The dining hall was smaller than Ravenn expected. A long wooden table stretched across the center, worn but sturdy, and the flickering lanterns cast warm light across the space. Plates were already being set, filled with steaming stew and fresh bread.
But Ravenn barely noticed the food.
The room was filled with voices—laughing, talking, arguing. Less than a dozen figures, each distinct, yet all carrying something beneath their skin, something familiar.
They were like him. He could feel it.
Orin led him forward, his presence immediately quieting the room. Eyes turned toward them, some curious, some skeptical.
"This," Orin said, placing a firm hand on Ravenn's shoulder, "is our newest Warden."
A beat of silence. Then—
"He's small," a voice commented.
Ravenn turned to see a boy with white-blond hair and sharp blue eyes leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. He couldn't be much older Ravenn, maybe eight or nine, but the way he looked at Ravenn carried an air of authority, as if he were sizing him up.
Orin gave a small chuckle. "Ravenn, meet Karlen Frostbane, Vessel of Ice."
Ravenn raised an eyebrow. Frostbane was an awfully convenient name for the Ice Vessel.
As if sensing the question before it could be uttered, Orin leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Some here come from long lines of Vessels, power passed through the ages. Young Frostbane's family is one of the most ancient Vessel families. Don't let his personality fool you; however, the boy is warm to those he knows."
Nodding, Ravenn held eye contact with Karlen before extending a hand to him.
Seeing the hand, Karlen looked at him weirdly for a moment, maybe having expected some sort of hot-headed or snappy comment. For a moment, he didn't move, but then he smirked and shook Ravenn's hand.
"Not like the redhead at all. I like that," he chuckled. He seemed to possess a maturity beyond his age.
As if triggered by the comment, a young boy, perhaps in his early teens, with amber hair and sharp golden eyes, furrowed his brow and picked up a wooden cup from the table. Without much warning, he tossed it in Karlen's direction.
The ice Vessel barely flinched as he leaned to the side, letting the cup sail past him. It clattered against the stone floor, rolling to a stop near Orin's feet.
"That's twice today, Teryn," Karlen drawled, smirking. "At least make it harder to—" he paused, raising his hand and creating a small wall of ice between him and the cup behind him as it burst into a small fiery explosion.
Teryn, Vessel of Fire Ravenn guessed, exhaled sharply, clearly annoyed. "Maybe if you didn't run your mouth so much, I wouldn't have to throw things at you." His golden eyes flickered in the dim light of the hall. "And quit acting like you're better than everyone. You're barely taller than my knee."
A tick appeared on Karlens forehead, and he sighed clearly annoyed by the comment on his height.
He shrugged, trying to appear unbothered. "Younger, smaller, and yet I still manage to irritate you. Impressive, no?"
Ravenn observed the exchange, noting the way the two fell into their bickering with ease. It wasn't full of malice; it was more like an ongoing rivalry. Karlen had a smugness about him, but Teryn wasn't quick to back down.
Orin sighed, rubbing his temples. "Enough," he said, voice calm but firm. "If you two are going to act like children, at least do it outside where I don't have to listen to it over dinner."
Karlen huffed but smirked while Teryn muttered something under his breath and crossed his arms.
Orin turned back to the others. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes." He gestured toward the rest of the table. "Ravenn, meet your fellow Wardens."
His gaze moved across the room as he introduced each of them.
Lyara Vale, Vessel of Motion—a lithe, dark-skinned 16-year-old girl with restless energy practically vibrating off her. She gave Ravenn a beaming smile, drumming her fingers on the table as if she couldn't sit still.
"It's been years since we've had a newcomer. Welcome home, Ravenn," she said, an aura of friendliness apparent even through her restlessness.
Ronan Stryx, Vessel of Sound—was 15, a copper-haired boy with a mischievous grin, matching the rhythm of Lyara as he tapped a spoon against the table. "Nice to meet you, new kid. Hope you don't snore; I like my sleep," he said before focusing his full attention back on the beat he was making.
Selise Ardren, Vessel of Earth—17, strong and steady, with an air of quiet confidence. Her skin was a pale white, with dark and braided hair. She met Ravenn's gaze with a small nod.
Nirea Gale, Vessel of Wind—visibly graceful, with silver-blond hair shifting slightly as if moved by an unseen breeze. "Welcome," she said softly, her voice carrying effortlessly across the table.
Eldric Moren, Vessel of Water—12 years old, short and stocky, arms crossed as he studied Ravenn. "Hope you can keep up," he remarked. "Training's not easy, and we won't slow down for you."
Vivienne Eryndel, Vessel of Kin—18, the oldest among us, tall, elegant, with auburn hair woven into intricate braids. She offered Ravenn a warm smile, the kind that immediately put people at ease.
"What Eldric means is that we'll slow down and help you catch up as fast as possible," she said, glaring at Eldric, who shrunk down in his seat a bit, which made Ravenn smile a bit.
Leaning into Orin's ear, he whispered a question. "I kinda get the others, but what's the deal with Kin?"
Chuckling, Orin patted him on the head. "There were once Keepers of every aspect of existence. The Keeper of Kin watched over familial and friendly relations."
"You are 7 years old, I believe, soon to be 8? The youngest, aside from young Karlen, he is 9 years old as of a few months ago. He has been here since birth, he has never known the outside world. Befriend him, you may have more in common than you believe."
Orin then stood with his back straight and tapped his staff on the ground. Instantly, every Vessel's attention snapped to him.
"I need not remind you, but I will, regardless. Ravenn is family now. A Vessel like the rest of you. And just like the rest of you, he has lost something to be here. Just as was done with each of you, he will train and one day stand beside you all on missions of extreme importance."
They all nodded, seemingly already having accepted Ravenn into their home.
