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A slice life chapter. More relationship building.
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Third Person POV
Michael's question hung in the small, enclosed space of the carriage, "Should we... talk about what is going on between us?"
The air, which had just been filled with the chaotic energy of relieved panic, snapped tight with a new, even more painful awkwardness. Acier and Ignara, who had been clinging to him a second before, were now frozen.
Absolute, dead silence reigned.
Acier, a noble to her core, was the first to try and regain her composure. She pulled back slightly, though she didn't let go of his coat, and fixed her eyes on her own hands, which were now twisting in her lap. Her face was a bright, painful red.
"I'm... I'm not sure what you mean, Michael," she said, her voice small and formal. "We were just... very worried. You were unconscious for so long. It was a stressful situation for everyone."
Ignara nodded, her head moving way too fast. She let go of him and crossed her arms, leaning back against the carriage wall as if she were completely relaxed, but the deep blush on her face betrayed her. "Yeah, what she said! What's there to even talk about, you dense idiot? We thought you were dead! Of course we were yelling!"
Michael didn't sigh. He didn't get annoyed or frustrated. He just looked at them. His golden eyes were calm, patient, and held a quiet understanding that was more effective than any interrogation. He just... waited.
The silence stretched. It was a heavy, knowing silence. He wasn't going to let this go, and he wasn't going to let them lie, either to him or to themselves.
It was, as always, Acier's composure that broke first. She hated this. She hated the feeling of being exposed, of her carefully constructed walls crumbling. A single, hot tear of frustration and embarrassment escaped and rolled down her bright red cheek.
"Fine," she whispered, her voice cracking. "It's... it's true. What Elara said. What you figured out. I... I..."
Ignara, who could face down a battalion but couldn't stand this quiet, emotional tension, finally exploded.
"Oh, for gods' sake!" she yelled, her voice startlingly loud in the carriage. She shot to her feet, though she had to stoop due to the low ceiling, and glared at Michael, her entire face and neck the color of her own fire magic. "FINE! WE LOVE YOU! LIKE, REALLY LOVE YOU! I've been in love with you for years, you stupid, charming, dense block of stone! There! Are you happy now?!"
The confession echoed in the carriage, raw and undeniable. Ignara was panting, her fists clenched. Acier was crying quietly, her face hidden in her hands. Both of them were braced for the impact, for the rejection, the awkward "let's just be friends," the end of the one good thing they had.
Michael's expression didn't change, except for the small, soft smile that touched his lips.
Slowly, so they could pull away if they wanted, he reached out. He placed one hand on Acier's cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tear. He placed his other hand on Ignara's cheek, which was still burning hot. They both froze at his touch, their eyes wide and confused.
"There's no need to panic," he said, his voice gentle and low. "And there's no need to rush things. I understand."
He took a quiet breath, his smile becoming a little more real. "And... I feel the same way."
Both girls' heads snapped up. Their eyes were wide, their expressions a mix of total shock and disbelief. "What?" Acier breathed.
"I think I've loved you both for a long time, too," he admitted, a small, embarrassed laugh in his own voice. "I just... I was an idiot about it. I was so focused on training and... well, being dense... that I only just realized it when Elara spelled it out for me."
He looked back and forth between them, his gaze honest and warm. "So, let's just take this slow. Let's enjoy this. Enjoy the journey together, rather than trying to figure everything out right now. We have all the time in the world. Does that sound good?"
The girls were stunned. The crushing weight of their panic, their fear of rejection, all of it just evaporated, leaving a giddy, bright joy in its place. A watery, surprised laugh escaped Acier. Ignara just stared at him, her tough-girl mask completely gone, her expression softer than he had ever seen it.
"Yes," Acier said, her voice thick with happy tears as she lunged forward, hugging him properly this time.
"Idiot," Ignara muttered, but she was smiling as she joined the hug, wrapping her arms around both of them in a grip that threatened to crack their ribs. "Let's do this."
A few minutes later, Elara poked her head into the carriage, her face drawn with worry. "I heard shouting. Is everything... alright in here?"
She was met with the sight of the three of them in a tangled, happy pile. Michael just looked up from the group hug and gave her a reassuring smile. "Everything's fine, Elara. We're just... sorting things out."
Elara looked at the three red, tear-stained, but unmistakably happy faces, and a knowing smile spread across her own. "Well," she said, her voice full of warmth. "I've found a good inn. The proprietor says we can stay as long as we need. We're in the village of Hage."
The three of them pulled apart, the atmosphere in the carriage now light and easy. The awkwardness was gone, replaced by something new and comfortable.
