The evening air was thick with the scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the hearth. Usually, our home was a place of quiet routine, but tonight, the presence of Priestess Valerius turned the small kitchen into a hall of heavy decisions.

  She sat at our wooden table, her silk robes looking out of place against the rough-hewn grain. She didn't look at Kael or Elena with the authority of a high official; she looked at them with a soft, genuine concern.

  "The war has left many scars on this land," Valerius began, her voice calm and melodic. "Our Church exists to mend them, but we cannot do it with prayers alone. We seek the children of light—those the Sun God has touched—to become the pillars of a better world. We sponsor many who cannot afford the luxury of study, ensuring that talent is never wasted due to the circumstances of birth."

  She turned her gaze to Joran, who sat stiffly on a stool, his hands gripped tightly in his lap.

  "Joran is more than just talented," she continued. "He is a rarity. We wish to sponsor his education at The Dawnspire Institute in the capital. It is the premier center of learning; even the Royal bloodlines and the highest Nobility are shaped within its walls. Normally, a child must be ten years old to be admitted, but for a vessel as pure as Joran, we wish to take him for a preliminary year of training. We want him to understand the weight of his gift before his formal education begins."

  A heavy silence followed. To Kael and Elena, this was a dream beyond their wildest reach—a chance for their son to walk among kings. But to Joran, it sounded like a sentence of exile.

  "A year?" Elena whispered, her hand finding Kael’s under the table. "He’s only nine."

  "A year to start," Valerius said gently. "He would return to you before his tenth year, and then decide if he wishes to commit fully. But this year is crucial for his stabilization."

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  Kael looked at Joran, then shifted his gaze to me. I was sitting in the corner, a small shadow with white hair and blood-red eyes. I stayed perfectly still, observing the way the lamplight died before it could reach my skin.

  "We will not decide for him," Kael said, his voice gruff with emotion. "It is his life. His light."

  Valerius nodded, standing up to leave. "I will be at the village inn. Give me your answer by tomorrow morning."

  After the Priestess left, the house felt colder. My parents spoke in hushed tones in the other room, leaving Joran and me alone in the flickering light of the fire.

  Joran didn't look at the door. He looked at me. I could see the golden mana within him swirling violently, agitated by his internal conflict. Through my eyes, his soul looked like a storm of sunbeams.

  "If I go," Joran whispered, his voice so low I could barely hear it. "I’ll be away from you for a year. Who will protect you? Who will stand between you and the people who call you a monster?"

  I looked at him, my expression a hollow mask. "I do not need to be saved, Joran. Logic dictates that your growth is more important than my comfort."

  Joran shook his head, a fierce light entering his eyes. "You don't understand. I saw how she looked at you, Satan. I see how the village looks at you. If I stay here, I'm just a boy with a spark. But if I go... if I become powerful... I can change the laws. I can make a world where being 'different' isn't a crime."

  He stood up, his small frame trembling with a sudden, desperate resolve. He wasn't choosing the capital for the glory or the noble blood. He was choosing the power so he could protect the "void" he saw in me.

  "I have to go," he said, looking at the ceiling as if he could see the Sun God itself. "I’ll go to the Dawnspire. I’ll become the strongest mage they’ve ever seen. And then, no one will ever dare to call my brother a monster again."

  I watched him, the Marble in my chest remaining cold and still. He was making a sacrifice based on an emotional error—he thought he was my shield. He didn't realize that by leaving, he was giving me exactly what I needed: a year of silence to master the darkness without anyone watching.