The days after Kael's birthday passed in steady rhythm, not slow, not hurried—just constant, like the beat of footsteps on a well-worn path. There was a peace to it, even if the ache of the unknown still lingered quietly behind the eyes.
Kael continued to take missions, sticking to nearby towns—no more than a few days out at a time—rarely alone but never in the same group more than three missions in a row. Rys stayed rooted in their hometown of Glintville, taking jobs that brought him back by sundown and acting, more often than not, as a point of calm in Kael's whirlwind schedule.
Each morning they started with breakfast—sometimes light conversation, sometimes quiet smiles. Sometimes nothing at all needed to be said.
Mirek visited once during those first two months, checking in to see how Kael's healing magic had improved. They hadn't added new spells, but the precision and efficiency Kael showed had grown noticeably sharper. Mirek had no doubt they'd made the right choice passing the knowledge on.
But even without Mirek's comment, Kael knew. They could feel it.
It wasn't a leap forward. It wasn't a spark of transformation. It was something deeper, like soil richening beneath the surface before the roots knew it was happening.
The world had changed slightly for Kael in those months. Not in how it looked, but how it felt. Less like something to prove themselves against… more like something to understand. Rys noticed the difference too. He didn't say it aloud, but in the quiet glances he offered when Kael spoke to villagers or merchants, there was a warmth—pride, maybe, or admiration—that hadn't been there before.
Kael never asked about it. They weren't sure they wanted to know what Rys was thinking. Or maybe they did… but not yet.
One chilly morning, Kael stood outside the guild annex office, reading over the mission board with fingers half-numb from frost. They weren't planning on taking anything today, but sometimes the right mission chose you.
A voice cut through the quiet. "Looking for something big?"
Kael turned to see Rys approaching, his hands stuffed into the pockets of a thick brown coat.
Kael shook their head. "Just looking."
Rys stood beside them, gazing at the board without reading it. "You've been quieter lately."
"Just thinking."
Rys chuckled softly. "You? Thinking? Must be serious."
Kael didn't smile at the joke. They reached up and tapped a posting, not one they'd take, but one that reminded them how far they'd come: a mission calling for a Trunk-rank adventurer. They remembered what that used to mean. What it used to feel like to not even qualify.
Now, they were past that. And they could feel themselves nearing another change—something bigger. The next layer.
They looked at Rys. "Do you think I'm ready for the Academy?"
Rys blinked. "Ready? You've been ready for over a year now. You just haven't been old enough."
Kael exhaled slowly, watching their breath mist in the air. "I turn twenty in four months."
Rys nodded. "Yeah. I've been keeping track."
They didn't say anything after that. But when Kael turned to head home, Rys followed. No need to say they'd walk together. That was a given now.
---
Two months passed in quiet evolution.
Kael's work as an adventurer continued as expected—always varied, always shifting. Missions came and went, and they never stayed in the same group longer than three jobs. Some adventurers took this as a quirk, others as a rule, but those who worked with Kael often enough knew to respect it. A rhythm, unspoken but clear.
Their name—always genderless, always a little elusive—continued to grow in the region. Not famous, but definitely known. Guild receptionists in nearby towns greeted Kael with polite professionalism laced with respect. Bartenders remembered their drink. Locals asked if they'd be passing through again.
But this wasn't fame Kael chased. It wasn't recognition. What they sought was strength—refinement. Stability of self.
Rys, on the other hand, stayed closer to home.
Still Branch-ranked and in no hurry to push higher, Rys preferred the work that kept him rooted in Alderrest. Escorting merchants, solving disputes, helping track down lost goods or missing pets. He liked it that way—direct, useful, honest. He said so more than once. Kael never questioned it.
But even if Rys wasn't climbing the adventuring ladder, he was sharpening his own skills quietly. The two trained together often, and though Kael was undeniably ahead in rank and skill, Rys was steady, sharp, and resourceful in ways that couldn't be ignored. They balanced each other well—sparring in silence, offering critiques, improving without ego.
It was late in the third week of the second month when Kael came home one evening from a mission farther than usual—gone almost five days. When they returned, tired but uninjured, Rys was waiting at their door with a stew that had clearly been kept warm for hours longer than it should've.
"You didn't have to—" Kael began.
Rys shrugged. "Figured you'd be hungry."
They ate on the porch, letting the wind do most of the talking. Eventually, Kael leaned back against the post, bowl half-finished.
"I've been thinking again," they said softly.
Rys waited.
Kael looked up at the sky. "I'm getting close. Another rank soon, I think."
Rys nodded. "I can feel it."
"And I'll be twenty by the time the next tournament starts."
"Yeah."
Silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable.
Then Kael turned. "You still planning on coming with me? To the Academy?"
Rys didn't even hesitate. "I already decided that a long time ago. You didn't think I was just going to wave goodbye at the city gates, did you?"
Kael chuckled, not loudly. "No… I guess I didn't."
They didn't say anything more. Rys reached for Kael's hand, brushing fingers against theirs, and Kael let them. It wasn't a declaration. It didn't need to be. They just stayed like that for a while—hands barely linked, sharing warmth under the pale sky.
---
It happened during a mission that should've been simple.
Kael and a temporary party—none of whom they'd worked with before—were tasked with escorting a merchant caravan through a narrow mountain pass that had become increasingly unsafe. Bandits, possibly a rogue beast. The details were murky, but the pay was good.
