Vel woke to the gentle caress of morning light across his face. Surprisingly, the bed's weight distribution felt different than he expected—there was no creaking, no telltale sounds of movement. All he could hear were birds chirping outside, the soft rustle of wind through trees, and... breathing?
He turned his head slowly. Hileya lay beside him, still deep in slumber. They faced each other, closer than he remembered falling asleep. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating details he'd missed in the dimness of last night. The fabric of her sleeping gown was much thinner than he'd realized, clinging to her form in a way that made his mouth go dry.
Heat crawled up Vel's neck and spread across his face. He quickly turned away and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The sudden movement disturbed Hileya, who stirred beside him.
"Good morning," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.
Vel turned back to look at her, conflicting emotions churning in his chest. He had refused her offer last night, maintaining his principles, but now a twinge of regret nagged at him. Had he missed his chance to step into adulthood? If not him, eventually someone else would take her first time—someone who might not treat her with the same respect he had.
He lingered for a moment, considering possibilities, then shut his eyes and shook his head firmly. No, he'd made the right choice. Perhaps not the one that would have satisfied his curiosity or desire, but the right one nonetheless. The potential consequences—both emotional and practical—would have been too high a price.
Hileya sat there on the bed, expectantly waiting to fulfill what she clearly saw as her final obligation of the morning. But Vel wouldn't allow that.
"Thank you for last night," Vel said simply, appreciation genuine in his voice.
They bid farewell to each other with an awkward formality that couldn't quite mask the unspeakable bond that had formed between them. Though they hadn't been intimately connected, they'd shared something perhaps more rare—honest conversation and mutual respect.
Hileya lingered by the door outside the room, looking at Vel one last time before bowing deeply. "May we meet again, young master Vel."
Vel wandered through the corridor, guided only by the morning light that spilled through tall windows and cast long geometric patterns across the polished floor. The manor was different in daylight—less mysterious, perhaps, but somehow even more grand in its silent opulence.
Where was the washroom again? he wondered, peering down identical hallways that branched in multiple directions. Last night's escort hadn't exactly given him a proper tour.
As he turned a corner, voices drifted from a partially open door. Vel slowed his pace, not intending to eavesdrop but finding his steps quieter nonetheless.
"...you didn't do it?" A woman's voice, hushed but insistent.
Another feminine voice replied, softer still. "I couldn't..."
"What was he like?"
"He was a real gentleman..."
The last fragment was barely audible as Vel moved past. He frowned, uncomfortable with the thought they were maybe discussing him. He quickened his pace, wanting to distance himself from the conversation not meant for his ears.
Just as he was about to try another hallway, a servant appeared—a middle-aged man in the mansion's livery who bowed slightly upon seeing Vel.
"Young master, may I be of assistance?" His demeanor was perfectly professional, betraying no hint of knowing anything about Vel's evening arrangements.
"I'm looking for the washroom," Vel said, relieved at the timely interruption.
"Of course. Please follow me."
The servant led him down a nearby corridor to an ornate door. "The bath has been prepared for your morning ablutions. Fresh clothing has been laid out as well. Will there be anything else you require?"
"No, thank you."
Left alone, Vel quickly took care of his morning routine. The warm water and fine soap were luxuries he knew he shouldn't get accustomed to. As he dressed in the fresh clothes—simpler than last night's formal attire but still finer than anything he owned—Vel felt his thoughts clearing.
He had done what was required of him here—visited Lady Halen, secured his future at the Academy. Now it was time to return to his family and prepare for the journey ahead. Whatever games the nobles were playing, he wouldn't be their pawn any longer than necessary.
Vel stood in front of the orphanage door, his hand ready for knocking. He took a deep breath, adjusting the small pouch at his side containing a farewell gift for the children. Before his knuckles could touch the wood, the door swung open to reveal Miss Althea's face, lined with a subtle melancholy.
"Good morning, Miss Althea," Vel greeted with a polite nod. "Where's Celia?"
The caretaker's eyes softened as she glanced back into the building. "She is... saying goodbye to the kids, and it seems they're giving her trouble for leaving." She stepped aside, gesturing inward. "You can come inside."
