The evening sun dipped behind the hills as Arin made his way home, the faint glow of Valen fading behind him. The road was quiet now, save for the distant hum of cicadas and the crunch of gravel beneath his boots. In his hand, he held his new bronze badge — the proof that he was finally, truly, an adventurer.
He smiled faintly. Silver Dawn… It sounded even better the second time he said it.
The castle came into view, warm light spilling from the windows. Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney — Mira must have started dinner already. For a moment, Arin hesitated at the door. His chest tightened. He'd promised her he was only going to "see" the city. Not… register.
He sighed, pushed the door open, and the scent of roasted herbs and stew wrapped around him.
"You're late," Mira's voice came from the kitchen. "Wash up — food's almost ready."
Arin chuckled nervously. "Right, sorry."
He splashed water on his face, his reflection in the basin showing a mix of excitement and guilt. When he sat at the table, Mira set down two bowls and joined him. Her eyes softened when she saw the tired smile on his face.
"Long day?" she asked.
"You could say that," he said, spooning stew into his mouth. "The city's huge. There's so much noise… so many people. You'd love it."
Mira smiled faintly. "I've had my fill of noisy cities. I like it quiet here."
For a while, they ate in peace. The gentle clinking of spoons was the only sound — until Arin fidgeted, unable to hold it in any longer. He looked up, his throat tight.
"Mira," he began carefully, "can I tell you something?"
Her gaze lifted from her bowl. "Of course."
"I… might've done something today."
Her brow rose. "What kind of something?"
"The kind that involves… the guild."
Her spoon stopped halfway to her lips. "The Adventurer's Guild?"
He nodded quickly. "I just — I didn't mean to lie! I only wanted to look, but then I met a guy named Ren, and we started talking, and before I knew it, I was standing at the counter and—"
"You registered." Mira's voice was calm, too calm.
Arin winced. "...Yeah."
Silence fell between them. The air grew thick. Mira placed her spoon down, fingers interlaced beneath her chin. "Do you have any idea what that means, Arin? You're fifteen. You've never even faced a real monster."
"I can handle myself," he protested. "You've seen me train every day. Kaelith said I've got good instincts, and—"
"This isn't training," she interrupted sharply. "Out there, one mistake can cost you your life."
"I know," he said quietly. "But I can't stay hidden forever. You all risked everything once… I want to do the same."
Her eyes softened, and for a long while, she just looked at him — at the determination burning behind his violet eyes. The same fire Elara once had. Mira sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"You're just like her," she whispered.
Arin blinked. "Mother?"
Mira nodded slowly. "Elara was the same way. Stubborn, brave, and utterly impossible to stop once she decided something." A small smile tugged at her lips. "She would've been proud… and furious."
That made Arin laugh nervously. "Sounds about right."
After a pause, Mira stood and went to a small chest near the fireplace. She opened it carefully, retrieving a small silver charm in the shape of a crescent moon. She returned to the table and held it out.
"If you're going to do this," she said softly, "then you'll do it my way."
He looked at the charm. "What do you mean?"
"Every time you leave, you'll let me bless you," she said firmly. "And you'll take one of these charms with you. No arguments."
He hesitated. "Mira, I—"
"No, Arin." Her tone softened, but her eyes held that maternal steel. "You can chase your dream. But you'll do it with protection — and with someone praying for your safe return."
His chest tightened. "You'd really let me… continue?"
"I can't stop you," she said with a small, sad smile. "You've already taken your first step. And truthfully…" She reached over, brushing his hair gently from his face. "You've grown so much. Elara entrusted you to us so you could live, not hide. Maybe this is what she meant."
Arin swallowed hard, his voice low. "Thank you, Mira."
"Don't thank me yet," she said, handing him the charm. "Tomorrow morning, before you leave, you come here first. I'll give you the blessing. And if you ever forget — I'll drag you back myself."
He laughed, holding the charm tightly. "Deal."
Mira smiled softly, watching him tuck the charm into his pocket. "Now eat up. You'll need your strength if you plan on surviving your first quest."
He nodded, but as they ate, the cottage felt warmer somehow. Not just from the fire — but from the quiet understanding between them.
For the first time, Mira didn't just see the boy Elara left behind.
She saw the adventurer he was becoming.
---
The first light of dawn spilled gently through the window, painting the wooden walls in a soft gold. Arin's eyes fluttered open, the excitement from yesterday rushing back like a spark to kindling.
Today was the day.
He jumped out of bed, washed up, and quickly strapped on his boots and light leather vest. His bronze guild badge gleamed faintly on his chest — a quiet promise of the road ahead. Grabbing his satchel, he stepped into the hallway, the scent of herbs and morning air drifting through the cottage.
At the end of the hall was Mira's door. He raised his hand to knock —
"Come in," her calm voice called before he could.
He hesitated for a heartbeat, then pushed the door open.
Morning light filled the room through half-drawn curtains, casting a soft glow across Mira's figure. She sat by the window, brushing her long white hair loose over her shoulder. Her nightgown — a simple white one with pale silver trim — shimmered faintly where the light touched it.
For a fleeting second, Arin froze. He had always seen her as the gentle caretaker who soothed his nightmares and scolded him for climbing trees barefoot — but now, something about her presence felt… different. Graceful, serene, yet quietly radiant.
Mira turned to him with a warm smile, her eyes soft but perceptive, as if she had noticed his pause and decided to let it pass in silence.
"Up early," she said, setting her brush aside. "I expected you would be."
Arin rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Didn't want to keep everyone waiting."
"I know," she said, standing. From a small box on her table, she brought out two trinkets — a thin white bracelet and a ring, both faintly glowing with a silver light. "Your charms."
He stepped closer, watching as she held them in her palms. The glow reflected in her eyes — warm, protective, almost ethereal.
"Hold out your hand," she said softly.
He did, and she slipped the ring onto his finger, then the bracelet around his wrist. The metal was cool at first, then pulsed faintly with warmth — the warmth of her blessing.
"There," she whispered. "Now you carry my prayer with you. These will guard you from harm."
She lingered for a moment, her hand still over his. Then, leaning slightly forward, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
"May the Goddess be with you," she murmured. "And remember — be careful, Arin."
He swallowed, meeting her gaze, and nodded. "I will."
Turning, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and stepped toward the door. As the light from outside framed his silhouette, Mira's lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile.
She watched silently as he disappeared down the path — the boy she had raised, now walking toward a world that would test him.