Days passed in a quiet blur after the victorious return from the frontier.
The monsters had been driven back. The villages were spared. And though there had been losses, the duchy endured stronger than ever. In the aftermath of the siege, the Northern Capital was filled with quiet gratitude and rebuilding. Snow melted slowly into early spring, and the northern skies once again opened to calm winds.
Alaric and Jorin, recognized for their courage during the expedition, were now officially training under the duchy's elite instructors—knights who had fought in wars past and carried the scars and wisdom of survival. Each morning, they woke with the sun, sparred until their limbs ached, and meditated until their auras pulsed with rhythm.
The days were long but fulfilling. When they weren't training, the children would eat together, laugh through sore muscles, and explore the city's plazas and winding alleys. Even Lireya, ever-busy with her duties, made time to observe their progress when she could.
Spring turned to summer, and summer to early autumn.
Then, as the golden leaves began to drift across the courtyards, Lira and Malric approached their thirteenth birthday.
At breakfast, the family gathered in the sunlit dining hall.
Lireya sat at the head of the table, her silver hair braided in a simple yet elegant fashion. Across from her sat her husband, Marek, a quiet but firm man with earthy brown eyes and a composed aura. The twins sat beside Alaric and Jorin, all halfway through their steaming breakfast plates.
"Your thirteenth birthday is approaching," Lireya said, smiling gently at her children. "We've begun preparations for the celebration."
Malric nearly choked on his bread. "You remembered?"
"Of course," Marek replied. "It's not just a birthday—it marks your entry into early adulthood. It's tradition across the kingdom."
Lira clapped her hands together. "Does that mean I get a crown?"
Lireya chuckled. "No crowns, but there will be dancing, food, and very important guests."
"Like who?" Malric asked, tilting his head.
"The royal family," Marek answered. "The king and queen will attend. And the crown princess and prince as well."
Jorin's eyes widened. "The royal family? Really?"
Alaric leaned in curiously. "Have you met them before? What are they like?"
Malric shrugged. "Only once, when I was really young. The prince was small and kind of quiet."
Lira smiled. "But the crown princess is beautiful and smart. She's also a powerful mage—or so they say."
Jorin whistled. "Imagine if she gave me her blessing to join the royal battalion."
"Keep dreaming," Malric smirked.
"You'll probably spill soup on her dress," Alaric teased, and they all laughed.
Lireya and Marek exchanged a glance over their tea, both smiling softly at the children's ease.
"We want this to be a celebration you'll remember," Lireya said, looking at the twins. "One that marks a future only you can shape."
The sun hovered just above the training yard as Alaric and Malric stood in their sparring stances.
Sweat glistened on their foreheads. Their real swords clashed again and again in bursts of sharp rhythm—blow, parry, strike, dodge. Dust kicked up beneath their boots as they weaved and tested each other's limits.
Alaric lunged—but Malric twisted, feinted low, and swept Alaric's legs from under him.
Alaric hit the ground with a grunt.
"Oof… again," he said through clenched teeth.
Malric grinned and extended a hand to pull him up. "You're getting faster. Almost had me."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Alaric replied, brushing himself off.
Lira and Jorin approached from the courtyard, waving.
"Still beating him, I see," Lira said, smirking.
Alaric rolled his eyes. "Barely."
As they walked toward the water barrels to cool off, Alaric glanced at the twins.
"It's almost time, huh? You'll be leaving for the Grand Arcanum soon."
Malric nodded. "In a week. I already started packing."
"I'm going to miss beating you in the training yard," Lira teased.
Jorin puffed up. "By the time you come join us, Alaric, I'll be way ahead of you. Rank Two, minimum."
"Oh really?" Alaric raised a brow.
"Yep. I'll be the strongest aura user in our year."
"I look forward to proving you wrong," Alaric said with a smirk.
They all laughed again, the setting sun painting the training grounds in hues of orange and gold.
Then, after a pause, Alaric added with quiet determination, "I'm going to train even harder. I want to be strong—like Duchess Lireya. Strong enough to protect those I care about… strong enough that no one will ever take anything from me again."
The other three fell silent for a moment.
Then Lira stepped forward, her tone firm. "Me too."
Malric nodded. "We'll all get stronger. Together."
Jorin raised a fist. "Next time, we'll be the ones leading the charge."
Their laughter returned—fueled now by a deeper resolve.