's not even a real choice, is it? After what we saw there, how they treated that bound consciousness."

"No," Kaelid agreed firmly. "I won't let them do that to us. Or to anyone else if I can help it."

Kerethin leaned forward in her chair, her expression grave. "What you witnessed there... it confirms everything we feared about their methods. They see consciousness as a resource to be harvested, not something deserving of respect."

They had all seen enough of the Praxis's methods to know what that path would mean. Clinical examinations, endless tests, their abilities pushed and prodded until they broke or became something unrecognizable. The memory of the crystalline spider, its trapped consciousness screaming silently in pain, made Kaelid's stomach turn.

"So it's really between the Duke's collection and the Collegium," Rannek continued, running his hands through his disheveled hair. "Protection versus education."

"The Duke seemed... lonely," Kaelid observed. "As if he collects people because he doesn't know how to connect with them otherwise."

"That's a perceptive observation," Kerethin said quietly. "Power can be isolating. Perhaps he surrounds himself with unique individuals because they're the only ones who don't want something from him."

Rannek stood and began pacing the small space between their beds. "But we'd be safe. No one would dare touch us if we were under his direct protection. We could learn to control our abilities without pressure, without expectations."

"In a cage, though" Kaelid said quietly. "A beautiful, comfortable cage, but still a cage."

"And the Collegium?" Rannek asked, though they both knew he was really asking himself. "Magistra Elara seemed genuine. She talked about letting us stay children, about gradual development."

"She wants to send us home," Kaelid said, and the word 'home' carried a weight of longing that surprised him. "With a tutor. We could see Curio again, sleep in our own beds, help Uncle Doran with the shop."

"And continue your regular education with me," Kerethin added with a small smile. "You're still nine years old. You need mathematics and literature as much as you need ability training."

"But for how long?" Rannek stopped pacing and turned to face them. "Eventually we'd have to go to the Collegium proper. And what happens then? Do we become their weapons instead of the Praxis's?"

You're overthinking this, came the Sturm Marschal's voice, startling them both. The ancient consciousness had been silent since the Duke's departure, and Kaelid had almost forgotten about their mental connection.

What do you mean? Kaelid asked.

You're trying to predict the future, to control outcomes that are years away. But you're nine years old. The boys who make that decision when you're twelve or thirteen will be different people than you are now. Focus on what you need today, not what you might want tomorrow.

The advice was surprisingly wise, and Kaelid felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. "He's right," he said to Rannek. "We don't have to decide our entire future right now. Just the next step."

"And the next step is?"

"Going home," Kaelid said with growing certainty. "Learning from someone who sees us as people, not assets. Being with the people we love while we still can."

Rannek's expression brightened for the first time since their arrival at the capital. "Curio will be so excited to hear about everything that's happened."

"Elder Myra too," Kaelid added. "She'll want to know about the journal, about what we learned."

"So we choose the Collegium?" Rannek asked, though his tone suggested he had already made up his mind.

"We choose to go home," Kaelid corrected. "Whatever comes after, we'll face it when we get there."

"I think that's wise," Kerethin said quietly. "You need time to be children, to grow into your abilities naturally rather than being forced into premature development."

A soft knock at their door interrupted the conversation. "Enter," Kaelid called, expecting a servant with breakfast.

Instead, Duke Alaric stepped into the room, looking far more informal than he had the previous day. He wore simple traveling clothes rather than ceremonial robes, and his hair was slightly mussed as if he had been running his hands through it.

"Good morning," he said, his voice carrying none of yesterday's imperial authority. "I hope you slept better than I did." His gaze took in Kerethin's presence with a slight nod of acknowledgment. "Kerethin, I trust your accommodations were adequate?"

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"More than adequate, Your Grace," she replied. "Though like the boys, sleep was elusive."

"Not really," Rannek admitted when the Duke's attention returned to them.

The Duke smiled ruefully. "I thought as much. Heavy decisions tend to make for restless nights." He moved to the window and gazed out at the city below. "I've been thinking about our conversation yesterday. About the choices I've given you."

"Have you reached a decision?" he asked, turning back to face them.

Kaelid exchanged a glance with Rannek, seeing his own resolve reflected in his friend's eyes. "We have, Your Grace. We'd like to accept the Collegium's offer."

The Duke nodded slowly, and Kaelid thought he saw something that might have been relief in his expression. "I thought you might. It's what I would have chosen at your age, I think."

"You're not disappointed?" Rannek asked.

"Disappointed? No." The Duke moved to sit in one of the room's chairs, his posture relaxed and open. "Perhaps a little envious. You get to go home, to be with people who love you for who you are rather than what you can do for them."

"But Your Grace," Kaelid said hesitantly, "what about the Praxis? They won't just accept this decision, will they?"

The Duke's expression grew more serious. "No, they won't. Inquisitor Valerius will return to his superiors with a full report, and they will not be pleased. The Praxis has ways of getting what it wants, even when official channels are closed to them."

"What kind of ways?" Rannek asked, though his tone suggested he didn't really want to know.

"Pressure on local officials. Economic incentives. Sometimes more direct methods." The Duke's voice carried a warning. "You'll need to be careful, all of you. The Collegium's protection is real, but it's not absolute. There will be those who see you as prizes to be claimed or threats to be eliminated."

