Third Person pov :
Eight years.
It had been eight long, beautiful, unbroken years since the shadows of Malakor had been burned away by the light of the White Wolf. The Silver Moon Estate was no longer just a packhouse; it was a sprawling, thriving sanctuary of white marble, lush gardens, and unbreakable peace.
On the training fields behind the manor, the afternoon sun beat down on a scene of pure, chaotic energy.
"Auric! Watch your left flank!"
At eight years old, Auric was already showing the terrifying grace of his royal blood. He dodged a wooden training spear swung by one of the instructors. His eyes were sharp and focused. He didn't just block; he redirected the force with a calm, fluid motion that perfectly mirrored Caspian’s combat style.
"He's too slow!" Ryker laughed l
