Jorghan narrowed his eyes, fists clenched.
Kael’var’s grin turned savage. "Human women spread their legs for anything with a coin purse or a title. Your mother must’ve done the same—and look what crawled out nine months later. A bastard, plain and simple. That’s all you are."
The words echoed like a slap across stone, brutal and deliberate.
"Don’t talk about my mother," Jorghan said, his voice low and dangerous.
The twins exchanged glances, sensing the changes in Jorghan.
"What mother?" Kael’var laughed. "The weak woman who couldn’t even save herself? Or Lady Sigora, who keeps you like a pet out of pity?"
Something snapped inside Jorghan.
The calm from his meditation vanished, replaced by a hot, pulsing rage. He could feel his control slipping, feel the mana surging through his body in chaotic waves rather than the smooth flows he had been cultivating.
"You’ve done it," he growled, stepping toward Kael’var.
To his surprise, Kael’var backed up a step, something like uncertainty flashing in his eyes. Perhaps he had noticed the way the water in the pond had begun to ripple, though no wind blew. Or maybe he saw the faint red glow that Jorghan couldn’t see—the glow that emanated from the mark on his neck whenever his emotions ran high.
"Or what?" Kael’var recovered quickly, his contempt returning. "You’ll cry to Sigora? Run home to your pretend mother?"
Jorghan lunged forward, forgetting all his training in that moment of pure rage.
But Kael’var was faster.
The older boy turned and sprinted toward the edge of the island where several flying beasts were tethered—dragon-like creatures with leathery wings that the Nor’vack used for transportation between islands.
"Catch me if you can, bastard!" Kael’var called over his shoulder.
The twins then followed him.
Jorghan ran after them, his bare feet slapping against the stone path. With his small frame, he couldn’t match their speed.
By the time he reached the tethering posts, Kael’var had already mounted his beast—a sleek, blue-scaled creature that screeched as it spread its massive wings.
"Too slow!" Kael’var taunted, pulling on the reins.
The beast lifted off, powerful wings beating the air as it rose above the island’s edge.
Without thinking, Jorghan approached another tethered beast—a smaller one with rust-coloured scales. The creature hissed at him, not recognizing his scent.
These beasts were trained to respond only to specific riders, and Jorghan had never been allowed to fly one alone.
But in his rage, he didn’t care about rules or training.
The beast reared back as he approached, its yellow eyes fixed on him warily.
Jorghan reached out his hand, palm forward, and did something he had only read about in the books Sigora had given him. He channelled his mana—wild and chaotic as it was at that moment—directly toward the beast, forming a connection between their minds.
The creature went still, its eyes widening as it felt Jorghan’s presence in its consciousness. It wasn’t true taming—that took weeks of careful work—but it was enough to establish temporary control.