As soon as Vel stepped into the common room, he could hear children bawling. Some were sniffing quietly while others wailed openly, their small voices pleading with Celia to stay. The scene made Vel's heart tighten in his chest.
Celia stood in the center of the room, her belongings packed neatly in a small leather trunk sitting on the ground next to her feet. Her usual composed demeanor was cracking under the weight of emotion, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tried to comfort the children surrounding her.
A few kids were holding her legs, refusing to let go, their tiny fingers clutching at her dress with surprising strength. One small girl, no older than five, had her face buried against Celia's knee, shoulders shaking with sobs.
"But who will read us stories at night?" A boy with tousled hair hiccupped through his tears.
"And who will braid my hair in the morning?" added a girl with pigtails.
Celia caught Vel's eye across the room, a silent plea for help in her expression that struck him deeper than he expected.
Vel couldn't stand seeing Celia so overwhelmed. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward into the circle of sniffling children.
"Hey now, what's all this?" he called out with a cheerful voice that drew every teary eye in his direction. "Is this how you send off someone who's been taking care of you all this time?"
The children's sobs quieted slightly as they stared at him, some wiping their noses on their sleeves.
"Kids, Celia won't be gone forever," Vel said, kneeling down to their level. "The next time she comes back, there will be gifts for all of you. She'll have amazing stories about the Academy and all the incredible things she's learned."
A small boy with a runny nose looked up skeptically. "Promise?"
Celia nodded quickly, finding her voice. "Of course. I'll write letters too."
"And speaking of gifts," Vel continued, reaching for the pouch at his side. "I have some right here."
The children's eyes widened as Vel opened the drawstring pouch. Inside were small wooden figurines he'd commissioned from a local craftsman – tiny knights, mages, and animals, each one polished smooth and painted with bright colors.
"One for each of you," he said, holding them out. "So you can have adventures while waiting for Celia to tell you about hers."
The tears began to dry as curiosity overtook sadness. Small hands reached out cautiously, selecting figurines with concentrated expressions.
"I want the beast!"
"Can I have the knight?"
Celia shot Vel a grateful look as the children's attention diverted from their impending loss to the treasures in their hands. Her shoulders relaxed visibly, the tension draining from her face.
"Thank you," she mouthed silently across the heads of the distracted children.
Vel just nodded, watching as the atmosphere in the room transformed from heartbreak to excitement. It wasn't a perfect solution – the children would still miss Celia terribly – but at least now her departure wouldn't be remembered only with tears.
He caught Celia's eye and raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Are you ready?" Vel asked, his voice gentle.
Celia nodded, but instead of moving toward the door, she walked to a corner of the room. From behind a small chest, she pulled out a wooden practice sword—the same one she'd been training with for years. Its edges were smooth from countless hours of use, the grip worn to the perfect shape of her hand.
The children fell silent, watching with wide eyes as she returned to the center of the room.
Holding the sword horizontally across her palms, Celia knelt before the eldest child, a girl of about eight. Her voice took on a formal, ceremonial tone that surprised Vel.
"I entrust this precious gift to thy care," she announced, her serious tone transforming the worn wooden training blade into something sacred. "Please watch over it for me, wilt thou?"
The children gathered around, their small fingers reaching out to touch the sword with reverence. The eldest girl accepted it carefully, holding it as if it were made of glass rather than sturdy oak.
"We'll practice every day," the girl promised, her voice thick with emotion. "So when you come back, we'll be as good as you."
Celia smiled, blinking rapidly to hold back tears. She rose to her feet and gave one last look around the room, committing every detail to memory. Then she turned to Vel and nodded, signaling she was ready for departure.
Together they walked to the door where Miss Althea stood waiting, her normally stern expression softened by evident emotion. She placed a hand on Celia's shoulder, squeezing gently.
"I wish you the best of luck, Celia," she said, her voice wavering slightly.
Vel and Celia stepped out of the orphanage into the morning light, the familiar sounds of Elnor greeting them. Today, these everyday noises—merchants setting up stalls, guards changing shifts, neighbors chatting—seemed different somehow. More vibrant. Full of promise.