Hage was a small, poor village in the forsaken realm, a place where the kingdom's protection was almost non-existent and life was hard. The houses were simple, made of wood and wattle, and the people who stared at their fine carriage were wary. They weren't used to nobles, and when they did see them, it usually meant trouble.
But the trio didn't act like any nobles they had ever seen. When they walked through the small village market, Michael greeted everyone with the same polite respect his mother had shown the commoners in the capital. It was clear he was a noble of high birth, but he had none of the arrogance.
The day was theirs. For the first time, there was no training schedule, no political functions, and no expectations. They were just three teenagers in a new village.
Ignara, naturally, was drawn to the sound of the blacksmith's hammer. They found him struggling with his forge; his bellows was damaged, and he couldn't get his fire hot enough. "Stand back," Ignara said, a grin on her face. With her grimoire now open in her hand, she focused her Inferno Flame Magic, sending a perfectly controlled, white-hot stream of fire into the forge. The blacksmith's eyes went wide as the iron he was working turned white-hot in seconds.
Acier, meanwhile, noticed a farmer staring sadly at a plow with a broken iron share. "Let me see that," she said. She placed her hand on the cold, rusted metal, and her own grimoire opened, its four-leaf clover glowing. The silver filigree on its cover seemed to crawl to life. The broken pieces of the plow shivered, then flowed like liquid, mending themselves into a single, strong piece, even shoring up a few other cracks the farmer hadn't noticed.
Michael found himself drawn to a small church, which also served as the village orphanage. He met the head priest and the old sister, two kind but overworked people. He saw an old woman sitting on the steps, rubbing her back in pain. He sat next to her and started a simple conversation. As he talked, he discreetly activated Blessing of the First Light, not in a wide, flashy pulse, but as a small, concentrated warmth in his hand, which he rested near her back. After a few minutes, the woman stood up, her eyes wide. The deep, aching pain she'd lived with for ten years was... gone.
They ate a simple lunch of black bread and stew at the village inn, laughing and talking more openly than they ever had before. The new, unspoken "something" between them wasn't awkward anymore; it was a comfortable, exciting current running just beneath the surface.
As the afternoon sun began to dip low, casting long shadows, Ignara's eyes were drawn to the one thing that dominated the entire landscape. Looming over the village of Hage was the skull of a truly massive demon, its bones forming a giant arch over the town.
"Bet I can get to the top first," Ignara said, her eyes gleaming with the familiar challenge.
Michael and Acier both stood up, accepting the challenge instantly.
It was a race. Ignara used small, controlled jets of fire from her feet to blast her way up the massive, bony structure. Acier, more elegant, used her Metal Magic to create small, silver handholds and spikes in the bone, climbing with the grace of a spider. Michael, grinning, simply used his own physical strength, leaping impossible distances from one ridge to another, his body a blur of motion.
They reached the flat top of the demon's crown at almost the same time, laughing and breathless. The view was amazing. From here, they could see the whole village, the tiny people moving about their business, the vast stretches of farmland, and in the far, far distance, the single, dark spike of the Grimoire Tower on its icy mountain.
They sat down on the edge, their legs dangling over the empty eye socket.
"So this is it," Acier said, her voice full of wonder. "The place where the first Wizard King defeated the demon."
Michael nodded, his gaze on the small, proud statue of the Wizard King in the village square below. Michael said. "He fought to protect everyone, noble and commoner alike."
Ignara scoffed, but there was no heat in it. "Sounds like someone else I know," she said, nudging Michael's shoulder with her own. "'A shield for the weak'."
Michael just smiled. "He's a good role model."
They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the sun set. The sky turned from blue to a brilliant, burning orange, then to a soft purple and a deep, starry blue. It was completely peaceful.
It was Acier who finally broke the silence, her voice quiet and a little shy. "Michael... was this... was this what people call a 'date'?"
Ignara, who had been leaning back on her hands, sat up, suddenly very interested in his answer.
Michael looked at them. The last light of the sunset cast a warm glow on their faces. His smile was warm and genuine.
"Glad you both figured it out," he said simply.
Acier and Ignara looked at each other, and a slow, happy smile spread across both of their faces.
"I like it," Ignara said, her voice surprisingly soft.
"Me too," Acier agreed, leaning her head just slightly on Michael's shoulder.
Michael settled back, looking at the first stars beginning to appear. He had one of his best friends, and now, so much more on each side. After the most chaotic, terrifying, and confusing day of his life, it was a perfect end.
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