Lemeric toppled over and stayed on the floor—half teasing Evie, half hurting from the truth he dared not name. His days at Caerwyn Manor were numbered. He would soon leave the comforts of Caerwyn Manor and he rather liked staying here despite it almost crumbling facade there was a certain warmth here.
That warmth wasn't in the manor's stones but in the girl leaning over him now. Her hair fell like a dark curtain, her button nose wrinkled in worry.
"Quick—how many fingers am I holding up?" she asked, earnest as ever.
He caught her hand, answering softly, "Two." Her fingers were softer than he expected. He shouldn't have lingered—yet he did.
"Is something the matter?" Evie tilted her head, catching the faint shadow in his eyes as he sat up.
That questions shocked Lemeric he was very good at masking his thoughts but this girl seemed like she could read his emotions like his face changed color "I'm fine" he said himself back to the chair.
Evie crossed her arms, unconvinced. "Tell me. Or else I'll force it out of you."
He smirked, though it was mostly to cover the thrum in his chest. "Like you could."
Evie then saw blinked from her vision:
[ System Notification ]
🌟 Quest: Comfort the World's Hero
Condition: Make the Hero Happy Again
Reward: Unlock Stats Assessment Skill
Evie's eyes lit with mischief. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants—you've been warned."
He raised a brow, but his calm cracked the moment she pounced. Her fingers darted mercilessly against his ribs, his sides, even his neck. His composure shattered—he was laughing, breathless, his body twisted beneath her weight. His hands itched to grab her wrists and hold her still, but the thought of pinning her down startled him more than the tickling.
"Alright! Alright—I'll tell you!" He gasped, red-faced from laughter and something else he couldn't name. "But you have to promise not to laugh."
"I promise," Evie said solemnly.
"Pinky promise?" His voice caught on the words, softer than he intended.
Evie blinked surprised at this childish side of him then hooked her pinky finger with his. "Pinky promise."
The touch was small, fleeting. Yet it left his chest tight.
"I was just thinking... you all look like a family. And I don't belong here. Even though... I kind of like it."
Evie snorted before she could stop herself. "Pfft—"
"Hey! You promised not to laugh!" He lunged, pinching her cheeks in retaliation, trying to mask the sting in his chest with play.
"I'm not laughing at you, I swear!" she said between giggles. "It's just—you really are a little kid sometimes."
"You're one to talk. I'm older than you," he retorted, though the words felt hollow. What he didn't say was how grown she seemed compared to him—how easily she disarmed him without even trying.
"My family was never like yours," he confessed quietly. "That's why... I actually like it here."
Evie's smile softened. "Then stay."
"I can't. I'm a Montclair, not a Caerwyn." His voice dropped. "I don't have a place here."
"Well I can't give you my last name since that's my fathers. How about I give you a new name instead!" she said with conviction. Snatching paper, she scribbled on it. "See, you said our names all start with E? Well, Lemeric—you're 'Em' now." She underlined the letters with a flourish.
"Em," he echoed, almost reverently. He shouldn't have let the name cling to him the way it did, but it lingered, intimate as a secret.
"You like it," she teased, brushing the feathered quilt on his flushed cheeks and .
"No, it's too informal," he muttered, avoiding her gaze. His heart betrayed him by racing anyway.
"Admit it—you like it, right - Em?" she said emphasis on the new nickname.
He pinched her cheeks again, partly to hide the way her voice saying Em made his chest tighten. "You're insufferable."
The system chimed:
[ System Notification ]
🌟 Quest Complete: Comfort the World's Hero
Reward: Stats Assessment Skill Unlocked
And so what Evie started as a way to comfort Em, became an endearing tone the manor relished.
"Hey Em come join me for a walk look at this new parisol papa bought me." Without waiting, she looped her arm through his, pulling him along.
At the forest when they were running around with Sol "Em quick we have to catch Sol it's time for your bath sol!" Evie shouted, her laughter ringing through the trees as Sol bounded ahead, tail wagging.
