The Majordomo of the House of Lazarai appeared at precisely the moment Ambassador Lazarai had settled the last guest at the long table. He was a Tirajin with skin the color of burgundy wine, his horns polished to a gleam and adorned with small silver caps.

Unlike the ambassador, who wore a blend of Tirajin and Imperial styles, the Majordomo was dressed in the full traditional regalia of his position—a high-collared coat that reached his ankles, embroidered with patterns that seemed to shift as he moved.

"Distinguished guests," he announced, "I am Tharval, Majordomo to the House of Lazarai. It is my honor to present today's offerings."

He stepped aside, hands clasped behind his back, and the air behind him began to shimmer.

Sam leaned toward Adom, whispering, "Is that—"

Before he could finish, a procession of plates appeared, floating in perfect formation. They hovered momentarily at the entrance to the pavilion before gliding smoothly toward the table. Each plate was covered with a dome of hammered silver, ornately decorated with scenes from what Adom recognized as Tirajin mythology.

Zuni chirped excitedly from Adom's shoulder.

"The food flies here!" Sam whispered, eyes wide.

"Not exactly," Adom murmured back. "Gravitational manipulation."

The plates arranged themselves in front of each guest. Tharval stepped forward once more, making a subtle gesture with his fingers. Every silver dome lifted in unison, hovering a foot above each plate before disappearing in small flashes of light.

Aromas hit them like a wave—spices Adom hadn't smelled in decades, some he'd never encountered even in his previous life.

"Our first course," Tharval announced, "Akari blossoms stuffed with Kirishian snow rice. The blossoms come from our embassy gardens, grown from seeds brought directly from the Southern Tirajin provinces. The rice is harvested from the peaks of Mount Kirish, where it's exposed to constant snowfall, giving it its distinctive pearlescent color."

Adom examined the dish before him—delicate red flowers that looked too beautiful to eat, filled with rice that indeed seemed to shimmer like tiny pearls.

"I've never seen anything like this," Sam whispered, staring at his plate with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

"Me neither," Adom admitted. "Even before."

Kaiden, seated across from Adom, watched him with that same measuring look from earlier. "This particular dish," he said, his voice casual but his eyes intent, "is traditionally eaten in a single bite. The flavors are meant to be experienced together."

Ambassador Lazarai nodded approvingly. "My son is correct. Though our Sundarian friends often prefer to savor it in smaller portions."

Duke Jasper laughed, picking up one of the blossoms with his fingers. "When in the house of Lazarai, one should honor Tirajin customs!" He popped the entire blossom into his mouth, his expression transforming to one of delighted surprise as the flavors hit.

"Extraordinary!" he declared after swallowing. "Absolutely extraordinary!"

Around the table, the other guests followed suit, though Lady Dimitri opted for a more measured approach, taking delicate bites with the special small fork provided.

Adom picked up one of his blossoms, aware of Kaiden's gaze still on him. He met the Tirajin's eyes briefly before putting the entire blossom in his mouth as tradition apparently dictated.

The taste was... explosive. Sweet and spicy and somehow cooling all at once.

Did that make sense?

The rice crunched pleasantly before dissolving into something similar to butter.

Sam made a small sound of surprise beside him. "That's... I don't even have words for what that is."

Across the table, Damus maintained his composure, though even he couldn't hide a flicker of impressed surprise.

"The blossoms are mildly hallucinogenic in their natural state," Kaiden commented, his eyes still on Adom. "They require three days of special preparation to make them safe for consumption."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" Sam muttered under his breath.

Adom smiled slightly. "It's information. Knowledge is always valuable."

Naia, seated between her brother and mother, gave Kaiden a look. "Stop trying to unnerve our guests."

Kaiden's expression remained pleasant. "I'm simply sharing cultural context, little sister."

Before Naia could respond, Tharval stepped forward again. The empty plates rose in unison, floating away to be replaced by new ones.

"Our second course," the Majordomo announced, "Elven cloud fish from the mists of Vaerenfall, served with seasoned blackroot from the Mirrasan highlands."

The domes lifted, revealing what appeared to be slices of something pearlescent and translucent, arranged in a spiral pattern around a mound of purple-black vegetables.

