[POV Liselotte]
The days that followed the ceremony at the guild passed with a strange slowness, as if ti itself were hesitating to move forward.
There were no attacks. No ergencies. No imdiate alarms. And yet, I couldn’t relax. Every morning I woke with the feeling that sothing was about to change irreversibly, like a crack that had already opened beneath our feet and was only waiting for the exact mont to finally shatter the ground.
Leah wasn’t calm either.
I often saw her sitting by the window for long stretches of ti, her gaze lost over the city of Whirikal, watching people co and go—people who didn’t know, who couldn’t know, that their fate was beginning to intertwine with hers. Sotis she looked serene, almost at peace. Other tis, her expression grew distant, as if the word family had beco sothing too large for her to hold on her own.
Chloé, anwhile, was restless in a different way.
Since adopting her semi-human form, her behavior had changed subtly but constantly. She was still protective, still moved with the sharp attentiveness of a wolf, but now there was sothing more to her: a deeper awareness. Her ears reacted to every sound, her tail betrayed her emotions even when she tried to hide them, and her eyes—blue and bright—watched the world with a mix of curiosity and caution.
Three days passed like that.
Until the official summons arrived.
"Today," Leah said softly that morning, holding the docunt with steady hands. "Today they’ll give it to us officially."
I nodded.
I didn’t smile.
Not because I wasn’t happy, but because the weight of that mont was too great to reduce it to a simple smile.
We left together for Whirikal’s central plaza.
The heart of the capital.
The place where important announcents were made, where celebrations, condemnations… and recognitions that marked history took place.
As we walked, I noticed the city was more crowded than usual. rchants had temporarily left their stalls. Artisans leaned out from doors and windows. Soldiers kept order, but even they seed expectant.
"There are too many people," Chloé murmured.
"Ronan wants this to be seen," I replied. "By everyone."
Not just adventurers.
By the kingdom.
And far from there, in a hall covered in polished marble and ancient tapestries, the king of Whirikal watched the n gathered before him.
Dukes. Counts. Representatives of old houses, dressed in luxurious fabrics, discreet but costly jewelry, and calculating gazes. So drank wine with apparent calm. Others spoke in low voices.
"This is unnecessary," said one of them, a duke with a carefully grood beard. "Exposing that result before civilians will only provoke rumors."
"The rumors already exist," another replied coldly. "What’s being discussed now is how to control them."
The king did not speak imdiately.
His gaze remained fixed on the table.
"Ronan is playing a dangerous card," continued a count. "If the girl turns out to be—"
"It’s not an if," the king finally interrupted. His voice was deep, tired. "The artifact does not lie."
Silence spread.
"What concerns us," the king added, "is what will happen when her na is spoken in public."
Back in the plaza, Ronan was already there.
Standing on an elevated platform, accompanied by several high-ranking adventurers, guild mages, and soldiers maintaining a clear periter. When he saw us approach, he gave a slight nod.
"It’s ti," he said when we stood before him.
The plaza was full.
Not only adventurers.
Civilians. Families. Elderly people. Children sitting on others’ shoulders to see better.
The murmur was constant, expectant.
I felt a knot form in my stomach.
Leah took a deep breath beside .
Chloé gently squeezed my fingers with hers, an almost imperceptible gesture, but one full of aning.
Ronan raised his hand.
Silence fell like an absolute command.
"Citizens of Whirikal," he began, his voice amplified by magic. "Adventurers. Soldiers. Today we do not gather to celebrate a simple victory."
He paused.
"Over the past years, the demonic invasion has taken too much from us. Cities. Lives. And also sothing quieter: our high-ranking adventurers."
So nodded.
Others lowered their gaze.
"Rank A, a symbol of strength and experience, has beco scarce. Too scarce for the tis we face."
I felt everyone’s attention sharpen even further.
"But today," he continued, "that number increases."
The murmur returned, restrained.
"Today, the Adventurers’ Guild of Whirikal recognizes three new Rank A adventurers."
My heart lurched violently.
"Step forward."
We moved.
Each step felt heavy.
Not with fear.
With awareness.
I felt the weight of every gaze, every expectation, every story beginning to form around us.
"Lisellote," Ronan said.
"Leah."
"Chloé."
We stopped before the crowd.
I saw faces filled with emotion.
Others with disbelief.
So clearly suspicious.
"These adventurers took part in the containnt of a critical-level demonic threat," Ronan continued. "And survived."
A pause.
"That alone would already be enough."
He gestured toward the artifact one of the mages placed before us.
It was different from the previous one.
More compact.
More… final.
"This artifact will register their identity and magical power onto a special iron card. An official docunt of the guild."
I went first.
I stepped forward.
I placed my hand on the artifact.
I felt the tallic cold travel up my arm, mixed with the controlled flow of my mana. It wasn’t painful, but it was deep, as if soone were reading every corner of my existence.
The iron began to glow.
"Na," announced the mage.
I swallowed.
"Liselotte," I answered.
"Family na."
I hesitated for barely a second.
And then I knew.
"Celium."
A murmur rippled through the plaza as the na was slowly engraved.
I felt a sharp sensation in my chest.
Not sadness.
Affirmation.
That na was not only from a past life.
It was mine.
The card solidified.
Heavy.
Real.
Then it was Chloé’s turn.
She stepped forward with steady confidence.
When she placed her hand down, the artifact reacted differently. The runes flickered. The shadows shifted slightly.
"Na," said the mage, visibly tense.
"Chloé."
"Family na."
Chloé turned her head toward for a second.
And smiled.
"Celium."
I felt sothing inside settle into place.
We weren’t just companions.
We were family.
Finally, Leah stepped forward.
The air changed.
Everyone felt it.
When her hand touched the artifact, it reacted with an intensity that made one of the mages step back. The light was clear. Firm. Authoritative.
"Na," the mage said, his voice trembling.
"Leah."
"Family na."
The silence was absolute.
The iron began engraving on its own.
Letter by letter.
And when the na fully ford, the entire plaza saw it.
Leah Alba Whirikal.
The world held its breath.
I felt my heart stop.
Leah didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
But her eyes filled with an emotion so deep it hurt to look at her.
That na wasn’t just recognition.
It was truth.
One that could no longer be denied.
And in that instant, I knew that no matter what happened next…
Nothing would ever be the sa again.
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