[*]
Two days stretched endlessly in Elnor. The initial chaos had settled into routine, though some survivors stayed bedridden while others found work.
Von stepped up as leader—apparently what Halen had whispered to him. She'd already foreseen what the group needed. His newfound authority organizing patrols stirred mixed feelings in me.
Landre split her time between helping refugees and church visits, returning with a brighter smile each time. Perhaps she was on her path to Sainthood—she deserved it.
Mari recovered fully, now working the fields with village women, strangely separate from Landre and Von.
And me—Vel, Giri, whoever am I supposed to be—just a purposeless kid. After years of constant work, this idleness was torture.
I tried playing with Celia and Kein, who were kind enough to include me—especially Celia—but it didn't click. Kein's energy grated on my nerves, and Celia's cheerful chatter reminded me of things I couldn't relate to anymore.
I need to do something. The thought came one morning as I watched Von disappear into town for his duties yet again.
I stood and brushed off my trousers.
The streets hummed with merchants and travelers. Vibrant and alive—more than I could ever have imagined while designing Aeonalus.
The guild? They wouldn't let some kid waltz inside. The market could wait. My feet carried me toward the square where kids usually played—a patch of dirt surrounded by trees and wooden crates.
But today, there was no laughter.
Kein stood at the center with two other boys beside him. Another kid sat sprawled in the dirt, trying to push himself up with trembling arm.
"You think you can talk about Celia like that?" Kein's voice carried across the square. "Say it again if you're so brave."
The boy on the ground said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line.
So this wasn't just aimless bullying—it was retaliation for something involving Celia? That didn't make it any better in my book.
Kein stood over the boy, fists clenched. His friends flanked him, waiting. The kid on the ground had scraped knuckles and blood at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes held defiance.
"Go on!" Kein barked, stepping closer. "Say it again!"
My stomach churned. This wasn't just kids being kids. Something about Kein's voice—low and simmering—made it clear this wasn't playful roughhousing gone too far.
Should I step in? Intervening might backfire spectacularly. Kein already seemed wary of me lately; stepping in now could push him into outright hostility. Would he see me as a threat? An enemy?
I hesitated, weighing outcomes.
"I didn't mean anything by it," the boy finally croaked out, his voice hoarse but steady enough to carry across the square.
Kein didn't move for a beat, his shoulders stiffening.
"Didn't mean anything?" he repeated slowly, almost incredulously. "You don't get to talk about Celia that way and then just brush it off like it's nothing."
Another step forward from Kein—the boy flinched involuntarily—and my legs moved before I fully decided what to do.
"Kein," I called out firmly but not too loud, hoping my tone would ground him before things escalated further.
His head snapped toward me, eyes narrowing. His friends shifted but said nothing.
I stopped a few paces away and crossed my arms.
"What's going on?"
Kein's gaze stayed locked on me, his eyes sharp, defiant. His fists still clenched tight at his sides.
"He was saying stuff about Celia," he spat, jerking his chin toward the boy on the ground. "About her parents."
The boy on the ground flinched.
"What kind of stuff?" I asked.
"He said they're gone. Dead." Kein's voice dropped. "Like it was funny or something. And then… then he said Clara's probably dead too."
The name hit like a punch to the chest—Clara.
"It's just rumors!" The boy finally blurted out, scrambling to sit upright. Dust clung to his tunic. "I didn't mean anything by it! That's just what people are saying!"
Kein took another step forward. I moved between them, holding up a hand.
"Wait, Kein. Don't you think we should find out why he said something like that?"
I crouched down to the boy's level. "Where did you hear this?"
The boy's eyes darted between me and Kein. "I… I heard it from the Guild. They were talking about it yesterday. Said it's been two days since she went missing."
Behind me, Kein went rigid.
"Go on," I prompted.
He swallowed hard. "They said… they said there's no point in searching anymore. That later today, they'll call off the search and come back to Elnor."
"That's just what I heard! I didn't mean anything by it! Honest!"
