City of Arvalen, Southern Warehouses

The air in Arvalen smelled of spices and sea salt. It was a vibrant city, built on white stone terraces that descended toward the ocean, with colorful alleys, flower-filled balconies, noisy vendors, and bards on every corner. The streets danced with laughter, markets bustled with life, and children ran freely among floating carpets and enchanted fruits.

Elion appeared with Kael in the center of the main square—a golden flash more discreet than usual, just enough to avoid causing panic. Even so, some pigeons exploded into flight, and an old man dropped his teapot.

Kael took a misstep and looked around, stunned.

"You brought us to... Arvalen?"

"Yes," said Elion, with that carefree tone that indicated either millennial planning or total impulse — you never knew. "Vacation, remember? Sun, good food, and absolutely no one trying to stab us for the time being."

She snapped her fingers, and two benches in the shade magically rearranged themselves to form a makeshift throne of cushions. Elion flopped down with a satisfied sigh, pulling Kael by the sleeve to sit beside her.

"You're serious," he muttered, still watching the square. "After all that... you really took me out of there to... eat grilled fish and look at the sea?"

"Yes." She pointed to a stall where a huge fish was turning over enchanted coals. "Have you ever seen an anchovy singing while it grills? Because you will today."

Kael ran his hand over his face, trying to regain some dignity. He was the product of a powerful lineage, trained for war decisions and delicate treaties. And now he was sitting on a magical sofa with his mother, listening to the sound of stringed instruments and a fish singing a maritime lament.

"You know I have... responsibilities, technically."

"You're eleven years old."

"Physiologically, no."

"Psychologically, absolutely yes," Elion replied, picking up a floating grape from a bowl that appeared out of nowhere.

Kael was silent. The sea breeze ruffled his dark hair, and the smells of the market were almost intoxicating: crystallized honey candy, exotic flowers, something spicy coming from a cauldron of spices. He looked around at the city—lively, chaotic, unconcerned with wars or magical bloodlines.

"It's beautiful here," he said at last.

"Yes," Elion replied softly. "And no one here knows your name. No one calls you Young Master, Your Majesty, blah blah blah. Just Kael. My Kael."

He lowered his eyes.

"I don't even know who 'my Kael' is anymore."

Elion stared at him, and her expression changed. She snapped her fingers again, and a field of silence enveloped them, muffling the sounds of the square—now seeming to be on the other side of a thick veil.

"Do you want to know why I really came?"

Kael hesitated, then nodded.

"Because those little girls decided to do something stupid," she said. "And your grandmother loves to do stupid things too, so she decided to give them a chance to do this stupid thing." Elion said, looking at the horizon.

"And what stupid thing would that be?" Kael asked.

"She's going to do the same thing she did to you with those three girls who are completely obsessed with you. Their excuse is that my mother got in the way of her plans. So your grandmother decided to give them a little test. And they passed."

Kael frowned, crossing his arms as he sank deeper into the enchanted cushions. The field of silence around him created a comfortable cocoon, but Elion's words made him uncomfortable, as if he had swallowed stones.

"Are you telling me," he began slowly, "that Grandma just... decided to age the three of them? The same way she did to me?"

"Not exactly the same way," Elion corrected, stretching his legs and nibbling on a caramelized almond that floated into his hand. "She didn't force anything. She just... presented a choice. And the three of them accepted."

"That's very problematic," Kael said, shaking his head. "We shouldn't be using ancient magic to stretch people's lives like rubber bands. It's not just the body that changes, Mom. The mind changes, relationships change. The people around you change with you. It's a kind of violence."

Elion watched him for a long moment. Then she smiled, but there was little amusement in that smile.

"And you're right," she said simply. "It's violent. It's unfair. And it should never be the first choice. But you also know that the world has never played fair with us. Your grandmother sees the threads of fate as a burning loom. And when she sees a weak spot, she pulls. Even if it burns everyone's fingers in the process."

Kael lowered his gaze. The sea breeze suddenly felt colder.

"But that doesn't mean it's right," he muttered.

"No," said Elion, "but it's not completely wrong either. Because—like you—those girls are no ordinary children. Amelia is the daughter of a house that has produced incredible generals for the Human Empire. Sylphie was born among the Elves and is an avatar of the World Tree. And Irelia... well, you know Irelia, her family has some of the best sword techniques in the world, as well as easily producing Sword Kings for the last thirty years."

Kael couldn't help but chuckle despite the tension. "Irelia probably gave orders to the midwife when she was born."

"Exactly," said Elion, pleased with the reaction. "The truth is that these three have carried the weight of nobility, expectation, and preparation since they took their first steps. The idea of childhood for them was always more decorative than real. They already thought and acted like twenty-year-old women. Maybe not in the deepest emotional sense... but in strategy, politics, loyalty, sacrifice? Definitely."

Kael was silent. The truth of that was uncomfortable—but undeniable. He knew Amelia and her analytical gaze that seemed to weigh any room before she even entered it. He knew Sylphie's deep calm, the kind that even chaos couldn't shake. And Irelia... well, Irelia slept with a sword under her pillow.

"Even so..." he began, "it changes things between us. They'll look at me and remember that I was also a boy who had his childhood stolen from him. And now... they have too."

"Maybe that's why you understand each other better than anyone else," said Elion, now more serious. "Because no matter how old your bodies are, you are all survivors of the same theft. Theft of time. Of choices."

She leaned back against the pillows, her golden eyes fixed on Kael. "And maybe that's also why you can decide what to do with this new time. Make it count."

Kael let the silence linger. The magical field around them filtered out the outside world, but he could still hear, in the distance, the sound of laughter, waves lapping against the rocks, and even the roasted fish letting out one last melancholy verse of its maritime fado.

"So what does Grandma want with this?" he asked. "To create... a group of accelerated heirs? Child soldiers with intensive emotional training?"

"She wants... possibilities," Elion replied, and there was a slight tone of exhaustion in that word. "She thinks the world will collapse faster than we can patch it up. So instead of saving the world, she wants to leave tools ready for when everything falls apart. You are those tools."

"And you agree with that?"

Elion hesitated. A rarity.

"I agree that the world will collapse," she said at last. "But I don't want you to be just a key or a sword. That's why I brought you here. Before you become just another cog."

Kael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What about them?"

"If they're smart—and they are—they'll take advantage of the time they've gained. Not to fight, but to discover who they are now. Maybe even... to discover who you are. The real you. Without titles, without prophecies."

Kael stared at her for a moment, and there was something new in his gaze—it wasn't fear, nor frustration. It was the weight of a life that, despite all the magic, had no real shortcuts.

"I don't know if I can allow myself that."

"Then start slowly," said Elion. "Start with roasted fish and a nice breeze. Then, who knows, you might find a piece of yourself in their laughter, or in a silly stumble on a magical staircase. Stolen time never comes back, Kael. But sometimes, we find what we lost somewhere else."

He took a deep breath. He looked at the bustling market across the silent field. And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to think that maybe... just maybe... he could be just Kael for a few days.

Even if the world was slowly falling apart.

"You said all that just to take the blame off yourself and put it on my grandmother... Didn't you?" Kael suddenly snapped, breaking the mood with his sharp voice.

Elion turned his golden gaze back to him, but before he could say anything, Kael continued: "Oh, sure... I bet it was you who suggested the test. Let me guess..." He changed his tone, assuming a sarcastic imitation. "These girls aren't worthy of my Kael, so don't give them anything for free."

Elion held his gaze for a moment and let out a long, tired sigh.

"Why do I always forget how well you know me..." she muttered, almost to herself.