Vane woke up to a silence so profound it actually felt strange. For months, his mornings had been dictated by the constant, low-frequency thrum of Zenith Academy. Here, in the heart of the Sol Estate, the world felt like it had been wrapped in velvet.

He sat up and stretched, feeling his joints pop in a way that felt oddly satisfying. His body didn't just feel rested; it felt different. The breakthrough to the Sentinel rank had smoothed out the jagged edges of his mana circulation. The silver energy wasn't hammering against his ribs like a trapped animal anymore. Instead, it flowed with the steady, unyielding pressure of a deep-sea current. He felt more alert, more present, and dangerously calm.

A soft knock at the door preceded Elena's entrance. The young maid stepped in with a tray, but the second she crossed the threshold, she nearly fumbled it. Vane hadn't even flared his mana, but his new rank made his mere presence feel like a physical weight in the room.

"Good morning, Master Vane," she squeaked, her eyes fixed firmly on her shoes. "I've brought your breakfast. The Duchess requested that you dine in the conservatory today. She said the training hall is closed for maintenance."

Vane smiled, though he realized it probably didn't help her nerves much. "The hall's closed because I cracked the floor, Elena. You don't have to call it maintenance."

Elena's face went bright pink. "The Duke calls it maintenance, sir. Therefore, it's maintenance."

"Fair enough," Vane said, standing up. "Tell the Duchess I'll be there in ten minutes. And Elena? Try to breathe. I'm not going to bite."

The conservatory was a massive glass structure filled with rare, heat-loving plants from the Southern Isles. The air was humid and smelled of jasmine and damp earth. Valerica was already there, sitting at a white wrought-iron table with her mother and the twins. She looked up as Vane entered, her eyes immediately scanning his posture. She was looking for the change, that subtle shift in gravity that came with his new rank.

"The monster's finally awake," Valerica noted, though her tone lacked its usual bite. She looked more relaxed than he'd ever seen her. Her violet hair was loose and she was casually working on a half-eaten pastry.

"Master Vane!" Leo shouted, jumping up from his chair. The five-year-old boy scrambled toward Vane, nearly tripping over a decorative fern. "Val says you reached the Sentinel rank! She says you can make silver lightning now! Show us! Show us!"

Mia followed her brother more slowly, though her eyes were just as wide. "Can you make a silver dragon? Val said you fought a dragon in the big school."

Vane looked at the Duchess, who was watching him with a quiet, amused smile. She looked less like a noble today and more like a mother. Her silver hair was braided simply over one shoulder.

"They've been talking about nothing else since they woke up," the Duchess said. "I apologize, Vane. I told them you were resting, but they're convinced you're a legendary hero from a storybook."

"I'm definitely not a hero," Vane said, patting Leo on the head. He sat down at the table, feeling a strange, hollow sensation in his chest. It had been months since he'd just sat at a breakfast table with people who weren't calculating their next political move.

"Can you do it?" Leo persisted, tugging on Vane's sleeve. "Just one spark? Please?"

Vane looked at Valerica, who gave him a playful shrug. "Go on, Sentinel. Give the fans what they want."

Vane reached into his core. He didn't use the math of the Argent Horizon. He didn't focus on the rejection logic of the Silver Fang. He simply thought about the shape of a bird.

A thin, translucent filament of silver mana detached from his palm. Using his new [Argent Lash] skill, he manipulated the mana into a delicate, glowing outline of a hawk. The bird didn't hum or crackle: it simply hovered in the air, its wings flapping with a soft, crystalline sound.

The twins gasped in unison. Mia reached out to touch it, her fingers passing through the cool, vibrating energy with a giggle. Leo tried to catch it, but Vane made the bird dive and weave through the jasmine vines, leading the children on a chase around the conservatory.

For the next hour, the strongest student of Zenith Academy's first year was reduced to a glorified entertainer. He sat in a plush armchair while the twins climbed over his knees, demanding more shapes. He made silver rabbits that hopped over the tea cups and a miniature silver spear that "defended" Mia's plate from Leo's reaching fingers.

Vane found himself laughing: a genuine, easy sound that felt alien in his own throat. He realized he was relaxing. Truly relaxing. He wasn't looking for the exits. He wasn't gauging the mana signatures of the guards in the hall. He was just a guest in a house that, for once, didn't feel like a cage.

"You're very good with them," the Duchess said, leaning back in her chair as she watched the children play. "Valerica told me you grew up without siblings. Where'd you learn to be so patient?"