"The cloud fish absorb the magic of the falls where they live," Tharval continued. "Each bite carries a whisper of that power. The blackroot, harvested during the waning moon, complements with its earthy contrast."

Adom stared at his plate with an unexpected sense of loss. Cloud fish. He'd read about them in his previous life—they'd gone extinct during the Northern Wars, decades from now. To actually see one, to be able to taste it...

"Are you well, Adom?" Duke Jasper asked, noticing his expression.

Adom composed himself quickly. "Yes, just... appreciating the rarity of what we're being served."

"Indeed," Ambassador Lazarai nodded. "The cloud fish population has declined sharply in recent years. We are fortunate to have access to the controlled reserves."

Kaiden's eyes hadn't left Adom. "You recognize them," he said. It wasn't a question.

"I've read about them," Adom replied.

"In quite some detail, it seems," Kaiden pressed, his tone light but his gaze intent.

"I enjoy books."

"How scholarly for one so young," Kaiden remarked, the barest hint of emphasis on 'young.'

Sam glanced between them, catching on to the undercurrent for the first time. His brow furrowed slightly.

"Try the fish with a bit of the sauce," Naia interrupted, gesturing to a small ceramic vessel that had appeared beside each plate. "It's made with honey from stingless bees and herbs that only grow in volcanic soil."

The meal continued, each course more impressive than the last. A soup made from roots that changed color as you stirred it. A main dish of something called 'thunder-touched venison' that seemed to crackle with tiny sparks when cut into. Three different preparations of a grain Tharval called "emperor's wheat," each representing a different province's speciality.

Throughout, Kaiden maintained his subtle probing, asking questions that seemed innocuous but carried hidden edges.

"Your reflexes during combat must be extraordinary," he commented as they were served a palate cleanser of frozen mountain berry sorbet. "Naia said you moved faster than she could track."

"I got lucky," Adom replied.

"Repeatedly, it seems."

"What can I say? I'm fortunate."

"Indeed. Almost as if you knew what was coming."

Sam's head snapped up at that, his attention fully engaged now.

"Kaiden," Ambassador Lazarai said with gentle warning, "we agreed this would be a social occasion, not an interrogation."

"My apologies, Father." Kaiden inclined his head. "Mere curiosity."

Lord Vorsen, who had been quiet for most of the meal, cleared his throat. "I understand you're quite skilled with close combat as well as magic, young Sylla. Unusual for someone of your age to master both disciplines."

"I wouldn't say mastered," Adom replied, grateful for the slight change in topic. "I'm still learning."

"Very modest," Duke Jasper laughed. "Just like your father. Arthur could outfight three instructors at once at the academy and still claim he needed more practice!"

"Speaking of practice," Karion Dimitri chimed in, "you should join our morning sessions, Adom. I still want a rematch."

"I'd like that," Adom nodded.

Throughout the conversation, Zuni had been perched on the edge of the table, carefully selecting nuts from a small dish Naia had arranged specifically for him. The quillick seemed utterly contented, chirping occasionally and shooting suspicious glances at Kaiden whenever the Tirajin leaned too close to Adom.

"Your companion seems protective," Kaiden observed, watching Zuni's quills rise slightly when he reached for his glass.

"He's perceptive," Adom replied.

The final course arrived—a spectacle of desserts that drew audible gasps from around the table. Floating platforms of different heights appeared, each holding a different sweet creation. Some glowed with internal light, others released wisps of scented steam, and one appeared to be made entirely of spun sugar that continuously reformed itself into different shapes.

"Our dessert selection," Tharval announced with evident pride, "Representing the twelve provinces of the Tirajin homeworld and the eight regions of the Empire."

"This is incredible," Sam breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. "How do we even choose?"

"You don't have to," Naia said with a smile. "Small portions of each will come to you. Just tap the ones that interest you most."

Mia leaned forward, pointing to a delicate construction of blue and silver. "What's that one?"

"Midnight frost from the Northern Reaches," Tharval explained. "Sugar crystals grown in freezing temperatures, filled with essence of snowberries."

