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Third Person POV
The morning they left Hage was bright and clear. The village, which had been wary of their arrival, now saw them off with genuine warmth. Michael, taking a page from his father's book of pragmatic generosity, didn't just hand out coins, which would only make the villagers a target for bandits. Instead, he presented the village priest with a heavy purse of gold, along with a formal letter bearing the Kira family seal.
"A donation for the church, the orphanage, and for the village's upkeep," he had explained, his voice polite but firm. "House Kira is grateful for the hospitality shown to its son."
The message was clear: this village had provided a service to a royal house, and was, by extension, under its notice. It was a gift and a subtle shield, a political move his father would have been proud of.
The trio, along with Elara, climbed back into the grand carriage. The door shut, and as they pulled away from the giant demon skull, the atmosphere inside could not have been more different from their journey there.
The ride to the tower had been a painful exercise in silence, every second thick with unspoken tension. The ride back was loud.
It was filled with easy laughter, the kind that only comes from deep, comfortable friendship. They talked for hours, the awkwardness of their new "understanding" having completely evaporated, leaving only a new, easy-going warmth in its place.
"I'm just saying," Ignara argued, leaning forward, her red grimoire open on her lap as she traced its fiery sigils, "that a four-leaf clover is just for show. It means you have potential. A three-leaf means you've got guts."
Acier, who was calmly studying the first few pages of her own, impossibly elegant grimoire, didn't even look up. "It means I'm destined for greatness, Ignara. You're just destined to be... loud."
"Hey!"
"She's not wrong," Michael chimed in from where he was sitting, trying (and failing) to meditate. He was trying to feel out the three spells the voice had imprinted in his mind. "The first thing you did with your new power was nearly set the carriage on fire when you tried to light a candle."
"That was a calculated test of its output!" Ignara shot back, her face flushing.
"It was a fireball, Ignara," Acier said, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. "In an enclosed wooden space. It was the opposite of calculated."
Michael chuckled, opening his eyes. "At least we know it works."
Their days on the road passed like this, a comfortable, happy blur. They talked about their new powers, about the future. They talked about the strange, gruff man Michael had met, and Ignara had already decided she wanted to punch him. Acier was more interested in the lore, in what an ancient, non-book grimoire could possibly mean. And Michael... Michael just felt at peace. He felt right.
Days later, the carriage rolled through the grand white gates of the Kira estate. As they pulled up the long, familiar drive, they saw a group of people waiting for them on the main steps.
"Huh," Michael said, peering out the window. "Mother's here... and she brought company."
As they got closer, they saw it was all three of their mothers. Seraphiel, his own, was practically vibrating with excitement. Lady Virelia Silva, Acier's mother, stood beside her, her silver hair and graceful posture the very picture of noble elegance. And next to her was Lady Evelina Vermillion, Ignara's mother, her fiery red hair tied back in a stern bun, but her eyes held a proud, warm light.
And next to her was Ignara's older sister, Lysandra.
The carriage stopped. The trio tumbled out, Elara following behind with a smile.
"You are back!" Seraphiel cheered, rushing forward to hug her son.
"Welcome home," Virelia said, embracing Acier with a gentle, proud hug.
"You took your time," Evelina said to Ignara, which was her way of saying "I missed you," before pulling her into a firm hug.
The initial greetings were warm and loud. But as the excitement settled, Acier, who was always the most observant, was the first to notice. Her eyes widened, and she stared at Lysandra, who was smiling at her younger sister. Lysandra wore a flowing, crimson gown, but not even the loose-fitting robes could hide the clear, proud swell of her stomach.
Acier's hand flew to her mouth. "Lysandra... you're...!"
Ignara, who had been loudly recounting the part about the earthquake, stopped mid-sentence and followed Acier's gaze. Her jaw dropped. "Holy... Lysandra! You're huge!"
Michael, too, was completely shocked. Lysandra just laughed, a deep, hearty Vermillion laugh that shook her whole frame. She placed a protective hand on her belly.
"Surprise," she said, her grin fierce. "Looks like you three aren't the only ones who've had a busy year."
A flurry of congratulations erupted. Ignara, after a moment of stunned silence, was thumping her older sister on the back (a little too hard, causing her to wince) and demanding to know when, why she hadn't been told, and if it was a boy or a girl.
