Taryn sat with his parents now, the three of them gathered around a low table where fragrant tea had been served. It was a deep golden brew, rich in scent, subtly sweet on the tongue, and somehow calming—like the warmth of childhood memories in a cup.
His mother poured gently. "Drink this slowly. It's a restorative blend your Second Sister made just for you."
"Second Sister?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
His father gave a faint smile. "She's still an alchemist apprentice, but her concoctions are more effective than most professionals. You'll meet her soon."
Before he could ask more, hurried footsteps echoed outside the hall.
A servant approached, head bowed, and knelt respectfully. "Master, Madam… urgent news from the capital."
Taryn's father frowned, but gestured for him to speak.
"Your third son—Master Rael—has been appointed as a minister under the Emperor's own court."
The room went utterly silent.
Even the quiet bubbling of the tea kettle seemed to hush.
"Minister…" his mother repeated, the word trembling from her lips like a prayer.
The servant nodded quickly. "Yes, madam. Not just any minister. He was personally praised by the Prime Minister during the assembly. Some even whispered he may be one of the successors to the Grand Chancellor's seat."
Taryn blinked.
Rael.
His third brother.
In a rush, the memories of that name bloomed in his mind like old photographs coming into focus—warm, crisp, and intimate.
Rael had always been the soft-spoken one. While his older siblings trained with swords or cultivated under waterfalls, Rael had stayed behind with scrolls and ink. Not because he couldn't fight—he could—but because he found power in thought, strategy, diplomacy. His mind had always moved three steps ahead.
But Rael wasn't cold or distant. He was kind. The sort of brother who snuck medicine into Taryn's soup because he couldn't bear to see him in pain. The one who read to him under the lantern light when his body was too weak to get out of bed.
In the modern world, Rael would have been a statesman. Or a professor. Maybe a tech CEO with millions of followers.
But here?
He'd carved a path through scholars, nobles, and cultivators alike to sit beside the Emperor himself.
"That's… amazing," Taryn whispered, almost to himself.
His father was already standing, pacing in rare excitement. "That boy! I knew it. I always knew he would rise."
His mother, a rare tear shimmering in the corner of her eye, clasped her hands. "He wrote to us last month but didn't say anything… that sly boy."
The pride in the room swelled like a gentle storm. Not loud or boastful—just deeply felt. Earned.
Taryn felt it wrap around him too, warming his heart.
"He used to sit with me when I was sick," Taryn said quietly, staring into the teacup. "I remember… he told me once, 'Even if I can't cure you, I'll build a world where you never have to suffer again.'"
His father paused mid-step. His mother covered her mouth with her hand.
That was Rael.
He didn't just love—he built, he protected, he prepared.
Even from the capital, even while rising in power, Rael had never stopped being a brother.
"He'll return next month for the winter feast," his mother said, her voice steadier now. "You'll see him soon."
Taryn nodded.
He wasn't the same boy Rael once knew.
But that didn't matter.
When they met again, he'd show his brother that he wasn't just the fragile child anymore.
He was walking now.
He had taken the first step.
And soon… he'd walk beside giants.