Morning arrived quietly.
Soft sunlight filtered through the restaurant windows, painting warm gold across the floor tiles where Mira was still sleeping. She lay curled up beneath her blanket, the pillow hugged close to her chest, her breathing slow and steady. Beside her, the rocking chair creaked faintly — the same chair where her grandfather had slept the night before.
The curtains were already pulled up, and the wooden OPEN sign hung on the door, gently swaying with the faint morning breeze sneaking through the cracks.
Then a familiar hand — wrinkled, gentle, steady — moved into her view.
Her grandfather carefully lowered a steaming cup of coffee near her nose, letting the warm scent drift toward her like a soft invitation to wake up. He didn't tap her, didn't shake her, just let the aroma find her slowly.
Mira's eyebrows twitched first.
Then her nose scrunched a little at the scent.
Finally, her eyes fluttered open halfway.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from her grandfather's chest.
"Good morning, mi nieta."
Mira blinked, still half-swallowed by sleep. "Gramps…?" she murmured softly, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
She sat up slowly — blanket sliding off her shoulders — and the instant she recognized his warm smile, she leaned forward and hugged him without hesitation. Her arms wrapped around him gently, not dramatic or sudden, just a natural, sleepy hug that felt right for a morning like this.
He chuckled again, patting her back. "You always sleep like a cat," he teased.
Mira pulled back slightly, her face still soft with morning haze. "You woke up early again?"
"Old bones don't need much sleep," he said, shrugging lightly. "Besides… someone needed to open the curtains."
Mira smiled faintly, looking around at the sunlight pooling over the wooden tables.
The morning felt softer than usual — quiet, warm, peaceful… the kind of peace she rarely got these days.
.
.
.
They talked for a while — not about anything heavy, just the kind of soft morning talk that made the quiet feel warmer.
Mira stretched her legs out with a small groan. "Ugh… the tiles are freezing," she muttered, rubbing her ankle lightly.
Her grandfather laughed under his breath. "That's what you get for refusing to sleep on the couch."
She shot him in a sleepy glare. "The couch is too soft. I feel like I'll sink and disappear."
"You're dramatic," he teased.
"Says the man who sleeps anywhere," Mira countered, pointing at the rocking chair.
He lifted a brow. "A king must guard his kingdom," he said with exaggerated pride, tapping the armrest.
Mira snorted. "You're not a king."
He crossed his arms. "In this restaurant, I am."
She shook her head, smiling despite herself. "You also snored last night."
His eyes widened. "I do not snore."
"Yes, you do."
"Mira," he said, raising a hand, "I have never snored a day in my life."
She stared at him, completely unconvinced. "Grandpa… I literally woke up because of it."
He gasped softly, hand on his chest like she insulted him. "Lies. All lies."
Mira laughed quietly — the kind of laugh that came out only when she felt safe.
Her grandfather smiled at the sound.
Then, softer, he shifted the cup of coffee closer to her.
"Drink a little," he said. "You skipped dinner last night. You need something warm."
Mira looked down at the cup, steam curling gently upward.
"Mm… I wasn't that hungry."
He gave her a glare — the gentle, old-man kind. "You're always saying that. Eat properly later, understood?"
She sighed. "Yes, Gramps."
"Say it without sighing."
"Yes, Grandpa," she repeated, this time with a little smile.
He nodded, satisfied. "Good."
For a moment, the restaurant felt like it always had before life became complicated — wooden chairs neatly arranged, morning light brushing the tables, and the faint smell of bread still left from last night's baking.
Mira leaned slightly against the table leg, staring at her grandfather's socks — mismatched, one dark blue and one green.
"…Your socks don't match again," she said.
He looked down, surprised. "Ah. They're both warm. That's what matters."
Mira laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"And you," he said, patting her hair gently, "are my favorite impossible person."
Mira looked down, cheeks warming with quiet affection she didn't often show.
"That's unfair," she murmured. "You can't just say things like that in the morning."
"I'll say it anytime I want," he replied proudly.
She smiled — a small, shy one she tried to hide behind her cup.
For a few minutes, they stayed like that — just quietly enjoying the morning, sharing tiny jokes, letting the world outside stay far away.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was just home.
.
.