The children around the table—even Damus—momentarily forgot their social composures in the face of such wonders. Adom found himself smiling genuinely for the first time since they'd sat down. There was something heartening about seeing even the most reserved of them reduced to wide-eyed amazement by cleverly crafted sweets.

"No sugar for you," Adom murmured to Zuni, who looked longingly at the desserts. "You know what happened last time."

Zuni chirped indignantly but settled back to his nuts.

"What happened last time?" Kaiden asked, catching Adom's comment.

"He vibrated so fast his quills fell out," Sam answered before Adom could. "Took weeks to grow back."

Kaiden laughed, the sound surprisingly... genuine. "I once had a similar experience with a storm ferret. Gave it a spoonful of honey and it shot straight up a tree and didn't come down for three days."

For a moment, the tension between them eased. Then Kaiden's expression shifted, becoming thoughtful.

"You know," he said, tapping a glowing golden dessert that promptly floated to his plate, "we've enjoyed such wonderful hospitality and conversation. Perhaps we should offer some entertainment in return."

Ambassador Lazarai raised an eyebrow. "We've prepared no formal entertainment, son."

"Nothing formal," Kaiden said smoothly. "I was thinking of something more... spontaneous." His eyes fixed on Adom. "Perhaps a friendly demonstration of skills? Young Master Sylla here has quite the reputation. I admit I'm curious to see it firsthand."

The table quieted.

"What kind of demonstration?" Lady Dimitri asked, her tone carefully neutral.

"A simple contest," Kaiden suggested. "Perhaps a match in the garden's training circle? Nothing serious—no magic, just basic combat forms." His smile remained pleasant. "For entertainment value only, of course."

Duke Jasper looked intrigued. "I wouldn't mind seeing the lad in action. I've heard so much from Arthur about his progress."

Sam shot Adom a warning look.

"I'm not dressed for sparring," Adom said mildly.

"We have training clothes that would fit you," Kaiden replied without missing a beat. "Imperial style, quite comfortable."

Naia's tail twitched with obvious irritation. "Kaiden, our guests came for lunch, not to perform for your amusement."

"It was merely a suggestion," Kaiden said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Though I suspect Master Sylla might welcome the challenge. He seems the type to embrace opportunities to test himself."

The statement hung in the air. Not quite a dare, but close enough.

Adom took a slow sip of his water. Ah, what the hell. "If our hosts don't object, I wouldn't mind a friendly match."

Sam kicked him under the table.

"Wonderful!" Kaiden smiled, something predatory flickering behind his eyes for just an instant. "After dessert, then. Nothing builds character like a bit of exertion after a good meal."

Ambassador Lazarai studied his son with a measuring look, then turned to Adom. "Only if you're comfortable, young man. You're under no obligation."

"I know, sir," Adom replied. "But I'd be happy to."

Kaiden lifted his glass in a small toast. "To friendly competition, then."

"To friendly competition," Adom echoed, lifting his own glass.

Their eyes met over the rims, and the silent contest that had begun with a handshake continued—neither willing to back down, both measuring the other.

The rest of the dessert course passed in animated conversation, but Adom barely tasted the exquisite creations that found their way to his plate. His mind was already in the training circle, assessing what he'd felt in Kaiden's grip.

When Tharval announced the conclusion of the meal, Kaiden rose smoothly from his seat. "Shall we, Master Sylla? The training circle awaits."

Adom stood. "Lead the way."

*****

As Adom slipped on the lightweight training tunic, his mind wandered back through memories that belonged to a future that would never come to pass—at least not the same way.

The Red Demon of the Battlefield. In Adom's original timeline, that name was spoken with a mixture of respect and fear.

Adom had never focused on military tactics during his previous life. Runes had been his calling. But everyone who survived the Mage Wars knew the important figures, the ones who shaped the course of history.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

In about eight years—or what would have been eight years—the Tirajin would be among the first to face the full might of the Farmus Empire's new weapon: Dragon's Breath.

Most nations fell within days of the first attacks. The Tirajin, however, managed to hold out for five years. Their natural affinity for Fluid manipulation and the way their warriors fought with a ferocity that surprised even the Empire's generals played a major role.

As Adom tied the drawstring on his training pants, he mentally reviewed the timeline. The Tirajin had many leaders during those five years of resistance. One by one, they fell. Until only one remained.