The silence stretched. I could feel Kein's anger radiating behind me.
I stood and turned to face him. "Kein, I get why you're upset. But he's just repeating what he heard. He's a kid, like us."
Kein's eyes narrowed. "You think that makes it okay?"
"No. But beating him will not help Clara or Celia."
"You don't get it!" Kein's voice shook. "He said it like it was nothing—like Clara was just another adventurer."
"I understand. But you can't expect everyone to know what she means to you."
For a moment, Kein just stared at me.
"So you're defending him now?" His voice dropped, colder. "Since when do you care so much about other people?"
I opened my mouth but he kept going.
"You weren't even friends with Celia before." He took a step closer. "You never met Clara every day. Now you're acting like you know everything?"
Another step.
"You're just like him."
Before I could answer, he shoved me. I stumbled back, catching myself.
My heart raced as adrenaline surged through me. This wasn't how I'd wanted things to go—not even close—but Kein wasn't giving me much choice now.
"Kein!" My voice came out sharper than intended.
But Kein didn't stop. He stepped forward again, raising one fist.
And then—
"Kein! Stop!"
Celia's voice rang out across the square.
Every head turned toward her as she ran toward us.
Her expression was one of panic mixed with determination.
Kein's fist hovered mid-air, trembling slightly as if caught between action and retreat. His mouth opened, then closed again, words failing him.
"Celia… I—"
Her eyes were locked on him. She wasn't smiling. Her determination now mixed with hurt.
"Kein, what are you doing?"
Kein lowered his fist slowly, his arm dropping to his side like it suddenly weighed a ton. His gaze darted to the boy behind me, then back to Celia. He took a step back but didn't speak right away.
"He… he was saying things," Kein stammered finally, his voice losing its earlier fire. "About you… about Clara-neesan."
Celia flinched at the mention of Clara's name but didn't look away from him.
"That doesn't mean you get to hurt people," she said quietly but with enough steel in her tone to make Kein wince. "Is this what Clara-neesan would want? For you to fight like this?"
Kein opened his mouth again, struggling for an answer. His shoulders hunched as though he were shrinking under her gaze.
"But… this is what Clara-neesan taught us!" he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly as he looked between me and Celia. "She said we have to be strong—to fight for the people we care about! Isn't that what I'm doing?"
The words hung heavy in the air for a moment.
"It doesn't mean you get to bully others." Celia's voice softened slightly. "Vel is our friend."
"I'm not bullying anyone!" Kein protested. "I just want them to understand—"
"Kein," Celia continued, her tone gentle but firm. "If you keep doing this… I'll have to tell your mother."
That hit differently. Kein flinched at the mention of his mother, his jaw tightening as his gaze fell to the dirt at his feet. The fire that fueled him moments ago was snuffed out instantly.
I stepped back slightly, giving Celia space to handle things.
Kein's fists loosened. He muttered something without looking up.
Celia stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm. "I know you're just worried about me. But this isn't the way."
Kein pulled away and shot me one last glare before turning on his heel. His friends followed as they disappeared down the path, kicking up dust.
Celia let out a breath, her shoulders dropping.
"Vel-kun, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft but steady.
I blinked at her for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah... I'm fine." My hand brushed at the front of my tunic, more out of habit than anything else. "That was... impressive."
Her brows lifted slightly in surprise.
"The way you handled that," I continued, giving her a small smile. "You didn't just stop him—you made him actually think about what he was doing. That's not easy to do."
Celia's expression softened, and a faint blush colored her cheeks as she glanced down at the ground.
"I just... didn't want anyone getting hurt," she murmured.
Before I could say anything else, my attention shifted to the boy still sitting on the ground nearby. His hands trembled slightly as he tried to brush off the dirt clinging to his tunic, his gaze fixed firmly on his knees.
I stepped closer and crouched down in front of him. Reaching out a hand, I offered him some support.
"Here," I said simply.