Instead of turning toward Vel's house, they headed in the direction of Lady Halen's manor. They'd been instructed to gather there for their departure; Von and Mari had already gone ahead to make preparations.
Vel glanced at Celia struggling slightly with her trunk of belongings. It wasn't particularly large, but he could see her shifting its weight awkwardly.
"I can take that if you don't mind," Vel said, pointing toward Celia's trunk.
Celia hesitated, her grip tightening momentarily before she relented with a small nod. "Thanks. Just be careful with it."
"Of course," Vel replied, lifting the trunk. It was heavier than it looked—probably containing everything she owned in the world.
They walked at a measured pace, neither rushing nor dawdling. Just quick enough to reach their destination on time, but slow enough to take in the sights of Elnor one last time. The familiar buildings, the market square where they'd practiced sparring, the church where Landre had been consecrated—all of it would soon be behind them.
When they arrived at the estate's gate, Vel noticed a stagecoach waiting, its polished wood gleaming in the sunlight. Mari and Von stood beside it, along with Lady Halen herself, dressed in her usual finery.
But what caught Vel's attention were two unexpected figures.
Mora was there, dressed for travel in practical leathers with a pack at her feet. Was she assigned to escort them? Vel's eyes were drawn to the card hanging at her belt—no longer the silver rectangle of an adventurer, but now shimmering with a golden gleam. She'd been promoted.
Even more surprising was the presence of Hileya, the half-elven maid from Lady Halen's manor. She stood slightly apart from the others, her silver hair neatly braided, hands clasped in front of her as she waited patiently.
Vel's steps faltered slightly at the sight. What was she doing here? Had Lady Halen sent her to see them off, or was there more to her presence?
Vel approached the gathering with Celia at his side, still carrying her trunk. Mora noticed them first, her eyes lighting with recognition.
"Long time no see," Mora said, offering a casual salute with two fingers. Her new golden adventurer's card caught the sunlight as she moved.
Celia gave a smile in return. Mora maybe wasn't a close friend with Clara, but she was the only person that Clara could talk to, besides Celia. The connection, however tenuous, meant something to her.
"Good morning Vel, Celia," Lady Halen said, her voice carrying the crisp authority that seemed as much a part of her as her silver hair.
Von and Mari greeted them as well, Mari immediately stepping forward with a leather pack that Vel recognized as his own. "Here are your things, dear," she said, handing it to him. They had insisted on holding it for him, even as Mari took good care of what he should bring. He didn't expect less from his caring mother.
Von stood with his arms crossed, looking over the coach with a critical eye. "Make sure you check the wheels when you stop to rest," he said gruffly. "Rough roads between here and Lona. Last thing you need is a broken axle in danger territory."
And then there she was, Hileya, standing silently to the side. Her silver hair caught the morning light, and she kept her eyes modestly downcast, though Vel caught her stealing a quick glance at him before looking away.
"I believe you still remember Hileya," Lady Halen said, gesturing toward the half-elven maid.
Vel nodded, suddenly aware of Celia's eyes on him.
"I've decided to offer Hileya's services as your personal maid during your time at the Academy," Lady Halen continued smoothly. "You'll need proper guidance in higher society, and Hileya is exceptionally well-trained. She understands the etiquette and customs you'll encounter among nobility at the Academy." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with this task."
Vel noticed a shift in Celia's demeanor beside him. Her shoulders tensed, and the smile that had been on her face moments before faded into something more reserved. Was it disappointment? Jealousy? He couldn't be sure, but the change was unmistakable.
What surprised him more was his parents' reaction—or rather, their lack of one. Von and Mari didn't seem surprised at all. They exchanged a brief glance but showed no sign of protest or confusion. Had they discussed this matter while he wasn't present?
Vel felt the weight of everyone's gaze on him as Lady Halen's words hung in the air. The implication behind her comment made his face grow warm.
"I believe the two already have a deep connection," Lady Halen added with a knowing smile that made Vel's stomach twist.