The Red Demon.

Historical accounts from Adom's time described him as a fighter of unparalleled strength. He led from the front, always. Witnesses claimed his laughter could be heard across battlefields as he tore through enemy lines. He killed while smiling—a detail that had always seemed like an exaggeration until Adom had seen Kaiden's grin during their handshake.

When the Red Demon finally fell—to an assassination by enemy mages while he slept—the Tirajin resistance collapsed within weeks.

Adom finished securing the last tie on his tunic. The clothes fit better than he'd expected.

If his calculations were correct, the Dragon's Breath attacks wouldn't begin for at least another decade now that he slowed down the progression. Hopefully, at least.

Which meant the Red Demon would be in his mid-twenties right now. About Kaiden's age.

Could it be him?

After that first handshake, it was easy to conclude that the young man was squarely in Star Knight territory.

Adom flexed his fingers, remembering his battle with Gale. He'd won, but only through surprise and desperation. If they fought again, without those advantages...

His 950 mana pool might actually be enough. But against someone with both experience and raw power like Gale, nothing was certain.

Sam poked his head into the changing room. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know."

"Then why are you?"

Adom finished securing the last tie on his tunic. "Curiosity."

"About whether you can beat him?"

"About whether I need to worry about him."

Sam frowned. "Why would you need to worry?"

Adom didn't answer directly. "How's Zuni?"

"With Naia. She's feeding him more nuts."

"Good. Make sure he stays with her."

Sam's frown deepened. "You're expecting trouble."

"I'm expecting a challenge," Adom corrected. "There's a difference."

"Barely." Sam sighed. "The others are already at the training circle. Duke Jasper's acting like it's a championship match. Even the Dimitris seem interested."

"Hmm."

Tharval appeared at the entrance to the changing area, hands clasped behind his back. "Master Sylla, if you're prepared, the demonstration area awaits."

Adom nodded. "Lead the way."

The training circle wasn't simply a ring drawn in the dirt, as Adom had expected. It was a perfectly circular platform of polished stone, raised about a foot from the surrounding ground. Runes were carved around its perimeter, faintly glowing with suppressed magic.

"A containment field," Adom murmured, recognizing the pattern.

"Yes," Tharval confirmed. "It prevents damage to spectators and surroundings. Standard for all proper training facilities."

The guests had arranged themselves in a loose semicircle around the platform. Duke Jasper standing with Ambassador Lazarai and Damus, their conversation animated. The Dimitri siblings clustered together, Karion explaining something to his sisters with enthusiastic hand gestures. Mia stood slightly apart with her parents, her expression thoughtful.

Naia held Zuni, who was chittering nervously.

And at the center of the platform stood Kaiden.

He'd changed into training clothes similar to Adom's, though his were trimmed in the deep red that seemed to be the Lazarai family color. He looked relaxed, hands loosely at his sides, but Adom recognized the stance for what it was—perfect balance, ready to move in any direction without telegraphing the intention.

As Adom approached, conversation quieted. Ambassador Lazarai stepped forward.

"A friendly demonstration only," he reminded them, looking particularly at his son. "First to three touches or yielding. No strikes to vulnerable areas."

Kaiden nodded, but his eyes never left Adom.

Adom stepped onto the platform. Immediately, the runes around the edge flared brighter, and he felt a subtle pressure as the containment field activated.

"Interesting," Kaiden said, his voice low enough that only Adom could hear. "Most people flinch when the field engages. You didn't even blink."

"I've seen barrier magic before."

"I'm sure you have." Kaiden rolled his shoulders, a casual gesture belied by the intensity of his gaze. "I like your eyes, Adom Sylla. You have the look of someone who enjoys a good fight."

"Do I?"

"Oh yes. You're very good at playing the quiet, cautious observer. But there's hunger there." Kaiden's smile widened. "We're quite similar, you and I."

Ambassador Lazarai raised his hand. "At the signal, you may begin." He let his hand fall.

Neither moved immediately. They circled, three steps each, maintaining the exact same distance.

"A patience game?" Kaiden asked, his smile never wavering. "I don't mind. We have all afternoon."

