What he saw — he had no words for it.
His mind simply stopped.
It was the first time he had felt something so strange, so deeply wrong, that he couldn't even begin to process it.
Because the face on that shadow —
Was the exact same face he saw in the mirror every day.
But instead of eyes, there were only two burning points of light. No body. No ears. No hair. Just a shifting mass of smoke — wearing his face.
The moment he looked at it, his heart slammed against his ribs. His breathing went jagged. He tried to scream — but he couldn't hear anything. He couldn't feel anything. The dread was swallowing him from the inside.
He was breaking. Crying. Thrashing.
Then —
Someone grabbed his hand and pulled him back hard.
*Gasp.*
---
Veil's eyes snapped open.
Light. People.
Viscount Rudious. Sir Jorald. Drake. A few guards — all standing around his bed.
Seeing the light, seeing the familiar faces — a rush of relief hit him all at once. But his body wouldn't stop shaking. Tears were still running down his face.
He lunged forward and grabbed Drake — hugging him as tight as his small arms could manage.
Trembling. Completely.
---
Rudious and Jorald stood in silence.
They both knew words wouldn't help right now.
Rudious gestured — quietly, once. The guards filed out without a sound. The two men followed, leaving Veil clinging to Drake in the dark.
---
The heavy door clicked shut behind them.
"Jorald." Rudious's voice was low. "Let me tell you something."
"What is it, My Lord?"
"I asked Robert to find out about Veil's past."
"Hmm. And the report?"
Rudious's face changed. His voice dropped further. "He is an escaped child from the Cultists' lab."
Jorald's eyes went wide. His jaw locked.
"Where is that lab."
"Solaris destroyed it."
A long pause.
"Ah." Jorald's fists clenched — knuckles white. "Those bastards. We thought we had wiped them out." His voice dropped to something dangerous. "If not for Madam Lily's promise..."
Rudious placed a hand on his shoulder. Steady. Heavy.
"We do nothing for now. It isn't just the Cultists — there are far greater powers moving in the dark. We must stay cautious." A pause. "If they find out we are here... this entire territory will be in danger. The children will be in danger."
Jorald took a slow breath. Forced himself still.
"Hmm."
---
From inside the room — the crying had stopped.
Rudious pushed the door open slightly. Both of them looked in.
The two brothers had fallen back into a deep sleep — holding onto each other.
Rudious looked at them for a long moment.
"Brother," he said quietly. To no one in particular.
Jorald steadied him with a look. Then stifled a yawn — deliberately, to ease the weight in the air.
"My Lord. It's late. We should sleep."
"Yes." Rudious pulled the door shut gently. He stationed a guard outside.
And both men walked away into the dark corridor.
---
The next few days passed quietly.
Winter had reached its peak. A biting chill settled over Velrend — the kind that got into the stone walls and stayed there.
Veil was quiet. His mind was still turning over things that were completely beyond his understanding. The dream lingered at the edges — not sharp anymore, but present.
He stayed close to Drake.
And Drake, seeing him like that, did the only thing he knew how to do. He dragged Veil out to the training ground, handed him a wooden sword, and started teaching him the basics. Just the two of them — light exercises in the cold morning air. No pressure. No words about what had happened.
Just movement. Just routine.
Slowly — the shadow began to fade.
---
A few more days passed.
Then the quiet of the estate broke.
Dozens of carriages and armored horses arrived at the manor gates. Nobles, officials, and knights stepped out and made their way into the grand hall without ceremony.
Inside — a long, polished oak table stretched across the room. Everyone took their places along the edges and waited.
The heavy doors opened.
Viscount Rudious, Sir Jorald, and Butler Hans entered.
Every person in the room stood at once. They bowed — deep and without hesitation.
Rudious took his seat at the head of the table. The others followed.
---
Butler Hans stepped forward. His voice carried clearly across the silent hall.
"Welcome to the Winter Council. This is our final and fifth council of the year. I — Vice President of the Council, Hans of Velrend — officially commence this session."
He looked toward the head of the table.
Viscount Rudious raised his hand slightly. "I — President of the Council — am present."
To his right, Sir Jorald spoke. "I — Knight Master of House Falcon and Captain of the Black Falcons — am present."
The roll call moved down the right side of the table.
A well-dressed, slightly chubby man stood. "Minister of Business Affairs — Byonis Mouny. Present."
Next, a thin man with a sharp black mustache rose. "Minister of Financial Affairs — Jolly Velrend. Present."
"Minister of Public Affairs. Present."
One by one, the civilian ministers stated their attendance.
Then the left side — military and defense.
A broad-shouldered man stood. No silk, no shine — just a perfectly fitted dark uniform that sat on him like it had always been there. "Sir Velrond Squire — Commander of the Royal Knight Unit. Present."
Beside him, a man in half-armor. "Sir Cont Velrend — Knight Commander of the Velrend Border Force. Present."
The remaining armored men stood and gave their attendance in turn.
When the last man sat down, Hans nodded once.
"Very well."
He looked across the table.
"Let the proceedings of the Winter Council begin."
---
**[Chapter 22 — End ]**