He hesitated for a moment before taking my hand, allowing me to help him to his feet.
"You should be careful about what you say from now on," I told him. "Even if it's the truth… sometimes words can hurt more than you think. And not everyone will take it well."
The boy nodded quickly, his head bobbing like it was on a string. His face was pale beneath the streaks of dirt smudged across it.
"I… I didn't mean…" he started to stammer but trailed off when he saw me watching him closely.
He fidgeted, stealing quick glances at me, torn between gratitude and flight.
"Th-Thanks," he mumbled finally, voice quiet but genuine. He paused, then added quickly, "My name's Theo."
I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Theo." My tone was light but carried enough weight to let him know I wasn't just brushing him off. "Take care of yourself—and watch what you say next time, alright?"
Theo nodded quickly, glancing between me and Celia before giving an awkward bow and shuffling away. He walked fast but controlled, as if trying to escape without seeming to run.
Celia watched him go silently for a moment before turning back to me.
That left just the two of us standing there in the square. My mind wandered back to what Theo had said—to the Guild rumors about Clara and the search parties giving up.
Should I tell her?
Celia glanced at me, her head tilted slightly in curiosity. Her eyes, though calm, held a flicker of concern that made my chest tighten.
"Celia," I started, my voice quieter than I intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. "About what Theo said earlier..."
Her expression shifted—just a fraction—but it was enough to tell me she already had some idea of what I was about to bring up. Her hands clasped in front of her, fingers fidgeting slightly with the hem of her sleeve.
"It's just a rumor," she said softly before I could continue. There was something brittle in her voice, like she was trying to convince herself as much as me.
I shook my head lightly. "Maybe, but... he said something about the Guild calling off the search."
Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out at first. The faintest tremor ran through her shoulders before she straightened them, forcing herself to meet my gaze. "They wouldn't do that," she said firmly, though there was an edge of desperation behind her words. "Not yet. Clara-neesan... she's strong."
I nodded slowly. "I believe that too."
Her brows furrowed deeply as her hands tightened into small fists at her sides. For a moment, she looked every bit like someone fighting against a storm within herself—a storm made of fear and hope clashing violently.
"I don't want to give up," Celia murmured finally, almost too quiet for me to hear.
"We won't," I assured her quickly, leaning forward slightly to catch her gaze more directly. "No one here is giving up on Clara-neesan—not you, not me."
She blinked rapidly a few times before nodding once, the motion sharp and determined despite the tears welling in her eyes.
There wasn't much else I could say—not without overstepping or making promises I couldn't keep—but for now, this felt like enough.
I stayed where I was, standing just close enough to offer support but not so close that it might seem suffocating. Celia wiped at her eyes quickly, her movements sharp as though trying to erase any evidence of vulnerability.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked again, keeping my voice soft.
She nodded quickly, but her gaze avoided mine. "I'm fine," she said softly, though her tone suggested otherwise. Her fingers fidgeted with her sleeve, twisting the fabric in an endless loop.
I searched for comforting words, but nothing came. It was odd—in my past life, I'd had no trouble finding the right things to say to clients and coworkers. Corporate language had been effortless. Here, those polished phrases felt empty.
Now I was just awkward, like a stiff adult failing to connect with a child.
The silence stretched between us uncomfortably long.
Maybe a change of subject would help?
"Celia," I started, letting my uncertainty show. "What about your parents? Are they… here in Elnor?"
Her fingers stilled immediately. For a moment, she didn't respond—just stood there as though frozen by the question itself. When she finally looked up at me, there was something guarded in her expression.
"My parents…" she began slowly before pausing again. Her voice dropped lower when she continued, almost too quiet to hear. "They're gone."
The weight behind those two words hit harder than I'd expected. Gone could mean a lot of things here—and none of them good.
Her hands fell to her sides now, no longer twisting nervously at her sleeves but instead clenching into small fists once more.
"They… they died," she said finally, each word trembling slightly as it left her lips.