The scene suddenly became awkward for Vel. He noticed Von clearing his throat and looking away, while Mari seemed fascinated by a nearby tree. Mora's eyebrows shot up with interest, and Celia's expression hardened, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"My personal—" Vel didn't finish the sentence.
What should he do? Should he refuse? Accept? What would all this entail? Vel found his gaze shifting between Celia and Hileya.
Celia's expression showed clear disapproval, her eyes narrowed slightly, jaw set. Meanwhile, Hileya remained as still as water, her face carefully neutral though her hands were clasped so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
He needed to decide quickly. The silence was stretching too long, becoming more uncomfortable with each passing second.
Vel took a closer look at Hileya again, and their eyes met. Behind her composed exterior, he caught a glimpse of something—uncertainty, perhaps fear? Whatever Lady Halen called it, this wasn't just about his comfort at the Academy. This was about Hileya's life too.
"I want to give this choice to Hileya," Vel said firmly. "She should have a say in this."
Hileya took a long pause, her eyes shifting between Vel, Celia and Halen herself. The tension in the air thickened with each passing second. Vel held his breath, watching the subtle emotions play across her face—uncertainty, resolve, and something else he couldn't quite name.
Then she spoke, soft, elegant but with confidence.
"I want to be of service to young master Vel."
"Master Vel?" Celia couldn't help but splurt out quietly, the words escaping before she could stop them.
This was the first time Vel had seen Celia react like this. Her usual composed demeanor cracked, revealing a flash of something that looked almost like hurt beneath her surprise. Her eyebrows drew together slightly, and her lips parted as if she wanted to say more but thought better of it.
Lady Halen's smile widened, satisfaction evident in her expression. With a quick signal from her hand, another servant approached, carrying a small satchel that Vel presumed contained Hileya's belongings.
"All other essentials have been prepared in your lodging in Lona," Halen added, her voice smooth as silk. She gestured toward the coach. "I believe everything is now in order for your departure."
Von and Mari stepped close to Vel, their hands resting on his shoulders. The moment felt both heavy and light—the weight of farewell balanced against the promise of new beginnings.
"This is it then," Mari said, her voice steady despite the sudden wetness in her eyes. A touch of redness spread across her cheeks as she pulled out a handkerchief to dab at the corners of her eyes. "You'll write to us, won't you?"
Vel couldn't hold back anymore. All his carefully constructed composure crumbled as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his mother, burying his face against her shoulder like he used to do when he was younger.
"I will, Mom," he promised, his voice muffled against her dress. The familiar scent of herbs and home clung to her, and Vel tried to memorize it. "And maybe, once I learn more about magic, we could have something even better than letters."
Mari's hand came up to stroke his hair, a gesture so familiar it made his throat tighten with emotion. When they finally separated, both their eyes were damp.
Von cleared his throat and stepped closer, reaching into his pocket to pull something out. The morning light caught on polished metal as he extended his hand.
"I believe this is yours," Von said gruffly. "I've repaired it."
It was Vel's dagger—the one that had been chipped when Landre used it to carve her amulet. Now it gleamed, sharp and polished, nestled in a new leather holster. The wooden handle had been polished to a warm glow, and the blade looked better than when it was new.
Before Vel could react, Von took the dagger. "Here, let me show you how to wear it."
With swift, practiced movements, Von tied the holster to Vel's belt, adjusting it with firm tugs. His movements were snappy and precise, perhaps trying to hide the emotion Vel could see in the tightness around his eyes.
Von finished adjusting the dagger's holster and stepped back, eyes lingering on Vel's face as if committing it to memory. His stern expression softened for a moment before hardening again.
"Don't you dare get back here failing," Von said gruffly, his tone loaded with emotion he couldn't express any other way.
Vel swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded firmly. "I won't."
He turned to his parents, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "Thanks Mom and Dad, for what you've done for me."
"We're family, Vel," Mari said softly. "You don't have to say it."
With a final nod to his parents, Vel grabbed his pack and Celia's belongings, heading toward the stagecoach. Hileya followed, her small satchel in hand, stepping lightly behind him.