"Em," Evie whispered much too loudly, leaning over his shoulder as he read. She slid a sugared bun right onto his open page. "You'll ruin your eyes if you keep scowling at books without snacks." Her hair brushed his cheek as she leaned closer, and Lemeric's fingers froze on the parchment—pretending to glare, while secretly holding his breath.
The time when it rained softly outside, Evie poured tea into mismatched porcelain cups. "Sit with me, Em," she said brightly, sliding his cup across the table. "This is hot chocolate it taste the best during rainy days."
"Em." Her voice lingered in his mind, soft as a bell.
"Em." It repeated again, brighter this time, tugging at his chest.
"Em." Once more, playful as laughter.
And again—gentle, unshakable, wrapping around him until it became a rhythm he could not silence.
"Em… Em… Em…"
Then his sword went flying into the air, the clang ringing as it hit the ground. Lemeric blinked, catching his breath—right, he was in the middle of a spar with the older twin, Eleur. He retrieved his weapon quickly, stance steady. They were waiting for their Master Tutor Aaron, and of course Eleur, hot-headed and competitive as always, had challenged him to a match.
Lemeric obliged—thinking he could use the exercise too. But the way Eleur was throwing his sword at him wasn't his usual fighting style it was as if he was fueled by something sinister.
"Did you see that! Father's sword really is amazing!" Eleur said feeling a bit smug.
"You're going to get in big trouble when Master Aaron returns and you two are sparring. Worse when Father finds out you took the sword out from the his secret room." Elsan crossed his arms disapproving.
"Em, be careful!" Evie's voice piped up from the sidelines. She was bundled in layers of frills, ribbons and lace, little boots tapping against the grass as she leaned forward eagerly.
Sol, meanwhile, was stretched lazily at her feet, tail flicking every so often, clearly uninterested in all this sword-swinging nonsense. The hound yawned, rolled onto his back, and promptly began snoring.
"Oi! Why's she calling you Em?" Eleur snapped mid-parry, eyes narrowing.
Lemeric just shrugged, keeping his expression calm though his grip tightened on the hilt. He wasn't about to explain the deep meaning behind the nickname. "Beats me."
"Hey, Evie!" Eleur called across the yard, narrowly dodging Lemeric's riposte. "Why do you call him Em?"
"It's a cute nickname!" Evie declared proudly.
"What's a nickname?" Elsan asked curious.
Evie thought for a moment, where had she learned that term, it certainly not from this world. She could not remember but still tried to explain, "It's… something you call someone when you're really close to them."
Both twins froze mid-step, heads snapping toward Lemeric like hawks. "Close?" they repeated in unison, glaring at him.
Lemeric shifted his stance, pretending not to notice their stares. He didn't feel like arguing.
"Then give me one too," Elsan demanded suddenly. "Call me Big Brother El!"
"Then I want one as well!" Eleur shouted, raising his sword in protest.
"She can't call both of us El," Elsan oblivious to what was happening challenged his brother casting a fireball his way playfully teasing.
"Why you come here!" Eleur said in brotherly banter but soon the sparring match spiraled into something fiercer. Eleur lunged, blade flashing in practiced arcs—his talent with the sword undeniable but this time every blow fueled his rage. Elsan followed, fingers weaving his staff casting spells snapping sharp in the air. The brothers were exchanging blows and somehow Lemeric was stuck in between them dodging both sword and spells.
"Em! Come here, stay away from them!" Evie cried waving his hand.
It seems that wasn't the best thing to do because it only stoked the twins' competitive fire.
"If she can't give us nicknames, she shouldn't call you one either!" Eleur barked, pressing his blade forward.
"Please stop attacking," Lemeric said evenly, sidestepping with the effortless calm of someone who had dodged assassins since childhood. Their strikes never touched him.
"I know, big brother!" Elsan's eyes glimmered with mischief. "You should take the nickname Em instead, I'll be El!"
"That's not how it works," Lemeric replied flatly—just as he bounced back a spell Elsan casted, sending the younger twin sprawling with a deft knock.
"Elsan!" Evie gasped, rushing into the training grounds.
In that moment something shifted in Eleur gaze.
Eleur's face flushed with anger. Growling, he clutched the sword tighter - its steel darkly luminous, veins of shadow writhing along the edge. Eleur threw an aggressive blow.
Lemeric's expression tightened. He raised his sword to block it, but even so, the backlash from the strike drew blood—a shallow cut across his arm.
The scent of it stirred Sol. The young Lupinara snapped awake, it could smell the scent of bloodlust, a low growl rolling from his throat.
"Eleur! What are you doing! Calm down a bit!" Elsan shouted, panic cracking his voice.
But Eleur wasn't listening. His eyes burned with fury, his grip tight, movements ragged with unnatural aggression.
"Hey that's dangerous!" Lemeric urged, deflecting the next blow.
Eleur did not calm. He pressed harder, every swing heavier, darker, as though the weapon itself fueled his rage. Sol lunged in defense, fangs flashing, and for a moment pinned the boy. But Eleur's strength, bolstered by the cursed blade, threw the hound off. Sol tumbled across the courtyard with a sharp yelp.
"Hey Eleur stop! You're going to far!" Elsan threw himself in between the raging Eleur and Lemeric.
But Eleur just threw his twin to the side as though he weighed nothing.
Lemeric froze. Recognition hit him. That blade—he had seen the illustrations in Montclair's library. The Hero's sword, the one that slain the great dungeon monster of the West absorbing all its mana. But what was such a weapon doing here, hidden in Caerwyn Manor?
"The sword! Somethings wrong with the sword!" Lemeric called to Elsan, his voice sharper now. He cast a spell—simple, meant to purify Miasma and disarm.
But the spell surged—far stronger than he intended. Power snapped through him, wild and new. That wasn't his. He couldn't cast on this scale. So where had it come from?
Light tore across the courtyard. Eleur's cursed blade cleaved through it, splitting the spell in two. For a moment, the miasma thinned and clarity returned to his eyes.
"What… what's going on..." Eleur stammered, dazed.
But Lemeric had no time to answer. The second half of the split spell was still flying.
Straight at Evie.
"Evie!" All three boys shouted at once.
The blast struck. She threw her arms up, eyes squeezing shut as the force hurled her backwards through the racks of training gear. Wood and steel clattered as she disappeared into the wreckage.
"Evie!" They sprinted toward her expecting the worst—
—but froze when the dust settled.
Evie was alive. Her bundled dress glowed faintly, protective mana circles woven into the threads by her mother. And holding her—cushioning her from the fall was Baron Edrien himself.
Relief lasted only an instant.
Evie's wide eyes brimmed with shock as she looked up—first to the glowing shield of her dress, then to the towering figure of her father holding her. For a breath she said nothing, her lips trembling, as though her mind couldn't catch up to the storm around her.
Then it broke.
Her face crumpled, red and wet, as the tears came. Her voice tore free in a wail so raw it rattled the courtyard walls. It wasn't the cry of a child who scraped her knee or lost a toy—it was deeper, shaking with fear she didn't yet know how to name.
She clung to her father, eyes squeezed shut, the sobs rolling out of her chest in waves. Loud. Shattering. Heartbreaking. The kind of sound that silenced even steel and spell.
And only then did the boys notice—the crowd. Guards, servants, even Master Aaron had gathered in silence, witnessing the chaos.
Baron Edrien's did not say anything his emotion was unreadable. He only kept Evie cradled in his embrace.
"Ed!" Baroness Elowen ran forward, gathering her daughter. "It's all right, Evie, Mama's here. Let's get you to your room." She swept her away, Evie still crying in her arms.
At the same moment Aaron moved quickly, wrapping the cursed blade in white cloth and tied it with a gold cord with intricate spell circles, his jaw tight.
"Master I—" Eleur began, trembling.
Aaron looked at his student disappointment written all over his face.
Baron Edrien's shadow loomed over the three boys, his presence colder than steel. His voice fell heavy and echoed with a boom only a seasoned adventurer can inflict;
"Boys. My study. Now."
Even Sol whimpered, tail tucked.
Lemeric's chest tightened. If not for the Baroness's protective enchantments —or the Baron's swift rescue—Evie might have been lost. The fault was his. He should never have taken the fight. Now, surely, they would cast him out of Caerwyn… and worse, they would keep him away from Evie.