After a moment, her grandfather stood up slowly, steadying himself with a hand on the counter.
"I have something for you," he said, reaching behind the drawers.
Mira tilted her head. "For me?"
He pulled out a neatly wrapped package — tied with simple string — and placed it in her hands.
Mira blinked, surprised. "What is—"
"Open it," he urged gently.
She loosened the string, unfolded the paper …
And froze for a heartbeat.
Inside lay a beautifully crafted black-and-white light warrior outfit, perfectly sized for her body. The fabric was sleek, flexible, sharp in design but elegant in detail. The hunter-style hood folded neatly behind the collar. The cuts were clean, the colors balanced — mature, strong, and quiet… just like her.
Her eyes widened slightly — only slightly, but enough for him to see.
"Gramps…" she whispered, her fingertips brushing the fabric. "This is… really beautiful."
Her grandfather smiled, eyes soft with pride.
"You've grown, mi nieta. And you've earned many achievements these past years in the Trial of Valor. I thought… you deserve something that fits the warrior you are becoming."
Mira lowered her gaze, heart warmed in a way she rarely allowed herself to feel.
"Thank you… really," she said softly.
He nodded once, then tilted his head as if remembering something.
"So…" he said with a teasing glint, "is your Duel Tournament happening today? The one for all warriors from the Valor Continent?"
Mira blinked, caught off guard. "How do you know that?" she asked, a small amused smile appearing.
He waved his hand. "Ah… an old man knows more things than he lets on."
Then he winked. "Just go and find out for yourself."
Mira laughed quietly — just a single breath of a laugh — and shook her head.
But she felt encouraged.
She hurried to the bathroom, washed up quickly, and took a short bath. Steam fogged the mirror as she dried her hair, her thoughts drifting between excitement and a quiet sense of responsibility.
When she dressed in the new outfit, standing before her tall bedroom mirror, she paused.
The outfit hugged her form lightly and cleanly, not tight — just right.
The black lines framed her posture with strength.
The white accents on its cut sleeves soften the look just enough.
Then she reached up to adjust her long, black hair. Twisting it carefully, she arranged it into twin tails, the upper portion lifted like a subtle, playful arc. She added small, tight braids along each tail, styling her long hair into neat high pigtails with a refined finish that balanced both elegance and readiness.
And the hood, when she pulled it slightly, settled on her head like it belonged there.
"Nice… the hood really gives a vibe."
Curious, she tugged gently at the edge, stretching it slightly over her hair. It moved easily and felt flexible and soft.
"Huh… it's actually stretchy," she noted, twisting it around with her fingers. "That's… convenient. It won't feel tight if I need to duck or dodge in the arena."
She turned left and right, "I don't know if the hood feels right. My hair is long, and it feels cozy but a bit tight inside. Maybe I'll cut it tomorrow; there's no time for that now."
Then she pulled the hood slightly down over her head again.
"But overall, this… fits me, ever since I was a kid." she whispered, a gentle, honest smile forming.
She sighed, "I miss Mother when she does this to me." She looked at her mother's photo sadly.
.
.
.
She turned toward the doorway where her grandfather was pretending to wipe a table that was already clean. He peeked over his shoulder with a proud grin.
"Mira," he said, "you look like a proper warrior now."
She laughed softly. "Gramps, stop looking at me like that. You're making it feel dramatic."
"Dramatic?" He scoffed, lifting a brow. "I am simply admiring my granddaughter who refuses to eat breakfast on time."
"I eat," she protested.
"You nibble," he corrected.
Mira walked closer and adjusted his scarf a little. "I'll eat after the registration… probably."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Probably," he repeated, shaking his head.
Then Mira leaned in slightly, her voice half-teasing, half-serious.
"And you… don't go lifting those heavy crates by yourself again. I caught you yesterday."
Her grandfather clicked his tongue. "Ah, you caught an old man doing his job… how terrible."
"I'm serious," she said, adjusting her sleeve. "Don't make me skip the tournament just to watch you."
"That would be a waste," he teased. "Besides, I am sturdier than I look."
Mira smiled, but there was a soft warmth behind it. "Still… take it easy, okay?"
He waved her off dramatically. "Go! Before I start crying in front of the customers."
"You'd never," she snorted.
"I might," he replied, turning away like an actor on stage.