"We don't know yet," Lysandra said, rubbing her back where Ignara had hit her. "But the names are decided. If it's a girl, she will be Mereoleona. If it's a boy, Fuegoleon."
"Strong names," Michael noted, impressed. He looked around. "Where's your husband? Is he not here?"
"Pah," Lysandra snorted. "Father dragged Ardan off on a mission to the border. Something about 'showing his new Vice-Captain the ropes,' but I think he just wanted a new, high-ranking sparring partner."
Evelina Vermillion stepped in, seeing the curious looks from Michael and Acier. "You haven't been formally introduced to Ardan, have you? He and Lysandra were married three years ago. He's... well, he's the calmest Vermillion I've ever met. Ignatius made him his Vice-Captain in the Crimson Lions last year. A wise choice. They call him the 'Ember Sage.'"
"While the rest of us are wildfires," Lysandra added, her smile softening, "he's the steady hearth. A good balance for me."
"His magic is as unique as he is," Evelina finished. "Ember Magic. A flame that doesn't burn, but mends and supports. It's... exactly what our family needed."
As the talk of new family members continued, Seraphiel, who had been watching the trio with a knowing, mischievous glint in her golden eyes, decided to stir the pot.
"Speaking of 'balance'..." she said, her voice sing-song. "You three seem... different."
The trio's easy-going chatter instantly ceased.
"Much closer than when you left," Seraphiel continued, her grin widening. "That awkward, silent carriage ride must have been very enlightening. Did you... 'sort things out'?"
The reaction was immediate. Acier's face went from pale to a deep scarlet, and she suddenly found the gravel on the driveway to be the most interesting thing in the world. Ignara started sputtering, her own face turning a shade that matched her mother's hair.
"What! No! We just... Shut up, Lady Seraphiel! It's not... we didn't... It was just a long trip!"
Virelia and Evelina were now paying very close attention, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Michael just sighed. He felt a blush creeping up his own neck, but he held his ground. This was his mother; evasion was pointless. He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a look that was equal parts exasperated and fond. "Mother, please, don't tease them."
He turned to the other mothers, who were now watching him intently. He took a deep breath. This was it. He reached out, his hand finding Acier's. He reached with his other, his fingers brushing Ignara's. They both jumped, but they didn't pull away.
"We... had a talk," Michael said, his voice clear and steady. The three mothers leaned in.
"I realized... what I had been missing for a long time," he said, giving both Acier's and Ignara's hands a gentle squeeze. "I feel the same way they do. We decided we're not going to rush anything, or... or put a name on it. We're just... going to take it slow, and be together. The... three of us."
A beat of stunned silence.
Then, Seraphiel threw both her hands in the air. "FINALLY!" she yelled, her voice echoing off the estate walls. "I thought I was going to have to lock you three in a room! It's about time!"
"Oh, thank the heavens," Virelia Silva sighed, fanning her face with her hand, her legendary diplomatic composure completely gone. "The pining was getting exhausting, Michael. Truly."
"IT'S ABOUT TIME!" Evelina Vermillion laughed, a sharp, barking sound of genuine joy. "I was wondering how long it would take you to catch up, boy! Ignara's been complaining about you being 'dense' for two years!"
"MOTHER!" Ignara shrieked, her face now beyond red.
Lysandra just grinned, folding her arms over her belly. "Called it. You three were always orbiting each other. Glad you finally figured out how gravity works."
The trio stood there, mortified but also, undeniably, relieved. It was out. And the world hadn't ended.
After the excitement died down, Virelia's expression turned serious. "Well," she said, her voice regaining its calm, noble tone. "Now that the important business is settled... show us. The grimoires. This is what the trip was for, after all."
The mood shifted. This was the true marker of their future.
Acier stepped up first. She was nervous. She held out her hands, and with a shimmer of silver light, her pale, elegant grimoire materialized, floating above her palms.
The adults crowded around. Virelia's eyes widened. "Acier... is that...?"
Acier opened the grimoire to its cover. The four-leaf clover was unmistakable, shining with an inner light.
A collective gasp. "A four-leaf..." Evelina whispered, her eyes wide. Lysandra let out a low whistle of genuine impressed. Seraphiel's smile was one of pure, unrestrained pride. "Oh, Acier," she breathed. "That's wonderful! You're destined for incredible things!" Congratulations poured in, and Acier's blush returned, but this time it was one of pride.