Halfway through the second day, the caravan was ambushed.
It wasn't bandits. It was a trio of mana-mutated wolves, massive and fast, clearly territorial, and clearly far more intelligent than typical beasts. One of them hurled itself into the lead cart, snapping the axle in a splintering crash, while the others flanked hard, aiming for the horses first.
Kael reacted instantly.
The rest of the party scattered—some tried to defend, others panicked. One fell. Another ran. Kael moved with precision: no panic, no hesitation.
They barked orders—clear, firm, and impossible to ignore. Their voice cut through the chaos like a blade, directing one mage to shield the merchants, another to boost the backline. They took point, facing down the most aggressive wolf themselves.
Steel clanged. Magic flared. Kael's arms trembled under the weight of countering that thing's force—it wasn't just a beast. It was cursed, ancient maybe. Its eyes glowed with madness and memory. But Kael didn't yield.
With a shouted spell, one they'd crafted months ago, they ignited the space between them and the wolf with a concussive burst, shoving it back. Another line—perfectly phrased—pinned the creature with spectral chains. It snarled, magic resisting, but it couldn't break free in time.
Kael struck, not to kill—but to break its resistance.
The creature slumped. Alive, barely. The others were handled similarly. Not killed—subdued. Protected, even, in a strange way.
It wasn't until after the mission was done and the caravan made it to the next town that someone from the Guild approached them at the inn.
"You've been evaluated," the man said, handing over a scroll with a broken wax seal. "Head office has authorized your rank increase."
Kael opened it.
Their name.
And one word beneath it:
Ironbark → Oak
They exhaled.
It wasn't a surprise. They had felt it in the battle—the precision, the control, the way the spells flowed. The way leadership came to them naturally, not by instinct, but through earned trust. They were no longer surviving these missions—they were mastering them.
The title Oak felt… right.
Back in Alderrest, Rys met them on the edge of town. He hadn't heard the news—Kael hadn't sent word ahead. But when he saw them walking down the path, his expression shifted. He stopped mid-step.
"You've changed again," Rys said softly.
Kael smiled.
"Yeah."
---
The last of the morning dew clung to the grass outside the small but sturdy home Kael and Rys had known for years. A soft breeze rustled through the trees of Glintvale, and inside, the air was thick with anticipation. Bags were packed. Gear double-checked. Kael paced near the table while Rys leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and brows tight.
Kael's father stood across from them, his eyes flickering between pride and unease.
"So… this is it, huh?" he finally said, breaking the silence. "Two months on the road. After everything... it's hard to believe the time has finally come."
Kael nodded. "It feels strange. We've waited years just to be old enough. Now that it's here…" They glanced toward the door, heart pounding. "It doesn't feel real."
"I still think the academy's expectations are insane," Rys muttered. "But I get it. This is where we're meant to be."
Kael's father gave a slow nod and looked to Rys. "You've applied too?"
"I did," Rys said. "I know I might not make it, but if Kael's going to that city, then I'll do everything I can to stay close."
A half-smile tugged at the father's lips. "You two really are something else."
There was a pause.
Then, quietly, he said, "Your mother would be proud, Kael."
Kael swallowed hard, a knot forming in their chest. "I hope so."
"I know so." He stepped forward and placed a hand on their shoulder. "Whatever happens in that city… remember what got you here. Your roots are strong. You carry that with you."
Kael nodded, holding back the rising emotion. They exchanged hugs, brief but heartfelt. Then Rys gave a two-fingered salute and said, "We'll write when we can."
"See that you do," the older man said, forcing a smile.
With that, the journey began.
---
The road was long and winding. Though they'd taken missions together in the past, this was the first time they traveled with no deadline other than their own arrival. Kael and Rys took it slow, sometimes stopping in villages or wildlands to train, rest, or pick up small guild requests for coin and provisions.
They camped under starlit skies, bathed in cold rivers, and cooked whatever they could catch. Some nights were filled with laughter, others with quiet contemplation. Their bond deepened—not just romantically, but in the unspoken trust that came from shared struggle.
In one lakeside village, Kael practiced their healing spell on injured travelers from a caravan accident. It drew attention—not just for how effective it was, but how little mana it required.
One older man, clearly a well-traveled mage, had tilted his head after watching Kael work and asked, "That language you used… you actually understand it, don't you?"
Kael only offered a tight smile and continued casting.
---
At a crossroads two weeks from their destination, they met a group of younger adventurers, all headed the same way.
"You academy-bound too?" one of them asked.
Kael nodded. "We'll be entering the preliminaries."
"You look strong," the girl said, sizing Kael up. "Think you'll make it?"
"We'll do our best," Kael replied evenly.
Rys kept quiet, eyeing the group carefully.
After a few days of shared travel, the two parties split. The conversation lingered, though. So did the question. Were they ready?
---
The final stretch was mountainous. The air thinned and the clouds seemed closer. On the last day, as the sun dipped low, casting orange light across the stone road, the Academy City came into view—nestled like a crown at the junction of three countries, its massive walls gleaming in the dying light.
Kael and Rys stopped on the hill overlooking the main gate.
"There it is," Kael said quietly.
"Feels… big," Rys added.
Kael took a breath. "Everything changes now."
Rys reached out and took their hand.
"We'll face it together."
Hand in hand, they descended the hill toward the gates.