Morning sunlight filtered through the frost-glazed windows of the Northern duchy, painting the manor walls in hues of gold and white. The air, though crisp, carried a sense of anticipation that buzzed through every corridor.
The royal banquet had passed, and the snow-covered roads were now being cleared for a far more personal journey—the departure of the twins and Jorin for the Grand Arcanum Institute.
Inside one of the manor's guest wings, Lira stood in front of a mirror, adjusting the hem of her long traveling cloak. Her winter-blue outerwear shimmered faintly with woven elemental runes, signifying her dual affinity. A small pendant of water and earth hung near her collarbone—gifts from the duchy's spirit mages.
Across the room, Malric checked and rechecked the bindings on his satchel. His gloves were folded neatly beside a training blade, and his polished boots sat squarely at the foot of his bed.
"You nervous?" Lira asked.
Malric hesitated, then shrugged. "A little. I think I'm more excited than anything."
Lira nodded. "Yeah… it still feels surreal. We're really leaving."
A knock at the door interrupted them.
Jorin peeked inside, already dressed in dark blue traveling garb with a small pack slung over one shoulder. "Come on, you two! The carriage is already waiting. Don't make me graduate before you even show up."
Malric rolled his eyes. "You'd trip walking to the gate."
Jorin grinned. "Not with this recommendation letter, I won't." He waved a sealed scroll with the duchy's crest, grinning proudly. "Signed by the Duchess herself."
Lira beamed. "Told you she'd sponsor you."
The three made their way downstairs to the manor courtyard. Servants moved briskly, loading trunks and spell cases into the main carriage. Frost sparkled across the stone path, and snowflakes gently drifted from the sky like soft feathers.
Alaric stood beside the carriage, dressed in a simple gray cloak and maroon scarf. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, but his smile was warm.
"You sure you're not sneaking in with us?" Jorin teased.
"I'll catch up—in two years," Alaric said with a nod.
"You better," Lira added. "And don't fall behind. When we reunite, we want to see Rank 3 at least."
"Or we're leaving you behind," Malric said, smirking.
Alaric gave a small laugh. "Deal."
Duchess Lireya stood by the gate, watching with quiet pride. Lord Marek placed a hand on Alaric's shoulder as the final trunk was fastened.
The twins climbed into the carriage first, followed by Jorin. The other heirs had already departed earlier that week, returning to their respective duchies.
Jorin leaned out the window one last time. "Don't get too comfortable without us."
Alaric raised his hand in a short wave. "You'll be hearing about me soon enough."
The driver called out, the reins cracked, and the carriage began to roll through the duchy gates, wheels glowing faintly from enchantment as they moved forward into the snow-lined road.
Alaric stood still as they faded from view, the sound of wheels slowly swallowed by winter's quiet hush.
He didn't wave again.
He simply watched, holding the image in his mind—their silhouettes in the window, fading into the white.
And then, quietly, he whispered to himself:
"I'll be next."
Later that afternoon, Alaric was summoned to Duchess Lireya's study. The room, warmed by a softly glowing hearth, smelled faintly of parchment and pinewood polish. The Duchess sat behind her oakwood desk, reviewing correspondence, then gestured for him to come in.
"Come, Alaric," she said gently. "Sit."
He obeyed, folding his hands neatly in his lap.
"Now that the others have left, I'd like to ask—what do you plan to do until it's your turn to enter the academy?"
Alaric paused, thinking for a moment.
"I've been considering registering with the Adventurer Guild," he said. "I know I'm still young, but I want to take small requests. Learn. Fight. Get real experience. I want to be strong—not just in training, but in life."
Lireya's expression softened. "You're already Knight Rank 2 at eleven. That's far beyond most your age. But being out there alone… it's not like sparring with friends. You'll be tested in ways you aren't prepared for."
"I understand," Alaric replied. "But I think it's something I need to do."
After a long moment, she nodded. "Very well. I'll notify the Adventurer Guild to provisionally allow your registration. But promise me you'll choose your missions wisely—and never hesitate to come back if it's too much. Growth means nothing if it comes at the cost of your life or soul."
Alaric smiled faintly. "I promise."
She rose and walked around the desk, placing a steady hand on his shoulder.
"You've already lost more than any child should. But you're not alone, Alaric. Not in this house. And not in the path you walk."
Alaric looked up at her and nodded once.
He wouldn't let her down.