The four stood in silence, surveying the sealed hall.
Not a single crack remained in the obsidian defenses - no gaps for wind, no vulnerabilities to cold.
The baron ran a hand along the nearest reinforced window frame, the black metal humming faintly with embedded wards.
"Nothing gets through these," he said, turning to the trio. His knuckles rapped against the obsidian, producing a dull, impenetrable tone. "Not frost, not wind, not even those monsters’ whispers."
Aeron’s golden eyes still darted along the seams where walls met the ceiling. Lumin simply adjusted his monocle, its lens flickering as he scanned the defenses. Only Zephyr appeared unconcerned, his gaze distant as if listening to something beyond the walls.
"Follow me," the baron gestured toward the eastern corridor. "I’ll show you the guest quarters. You should take a bath and rest - you’ve earned it."
"But the monsters-" Aeron began.
"Can’t breach these walls," the baron finished. A faint smile touched his lips as he tapped the obsidian again. "And don’t worry, I’ll keep watch tonight."
Aeron nodded, though his fingers twitched toward his sword hilt.
The baron’s calm assurance reminded him suddenly, painfully, of Aman - that same stubborn selflessness.
The realization settled in his chest like a warm stone.
Their footsteps echoed through stone corridors as the baron led them past the kitchen. Steam and the scent of roasting herbs drifted through the half-open door.
"Come down when you’re ready," the baron said. "I’ve asked the staff to prepare dinner." His voice changed slightly. "My son’s favorite dishes, in fact. His mother told me to do it."
Lumin’s ears twitched almost imperceptibly. So the maids had stayed - not just to maintain the castle, but to care for the lady of the house. A quiet dedication that matched their lord’s.
At last, they reached the guest wing. The baron paused before three oaken doors, each bearing fresh linens folded at the foot.
"Until dinner, then," he said with a subtle nod.
They nodded back as the baron took his leave. And also exchanged nods with each other before choosing a room. The heavy oak doors closed behind them with quiet finality.
Each retreated into their respective chambers - Aeron collapsing onto the bed after barely removing his boots, Zephyr immediately assuming a meditative pose, Lumin methodically cleaning his monocle and clothes before bathing.
Four hours later, warm candlelight flickered across the dining hall’s polished table. Steam rose from hearty vegetable stew and freshly baked bread, the simple fare arranged with care. The baron sat at the head of the table, his fingers laced before him.
"It’s not much," he said, gesturing to the meal, "but our staff prepared their best. Please, dig in."
Lumin dabbed his lips with a napkin before speaking. "How is Lady Luthaire faring?"
The baron’s shoulders relaxed slightly. "Thanks for asking, and she’s well. She was still resting when I last checked."
"That’s good." Lumin offered a gentle smile before returning to his meal. The quiet clink of silverware filled the hall as Zephyr and Aeron began eating with measured politeness.
After several minutes, Aeron set down his spoon with deliberate care. "Umm... Can I ask you something?"
The baron paused, his own spoon hovering above the bowl before he placed it down. A moment passed before he spoke. "Is it about my son?"
Aeron nodded solemnly. "Yes. I want to know more about him." His golden eyes were earnest. "Please tell us what he was like... if you can."
The baron’s gaze drifted to the flickering candle between them. He noticed Lumin’s discreetly attentive posture, the way Zephyr’s chewing had slowed. After a long exhale, a faint smile touched his lips.
His calloused fingers traced the rim of his water glass. "Amaniel was..." The words caught momentarily before flowing more easily. "He had his mother’s laugh, that sudden, bright sound which would even make strangers smile. But also my stubbornness, I’m afraid."
Aeron found himself mirroring the baron’s smile without realizing it.
"He also hated carrots," the baron added as he sliced the carrot in his bowl, the memory pulling a quiet chuckle from him. "Would pick them out of every stew, no matter how finely they were chopped. But he’d eat them without complaint if his younger siblings were watching; he probably didn’t want to set a bad example."
"..." Lumin’s spoon froze mid-air, several carrot pieces balanced precariously on it. Zephyr’s eyes flicked to the half-elf, his normally impassive lips twitching for the briefest moment.
Aeron and the baron turned their heads in unison, confused by the sudden pause.
"We elves, no, I mean half-elves..." Lumin said with quiet dignity, "...love carrots."
He deliberately brought the spoon to his lips and ate the vegetables with measured enjoyment.
The baron’s chuckle started deep in his chest, warm and unexpected.
For a fleeting moment, he saw Amaniel in Lumin’s expression - that same stubborn pride when caught in some childish habit. The resemblance made his next words come more easily.
"He loved to play, but was just as happy buried in books." The baron’s fingers absently traced the grain of the wooden table. "Always pestering me for stories about legendary resonators and heroes. Perhaps those tales influenced him, or maybe we raised him right... he grew into that very kindness and bravery he admired."
"Though it seems being a hero wasn’t quite suited for him. He’d always help, always try to do something ’heroic,’ but he’d rarely get any attention for it. Still, that never discouraged him. He’d just smile and say, ’As long as I can help, it doesn’t matter if someone sees me as a hero or just an ordinary boy at all.’"
Aeron’s grip tightened around his cup as the baron continued, his voice gaining strength.
"I still remember the first time he truly became a ’hero’." the baron chuckled, a warm memory softening his face. "He was barely ten, and he’d saved a group of children from a ’monster’ attack – kids his own age. They were the first ones to see him as a hero, and he came home absolutely beaming, couldn’t stop telling us about it."
Lumin’s spoon paused mid-air again while Zephyr’s lips quirked slightly. Aeron couldn’t help but smile at the image.
"Of course," the baron continued, shaking his head, "his mother promptly turned that joy into yelps of pain when she tanned his backside for being reckless."
The shared laughter around the table felt surprisingly light given the circumstances.
"Then there was another time..."