For Mariel, the days were the sa.
Open the tavern, prepare the als, serve the custors, chat with people all around the world, and repeat.
Today was the sa, with a little change.
As the evening deepened into night, the familiar hum of activity filled Mariel Farlon's tavern. With the city's tournant drawing more people than usual, her inn was bustling with visitors—so honorable warriors, others less so.
It had been a busy day, with patrons coming and going, many of them boasting about their upcoming matches or drowning their nerves in drink.
Mariel moved through the inn like she always did, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She had seen it all over the years—adventurers, rcenaries, and even nobles trying to impress their companions.
But with the increase in foot traffic during the tournant, trouble always followed. And tonight had been no exception.
A burly man, his voice slurred and his movents sluggish, had decided that he'd had one drink too many. His booming laughter quickly turned into shouting, and soon enough, the situation escalated into a full-blown brawl when he swung a fist at another patron. The tables had been overturned, chairs knocked aside, and drinks spilled everywhere.
Mariel had stepped in, her presence commanding as always. Without hesitation, she had subdued the man with swift, efficient strikes that left no room for retaliation. Even in her retirent, her strength and skill were nothing to underestimate. The tavern had quieted after that, a few nervous glances exchanged among the remaining patrons, who wisely kept to their drinks.
Now, as the night stretched on, Mariel stood near the bar, wiping down a mug as she kept a watchful eye on the remaining crowd. The atmosphere had settled sowhat, though the rowdy energy of the tournant-goers lingered in the air. She knew that as long as the tournant was in full swing, her inn would be a hotspot for excitent—and for trouble.
She sighed softly to herself. "Never a dull mont," she muttered.
Just as she was about to return behind the counter, the door to the inn opened, and soone entered.
The door to the inn creaked open, and in walked the young man from earlier that day—Lucavion whose na she had heard when the girl was calling him.
His casual stride and carefree aura were the sa as before, but there was a certain deliberateness in the way he moved as if he had co here with a purpose.
He wore the sa worn clothes, his straw hat tilted low over his face, giving him an air of mystery that hadn't gone unnoticed throughout the day.
He glanced around briefly, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on Mariel. Their gazes t, and in that brief mont, Mariel knew why he was there. He had co alone, and the look he gave her confird it—he was here to talk.
Lucavion made his way to the bar counter, the casual confidence in his movents never faltering. He sat down, leaning slightly against the counter as if he had done it a hundred tis before. His presence, while relaxed, still carried a quiet power that seed to ripple subtly through the air.
Jorkin, one of Mariel's trusted staff mbers, approached Lucavion with a nod, ready to take his order. The young man exchanged a few words with him, his tone as light as ever before Jorkin disappeared to fetch whatever Lucavion had requested.
But Mariel's attention didn't waver. She continued wiping down the mug in her hand, though her focus remained on Lucavion. He had co for more than just a drink. The slight glance he had thrown her earlier had been enough of a signal.
'He's co to talk,'
Mariel thought, setting the mug aside. She wasn't sure what the conversation would entail, but she had an inkling that it would lead back to the starlight mana—the very thing that had stirred sothing deep within her that morning.
Mariel's expression remained as stern as ever as she approached Lucavion, her sharp gaze never wavering. She moved with the sa commanding presence she always carried, her deanor projecting the authority she was known for. To anyone watching, it would seem like a typical encounter between the inn's formidable owner and a patron who had caught her attention.
There were eyes on her, as there often were, given her reputation and the notable presence of this young man. But Mariel's experience told her that Lucavion wasn't the type to seek attention—at least, not the kind that ca with being associated with her. She chose her approach carefully, both to test him and to maintain the illusion that this was just a regular interaction.
She stopped in front of him, her hands resting on her hips. For a mont, the inn seed to quiet ever so slightly, the eyes of a few patrons subtly flicking toward them. Mariel's voice was low and even as she spoke.
"Is there sothing you need?" she asked, her tone neutral, giving no indication of their earlier recognition.
Lucavion, leaning back against the counter, let a small, amused smile cross his lips. His eyes glead with that familiar, playful light, and after a brief pause, he tilted his head up toward her.
"There's no need to act," he said softly, his smile widening just enough to carry a hint of mischief. "I don't mind the attention."
The words hung in the air for a mont, and Mariel raised an eyebrow slightly. He had seen right through her, and what's more, he didn't care. His statent was clear: he wasn't concerned if people thought there was a connection between them if it ant drawing so attention. He didn't mind at all.
It was a bold response and one that made Mariel reevaluate her initial caution. This young man wasn't like most people who crossed paths with her. His confidence, his ability to read a situation, and his complete lack of concern for appearances spoke volus.
'Interesting. Should I just call it youth?'
Mariel's stern expression couldn't help but soften just slightly, though her eyes remained focused and sharp. "Is that so?" she asked, a hint of curiosity creeping into her voice.
Lucavion gave her a knowing look as if he already understood far more than he was letting on. "After all," he continued, his voice casual but steady, "it's not often you get to talk to soone like you."
For the first ti in a long while, Mariel found herself intrigued. Lucavion wasn't trying to hide, nor was he afraid of standing out. There was no pretense with him, and that made her wonder just how much he truly knew.
"Well then," Mariel replied, her voice now carrying a subtle warmth beneath the surface, "I suppose we have sothing to talk about after all."
"Indeed, we do have. Miss Little Bear."
The mont Lucavion spoke those words—
Miss Little Bear
—Mariel's eyes widened in surprise, her stern composure cracking for the first ti in years. That na, the one she hadn't heard in decades, hit her like a wave of mory crashing down all at once. It was a na that only one person had ever called her, and hearing it now, from this young man, sent a chill down her spine.
Her mind raced back to a ti when she had been just a young, reckless fighter—a re mortal trying to survive in a world full of dangers far beyond her understanding. She had been on the brink of disaster, overwheld by an enemy that she had no chance of defeating when
he
had appeared. The figure of starlight, the being who had saved her life and set her on the path she would later follow. It was
he
who had called her by that na, with a smile on his face, teasing her for her stubborn courage in the face of overwhelming odds.
And now, this young man before her—Lucavion—was calling her the sa na.
Her heart raced as the pieces fell into place. The purple light in his eyes, the starlight mana, the way he seed to know more than he let on. This wasn't a coincidence.
Lucavion was connected to that figure
, the one who had shaped her life so profoundly all those years ago.
For a brief mont, Mariel was at a loss for words, the weight of the realization settling over her like a heavy blanket. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, almost reverent. "You… you know him."
Lucavion's smile widened slightly, his eyes twinkling with that sa enigmatic glow. "It seems you rember," he said, his tone light but carrying a deeper aning.
Mariel took a breath, steadying herself. "How do you…?" she began, but she already knew the answer. There was no need to ask the obvious. This young man, with his starlight mana and his knowledge of her past, was undeniably connected to the being who had once saved her.
A mix of emotions surged through her—gratitude, curiosity, and a strange sense of pride. If Lucavion truly was a disciple of that figure, then the fact that he had been sent here, or had co here, ant sothing. And the idea that
she
had been rembered by such a remarkable person filled her with an unexpected warmth.
"Well…..Master had spoken of you."
Mariel's heart swelled with both pride and a strange sense of honor. The fact that she had left such an impression on that mysterious figure—enough to be spoken of to his disciple—was sothing she hadn't expected. For a mont, she felt like that young adventurer again, standing in awe of the being who had saved her.
"I see," Mariel finally said, her voice steadier now, though the weight of the revelation still lingered. "It's been a long ti."
Lucavion nodded, his smile never fading. "Indeed it has."
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