"We'll be vigilant, Your Grace," Kerethin said firmly. "Aldermere may be a small village, but we protect our own."

The weight of that reality settled over them like a cold blanket. Even going home wouldn't mean safety, not really. They would always be looking over their shoulders, wondering if today would be the day someone decided their abilities were too valuable or too dangerous to leave unchecked.

"I'm sorry," the Duke said quietly. "I wish I could offer you the simple life you want. But the world has noticed you now, and there's no going back to invisibility."

"We understand," Kaelid said, though understanding and accepting were two different things.

"Good." The Duke stood, his manner becoming more businesslike. "I'll send word to Magistra Elara immediately. She'll want to make arrangements for your journey home and for the tutor who will be assigned to you."

"When will we leave?" Rannek asked.

"As soon as possible. The longer you remain here, the more attention you'll attract. I'd prefer to have you safely away before certain interested parties realize what's happening."

The Duke moved toward the door, then paused. "One more thing. The tutor the Collegium assigns to you will be more than just a teacher. They'll also serve as your protector and advocate. Trust them, but remember that even they have loyalties beyond your immediate welfare."

"What do you mean?" Kaelid asked.

"I mean that everyone serves someone, even those who claim to serve knowledge or truth. Keep that in mind as you navigate the years ahead."

With that cryptic warning, the Duke left them alone with their thoughts and the weight of decisions that would shape the rest of their lives.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of activity. Servants appeared to pack their few belongings, though they had arrived with little more than the clothes on their backs. Marta wandered into the group after sleeping in. She was taking advantage of not having her father wake her hours before dawn to prepare the bread.

Magistra Elara returned to the palace, her face bright with satisfaction when she learned of their decision. "You've made a wise choice," she told them as they gathered in the Duke's study one final time. "The Collegium will ensure you receive the education and guidance you need while respecting your youth and your need for normalcy."

"What can we expect from our tutor?" Kaelid asked.

"Someone experienced in working with children who possess unusual abilities. Someone patient, knowledgeable, and committed to your wellbeing above all else." Magistra Elara's smile was warm and genuine. "I think you'll find the arrangement quite satisfactory."

The Duke had arranged for a simple carriage to take them home, nothing like the consciousness-enhanced vehicle that had brought them to the capital. "It's better this way," he explained. "Less conspicuous. The fewer people who notice your departure, the better. Now you four take you leave, and I will hear of your progress."

As they prepared to leave, Inquisitor Valerius appeared in the palace courtyard. His face was a mask of cold politeness, but his eyes burned with barely contained fury.

"Your Grace," he said with a bow that managed to be both respectful and mocking. "I trust the subjects' education will proceed according to established protocols."

"Their education will proceed according to Collegium standards," the Duke replied evenly. "As agreed upon by all relevant parties."

"Of course." Valerius's smile was sharp as a blade. "The Praxis looks forward to monitoring their progress with great interest."

The threat in those words was unmistakable, and Kaelid felt a chill run down his spine. Even in defeat, the Praxis was making it clear that this was far from over.

"I'm sure you do," the Duke said, his own smile equally dangerous. "I trust that monitoring will be conducted through appropriate channels and with proper respect for Collegium authority."

"Naturally," Valerius replied, though his tone suggested otherwise.

"I will have you note as well that I have not authorized a Praxis inquisitor or representative to take up residence or otherwise harass the township of Aldermere.

The exchange was polite on the surface, but Kaelid could feel the tension crackling between the two men like lightning before a storm. This was what the Duke had warned them about, the game that would continue to swirl around them whether they wanted to participate or not.

"Safe travels," Valerius said to them as they climbed into the carriage. "I'm sure we'll meet again soon."

The promise in those words made Kaelid's skin crawl, but he managed to nod politely. "Thank you for your concern, Inquisitor."

As the carriage pulled away from the palace, Kaelid caught a glimpse of Valerius watching them go, his expression calculating and cold. Whatever the Praxis was planning, it wouldn't end with their departure from the capital.

"Don't look back," Kerethin murmured beside him. "It'll only make it worse."

But Kaelid couldn't help himself. Through the carriage's rear window, he watched the palace shrink into the distance, taking with it any illusion of safety they might have harbored. The game had noticed them, as the Duke had said, and now they were pieces on a board they barely understood.

The road ahead stretched toward home, toward Aldermere and the people they loved. But it also led toward an uncertain future filled with dangers they couldn't yet imagine. All they could do was face it together, as they always had, and hope that the bonds of friendship and family would be strong enough to see them through whatever lay ahead.

Sturm Marschal:

The mind of the guardian monitored the carriage as it rolled towards the exit of the palace grounds .

You did the right thing, He said to himself. Those boys needed to go home.

For now, however. This isn't over. The Praxis doesn't give up easily, and there are others who will take an interest once word spreads.

The boys are stronger than they appear. And they have good people around them.

I hope that will be enough. I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of Kaelid and Rannek of Aldermere.

No, I suspect their story is just beginning.

As he watched Duke return into his guardianship in the palace. But in the shadows of the capital's great buildings, he could see other eyes watching the boys' departure with interest. This game had many players, and not all of them had shown their hands yet.