His body was lying on the bed exactly where Julian had left it. Sowhere below, the inn had gone entirely quiet.
Julian turned his attention briefly back to his own body. He established the connection between his two bodies and confird both were stable.
Then he stood.
Kraven’s legs protested imdiately. Julian took one step and nearly went sideways into the bedpost before he caught himself.
He stood still for a mont and waited.
Alright, he thought. Let’s try that again.
Second step. Better. Third — passable. He crossed the room slowly, getting used to the body’s weight distribution.
He reached the basin and looked into the mirror.
Kraven looked back.
Julian opened his eyes wide. The mirror copied it. He smiled—Kraven’s mouth pulled into an expression it clearly didn’t make often. He took a deep breath and watched Kraven’s chest rise, his nose flexing slightly with the exhale.
He turned his head left. The mirror copied it.
He leaned closer until Kraven’s face filled it completely.
In a way, it was deeply unsettling. Julian was looking at the man from the outside—the very man he had been watching all evening from inside.
Kraven, he thought, is finally mine.
He straightened.
"If I have to be clear," he said quietly to the mirror, in Kraven’s voice, "his castle is sowhere in the wealthy zone of Ezakael."
The mirror offered no opinion.
He spent the next two hours getting used to the body properly.
He began with basic exercises—walking around the room, then stepping into the corridor when it was empty enough. He went up and down the stairs, familiarizing himself with the movent. He channeled fire magic and felt the mana flow through the channels in his body.
By the ti he decided to leave the inn, the stumbling was gone. The body moved and stopped when he willed it to, and that was enough for now.
He checked his own body one last ti. It lay stable, breathing steadily even without his active consciousness. Using Kraven’s hands, he pulled the blanket over it, then left the room.
The night air outside was cold. The streets around the Silver Moon Inn were nearly empty, and Julian just stood there for a mont, orienting himself.
If Julian rembered correctly, Kraven’s castle was located in the wealthy district of Ezakael. It was roughly a twenty-minute walk, and Julian already knew the route from Kraven’s mories.
He started walking.
The city at night was a different place from the city in daylight. The streets felt narrow despite being empty, and the buildings sohow felt taller. His footsteps were the loudest thing in most of the streets he moved through, and he kept them steady and unhurried.
The transition from the comrcial district to the wealthy one was sudden. One mont, the streets felt suffocating; the next, they widened enough for two carriages to pass comfortably. The buildings were lavish and well-spaced, all constructed with careful planning.
The gate into the inner district had two guards.
They saw him coming from thirty feet away, and Julian watched recognition dawn on their faces. They exchanged glances, then bowed their heads. It seed Kraven had a notorious reputation here.
Julian said nothing. He simply passed through the gate, ignoring everything.
**
Finally, after about five minutes of walking, the castle ca into view.
It was massive—more a fortress than a residence. It was three stories tall, built with pale stones that glead faintly under the moonlight. The surrounding gates were equally imposing, guarded by four watchtowers, one at each corner.
Three mages stood guard before the gate.
Julian assessed them in a single glance as he approached—sovereign level, all three, which ant Kraven had been spending serious money on his personal security.
They saw him and dropped imdiately to one knee.
Julian stopped before them.
"Stand."
The three rose at once. The oldest among them stepped forward—a man with grayed hair and wrinkles all over his face.
"Young lord, welco back."
There was sothing restrained in his tone. A pause. A hesitation.
Julian noticed it imdiately. He waited for so mont before speaking again:
"Go on, Eric. Tell ."
The na ca to him effortlessly, drawn from Kraven’s mories. Eric was one of Kraven’s most trusted guards, treated almost like family. Julian could easily imagine the weight of that trust and the man’s worth.
The man leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.
Young lord. The Duke is here."
Julian raised his brows.
The shock was genuine—not his own, but Kraven’s. Even though he was no longer alive or present, his father’s lingering presence made sothing in the body respond.
Julian felt it move through the body like a cold current and let none of it reach his face.
He held the silence for a mont—long enough to be natural, short enough not to alarm Eric—and then simply nodded once.
"When did he arrive?"
"This afternoon, young lord. He brought four n with him." Eric paused. "He said he would wait."
Julian looked past Eric at the castle entrance.
Duke Astran.
He thought quickly. Kraven’s mories of his father were clear enough. The Duke was a formidable man and very upfront. Once he set his mind on sothing, he would do whatever it took to make it happen, even exile his own son if it ant serving justice.
Julian filed the possibilities carefully and looked back at Eric.
"Has he eaten?"
Eric blinked. Clearly not the first question he had expected. "Yes, young lord. The kitchen served him two hours ago."
"Good." Julian moved toward the gate. "Don’t announce ."
He passed through the gate, and the courtyard opened up beyond it. He stopped in the middle of the pathway, standing there under the open night sky.
Eric and the other guards didn’t follow. They knew better than to crowd Kraven in his own courtyard.
Julian closed his eyes and went inward.
He moved through Kraven’s remaining mories quickly. He pushed through everything available. His father’s face, his father’s voice, the specific dynamic between them across years of complicated history.
He found nothing that explained an unannounced visit.
He pushed further. Searched for anything recent.
Still nothing.
User Comments
0 comments from readers