Vel stepped in first, then turned to see Celia and Hileya reach the door together, creating an awkward pause. Hileya bowed slightly, gesturing for Celia to go ahead, but Celia climbed in without acknowledging the gesture.
The interior of the coach was well-appointed but not spacious. Three people could sit comfortably on each bench, but with just the three of them, the seating arrangement felt suddenly significant. Vel sat down on one side, expecting the girls to take seats opposite him.
Instead, Celia quickly claimed the spot directly next to him, settling in with determined efficiency. A moment later, Hileya entered and, after a brief hesitation, took the remaining seat on Vel's other side.
End me, a thought crept into his mind as he felt the unbearable tension. Trapped between them, Celia sat rigidly, staring ahead, while Hileya modestly gazed down, hands folded in her lap.
Outside, Von and Mari waved goodbye as Mora approached the coach, nodded confidently, and closed the door with a firm click. She jumped into the front seat beside the driver, and the coach lurched into motion.
Vel watched his parents through the window, their figures shrinking as they distanced. Mari kept waving until they turned a corner and vanished from view.
A moment later, Vel nestled Celia's trunk and his own pack into the compartment beneath their seats. As he straightened, he was met with the sight of both girls sitting perfectly still on either side of the empty space he'd vacated. The tension between them was almost visible—Celia's rigid posture and Hileya's careful blankness creating an atmosphere that made the coach feel suffocatingly small.
"Wouldn't it be more comfortable if we each sit on separate seats?" Vel suggested, gesturing toward the empty bench across from them. "There's plenty of room that way."
Celia turned her head toward the window, suddenly finding the passing buildings of Elnor utterly fascinating. She showed no indication she'd heard his words at all, though the slight tightening of her jaw suggested otherwise.
Hileya, meanwhile, offered a small shake of her head. "I must remain near Master Vel should any needs arise during our journey," she said softly, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Vel suppressed a sigh. This wouldn't do at all.
Taking matters into his own hands, he stood carefully—no small feat in the moving carriage—and stepped across to sit on the opposite bench. He settled himself in the middle, hoping this would resolve the awkward seating arrangement.
It didn't.
Hileya immediately rose and followed, taking the seat to his right with practiced grace. Not to be outdone, Celia slid across the carriage floor and claimed the spot to his left, her movements quick and determined.
Once again, Vel found himself stuck between the two girls, the situation unchanged except for which bench they occupied.
Vel placed his palm against his face, rubbing his forehead slowly. Is this how things are going to be all the way to Lona? he wondered with mounting dread. The journey would take days. Days of this silent tension, this unspoken rivalry that he somehow needed to navigate.
This was an unexpected problem that demanded a solution, and quickly. The carriage had barely left Elnor, and already the atmosphere inside was unbearable.
Vel cleared his throat awkwardly, deciding the only way through this was to face it directly.
"I believe you two haven't properly introduced," he said, forcing brightness into his voice. The strained silence cracked, but didn't break entirely.
He turned to the silver-haired girl. "Hileya, this is Celia. My training partner, also a childhood friend. She will be attending the academy with me."
Hileya gave Celia a polite nod of acknowledgment, her expression perfectly composed, though Vel noticed her eyes were carefully assessing.
He shifted his attention to Celia, whose gaze remained cool and unwavering. "Celia, this is Hileya. She was a maid in training under Lady Halen. She's also... a half-elf."
The moment the words left his mouth, Celia's expression darkened. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and Vel felt a chill run down his spine.
"Deep connection, huh?" Celia's voice was razor-sharp. "How 'deep' was it? Was that what you did the night at the manor? Did you know about this arrangement? Did you purposely tell me to leave?"
The questions came rapid-fire, each one hitting Vel like an arrow. He raised his hands defensively.
"No! It wasn't like that at all! We just talked and—"
"Just talked?" Celia cut in, her eyebrows arching skeptically.
"Yes! I mean, she was there when I—"
"She was there? In your room?"
"Lady Halen sent her, but nothing happened! I swear we just—"
"Lady Halen sent her to your room?" Celia's voice climbed higher. "And you didn't think to mention this?"