This was another test, Adom realized. Kaiden wanted to see if he'd attack first, rush in from youthful impatience or nerves.

If the Red Demon was known for anything besides his strength, it was his tactical mind.

So Adom waited, keeping his breathing steady, his stance fluid. Ready, but not eager.

Kaiden's smile shifted from amused to approving. "Very good. Very, very good."

And then he moved.

One moment he was ten feet away, the next he was inches from Adom's face.

Adom barely registered the movement before a fist tapped his chest.

"One," Kaiden announced, already back at his original position.

Sam's jaw dropped. Karion whispered something to his sisters. Duke Jasper let out an appreciative whistle.

"Wow," Mia said quietly.

Adom reset his stance, mentally recalibrating. The speed was unexpected. Not impossible to counter, but close.

"Are we done warming up?" Kaiden asked, tilting his head slightly. "Or are you going to keep treating me like I'm made of glass?"

"I'm just getting a feel for things."

"No, you're holding back." Kaiden's smile dimmed slightly. "It's a bit insulting, to be honest."

Adom considered this. He was holding back—keeping his skills in reserve, playing the cautious game. It made tactical sense.

But it wasn't much fun.

"You know what?" Adom said, rolling his shoulders. "You're right."

[Flow Prediction] activated in his mind, the familiar sensation of time slowing as his perception sharpened. He let [Fluid Control] rise from its dormant state, feeling the energy course through his limbs.

Blue energy flared around him like flames, startling several of the spectators.

Kaiden's eyes widened, then his smile returned—brighter, more genuine than before.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said. "Tell me, what's your trigger? What emotion fuels your Fluid?"

Adom shifted his weight, feeling the familiar burn of power through his muscles. "Spite."

Naia gasped.

"Spite," Kaiden repeated, looking absolutely delighted. "Perfect."

His own Fluid flared to life—blue, identical to Adom's in color and texture. The energy swirled around him like an azure storm.

"I knew we were similar," Kaiden said, "but not to this extent."

They moved simultaneously, meeting in the center of the circle. Fist against forearm, kick blocked by knee, palm strike deflected by palm strike. Each movement flowed into the next without hesitation or wasted motion.

Adom's mind raced, [Flow Prediction] mapping out Kaiden's movements fractions of a second before they happened.

He was enjoying himself. Surprisingly so.

A feint to the left drew Kaiden's guard high. Adom dropped low, sweeping his leg in a wide arc that should have taken Kaiden's feet from under him.

Should have.

Kaiden simply wasn't there anymore. He'd jumped, flipping over Adom's head, landing with catlike grace behind him.

"Two," Kaiden said, tapping Adom's back.

"Did anyone actually see that?" Sam demanded loudly.

"I did," Lina Dimitri answered. "Sort of."

Karion was leaning forward, completely engrossed. "This isn't academy-level combat."

"No," Duke Jasper agreed, his expression thoughtful. "It most certainly is not."

Adom reset, feeling his Fluid burn hotter. The spite that fueled it wasn't directed at Kaiden, but at himself—for underestimating, for being too cautious, for not adapting fast enough.

This time, he attacked first.

The kick was a feint. So was the following palm strike. The real attack was the subtle manipulation of his Fluid, creating a momentary pressure wave that disrupted Kaiden's footing.

It worked. For just a heartbeat, Kaiden's balance shifted.

Adom exploited the opening, his knuckles brushing against Kaiden's shoulder.

"One," he said.

Kaiden's laugh was bright, almost infectious. "Excellently done!"

They reset again. This time, neither held anything back.

The exchange became too fast for most of the spectators to follow. Fluid flares layered on top of physical movements, each fighter reading and countering the other in real-time.

To Adom, it felt like dancing with a mirror. Each time he thought he had an advantage, Kaiden countered with the exact technique needed to neutralize it. Each time Kaiden pressed forward, Adom found the perfect block or redirection.

It almost felt like fighting Gale again. Only this time, he could stand his ground.

Sweat beaded on Adom's forehead. His breathing remained controlled, but he could feel the strain building in his muscles.

Then he spotted it—a pattern in Kaiden's movements. A slight tell before he shifted his weight. [Flow Prediction] highlighted it, practically drawing a glowing path for Adom to follow.

