The Brook estate stood before him—vast, imposing, carved from dark stone that seemed to drink in the dim morning light. It hadn't changed.
And yet…It had.
"…Home," he murmured.
Clara stepped out beside him, her gaze already drifting past the structure, as if measuring it. Arion glanced at her for a second and exhaled, stepping forward he ascended the stairs leading to the entrance.
Each step was wide, cut cleanly from polished white stone, it had become more smoother with time and use.
He climbed slowly, Clara beside him ascended with the same pace and calmness as Arion. For some reason, he felt a great sense of nostalgia and for obvious reasons, he could not chuckle or smile at the feeling.
'...Six years.'
They reached the top, and as they stood before the doors, it opened. They were not pulled nor were they pushed, they just opened on their own.
g'Guess they recruited some guy with telekinesis.'
As they passed through the open doors and went inside, he watched from the corner of his eye, he saw Clara's body growing tense for a moment, just a moment and multiple complex emotions he could not recognise flickered in her eyes.
She seemed to frantically scan as far as she could see, and then slightly relaxed. During this entire one second, her indifferent expression had almost cracked many times but none appeared outside.
'Yeah they definitely have classes on that.'
Clara becoming tense was believable, in fact he would be more worried if she didn't show any tense emotions but what confused him was the fact that she relaxed just a second later, and he soon realised why.
The moment the doors opened, the silence shattered.
A line—no, rows of figures stood waiting inside the grand hall.
Servants in pristine uniforms, maids with lowered gazes, guards in polished armour standing like statues carved from iron. They filled the vast entrance in perfect symmetry, stretching from one end of the hall to the other.
And as Arion stepped in, they moved in unison. A sharp, practiced motion as every single one of them bowed.
"Welcome back, Young Master."
Arion stopped just for a fraction of a second then he continued walking. This time, with a gentle and bright smile on his face.
"…Well," he muttered under his breath, "that's not unsettling at all."
As for why Clara was not tensed anymore, Arion's eyes narrowed.
Arion's gaze swept across the bowed figures. None of them looked up. They didn't even dare meet his eyes. Finally he stopped in front of them.
"…Raise your heads," he said casually, and in the next second like a switch had been flipped, all of them stopped bowing and looked up, in unison.
'Seriously...even that was practiced?'. Suddenly an image of everyone practicing to say Welcome back Young Master appeared on his mind. Suppressing a laughter, he looked at the crowd once more.
His smile only grew wider. There were people he recognised, and people he didn't, and yet there was one thing common in all of them.
When he had left for Ashford six years ago, all looked at him with love and affection but now that warmth of love and affection had disappeared...replaced by a dreadful thing. Order.
Hiding his discomfort and disappointment, he let his smile remain and asked with the most cheerful voice. "…Where is everyone?
A man stepped forward from the front line. He was old, older than most, he was composed and carried a denser aura than the rest.
Arion quickly recognised the man. 'Commander Joel.'
"The staff has gathered to receive you, Young Master," he said smoothly. Arion looked at him for a while.
Composing himself, he stayed silent for a while and shrugged.
"I can see that, I was asking about my family."
"They are...currently unavailable." The man said without hesitation. Arion let out a soft breath through his nose and closed his eyes.
'Of course, of course they were.'
"Busy?" He asked, still in the cheerful-excited tone though now it was becoming more and more harder to keep that mask while he thought of his family.
"Always." The man answered. It almost made him laugh. Almost. If only he would have been alone, he probably would have but sadly he wasn't.
A brief silence followed. Arion was thinking of his family and also keeping an eye on Clara while the crowd awaited his next order.
Then he stepped forward again, passing through the parted rows as they shifted just enough to make way—perfectly timed, perfectly executed.
Like a mechanism. The very thought of it made his blood boil. They were like robots, of course no one except him knew the meaning of robots but sadly he couldn't find a better word for what he was seeing.
Yet, his mask of cheerfulness did not break, it only cracked and in those cracks he carefully put his disappointed gaze and a sad and guilty expression making an impression that he didn't want them to act so stiff.
Clara walked beside him, her gaze now calmer, colder. This was something she understood.
"Dismiss. Do your work, and if you have none, you can relax." He said loudly.
As they moved deeper into the estate, Arion spoke again, almost lazily.
"They didn't even bother to come greet me after six years, huh?"
No one answered, no one dared to answer but again no one had to. The answer was already there.
In the distance. In the towering silence beyond the hall. In the absence that mattered. Arion's lips curved faintly, not into a smile but something thinner and sharper.
"…Good," he murmured.
And this time there was no nostalgia in his voice.
* * * * * * * * *
It was around at night when he saw Joel again.
It was late, quiet and suffocating, it was how everyone acted around nobles and he was too getting the same treatment.
Commander Joel stood ahead, clad in full armour this time, steel catching what little light there was. A sword rested at his waist, his face hidden behind the helmet.