Vel glanced desperately at Hileya, hoping for some assistance, but found her watching the exchange with a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her lips. She made no move to intervene or elaborate, seemingly content to let him flounder through this interrogation alone.
"It wasn't like that! She was assigned to—" Vel tried again.
"Assigned? So she was ordered to be with you?" Celia pressed, her words coming faster now.
"Well, yes, but—"
"And you spent the night together?"
"We shared a room, but—"
Celia's eyes widened, and Vel realized too late how his words sounded.
Vel scrambled for words, aware that every explanation sounded like another confession. His heart pounded as he tried to salvage this rapidly deteriorating situation.
"Miss Celia, maybe you thought too much," Hileya finally intervened, her voice calm and measured. "I assure you nothing happened between us that night—we just talked and fell asleep."
Vel nodded emphatically, grateful for the support.
"Young master Vel was very... gentle," Hileya added with a slight bow of her head.
Vel's momentary relief evaporated instantly. He shot Hileya a panicked look, unable to believe she'd chosen those particular words. Her expression remained perfectly innocent, but something about the deliberate pause before "gentle" made him wonder if she was enjoying this chaos.
Far from helping, Hileya's explanation seemed to make things worse. Celia's face flushed crimson, her hands clenching into fists in her lap.
Vel wasn't sure if Hileya's intervention helped or just made the misunderstanding more complicated. The air in the carriage grew thick with tension.
After what felt like an eternity, Celia paused. Her rigid posture gradually softened, and her expression shifted from anger to something closer to indifference.
"Whatever. Why should I care?" she said abruptly, folding her arms and looking away with a pronounced "Hmph." The sound perfectly conveyed her irritation despite her words suggesting otherwise.
Desperate to clear his name, Vel raised his right hand solemnly.
"I swear in the name of Shizka, I didn't do anything improper," he declared. Invoking the Goddess of Light was no small matter—it was the most serious oath one could make.
Celia turned slowly to look at both Vel and Hileya, her eyes moving between them searchingly. Whatever she saw in their faces seemed to satisfy her. She let out a long exhale, her shoulders dropping slightly.
"Good," she said firmly. "You better not take advantage of girls who had no choices."
Celia's expression softened as she turned toward Hileya, extending her hand in a more friendly gesture.
"Nice to make your acquaintance, Hileya," she said, her tone markedly warmer than before. Then her eyes narrowed slightly, though not unkindly. "If Vel ever asks you to do anything... inappropriate, you come straight to me, okay?"
Hileya gave an adorable smile and nodded, her silver hair catching the light streaming through the carriage window. "Of course, Miss Celia. I would be most grateful for your guidance."
Thanks gods, Vel exhaled and thought internally, relief washing over him like a cool breeze after a summer storm. The conversation had veered dangerously close to disaster, but somehow they'd managed to navigate through it. He leaned back against the cushioned seat, trying not to draw attention to himself lest he accidentally reignite the tension.
Let's hope they won't team up later to bully him.
As the carriage rocked gently along the road, Vel noticed the tension dissipating like morning mist. In its place grew something unexpected – Celia's natural curiosity seemed to take over, her initial hostility forgotten as she leaned forward, eyes bright with interest.
"So you're half-elven? Which parent?" Celia asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And how long have you worked for Lady Halen?"
"My mother," Hileya replied, seeming pleased by the genuine interest. "I've been in Lady Halen's service since I was eight"
"Is it true elves can see twice as far as humans? And what about magic – can you use it?"
"Well, my vision is better at twilight than most humans," Hileya explained with a small smile. "As for magic..."
Vel watched in amazement as Celia's endless questions about Hileya's heritage poured forth. The half-elf answered patiently, occasionally glancing at Vel to include him in the conversation.
The stagecoach carried on its journey toward Everfront, a transit town they needed to go through before reaching Lona. Outside, the landscape gradually shifted from Elnor's familiar surroundings to rolling hills dotted with scattered farmsteads. The wheels creaked rhythmically beneath them, and the tension that had filled the carriage just minutes ago felt like a distant memory.