She shook her head, amused, and stepped toward the door.
"Bye, Gramps," she called gently.
"Good luck, mi nieta," he answered without looking back. "And come home safe."
She lingered for just a moment, feeling the weight of his last words settle gently in her chest. Then she pulled the hood slightly up and stepped out of the restaurant, the morning breeze brushing it lightly.
.
.
.
Voices filled the plaza — villagers, students, warriors — all moving with purpose toward the grand Arena of Valor. Excitement buzzed softly in the air.
Mira walked forward, observing the lively flow of people.
Two young boys ran past her, wooden swords in hand.
A group of teenage warriors argued about strategy.
A vendor shouted about breakfast pastries.
Someone adjusted their gauntlets.
Someone else was scribbling on a registration form.
Mira approached a small group heading the same way.
"Uh, Excuse me," she asked politely, "Are you heading to the Arena of Valor?"
A woman turned… then froze in mild surprise.
"Oh! Mira? Good morning!" she said, smiling brightly.
Mira nodded gently. "Good morning. Can I ask… what's happening at the arena?"
The woman grinned. "Registration for the Duel Tournament! After everyone signs up, they'll draw lots for the matchups. It's going to be big this year."
Mira nodded slowly, absorbing it.
The air felt lighter now — alive with anticipation.
And somewhere inside her chest, something steady began to settle.
Everything was starting again.
And this time…
She was ready.
.
.
Mira adjusted her hood slightly and began walking toward the Arena of Valor — still barely visible in the distance, rising like a massive stone crown on the far side of the city. Even from a few miles away, its size demanded attention.
The plaza streets were already alive. Vendors called out in practiced rhythms, selling breakfast pastries, water gourds, tiny lucky charms, and warrior trinkets. The smell of freshly grilled skewers mixed with the scent of morning dew on the stone paths. People rushed past her … students heading to classes, warriors checking gear, villagers chatting about the upcoming battles.
Mira scanned the movement around her, trying to navigate through the shifting crowd…
…and then…
Thump.
She bumped into someone lightly.
Both of them stepped back.
"Oh, sorry," the girl said immediately, turning around with a quick, reflexive apology.
Then her brows lifted in recognition.
"Oh… Mira! It's you!" Lyra said, her voice bright, half-laughing. "Where are you going?"
Mira blinked, a little embarrassed, rubbing her shoulder. "Sorry. I wasn't looking."
Lyra waved it off. "It's fine. Happens every morning." Then she tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly in playful suspicion. "So? Arena? Registration?"
"Yeah," Mira nodded. "You too?"
Lyra smirked, lifting her chin with a little showy confidence.
"Of course I'm entering. You think I'd miss this year?"
Mira pressed her lips together to hide a smile.
"Okay… then I'll get going."
She took a step…
…but Lyra stepped forward just a little, not grabbing her, just close enough to stop her.
"Wait for me," she said, still teasing … but her eyes carried a small spark, competitive but warm.
"Let's go together. It's more fun that way."
Mira hesitated for half a heartbeat… then nodded.
"Alright."
As they started walking side by side again, Mira glanced at Lyra's outfit … a light, beautiful warrior set that looked both elegant and battle-ready.
"…Wow," Mira muttered, almost under her breath. "You're… kind of ready for battle today. You even look like it."
Lyra straightened proudly. "Kind of? Mira, please. I look ready because I am ready."
Mira gave a small, amused shrug. "I mean… you literally look like you're about to step onto the arena floor right now."
Lyra shot her a sideways look. "And what about you?"
She eyed Mira's gear up and down with a playful smirk.
"You're dressed like some assassin-girl who already finished two missions before sunrise."
Mira blinked. "Assassin… girl?"
"Well, look at you," Lyra teased, nudging her arm lightly. "Dark colors, fitted gear, quiet walk… You're giving 'silent-but-deadly' energy."
"I'm not deadly," Mira protested softly.
"Not deadly?" Lyra scoffed. "I saw you spar last week. You could've broken Tomas' wrist if you didn't hold back."
Mira looked away, embarrassed. "…That was an accident."
"Sure," Lyra said with exaggerated doubt. "Accident."
Mira rolled her eyes. "Fine, say whatever you want. But you're the one who looks like you practiced posing in front of a mirror."
Lyra placed a hand on her chest dramatically. "I did not…"
Mira raised a brow.
"Fine, I did," Lyra confessed. "Once."
"Once?"
"…Three times."
Mira couldn't help a laugh. "Unbelievable."
"You love it," Lyra shot back instantly.
Mira sighed, a small smile returning. "…Maybe."
Lyra grinned, satisfied. "Then let's go. Warrior and assassin … best duo in the city."
Mira shook her head and smiled, but matched Lyra's pace. The two settled into an easy rhythm as the road toward the Arena of Valor came into view.
.
.
.
They walked side by side through the bustling streets. Mira noticed the way Lyra's sling bag bulged slightly … not with weapons or gear, but… papers.
A lot of them.
Lyra reached in, pulling out a thick stack of letters. Each one sealed, neatly folded, stamped with the same emblem: the Duel Tournament crest.
Mira raised a brow. "Why do you have so many papers? Are you in charge of something?"
Lyra grinned smugly. "Well… not in charge, exactly. I'm helping the messenger deliver all these invitations and registrations." She puffed her cheeks slightly. "I can't let the whole city miss today's event. It's the biggest tournament of the year."
Mira nodded. "Want help? So we don't spend the whole morning handing them out one by one."
Lyra's eyes brightened immediately. "Yes. My friend … I appreciate you." She split the stack, half into Mira's hands. "Give them to people who haven't gotten one yet. And be polite."
Mira shot her a look. "I'm always polite."
Lyra let out a playful, exaggerated cough. "Debatable."
Mira elbowed her lightly, and they both laughed under their breath.
Together, they wove through the streets … handing out invitations to students rushing by, to sleepy shopkeepers still opening their stalls, to a pair of young warriors who eagerly asked if they could take two for their friends.
"Two copies?" Mira raised a brow.
"Yes! Our squad needs to see this duel!" one of the warriors said, practically bouncing.
Lyra laughed and handed them extra. "Fine, fine. But if your captain complains, tell him it was her fault." She pointed at Mira.
"Eh… hey!" Mira stepped back, half laughing, half offended. "Why me?!"
"Because you look like the responsible one," Lyra said, smirking.
Mira opened her mouth to argue… then sighed. "Okay, that's fair."
They continued walking, slipping into the natural rhythm of the morning.
They passed a bakery with steam still rising from the ovens. The baker's son yawned so wide his eyes watered as he reached for a broom.
"Registration day again?" he mumbled when Lyra gave him a paper.
"Yep," Mira said cheerfully. "And yes, you're joining this time."
He blinked. "I… what? I didn't…"
Lyra pushed another invitation into his hands. "Your dad already signed your name. Don't even try to escape."
The boy groaned into the broom handle. "Why does no one in this village let me sleep?"
Mira smiled softly. "Because we like seeing you alive."
Further down the road, an elderly florist arranged her bouquets on a wooden table. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and morning dew. Mira gently placed an invitation beside the flowers.
"For me?" the old woman asked with a grin.
"Yes, Grandma Siva," Mira said. "But don't cheer too loudly this time. You almost fainted last year."
"I only fainted because the referee was blind," she snapped playfully, crossing her arms.
Lyra leaned in. "Grandma, you threw your sandal at him."
"It deserved to fly." she chuckled.
Mira burst into laughter … the kind that surprised even her. Light, short, warm.
And it made the walk shorter… warmer… fuller.
Between buildings, the rising sun cast long, soft shadows, and the city hummed with the quiet excitement of a festival. Mira could feel it in every small moment … the shared laughs, the exchanged nods, the simple energy flowing through the streets.
Lyra bumped her shoulder lightly as they approached the next turn. "See? This is better than eating breakfast."
"Lyra," Mira said flatly, "I'm starving."
Lyra blinked. "…Okay, maybe after this street."
"No," Mira said. "Immediately. After. Registration."
Lyra raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll feed you before you collapse."
"But you're paying."
"What?! Why me? You didn't even eat!"
"Exactly."
Lyra stared at her, betrayed. Mira gave her the tiniest smug grin.
"Evil," Lyra muttered.
"Correct," Mira replied.
And they kept walking … step by step, breath by breath … through the living heartbeat of the city.
.
.
.
As they neared a long row of merchant stalls, Mira slowed down. A particular voice caught her ear … hurried, slightly irritated.
She turned her head.
Noah stood at a stall, the plump merchant waving his arms dramatically. Noah held several power-up emblems in his hands, inspecting them with a sharp, unimpressed frown.
Lyra, meanwhile, was a few steps back, surrounded by a small group of excited fans … apparently still buzzing from her impressive performance the night before. She greeted them quickly, returning waves, giving shy smiles, signing a piece of parchment someone shoved at her, and then politely excusing herself.
When she rejoined Mira, she noticed where Mira was looking.
"What's up?" Lyra asked, tapping Mira's shoulder.
Mira pointed subtly. "Look… it's Noah." She lifted her hand halfway, preparing to wave. "He…y…"
Before the greeting finished, Lyra gently clapped her hand over Mira's mouth.
"Shhh." She peeked around Mira's shoulder with a mischievous grin. "Wait… let me handle this."
Mira blinked. "Why are we whispering…?"
Lyra walked away without answering.
Mira watched with confusion… then reluctant amusement.
Lyra moved behind Noah, quiet as a cat, just close enough to see and hear without interrupting.
The fat merchant was talking far too fast.
"These emblems are the finest quality! Absolutely rare! Very powerful…"
Noah frowned, holding one up to the light. "This one has a scratch. And this one still has the previous owner's mark." He pointed at another. "This is literally from last season's basic set… why are you charging triple?"
"Triple?" the fat man gasped dramatically. "Sir! These are… uh… limited edition!"
"Limited edition?" Noah repeated, completely unimpressed. "I have the catalog from last month at home."
Behind him, Lyra slapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Mira's shoulders shook silently from where she stood.
The merchant, sweating, tried desperately to redirect. "Well… you see… supply and demand…"
Noah sighed. "You're overcharging everyone, aren't you?"
Lyra leaned closer, whispering only loud enough for Mira to hear, her eyes glinting with mischief.
"He's gonna explode in three… two…"
Before Mira could react, Lyra straightened up and slapped her hand onto Noah's right shoulder.
"Hey!"
Noah flinched so hard he almost dropped the emblem he was arguing about. "W–What—Lyra?!" His voice cracked between being offended and startled.
The fat merchant raised his hands. "See? Even your friends think my prices are—"
"No," Lyra cut in bluntly, "your prices are still robbery. Stop trying to drag us in."
The merchant huffed but stayed silent.
Noah let out a long breath. "I'm literally being forced to buy this. Triple price for a common emblem? Seriously?"
Lyra crossed her arms, exhaling sharply through her nose. "Just pay him. You're already too stubborn to let it go. You've been arguing for five minutes."
Mira stood beside them, hands resting lightly behind her back, watching the argument with quiet amusement. She didn't say anything — she didn't need to. Noah looked stressed enough for all three of them.
He reached for his pouch but hesitated, jaw tightening.
Lyra noticed it immediately and sighed. "Here," she said, pulling out a few coins. "Use some of mine if you're short. It's just my spare anyway."
Noah blinked. "Lyra, I'm not taking your—"
"It's not charity," she cut in. "It's so we can leave. I swear, we're going to grow roots here."
Mira gave a tiny laugh under her breath.
Noah grumbled but accepted two coins. "Fine. But I'm paying you back."
"You'd better," Lyra shot back with a small smirk.
Finally, he slapped the coins on the counter. "Fine. I'll take the stupid thing."
The fat merchant snatched the payment with suspicious speed — almost like he had been waiting his whole life for someone this desperate.
"Pleasure doing business," the man said, grinning too widely.
Noah rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."
They stepped away from the stand, finally free from the argument. Lyra walked ahead with her arms swinging lightly, relieved. Mira followed beside her, quiet but smiling at how everything turned out.
Noah stayed half a step behind them, staring at the emblem in his hand like it had personally wronged him.
After a moment, he cleared his throat.
"Uh… Lyra."
Lyra glanced over her shoulder. "What?"
Noah looked away immediately. "Thanks. For the coins. And… for dragging me out of that disaster."
Lyra raised an eyebrow, amused. "Wow. You're actually saying thank you? