“You’ll have to leave soon, won’t you?” He asked quietly.
Celly was quiet for a mont, but she seed to already know that this would be it, “Yeah. In two more months, I’ll be returning to Vasmoria.”
“–” He looked down with a silent sadness in his athyst eyes.
“But, Emilio…”
“Huh?”
“You’ll be able to co see on your own again. You’re planning on becoming an adventurer soon, right?” Celly asked with a kind smile.
As he looked up at her, the sunlight caused those erald eyes of her to glitter with a kaleidoscope of beauty and benevolence, leaving him speechless.
All he was able to do was simply nod his chin.
“Well, you can’t explore the world without seeing Vasmoria, now can you?” Celly asked.
The somber expression on his face faded away as he began to smile, shaking his head, “No.”
“Then I’ll be waiting. I’ll wait for the day that the great adventurer, Emilio Dragonheart, cos to visit in Vasmoria. But, I won’t fall behind either, by that ti, I promise I’ll be a certified archmage,” Celly told him.
“Promise…?”
The young woman with enchanting silver locks smiled, holding her tall hat on her head as a breeze whistled by before an idea seed to pop in her head before she leaned closer to him..
“Hold your hand out,” she told him.
“Hold hand out…?” He said before extending his hand with his palm facing upward, “…Like this?”
Celly nodded, “Just like that.”
Without knowing what she was planning, he watched as she placed her palm against his own. A small tint of pink ca to his cheeks as he felt the silken smoothness of her pale hand against his.
What he assud to just be his blood running warm with fluster was in fact sothing else–a blue glow persisted between their hands.
“What’s this…?” He asked.
“Tell your promise, Emilio,” Celly asked him.
He looked at her for a mont before accepting, “…I promise to beco an accomplished adventurer. Sobody that can freely explore the world and discover its mysteries, and take in its joys!”
Celly smiled, “I promise to beco an archmage capable of understanding the nature of magic and sharing that knowledge with others.”
As he watched in quiet awe, Celly withdrew her hand to reveal that they both had a mystical seal imprinted on their palms: it was the shape of a four-pointed star, etched with a light-blue shade.
“A ‘Rembrance Bond’,” Celly told him.
“‘Rembrance Bond’?” He repeated.
“It’s a bond forged between us–the promises we made maintain this seal,” Celly explained while showing him the shared star on her palm, “…Only once we et again with our promises fulfilled will the bond be completed.”
Such a concept invoked a bright smile on his face as he ran his fingertips over the mystical seal before looking at the young woman, “Thanks, Celly.”
“No, I should thank you…”
“Huh?”
“Seeing you so involved with magic, full of passion and determination to learn…It reminded how much I love it, too. Thank you, Emilio.”
The smile he received from Celly surpassed the beauty of the flourishing day; it was a smile brighter than the sunlight beaming down on the pale-green fields.
–
With the beauty of spring at its peak, a special day had arrived.
“Happy Birthday, Emilio!”
–As he stepped into the living room quarters, he was greeted by those words shouted in unison from his parents, Irene, and Celly.
It was exactly one year from when he’d be setting out on his own journey, so a part of it felt bittersweet, but that was overshadowed by his own joy.
The sweet aroma of cake batter t his nose as he saw a vanilla-frosted cake sitting on the dining table, decorated with lavish velvet that only ca out for special occasions. It wasn’t just that; a bountiful, warm feast was waiting.
He was taken aback, but smiled, “…You didn’t have to do all of this!”
Before he could get another word in, Julius’ arm was already slung around his neck, ruffling his locks with a laugh, “‘Course we did! This is a big day, Emilio!”
“Mhm! Turning thirteen ans you’re a man now–just look how fast you’ve grown up,” Treyna smiled brightly.
“Man”? He thought.
It was definitely sothing he wasn’t aware of, but he did suspect sothing like this of the dieval world of Arcadius. There were certainly much different standards than on Earth, but he wasn’t complaining–this ant he had the privileges of an adult much earlier.
The celebrations began–it wasn’t anything grand or lavish, but it was better that way–celebrating with the other four mbers of the household, a warm, fuzzy feeling filled his stomach.
“Congratulations, Emilio!” Irene held her hands together.
“Mhm! Thanks,” he smiled.
As he was delving into so cake, he was greeted by sothing of a surprise–
Julius handed him a long, thin object that was wrapped in a beige cloth, kept sealed by a tail of rope that he accepted into his arms, but didn’t know what it was.
It’s a bit heavy…He thought.
“What’s this?” He looked up.
Both Treyna and Julius were looking down at him proudly as he held the object in his arms.
“Open it,” Julius said with a smile.
He nodded, beginning to undo the rope around the cloth-wrapped item. As he took the rope off, he moved the cloth while the others watched, unveiling what was kept tucked in the fabric:
“Wow…”
A gold-tipped scabbard of black material sat on his lap now, with a poml of the sa shine. He unsheathed the blade halfway, looking at its beautiful shine; it was similar to his father’s beloved sword as it was mostly forged of black steel, but the edges had a silver finish.
“How do you like it? Had it forged by an old friend in Vasmoria. He’s a bit of a hardass, but he’s the best blacksmith I’ve ever t,” Julius asked, standing beside him.
He was in awe of the craftsmanship of the blade, “It’s amazing–thank you, father, mother!”
As he tucked it back into its scabbard, he set the gifted sword down and embraced both of his parents.
“Heh! Happy Birthday, kid!” Julius said.
“You’re all grown up now,” Treyna said.
After pulling away from the embrace, he unsheathed the sword again, getting a full look at it in its unrestrained glory. The sunbeams that glead through the window reflected off of its spotless steel.
“So, got a na for it?” Julius asked with a smirk.
“Huh?”
“The sword of a swordsman with high prospects needs a na. Give the bards sothing to sing about!” Julius laughed.
He thought about it for a mont while everybody in the room looked at him. It was definitely a sentint he agreed with, though it was mainly because wielding a nad blade to him was about the pinnacle of “badassery” in his opinion.
A na…? He thought.
Looking at the black-and-silver blade, he inspected its design; the smooth darkness that ran down its center and the silver edges that ran parallel to the shadows.
“Silver Wing,” he said.
“–“
For a minute, everybody else was silent after he uttered the chosen na for his sword. But, the first to make noise was, of course, his father.
“S-s-silver Wing? Is that what I think…?” Julius stamred out.
He smiled and nodded, “Mhm! I wanted it to be like your na–”Silver Wind”–so I went with “Silver Wing” for it.”
“Ahh! This is my proudest mont as a father!” Julius yelled out as tears imdiately stread down his cheeks.
It was an expected display from his father, who was a surprisingly emotional man when it ca to things like this, but he did genuinely want to give his sword such a na.
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