When had that even started?

He waited for the tell, then struck. His open palm hit Kaiden square in the chest, channeling a surge of Fluid that sent the older fighter skidding backward several feet.

"Two," Adom said.

For the first time, Kaiden looked genuinely surprised. Then pleased. Then hungry.

"Well, well," he murmured. "This is unexpected."

Ambassador Lazarai was watching with newfound interest. Lady Soraya had taken a step closer to the circle, her expression unreadable.

"Did he just..." Karion started.

"Push my brother back?" Naia finished, her tail swishing in agitation. "Yes. That doesn't happen."

Kaiden adjusted his stance, subtly different from before. His Fluid burned brighter, the blue flames reaching higher.

"Last round," he said softly. "Let's make it count."

They clashed again, but this time Kaiden's style had changed completely. Where before he had been reactive, now he was relentlessly offensive. Each strike flowed into the next without pause, giving Adom no time to counter.

[Flow Prediction] struggled to keep up with the new pattern. Adom felt himself being pushed back, step by step, toward the edge of the circle.

He channeled more Fluid, trying to match Kaiden's intensity. For a moment, he managed to halt the advance. Their arms blurred as strikes were exchanged, blocked, countered, and re-countered.

Then Kaiden did something unexpected. He dropped all defense, leaving himself completely open as he surged forward. It was a gamble—sacrificing protection for a guaranteed hit.

Adom saw the opening, saw his chance for a third point. He struck.

But in the split second it took his fist to travel those few inches, he realized his mistake.

The opening was a trap.

Kaiden's hand closed around Adom's wrist, using the momentum of the attack against him. A twist, a pull, and suddenly Adom was airborne.

He managed to land on his feet, but Kaiden was already there, finger pressed lightly to Adom's throat.

"Three," Kaiden said softly. "Match."

A moment of silence, then applause broke out among the spectators. Duke Jasper was practically beaming. Even Ambassador Lazarai looked impressed.

Kaiden stepped back, bowing slightly to Adom. "That," he said, "was the best match I've had in months."

Adom returned the bow, his breathing only slightly elevated. "You're very skilled."

"As are you." Kaiden's smile turned thoughtful. "To reach this level at your age is simply extraordinary. Like a sapling already bearing the fruit of a mature tree."

"High praise."

"Earned praise." Kaiden wiped a light sheen of sweat from his brow. "Had you used magic as well, I suspect the outcome might have been different."

Adom didn't confirm or deny this, but Kaiden seemed to take his silence as agreement.

"Now I can accept that you defeated my sister," Kaiden said, looking satisfied. "Grow well, Adom Sylla. We'll have another match when you've had time to ripen."

As they stepped off the platform, Adom felt a subtle shift in his awareness. The familiar notification of skill improvement appeared in his mind:

[Flow Prediction has reached Level 6]

[You can now perceive probable movement paths as visible light trails. Anticipation range increased by 0.5 seconds.]

Naia rushed over, Zuni clutched in her arms. The quillick immediately leapt to Adom's shoulder, chittering frantically as he checked Adom for injuries.

"That was incredible," Naia said, her tail swishing in excitement. "I've never seen anyone push Kaiden like that."

Sam joined them, eyes wide. "What just happened? One second you were there, then you weren't, then you were flying, and—"

"Breathe, Sam," Adom suggested.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." And he was. The match had been intense but controlled. No real damage had been done on either side.

More importantly, Adom had confirmed something crucial. Even without using mana, relying only on his passive skills like [Silverback's Might] and [Fluid Control], he could hold his own against a Star Knight level opponent.

Not win, perhaps. But survive. And that was valuable information.

Kaiden was speaking with his father a few feet away, gesturing occasionally toward Adom. Ambassador Lazarai nodded, looking thoughtful.

"I think you made quite an impression," Naia observed, following Adom's gaze.

"That was the idea," Adom replied.

"Was it?" Sam asked. "I thought the idea was not drawing attention to yourself."

Adom shrugged, causing Zuni to chirp indignantly. "Sometimes plans change."