"We are the balance. We are the barrier between this world and the next. Though we number few, hardly a few hundred of us alive and scattered, we will not abandon our duty."
Ravenn's face hardened. He was young, yes, talentless in Vis in his past family's eyes, but he was still a noble in blood. He was educated regardless of his poor magic aptitude, so he knew very well the seriousness of what was just said.
Less than a thousand of us Vessels against a countless, possibly infinite number of spirits and other threats.
And yet...
Looking around, no one in this room seemed afraid. No one seemed to fear the insurmountable odds.
Their eyes were all hardened, prepared for the task.
Orin turned to Ravenn, his eyes a shining violet.
"Ravenn Vaedricourt you were born. And yet, you standing here means that you have died once already and have been born again. With the Wardens, you have no obligation to your old family, other than the duty in which you must swear upon, to help all humans. The burden of a Warden, a Vessel, a dwindling group."
"So tell me, what is your choice? Will you stand with us against those that threaten this world? Will you fight until your last breath and then until the last spark of your soul is gone? Will you fight with honor and uphold the Warden way? The way of those who many lifetimes before us died fighting?"
Ravenn pondered for a moment, but he knew there was only one way forward for him.
Looking around the room, he didn't just see comrades. These weren't just people with a common goal and a common enemy. This was a family.
For the first time today, his mind wandered back to his mother. Regardless of how "mature" or adult he seemed, he could not deny the pain in his heart when thinking about her.
There was no bringing her back, and to be honest, he didn't want to. She had lived a sad life, being sold off by her parents to the Vaedricourt head. He had used her, curious to see if his "noble and blessed blood" was pure enough to override a peasants and make a talented child.
When that had failed, he tossed the both of them aside, leaving them for dead. His mother had died of grief and he of the cold in that endless winter. His mother's soul was gone from this world, and he would never bring her back to experience the same grief again.
'Rest in peace, mother,' he thought as a tear streamed down his face. He took in those around him, and not a single one laughed. No one ridiculed him for showing weakness, for shedding tears. It was foreign to him.
Looking Orin in the eyes, Ravenn kneeled, unwavering.
"I swear it. Teach me the ways of a Warden so that I may protect this world."
Orin smiled lightly, lifting his staff and tapping it gently against Ravenn's head. The moment it made contact, his eyes shone with a radiance so intense it filled the entire room, swallowing every shadow.
As the light faded, something within Ravenn shifted. Power—untamed, boundless—coursed through his veins, and an unfamiliar awareness settled over him, as though he could feel the very pulse of the world.
"Ravenn Vaedricourt is dead, forever lost to the snowy plains," Orin declared, the glow in his eyes dimming. "Who stands here now is a Warden—in name, in body, and in essence too. A sworn protector of both the mortal and spirit realms."
Ravenn slowly pushed himself to his feet, unsteady, yet more whole than he had ever felt. His gaze flickered to a nearby mirror, and he hardly recognized himself.
His once-dark hair had faded into a striking shade of lavender. His dull, lusterless eyes now gleamed—a silver so sharp it cut through steel.
Vivienne stepped forward, the first to break the silence. "So tell us... who are you?"
Ravenn inhaled, running the thread of his life through his mind one last time. He met her gaze, but it was as if he were looking past her, into something far older.
"Once, my mother told me I was named after a hero of the old days. An ancestor to my family. My many-times great-grandmother, Raven. Had she been given the choice, she would have passed down her full name to me... a symbol of respect."
His voice was steady yet distant, as if speaking to someone beyond those in the room.
"I am Ravenn J. Khet. Son of Isadora. Descendant of Raven J. Khet, Warden of the new age. I am the Vessel of Echoes, the unchangeable past, present, and future of this world and every world. Of every living and nonliving being."
With every word, a radiant energy spilled from him—silver and lavender pooling around his form.
Then—she appeared.
Above Ravenn, a woman's figure began to take shape, her presence weaving itself into existence. Her hair flowed in strands of silver, her eyes a glistening lavender. Ethereal and unearthly, she was draped in robes that shimmered like the fabric of space itself. A soft, knowing smile graced her lips as she reached out, her hand ghosting over the crown of Ravenn's head in a touch that sent warmth through his very soul.
The other Vessels stared, wide-eyed. This was beyond the norm—even for them.
Ravenn's voice deepened, layered with something else, something not entirely his own.
"I have died twice. Once as a Keeper. Once as a failure."
His energy flared.
"This life... I will live for the helpless, for the forgotten. Not as a Keeper. Not as a failure. But as a Vessel."
Then, his silver eyes sharpened, shifting into something unfathomable. His voice, recognizable to a degree, changed again.
"The balance has shifted."
Orin's expression, once filled with pride, faltered. His eyes widened—not in awe, but in shock.
Ravenn's eyes—both distant and brimming with an eerie vitality—locked onto the old man. "Beings that should have never existed in this world have been born. Their spirits are rejected, yet they persist. Spirits of old stir, and enemies long thought vanquished prepare to rise once more."
"Prepare the Wardens well, young Orin. The fate of the world hangs by a string, and this new generation of Vessels and non-vessels alike must become stronger if we want any chance in this war."
With that last message, the woman's figure slowly faded, and seconds later, she was gone.
Ravenn's vision blurred, silver and lavender light still flickering around him as if reluctant to fade. A deep ache settled into his bones, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His limbs trembled, his body no longer able to hold itself upright.
His knees buckled.
The last thing he saw was Orin's expression—no longer just shocked, but deeply troubled. The room tilted, and voices called his name, but the sound felt distant, as if he were slipping beneath the surface of a deep, endless sea.
Then, darkness.
No one moved, and no one made a sound.
Orin exhaled, his gaze hardening as he processed the words.
"Rest well, Echo Vessel. Your training will begin sooner than planned," he thought as he left the hall.