But Arion didn't need to see it. He remembered it well enough. Those short golden hair, blue eyes, and a gaze that used to be… warmer. Now though, even though his face was covered Arion could feel it, his gaze...was not at all warm.
That memory lingered longer than it should have.
'Soul Rune,' he reminded himself. Of course things had changed. The driver had said it too, they were expecting betrayal now that he had unlocked his Soul Rune.
Arion walked towards him, and Joel tensed just slightly, no one noticed...except him, Joel was a warrior, and rarely showed emotions, but Arion knew the knight better than most or maybe everyone. It wasn't difficult to read him.
"Young Master," Joel said, bowing his head.
Arion stopped in front of him and didn't respond immediately. He just stood there, looking at him, at the armour, at the posture, at the distance that hadn't been there before.
"…You don't have to do that." Arion said.
Joel didn't move.
"You of all people shouldn't."
Still nothing. A uncomfortable pause stretched between them.
"You practically raised me." Arion said, his voice was hesitant and a bit hopeful...Finally though the knight stopped bowing and straightened himself.
"What brings you here, Young Master?" Joel said, his voice even, controlled. "Dinner will be served in an hour. Lord Darius and the others will return by then."
"I-I see..." Arion said gritting his teeth then sighed. "Where did they go anyway?"
"They went out." The knight answered, his voice was a little stern, and a little too practiced, not composed but ready, as if he had been waiting for this question.
"…I see."
His gaze drifted for a second before returning to Joel. He studied him again, more carefully this time, as if trying to find something familiar beneath the steel and formality.
He couldn't. Everything about him was measured now.
"…I'll see you later then." He turned, and stopped just as he was about to walk away.
He opened his mouth as if to say something and then stopped. For a moment, just a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not even disappointment. It was something smaller, but something far more worse.
"…You used to call me Arion."
The words slipped out quieter than he intended.
Joel didn't react. Didn't correct him. He didn't acknowledge it. He just stood there, his face covered, his posture stiff and guarded. He didn't move.
Arion let out a soft breath through his nose, something almost like a laugh—but without warmth.
"Right," he murmured. Then paused and looked ahead. "We weren't like this six years ago."
The knight of brook didn't waver, didn't show any hesitation, he just stood there unmoving.
He shook his head, and took a step, and another, and another and then stopped, a dangerous smile on his face.
His gaze was fixed front, and then...his smile grew but it didn't reach his eyes, what was there in his eyes were murder and coldness.
With the same coldness and hostility in his voice, he said loudly and confidently staring directly ahead of him.
"You don't need to hide..."
Clara who was hiding behind a pillar stiffened and walked out, her face perfectly composed and devoid of any emotion.
"I just wanted to ask a few questions..." She said, and even her voice was devoid of any emotion.
Arion turned in her direction with a surprised expression and then chuckled. "I wasn't talking to you." He said calmly, and then turned front again. "I was talking about the other guy who is hiding in that spear."
Joel, Clara and the rest of the staff immediately stiffened, as they watched Arion's finger pointing at a normal spear across the room leaning on a normal wall.
"What are you talking about, Young Master?" Joel asked cautiously, his own sword raised in a battle stance ready to both attack and protect.
"Ah! You guys are seriously so off, no way you guys seriously let an intruder in." At that very moment, a blinding white light emitted from the spear, and the next moment everything went back normal except the spear was not there anymore.
Instead of it, there was a man no one in the room had seen entering.
But unfortunately no one had a proper chance to see him, as the man lunged across the hall towards Arion, a golden spear in his hand aimed directly to Arion's heart. Before anyone could process the attack, the man was already in front of Arion. All of this took no more than a second.
Clara was too stunned, her gaze too focused on the place where the man was just a second ago, Joel was a bit faster, he was already by Arion's side, his sword aimed at deflecting the spear but again it would reach the spear after it pierced Arion's heart.
The rest of the staff were in a similar position, too slow to process everything and standing still, too far to help.
Just when all hope seemed lost, Arion leaned back, his left arm as raised and his right arm was in his side, and he turned the wrist of his left arm downward and right when the spear tore his crimson shirt, and was less than an inch away from his flesh, a sword deflected it.
The sword was not Joel's, it was not of any staff members too, it was Arion's. It was Voidflare.
The next second, the man jumped back. Joel stood in front of Arion, who held the Voidflare blade in his left hand, Clara finally snapped out of her shock and turned towards the enemy with cold calculation.
The rest of the staff members came back to their senses too, alarms were raised, those who could fight turned in the direction of the uninvited guest and readied themselves and those who couldn't fight ran away.
Arion slowly walked beside Joel, a calm and cold expression on his face.
He looked down at his beautiful blade and his eyes momentarily softened. 'Nice to see you again, Void...'
After fifteen long years, he was finally reunited with his blessed sword.
His gaze became cold once more as he looked at the man who almost killed him just seconds ago.