And sometimes, he thought, watching Kaiden laugh at something his father said, you found unexpected allies in the future you were trying to prevent.

*****

Ambassador Lazarai shook Adom's hand firmly. "These Wangara comm crystals your family's guild developed are quite the innovation. Our embassy has just ordered a full set."

"Thank you, Ambassador," Adom replied, genuinely appreciative. "It was an honor to be invited today."

Lady Soraya offered a slight nod. "Any friend of Naia's is welcome in our home."

Kaiden stepped forward, extending a small piece of paper. "My personal comm code," he said. "For when you want a rematch."

Adom accepted it. "I'll keep it handy."

"You should." Kaiden's smile was sharp but not unfriendly. "I expect regular progress reports."

"I'm not your student."

"No, but you're something far more interesting—a worthy opponent." Kaiden clapped him on the shoulder. "Take care, Adom Sylla. Our paths will cross again."

Duke Jasper engulfed Adom in a bear hug that nearly lifted him off the ground. "Marvelous showing, my boy! Your father will hear all about it—can't wait to tell him how you nearly bested a Tirajin champion! And I must say, these comm crystals have changed how we do business. The Lightbringer mining operations are thirty percent more efficient with real-time communication between sites."

Karion and his sisters offered more restrained farewells, though Lina insisted on getting Adom's promise to join their morning training sessions. "We'll send you a crystal message with the location," she said.

Adom nodded. The crystals had been adopted much faster than he anticipated.

Mia simply squeezed his arm and gave him a knowing look that suggested she'd noticed more than she was letting on.

Naia walked them to the garden entrance. "I'm sorry if my brother was... intense."

"He was fine," Adom assured her.

"He doesn't usually take such immediate interest in people."

"I'll consider it a compliment."

Naia sighed with mild exasperation as Zuni chirped from Adom's shoulder, drawing her attention.

"And you," she said fondly, scratching under his chin, "are welcome anytime. The kitchen staff is already setting aside special nuts for your next visit."

Zuni's quills fluttered happily.

With final goodbyes exchanged, Adom and Sam made their way back through the dimensional fold, past the red stone archway, and into the streets of the Diplomatic Quarter.

"So," Sam said once they were a safe distance away, "that went way better than expected."

"Did it?"

"Are you kidding? You fought the brother of a Tirajin diplomat to a near draw, got his personal comm code, and made connections with like, three major Houses. I'd call that a win."

Adom nodded thoughtfully. "If Kaiden turns out to be who I think he might be, these connections could be valuable."

"The Red Demon thing? You really think he's going to be that important?"

"In the timeline I remember, the Tirajin resistance bought crucial time for other nations to prepare. They were the rare ones who held out against Dragon's Breath for more than a few weeks."

"And you think having Kaiden on speed-crystal is going to change things?"

"Maybe not directly. But information is power, Sam. And allies are better than enemies."

They walked in silence for a few blocks, the evening settling around them. The Diplomatic Quarter was quieter at night, but still well-lit and patrolled.

"Hey," Sam said finally. "Let me take Zuni back to the dorm."

Adom glanced at him. "Why?"

"Because you're going to see Mr. Biggins, right? About those dreams you've been having?"

Adom didn't bother asking how Sam knew. His roommate was far more observant than most people gave him credit for.

"Yes."

"You've been tossing and turning every night this week. And muttering. It's been getting worse, hasn't it?"

Adom nodded. "The sleep quality is taking a toll."

"And you think Mr. Biggins has something that might help?"

"If anyone would, it's him."

Sam held out his hands. "Then let me take Zuni."

Zuni chirped indignantly but allowed himself to be transferred to Sam's shoulder.

"I'll meet you back at the dorm," Adom said.

"Bring me some frosties!" Sam called as they parted ways.

"Sure!"

Adom waved him off, smiling despite himself. The shop wasn't far from his current position so he arrived in less than ten minutes.

As Adom approached, he noticed the "CLOSED" sign hanging in the window. Beneath it, scrawled in what looked like fresh ink, was a note: "Unless your name is Adom Sylla. In which case, enter! Enter!"

Adom chuckled as he pushed open the door. There was a new scent today. Dust, incense, and something indefinably weird washing over him as he stepped inside.