"I was the King of Puddles," Vane replied, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "In the slums, the younger kids look up to whoever can keep the bigger ones from stealing their shoes. I spent a lot of time making up games to keep them out of trouble. It was either that or let them join the gangs."

Valerica looked at him, her expression unreadable. "You never told me that."

"You never asked," Vane said, making the silver hawk land on her shoulder. The bird tilted its head and let out a tiny, mana-based chirp before dissolving into motes of light.

Valerica brushed the lingering silver sparks away, her face flushing slightly. "It's a waste of mana. You should be meditating to stabilize your new rank."

The Duchess didn't miss the way Valerica's eyes lingered on Vane's face, or the way her posture softened whenever he laughed. It was a look of quiet, burgeoning pride mixed with something far more personal. The Duchess hid a smile behind her teacup. It was the first time she'd seen her daughter look at a peer as more than just a rival or a tool.

"He's stabilizing just fine, Valerica," the Duchess interrupted, her voice gentle. "A Sentinel who doesn't know how to be a man is just a weapon. Your father forgot that a long time ago. I'm glad Vane hasn't."

The morning stretched into a lazy afternoon. They moved from the conservatory to the outer gardens, where the gray ash had been cleared to reveal patches of resilient mountain grass. Vane found himself lying on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky while Leo and Mia "attacked" him with wooden practice swords.

"Die, monster!" Leo yelled, poking Vane in the ribs with the blunt wood.

"Oh, you've found my only weakness," Vane groaned, dramatically rolling onto his side. "A wooden sword to the spleen. How could I have been so foolish?"

Mia giggled, dropping her own sword and flopping onto the grass beside him. "You're a bad monster. You're too soft."

"I'll work on my growl for next time," Vane promised.

Valerica sat on a stone bench nearby, a book in her lap that she hadn't turned a page of in thirty minutes. She was watching them with an intensity that had nothing to do with study. She saw the way Vane's presence filled the garden: not as a threat, but as an anchor. He was a Sentinel now, a rank that most people spent decades trying to achieve, yet he was content to let a five-year-old "defeat" him in the grass.

Eventually, the nanny came to collect the twins for their nap. They went reluctantly, each of them hugging Vane's leg before being led away. The silence that followed was peaceful, filled only with the distant sound of the mountain wind.

The Duchess stood up, smoothing her skirts. "I believe I'll go check on the greenhouse. Valerica, try to keep our guest from falling asleep in the dirt. It wouldn't do for a Sentinel to be found with grass in his hair."

She walked away, casting one last glance at her daughter. Valerica was still watching Vane, her expression open and vulnerable in a way she only allowed when she thought no one was looking. The Duchess's smile widened. Maybe this break wouldn't be as cold as she'd feared.

Vane didn't move. He stayed on his back, his eyes closed. He felt the sun on his face and the hum of the mountain beneath him. He felt the silver mana in his heart, calm and steady.

"You look like a different person when you're not trying to kill something," Valerica said. She'd walked over and was standing over him, her shadow falling across his chest.

Vane opened one eye. "Is that a compliment, Lady Sol?"

"It's an observation," she replied. She sat down on the grass beside him, her movements less stiff than usual. "I don't think I've ever seen you this still. Not even when you're meditating."

"I didn't think I knew how to be," Vane admitted. He sat up, leaning back on his elbows. He looked at the massive white manor, then at the jagged horizon. "My life's been a sprint for a long time. This is the first time I've felt like I can just... sit."

Valerica looked at him, her dark violet eyes searching his. "Is it because of the rank? Do you feel safe now?"

"Safe?" Vane snorted. "No. I don't think I'll ever feel safe. But for the first time, I feel like I'm the one holding the leash. I'm not running because I have to. I'm choosing where to go."

Valerica reached out, her fingers hovering near his arm before she hesitated and pulled back. "And where are we going, Vane?"

Vane looked at her. The violet in her eyes was deep, reflecting a vulnerability that matched his own. He realized that they were no longer just a squad or a team. They were the only two people who knew exactly how much it cost to stand where they were.

"To the top," Vane said, his voice a low, resonant chord. "But maybe we don't have to run the whole way."

Valerica smiled: a small, genuine thing that made her face look younger. "I think I could get used to a slower pace. Just for today."

They sat in the garden for a long time, watching the shadows of the peaks stretch across the valley. Vane felt the memory of Gareth waiting in the distance, but for these few hours, he was just a boy in the sun.

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