"Regius?"
"Yeah?"
"Does it hurt?" Tavus looked down at his hands. "The Rite. Next week... Dad says you're a Sovereign Grade. That you're a genius. So, it means you held out the longest, right? …I'm scared."
Regius went still. He looked at the boy. He saw the terror of failing, of being weak, of letting his father down.
"It hurts," Regius said. "It will probably be the most painful experience in your life."
Tavus flinched.
"But, the pain is just the price of entry, Tavus. It's a question."
"A question?"
"The summon asks a question: 'Are you strong enough to be my partner?' A Sovereign Grade isn't just about luck or being born special. It's about looking at the fire and refusing to blink, not giving in."
He placed a gloved hand on the boy's shoulder.
"When the pain comes... don't fight it. Accept it. And then prove you are stronger than it. Doubt will only make it harder. Fear feeds the pain like fuel to fire. But will and strength let you overcome it."
Tavus looked up. The fear in his eyes settled into something harder. Determination.
"I won't hesitate."
"Good." Regius smiled. "Now, get up. Your footwork is still sloppy."
———
At night, the house was transformed. Streamers of colored paper hung from the rafters. The smell of roasted meat and spiced cake filled every corner, battling the scent of pine from the open windows.
They crowded around the outdoor dining table. Milo had bought a cask of expensive wine from the city, and he was pouring it with a heavy hand.
"To Sarra!" Milo toasted, raising his glass high. "The only woman in the world crazy enough to marry a soldier and smart enough to keep him alive."
"To Sarra!" the squad chorused.
Sarra laughed, her face flushed with happiness. "You are all terrible influences on my son. But... thank you. For bringing his father home."
"Gifts first!" Milo was vibrating with impatience. "Food later."
He shoved a wrapped rectangular package towards Tavus.
Tavus tore the paper. He gasped. It was the iron dagger Kael had commissioned. The blade gleamed in the candlelight, stamped with the hallmark of a master smith from the capital city of Aethel, Aetherea.
"The ones you get at the War Camp are garbage," Kael grunted from his chair, taking a sip of wine. "That thing will last you decades."
"Thank you, Uncle Kael!"
"Next!" Vera shouted, heaving a heavy box forward.
Tavus opened it and blinked. He lifted out a training mace that looked heavy enough to sink a boat.
"It's adjustable!" Vera beamed. "Start with the lighter weights. When you get stronger, you can make the weights heavier. By the time you graduate, you'll be swinging a wrecking ball."
"Or he'll have dislocated both shoulders," Olin noted, handing Tavus a thick, leather-bound book. "'Introduction to Summon Energy Theory: Volume 1.' Read it. Memorize it. The practical exam is flashy, but the written exam is where they weed out the meatheads."
"Hey!" Vera threw a bread roll at him.
Tavus smiled, looking at the pile of treasures, overwhelmed.
Then, Milo stepped forward. He held a small, velvet box. He turned to Sarra.
"I know your birthday isn't for three days," Milo said, his voice thick. "But... we had a good run. A really good run."
Sarra opened the box.
The firelight caught the deep blue of the stone. It was sapphire refined with energy, cut by accredited jewelers to hold a soft, ambient luminescence. It glowed against the velvet, pulsing gently like a second heart.
Sarra covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. "Milo... this is..."
"It matches your eyes. Your smile. Your beauty. When I first saw this piece, I knew that I had to get it for you. You're the light of my world, dear. And I want you to remember that everyday," Milo said, reciting the line he had practiced the entire ride home. "Do you like it?"
Sarra nodded, tears rolled down her cheeks, unable to speak. Milo smiled, he fastened the necklace around her neck and kissed her.
The room went quiet, the squad watching the moment with soft smiles. Even Kael stopped eating for a second. Regius sat back with a glass of wine in his hand.
He realized, with a jolt of clarity, that he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay in River's End. To watch Tavus grow up.
This is what I'm fighting for, he thought.
The party went late into the night. They ate the cake. They sang songs that were wildly off-key. Tavus fell asleep on the sofa, clutching his new iron dagger in its scabbard.
Eventually, the wine ran dry and the laughter faded into sleepy yawns.
"Alright, everyone rest," Sarra commanded gently. "If I have to clean up vomit tomorrow, I'm evicting all of you."
The squad dispersed. The house settled into a quiet rhythm of slumber.
Regius went to his guest room. He felt heavy, but it was a good—the weight of a full belly and a content spirit. Not the heaviness burdened by expectations and duty.
He sat on the edge of the guest room bed. Changed into a comfortable pair of a shirt and shorts.
For a moment, his hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Looking at the door, it was just a thin piece of wood with a simple latch. No energy traps. No guards.
He listened. He could hear Kael snoring in the living room. The soft murmur of Milo and Sarra upstairs.
Regius made a choice.
He picked up his sword belt and hung it on the bedpost, out of reach. He didn't set a ward. He didn't call on Orion, his Hunter Knight.
"Safe," Regius whispered to the empty room.
He lay back on the bed, the scent of dried lavender rising from the pillow. His eyelids grew heavy. The tension in his wrist finally faded completely.
He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep, surrounded by the people he had sworn to protect.