The door swung open with a slight creak, the soft hum of hospital machinery filling the quiet space. Denwen barely had time to register the sudden shift in atmosphere before a booming, familiar voice shattered the stillness.
"Ah, Principal, it's a pleasure to have you here," Varek greeted, standing up from his seat and offering a respectful nod.
Stepping into the room was Dvalin, the ever-charismatic and formidable dwarven principal of the academy. His thick, braided silver beard swayed slightly as he moved, the heavy stomps of his boots making it clear that subtlety was not in his vocabulary. His crimson and gold-trimmed robe flared slightly as he approached, his sharp eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and authority.
"Ah, Hale," Dvalin grunted, reaching out to clap a surprisingly strong hand on Varek's shoulder, pulling him upright with ease. "I'm really sorry about what happened to your boy."
Varek let out a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "You know how kids are. We were all like this once, weren't we?"
The dwarf's deep belly laugh rumbled through the room, shaking even the IV stand next to Denwen's bed. "Hah! Aye, you sure were. But your boy? He's got a wild streak bigger than yours ever was."
Denwen, still curled under his hospital blanket, groaned internally. Great. More people to remind me how reckless I am.
Dvalin turned slightly, motioning to the two figures behind him. "Oh, right! Let me do proper introductions," he said, stroking his beard. "This here is Agrona, and this fine gentleman is Vorden. You should know Agrona already, and Vorden here is one of our top combat instructors—came in not long after you graduated."
Agrona, ever composed, gave a curt nod, adjusting her thin-rimmed glasses with a measured, practiced movement. She was tall and poised, her dark violet cloak hanging perfectly off her shoulders, her piercing gaze sharp even behind the lenses. Vorden, on the other hand, simply gave a lazy wave, his broad frame exuding a relaxed but dangerous air. His muscular arms crossed, as if he was already evaluating the troublemaker lying in bed.
Dvalin beamed. "These two here are your boy's masters."
There was a moment of silence as Varek turned slowly, his gaze shifting from Denwen—who immediately tried to shrink further into his blanket—to Agrona and Vorden, then back to Denwen, then back to them.
His lips twitched. His brows furrowed. He blinked once. Twice.
"…My boy?" Varek repeated, his voice laced with incredulity.
Denwen gulped.
Varek turned to Dvalin. "My boy has two personal instructors?"
Dvalin's smirk widened. "Aye."
Varek crossed his arms. "Two dedicated instructors?"
"Aye," Dvalin nodded again.
"…For Denwen?"
Denwen could practically feel the moment Varek processed that fact.
"Well," Varek sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. "This is a surprise. I barely had an instructor until my third year, and this brat already has two?" His hand shot out to smack Denwen's leg under the blanket with just enough force to make his point.
"Ow! What was that for?!" Denwen hissed, emerging from his cocoon, glaring at him.
Varek clicked his tongue. "For being an overachiever."
Denwen scoffed. "Oh, sure, nearly getting my ribs turned to powder means I'm an overachiever."
Dvalin roared with laughter. "Hah! Don't take it too personally, lad. Hale's just bitter. You see, back in the day, he and his friends trained under me. Are you saying that I'm not better than these two combined?" The dwarf smirked, puffing out his chest.
Vorden immediately ran a hand down his face, while Agrona simply adjusted her glasses again, the briefest twitch of discomfort visible in her otherwise stoic expression.
Varek, to his credit, kept his mouth shut this time.
"I see he's doing fine," Vorden said, stepping forward, his sharp eyes scanning Denwen.
Denwen frowned. "I literally just got out of a near-death situation, and you're acting like I should be up and training already."
Without missing a beat, Vorden reached forward and ripped the blanket off of him.
Denwen yelped.
"Come on! Can't you see I'm in no shape to be scolded?" Denwen protested, glaring up at the man towering over him.
Vorden merely stuck a finger in his ear, looking unbothered as he flicked away imaginary dust. "Hmm. Yeah, he's fine."
Agrona, arms folded, gave a slight nod of agreement. "Mm. He's conscious and capable of talking back. He's fine."
Denwen slumped, defeated.
"I hate this place," he muttered under his breath.
Dvalin, hearing that, slapped Denwen on the back so hard the boy nearly fell off the bed.
"Hah! That's the spirit, lad!"
The room burst into lighthearted laughter, even Agrona's lips twitching slightly.
Denwen sighed deeply.
This was going to be a long afternoon.
---
The echoes of laughter still lingering in the air. The atmosphere in the hospital room had lightened considerably, but the moment Dvalin settled himself onto a stool, his expression shifted. The warmth in his eyes didn't disappear, but the weight behind them deepened, signaling that the lighthearted moments had come to an end.