"It was a while ago," Celia said softly, her voice carrying an ache that felt too heavy for someone so young. "Before I could even remember. I was just a baby when it happened."
Her gaze drifted to the side, somewhere distant, as though she were watching the scene play out in her mind. Her hands tightened into fists again, knuckles whitening against the strain.
"There was a raid," she continued, her tone steady but fragile. "Bandits came to our village... Clara-neechan doesn't talk about it much. She says it's not something I need to remember or think about."
I didn't interrupt; I let her words flow at their own pace, each one pulling me deeper into her world.
"But I know it's why she became an adventurer," Celia added after a moment, her voice hardening slightly with conviction. "She said their deaths—our parents'—were what gave her the strength to keep going… to become stronger. To protect what mattered most."
Her lips pressed together into a thin line as she looked down at the dirt beneath her feet.
"She tells me I'm what gives her strength now," Celia murmured, almost as if confessing something private and sacred. "But… it feels the same to me. I want to be strong too—because of Clara-neechan."
The way she said it—it wasn't just admiration; it was resolve. Her small frame carried an unshakable determination that made my chest tighten.
"That's why… whenever Clara-neechan has time…" She hesitated briefly before continuing, her voice gaining a flicker of warmth amidst the sadness. "She teaches me swordplay."
I blinked at her in mild surprise but didn't speak.
"Kein learns too," Celia added quickly, as though wanting to fill any silence that might settle between us. "He's better than me—he's faster and stronger—but Clara-neechan says I have good instincts."
Her fingers unclenched slightly as she glanced back up at me with a faint but earnest smile.
"Someday, I want to be like Clara-neechan," she declared firmly. The vulnerability in her eyes had faded now, replaced by something far more resolute—a spark that refused to be dimmed.
I nodded slowly, absorbing every word. The thought of wielding a blade lingered in my thoughts, a dormant flame yearning for ignition. This wasn't merely about mastering another ability—it was about necessity.
"Celia-chan," I started carefully, leaning slightly forward to catch her attention. "That sounds… really useful, especially now. Maybe you could show me a few things sometime?"
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she took a small step back as though the suggestion itself caught her off guard.
"I… I don't know if I can," she admitted quietly. "I only know what Clara-neechan taught me. I'm not confident enough to teach anyone else."
Her words carried a note of insecurity that didn't quite match the determination she'd shown moments earlier.
"That's okay," I said quickly, not wanting her to feel pressured. "Maybe we could figure it out together? Or…"
An idea clicked into place.
"I could ask my father," I continued, watching her closely for any reaction. "Von's a guard here in Elnor—and back in Oakhaven too. He's got decent sword skills."
Celia's expression shifted slightly as she considered the proposal.
"Your father…" she murmured, almost to herself. Then she nodded slowly. "That might work."
She didn't seem entirely convinced, but there was no outright refusal.
"We can ask him together," I suggested lightly, offering her a small smile.
This time, Celia nodded again with a bit more confidence.
"That settles it," I said, straightening up. "Let's go find my dad. He should be at his post."
Celia blinked at me, her expression shifting between uncertainty and a hint of determination. She adjusted her sleeve before nodding.
We walked through Elnor's bustling streets, the air rich with spices and the chatter of merchants. Celia stayed close, her steps light yet purposeful, her shoulders tense.
"Dad usually patrols near the eastern gate," I said casually. "He likes to keep an eye on who comes and goes."
Celia tilted her head in acknowledgment but didn't reply.
As we turned onto a quieter street, I spotted Von standing tall with a cluster of guards. His hand rested on his sword hilt as he spoke with a subordinate.
"There he is," I said quietly.
Von's gaze shifted to me as we neared, his sternness giving way to surprise and relief.
"Vel!" His voice was warm and booming. He quickly closed the distance. "What are you doing here? And… who's this?"
I hesitated for a moment, glancing at Celia.
"This is Celia," I said. "She's… well, we met here in Elnor."