"Ignara. You're next," Evelina said, her voice sharp but proud.
Ignara, a little self-conscious after Acier's big reveal, stepped forward. She thrust her hands out. "Here." Her grimoire appeared in a blast of heat, its scorched-red cover glowing like a hot ember, the fiery sigils on its cover almost writhing.
"Ah, a perfect match!" Evelina said, nodding in approval. "A grimoire with as much fire as you have."
Seraphiel noticed the flicker of doubt in Ignara's eyes, the quick glance she stole at Acier's four-leaf book. The Captain of the Golden Dawn stepped in immediately.
"Don't you dare think for a second that this is any less impressive, Ignara," Seraphiel said, her voice sharp, cutting through the air. "A grimoire's power isn't in its leaf count; it's in the wielder. My grimoire is a three-leaf. And last I checked, I'm still the one all the Diamond Kingdom mages have nightmares about." She puffed her chest out, striking a dramatic pose. "I am, after all, the strongest, most beautiful, most... "
"Alright, alright, Seraphiel, that's enough," Virelia cut in, rolling her eyes with a fond smile. Evelina just snorted.
"Now," Seraphiel said, dropping the pose and turning her full attention to her son, her expression instantly serious. "Michael. Your turn."
The courtyard went quiet. All eyes turned to him.
Michael stood still. He didn't have a book to summon. He looked at his empty right hand, remembering the weight of the spear, the feeling of its power. He remembered the gruff voice. I am your grimoire.
He focused. He willed it to appear.
There was no flash of light, no gust of wind. One moment, his hand was empty. Next, the spear was in it.
The effect was immediate and profound. All four women, three powerful noble matrons and one of the strongest young knights in the kingdom, took an involuntary step back.
It wasn't a spell. It wasn't a grimoire. It was a thing. An artifact of ancient, terrifying power. The blood-red blade seemed to drink the sunlight. The intricate golden guard and dark green shaft looked impossibly old. The very presence of it sucked the air from their lungs and made their skin tingle with static.
"Michael..." Seraphiel whispered, her hand instinctively moving to where her own grimoire would be. "What... is that?"
"This," Michael said, his voice quiet but steady as he tested the spear's perfect balance, "is my grimoire."
He took a deep breath. "It's going to sound... strange."
He explained everything. The earthquake. The pillar of light. The strange void. The man in the teddy bear suit who swore like a sailor. The garbled name. The message that he was the grimoire, a weapon, a key. The two-week sync time. The mind-space training. The pre-loaded spells.
The adults were completely floored. This was magic beyond their understanding.
"A man... in a void..." Virelia murmured, trying to process the political and historical implications. "This is a magic that predates the grimoire system entirely."
"A sentient weapon," Lysandra said, her eyes fixed on the red blade, her warrior instincts on high alert. "A spirit, maybe? Like Undine in the Heart Kingdom, but... different. Something more ancient."
"A grimoire bound directly to a soul, not to a book," Seraphiel concluded, her mind racing. "A power that manifests as its true form." She looked at her son, a new, serious light in her eyes. "A Soul Weapon."
They all nodded. That was the only name that fit. "A Soul Weapon."
The excitement of the homecoming was now replaced by the heavy weight of this new reality. Seraphiel clapped her hands, her voice pulling them all back to the present. She was all business.
"Alright. This changes things, but the goal is the same. The next Magic Knight Entrance Exam is in exactly one year."
She looked at Acier and Ignara. "You two have new spells, new power. Acier, you have the potential of a four-leaf. Ignara, you have the fire of a Vermillion. You will spend this year mastering every single page of those books."
She looked at Michael. "You have a Soul Weapon... and 2 weeks before your 'partner' even wakes up. You will master the three spells he gave you until you can cast them in your sleep. When he wakes, you will learn everything you can."
Her captain's gaze swept over all three of them, sharp and unyielding. "This year is your forge. I expect to see three warriors standing before me, not three children. Don't disappoint me."
The trio looked at each other. The fear and the awkwardness it was all gone. In its place was a shared, unshakeable determination.
They all nodded, a single, unified motion. They were ready.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
NOW YOU KNOW WHERE MEREOLEONA IS!! AND IS SOUL WEAPON A GOOD NAME?
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