"Hello?" Adom called into the dimly lit shop. The bell above the door had jingled when he entered, but no one appeared to greet him. "Mr. Biggi—WHOA!"

Adom jumped back, nearly knocking over a display of what appeared to be preserved eyeballs in jars.

Mr. Biggins stood directly to his right, having apparently been there the entire time.

"Gets 'em every time," the old dragon wheezed, clapping his hands together in delight. "Oh, your face! Priceless!"

"How do you do that?" Adom asked, heart rate returning to normal.

"Do what?" Biggins asked, blinking innocently.

"Never mind."

Biggins shuffled closer, peering intently at Adom's face. Despite his hunched posture, he was still tall enough that Adom had to look up slightly to meet his gaze.

"The shadows," Biggins observed, tapping one long finger against his chin. "Dreams still troubling you, boy?"

Adom blinked in surprise. "Actually, that's why I came to see you."

"Of course it is! Why else would you visit an old dragon at this hour? Not for my sparkling conversation, surely."

Biggins gestured toward the cluttered back of the shop. "Come, come. Sit. Tell old Biggins everything."

They made their way past shelves crammed with oddities—jars of creatures preserved in amber-colored liquid, books bound in materials Adom couldn't identify, and objects that seemed to shift when viewed from the corner of one's eye.

Adom settled onto a surprisingly comfortable chair while Biggins perched on what appeared to be a stack of ancient tomes.

"So," the dragon said, leaning forward. "The dreams?"

Adom told him everything—the shadow figure, the increasing frequency of the dream-walking episodes, and the most recent development.

"This time I saw Law's farm," he explained. "The apple tree there. I'm certain of it. There has to be a connection between the tree and these dreams, even though I examined it before and didn't find anything unusual."

"Oh?" Biggins went very still. "You're sure it was Law's tree? The exact one?"

"Positive."

The old dragon suddenly leapt to his feet. "Marvelous! Simply marvelous!"

He scuttled toward the back room, muttering excitedly. "Where did I put it? It was here just a century ago... or was it two? No, no, must have moved it during the Great Dusting of '17..."

Adom watched in bemusement as Biggins disappeared into the shadowy recesses of his storeroom. Crashes and thuds echoed, accompanied by occasional exclamations of "Not that!" and "Who put this here?"

"Mr. Biggins?" Adom called. "What's going on?"

"Patience, boy!" came the muffled reply. "Ah! There it is!"

Biggins emerged triumphantly, cradling something in his hands. He set it gently on the counter between them.

It was a bowl.

Or at least, it had probably been a bowl once. Now it looked like a dented, dusty metal hemisphere with its lid firmly secured. Strange symbols were etched around its rim, barely visible beneath decades (or centuries) of grime.

"What is that?" Adom asked.

Biggins blinked at him. "It's a bowl."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because I assumed it must be more than just a bowl if you were looking for it so enthusiastically."

Biggins chuckled. "Well, yes, of course it's more than just a bowl. There's a djinn in it."

Adom stared. "A djinn."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Biggins tilted his head curiously. "Why what, my boy? Why is there a djinn in a closed old bowl? Why do I have it? Why did I look for it? Why do I think it answers your questions? What sort of why are we talking about?"

Adom hesitated. He wanted to ask all of those questions and more, but he knew from experience that conversations with Biggins could spiral into philosophical rabbit holes if he wasn't careful.

"Why," he finally asked, focusing on his priorities, "is this a solution to my problem?"

"Ah!" Biggins looked pleased. "You're learning! Good question."

He pushed the bowl toward Adom. "First, clean it off. Then, channel some mana into those runes."

Adom took the bowl reluctantly. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Haven't I?" Biggins sat back, watching him expectantly.

With a sigh, Adom wiped away the dust with his sleeve. The symbols became clearer—ancient runes that seemed to shift under his gaze. He channeled a thin stream of mana into them, and they began to glow with a soft blue light.

"Tell me, Adom," Biggins said conversationally, "aren't you on school break now?"

"Yes?" Adom replied, confused by the sudden change in topic.

"Well then!" Biggins clapped his hands together, eyes twinkling. "How would you like to visit the Fae Realm?"

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