13. Kieran

13

KIERAN

I stand in my private chambers, surrounded by an array of scrying mirrors. Each one shows a different part of the Abyssal Gauntlet, but my eyes are fixed on the largest mirror, tracking Aria's progress. The room is dark save for the ethereal glow of the mirrors, casting shifting shadows across my face.

As I watch Aria navigate a particularly treacherous corridor, fond memories of my own trial in the Gauntlet flood back. The fear, the exhilaration, the sweet moments of despair. But where I had stumbled, Aria seems to dance. Her movements are fluid, her decisions quick and decisive.

She approaches a chamber I remember all too well. The Floor of Falling Stars, we called it. Pressure-sensitive tiles that, when stepped on, would shoot searing bolts of magical energy upward. I had crossed it through sheer determination and no small amount of pain.

Aria pauses at the entrance, her eyes scanning the room. I lean closer to the mirror, breath caught in my throat. What will she do?

To my amazement, she begins to sing. A haunting melody that causes the tiles to vibrate. As they shake, their patterns become visible. With a grace that borders on precognition, Aria picks her way across the chamber, never once triggering a tile.

I can't help the laugh that escapes me. Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

My elation is short-lived. In the next chamber, Aria encounters a soul-draining specter, a being of pure malevolence that had nearly ended my own journey. She doesn't see it materializing behind her, its ghostly tendrils reaching for her essence.

"Behind you!" I shout, forgetting for a moment that she can't hear me. My hand reaches out, as if I could pull her to safety through the mirror.

At the last second, Aria spins, narrowly avoiding the specter's grasp. The battle that ensues is fierce, pushing her to her limits. I watch, my entire body tense, as she finally banishes the entity with a complex spell I don't remember teaching her.

Relief floods through me, followed immediately by a wave of confusion. Why am I so invested in her survival? She's just another student, a potential asset to the Winter Court. Isn't she?

I force myself to step back, to observe more clinically. Aria is using the artifacts I gifted her with surprising skill. The nightmare essence, in particular, seems to have become an extension of her will. She wields it not just as a weapon, but as a tool for manipulation and misdirection.

What really catches my attention, however, is her innovative use of spells. She combines techniques in ways I've never seen, creating effects that shouldn't be possible for a witch of her experience. It's... impressive.

And somewhat unsettling.

… I think I may be … in love?

As she faces a particularly challenging puzzle, I find myself holding my breath, silently urging her on. When she solves it with a flash of insight, I feel a surge of pride so strong it startles me.

For a moment, my carefully constructed facade cracks. I see in Aria not just a student or a pawn, but something more.

Someone I genuinely care for.

The realization hits me like a physical blow. I stumble back from the mirrors, my mind reeling. This can't be happening. I am Kieran, the Demon Lich King, Lord of Shadows and Nightmare. I do not form attachments. I do not care.

A knock at the door snaps me back to reality. I compose myself just as several Ravencrest faculty members enter, demanding updates on Aria's progress.

"She is performing adequately," I say, my voice cold and disinterested. "As expected of one with her potential."

They pepper me with questions, but I reveal little, maintaining a mask of aloof observation. Inside, however, I'm in turmoil.

My attention is drawn back to the mirror as Aria faces a moral dilemma. She's discovered a shortcut that would guarantee her success, but using it would trap another student in the Gauntlet forever. I hold my breath, suddenly desperate to see what she'll choose.

To my immense relief - and admiration - Aria rejects the shortcut. She chooses the harder path, even knowing it might cost her the trial. In that moment, I see in her the potential not just for great power, but for true leadership.

As she enters one of the Gauntlet's most dangerous areas, a surge of protective instinct washes over me. Before I can stop myself, I'm weaving subtle magics, manipulating the Gauntlet to give her a fighting chance.

It's a clear violation of the rules, and guilt gnaws at me even as I justify it to myself. I'm not ensuring her victory, I reason, just... leveling the playing field.

I watch as Aria's confidence grows with each challenge she overcomes. Her power is expanding at an astonishing rate. Pride swells within me, but it's tinged with unease. At this rate, she might soon rival my own abilities.

The thought should terrify me. Instead, I find myself fascinated by the possibility. What heights could she reach with the right guidance? What could we achieve together?

As Aria delves deeper into the Gauntlet, facing ever greater dangers, I remain transfixed by the mirror. My earlier resolve to maintain distance has crumbled entirely. I am invested now, for better or worse.

The Gauntlet continues, and with it, the transformation of not just Aria, but myself as well. All I can do now is watch, wait, and wonder what the future holds.