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The next morning was quiet.

After long discussions, the elves lifted the illusion from the village—now that the demons were defeated, there was no longer any need to hide.

The village “ca alive.”

Houses that had once been burned and cut down now shone again with warm walls, and only Mira and I knew how much elven effort was hidden behind that miracle.

We were sitting in our house when a voice sounded behind the door:

— Children! — Father’s voice.

— You’ve got letters.

He entered, still slling of the fields—dust on his hands, earth on his clothes.

No one would have guessed that he was the baron of these lands, the hereditary lord of the district.

But as he always said:

“While the land is in danger, a baron plows alongside his people.”

Mira and I exchanged glances and stepped closer.

Father took out two thick scrolls, sealed with wax bearing the Academy’s crest.

— The Academy… — Mira said.

— Well hello there, adult life.

I opened my letter.

?? The Letters

Zenhald Helvard.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringent.

The Academy of Ostroenna informs you that instruction is resuming.

Classes will begin in two days.

You are required to arrive by the appointed date…

I looked up at Mira—she was holding her own letter.

— So… — she said, — back on the road.

Mom stood by the stove, wiping her hands on her apron.

— Ah… — she said, trying to smile, but her eyes shimred. — You’re leaving again… You just got back. We barely had ti to enjoy it.

Father sat down beside , placing a hand on my shoulder:

— That’s life, children.

— Soone has to protect Mira.

We sat like that a little longer.

Before leaving, I took out my communication orbs—improved, woven together with my own mana.

— Mom, Dad… — I handed them two neat, softly glowing spheres.

— I upgraded them. The connection is more stable now, the range is greater.

— You can talk to

anyti.

Mira took her own orb and shook it lightly.

— Whoa…

— You designed this system yourself?

— Yeah… — I shrugged.

— Just optimized the connection and wove in a few runes.

Mira snorted:

— “Just”!

— As if there isn’t a genius standing right here!

I blushed but said nothing.

Then I linked my orb to the elven network—it flared softly with a blue light.

— That’s it… Now we’re always connected.

Mom burst into tears.

Father turned away so we wouldn’t see his lips tremble.

We hugged one last ti.

And stepped outside.

?? The Road to the Academy

We flew on two phoenixes—fast as the wind.

Noxus, of course, flew grudgingly, but endured it.

Mira looked ahead, the wind playing with her hair:

— I wonder… — she began.

— Will there be a tournant for the Cup of Norino this year?

I smirked:

— You wouldn’t miss it even if the world was ending.

She huffed:

— Obviously!

— You’re obligated to participate too, Zen.

— Oh, and if we end up facing each other in the finals…

— Can you imagine? Two Helvards in the arena!

She started laughing—

so infectiously that even Noxus grumbled from below:

— Yeah, yeah… and then I’ll be the one collecting your bodies…

Mira shouted down from above:

— Noxus! If you survive, we’ll paint you gold!

And we flew on—

toward the Academy,

toward a new chapter,

toward the future.

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