Night had deepened over the northern mountains. The lake reflected nothing now, only shadows and the faint glimmer of stars. Aerys moved silently with Rosis, leaving the others near the shore.
The plan was simple: cook the meat in secret, far from the castle. Out of sight, out of reach. They carried the goat and deer into a ravine several kilometers away, where the walls of stone hid any smoke or firelight.
Aerys set the fire with precision, feeding the kindling carefully, controlling each spark.
"Six kilometers isn't far," Rosis murmured, adjusting the pile of meat. "But it feels like a lifetime hauling it here."
Aerys did not answer. Words were unnecessary. Every movement was calculated: placement of logs, height of the flame, distance from the smoke to the ridge. Every detail mattered.
The meat sizzled and browned. Aerys instructed each member of the clan to tend to a section, to rotate between fire, knives, and water. Even the youngest— pyrena and noheas—were given tasks. Efficiency, training, survival: all intertwined.
They did not cook for taste. They cooked to survive.
While the group worked, Aerys's mind wandered to Titos. His rival's soldiers had been gone for days, scavenging the mountains, surviving on berries, roots, anything they could find. The thought made Aerys frown.
Rosis whispered, "We need to check them. They're weak, starving. It's time."
Aerys nodded. They left the fire smoldering and crept toward a nearby thicket. Through the branches, they saw four of Titos's soldiers crouched around a carcass. Their hands and faces were smeared with blood; their eyes wild.
some days without fire, some days of scavenging berries and bitter roots, and the men had begun to revert to something feral.
"They'll fall sick soon,"Rosis muttered. "If we help, Titos gains power. If we don't… they'll survive poorly. Either way, it's a choice."
Aeryss eyes were hard. "Let them starve. It's justice. They chose this. We survive."
Aerys weighed the morality in silence. Survival required cruelty sometimes. A lesson he had learned slowly, painfully. The law of fire: strength and discipline above sentiment.
He returned to the ravine. The meat was ready. The youngest cadets hesitated at the blood and heat, but under Aerys's quiet command, they completed their tasks.
Back at the castle, the next morning, news arrived of aggression. Léa returned first, limping, exhausted. Her day's harvest stolen, her courage tested. She recounted the encounter briefly, eyes downcast.
Aerys called Rosis and Callius aside.
"They took her food," Callius growled. "Which of those idiots—?"
"Doesn't matter," Aerys interrupted. "They are hungry. That hunger dictates behavior. Discipline, strategy, patience—those are our weapons."
Roque looked unconvinced. "And if they attack us?"
"Our clan follows one command, one mind. Titos's men scatter at disarray." Aerys said.
They made plans. Maps were drawn slates recovered from the castle's storage rooms. Every ridge, every ravine, every hidden pass marked. The clan learned observation and timing, scouting and evasion, not brute force. They would win by knowing, by patience, by foresight—not by strength alone. Even the youngest cadets began to understand. pyrena and noheas watched Aerys silently, learning to anticipate movements, to notice the smallest change in wind or shadow.
The moral of survival was simple: only those who could control fear, hunger, and impatience would endure.
Later that evening, as they sat around the concealed fire, Aerys reflected. The knife in his hand, now clean, felt like more than a tool. It was a lesson in control.
Callius appeared from the shadows, smiling faintly. "You've taught them well."
"They are learning," Aerys replied. "Not just to survive, but to think. To act. And to follow when necessary."
Cassius looked to him, expression softening. "You're harder than any of us expected."
Aerys allowed a brief smile. "Hardness keeps has keep me alive "
The mountains echoed with silence. Far below, Titos's soldiers scavenged, House celerion's survival depended not on violence yet, but on strategy, patience, and the discipline of the few. Aerys gazed at the fire, its glow reflecting in his eyes. Survival was more than food or weapons—it was thought, planning intertwined with action .