Vorden remained standing by the window, arms crossed as he gazed outside, his reflection barely visible against the glass. Agrona, ever composed, sat elegantly on the far end of the bed, her posture straight, hands neatly folded on her lap. Varek leaned back in his chair, arms resting on his knees, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.
Denwen, however, lay reclined against his pillows, his body still aching, though the pain was now a dull throb rather than searing agony. He could feel the weight of the conversation before it even began.
Dvalin exhaled, rubbing his knee absentmindedly before leaning forward. "I'm glad to see you've recovered to this extent, lad. When I first heard a student from my academy was involved in this whole fiasco, I wasn't exactly shocked. But when I found out what really happened—and more importantly, who was involved—" his sharp gaze landed on Denwen, "—well, I had to come see you myself."
Denwen swallowed. The old dwarf's words weren't laced with disappointment, nor outright anger, but there was a certain expectation behind them, something heavier than mere scolding.
Dvalin sighed, tapping a finger against his knee. "You know, there are a lot of things the academy turns a blind eye to—especially when it comes to students who are willing to take rational risks for the sake of their cultivation."
There was a pause.
Then Dvalin's gaze cut through the room, pinning Denwen like an insect under glass.
Denwen stiffened. "Wait…" His voice came out uncertain. "You knew?"
He turned to look at Agrona with a questioning look, he saw her push her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a slight nod.
Denwen's heart dropped into his stomach.
The entire time?
Vorden snorted, shaking his head. "Of course, we knew, kid. Do you really think any of you are skilled enough to sneak out of the academy unnoticed?" His voice carried an amused edge, but there was also a hint of condescension, as if he was genuinely disappointed in Denwen's underestimation of the system. "That's just naïve."
Denwen turned to Varek, eyes pleading for some sort of validation, some indication that this wasn't true—but Varek merely shook his head, confirming what he had feared most.
Dvalin let out a low chuckle. "Listen, lad. The academy expects students to push their limits, to seek out opportunities to grow. Hell, half the time, we encourage it in ways you lot don't even realize. But do you honestly believe we'd let students run off into the unknown without keeping tabs on them?" He leaned back, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "Or did you think the principal of one of the top academies on this continent doesn't know how to keep an eye on his own backyard?"
Denwen's jaw clenched. He felt like a fool.
"The truth is, kid," Dvalin continued, stroking his beard, "the academy will even help students in their little… let's call them 'extracurricular' escapades, as long as their reasons are justified and their pursuits aren't outright suicidal."
Denwen blinked. "You help them?"
Dvalin's smirk widened. "Aye."
He wasn't sure if that made things better or worse.
Denwen's mind reeled. All that planning. All that secrecy. He had convinced himself he was operating under the radar, that his grand plan to sneak out, take on missions, and grow stronger in secret had been foolproof. He thought he had outsmarted the system, that only Roy and a few close allies had known.
But the truth?
His entire plan was as transparent as a glass window during daylight.
His stomach sank further when Dvalin's next words hit.
"And did you really think that Roy could cover for you properly?"
Denwen's breath hitched.
Dvalin let out a deep, belly-shaking laugh. "Hah! Lad, your friend can't even come up with a proper excuse for himself. You actually thought he could keep your secret? That boy wouldn't last two minutes under real questioning."
Agrona let out a short, amused exhale, while Vorden openly smirked.
Denwen covered his face with his hands. His so-called genius plan had been nothing more than a poorly staged act, entertaining at best, completely see-through at worst.
His whole rebellious journey for strength?
Nothing more than an open secret the academy had let him have.
"You're telling me," Denwen groaned, his voice muffled by his hands, "that I've been running around in circles thinking I was some underground genius—"
"Oh no, lad," Dvalin interrupted, his laughter shaking the bedframe. "You were running around in circles with a giant neon sign over your head."
Denwen let out a strangled noise of frustration.
Varek sighed, shaking his head. "This is just embarrassing."
Vorden shrugged. "It was entertaining, at least."
Agrona adjusted her glasses again. "It was inevitable."
Denwen slumped, defeated. He had never felt so thoroughly humiliated in his life.
After a few beats of silence, Dvalin's laughter finally died down, and his expression turned slightly more serious. "Jokes aside, lad," he said, leaning forward, "don't take this the wrong way. You had the right idea—pushing yourself, taking risks. But the truth is, we were always watching, just in case you crossed a line you couldn't come back from."
Denwen slowly uncovered his face, still feeling the weight of his bruised pride. "…So, what now?"
"Now, you are in quite the situation, that is why all three of us here had to come tell you ourselves" he responded staring at Denwen as though he could read his soul.