Von raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking upward into a sly grin.
"Only two days away from Oakhaven," he began teasingly, folding his arms across his chest, "and you're already introducing a girl to your old man? You work fast, Vel."
My face heated instantly. Beside me, Celia let out a soft gasp of embarrassment.
"It's not like that!" I blurted out quickly. "We're just—she's just—"
"N-No! It's not… We're not…!" Celia stammered.
Von chuckled heartily.
"Relax," he said lightly. "I'm just joking. But seeing you both so red—it's hard not to have a little fun."
I sighed heavily, willing the redness away from my cheeks.
"Actually," I started carefully, looking up at Von directly. "We came because… well…"
"Do you think you could teach us about sword fighting? In your free time?"
Von blinked at me once in mild surprise before his expression softened.
"Swordplay?" he repeated slowly before nodding thoughtfully. "That's not something I expected you'd ask about… but it makes sense now with everything going on."
"Alright," he said firmly. "If you're serious about learning—and willing to put in the effort—I'll teach you both whenever I can find time."
A flicker of excitement lit up Celia's face while relief washed over me.
"But don't expect it to be easy—it'll take discipline and practice if either of you want to get anywhere near competent."
Celia's voice, soft but steady, broke through the lingering tension.
"I used to learn swordplay with Clara-neechan," she said, her gaze dropping slightly.
The words hit me. I'd forgotten to mention something crucial.
"Ah… I guess I should've told you earlier—Celia-chan is… well, Clara-neesan's sister."
Von's face shifted immediately. He turned his full attention to Celia, studying her more closely now.
"I want to become strong," she said firmly, though there was a tremble in her voice. "Clara-neechan would want me to continue learning… so I want to keep practicing until… until she comes back."
Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, her eyes shimmering with an unspoken resolve. Von exhaled deeply before nodding once—a slow and deliberate motion.
Von's gaze softened as he looked at Celia.
"It's good to have something to fight for," he said, his voice low but firm. "To protect someone or something—it makes us stronger."
His words lingered in the air, carrying a weight that felt personal.
"Whatever you feel right now," he continued, meeting Celia's determined gaze first and then shifting to mine. "Don't disregard it. Hold onto it."
He straightened up, his usual commanding presence returning.
"Alright," Von said briskly. "I'll see you both later. We'll start when the time is right."
Von headed back to the guards at the gate. His words lingered as Celia and I stood quietly, sharing a look.
"You'll find me at the orphanage," she said quietly. "I spend most of my time there when… when I'm not with Clara-neechan."
"The search party might come back today," I began carefully. "Or maybe tomorrow."
She nodded faintly.
"Maybe we can go to the Guild together then," I continued. "To ask about Clara-neesan's news. If you don't mind."
Her head tilted slightly in surprise before she gave a small nod.
"I'd like that," she murmured after a moment.
I hesitated briefly before adding, "I'm alive thanks to Clara-neesan, after all."
The faintest smile touched her lips.
"Thank you," Celia said simply.
"I should get back to the refugee camp,"
Celia stepped back lightly.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then?"
I nodded. "Tomorrow."
The camp stood frozen, tents sprawled across the clearing. Villagers moved like weighted shadows while faint voices mixed with tool sounds and rustling trees.
I searched through the crowd until I found Landre at the edge, her back turned, focused on someone in white and gold robes.
Not a priest - too young. His slim frame held a mature calm as he gestured with an open book. Landre absorbed every word like scripture.
I hung back, watching her determination. This was part of her dream to become a Saint. The young acolyte might help her path.
I felt both pride and guilt observing them. Her purpose drove everything while I just struggled to survive.
Though that wasn't quite true anymore.
I quietly returned to our camp section, progress comes gradually. For now, I'd focus on learning to read and write.
I spent the day practicing letters, memorizing words, and working through sentences. Night brought exhaustion but also satisfaction.
Perhaps there was hope after all.
End of Chapter 6