Aelion Brightwind's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Aelion climbed the bright stone steps of the gemstone castle and made himself stand still. Inside, nobles drank and laughed beneath stained glass. He had spent months earning this invitation. Tonight he wanted one thing: for the noble who once called him a pretty distraction to truly see him. Outside the entry, a small ivy-covered cottage marked the noble's seat of power. Every guest passed it. Every guest understood. Aelion passed it too, the tall sapphire stone at his hip catching the light. The runes along its surface were his family's, older than the noble's house. He carried it openly for the first time. Inside, a pink centaur poured wine for the high table. The noble did not look at her. He looked through her, the way he looked through everyone. Aelion watched, and felt the old wound press against his ribs. Then the noble turned. His gaze swept the room and stopped. On Aelion. On the stone at his hip. The dismissal in his face thinned, replaced by something sharper. Curiosity. For one unguarded breath, the noble was simply looking at him, honestly, without knowing he was doing it. Aelion held still. He did not smile. He did not shrink. He met the look and let it land. The noble's brow creased, as if a small puzzle had appeared where none had been. Then a servant spoke, and the moment closed. But it had happened. Aelion had been seen.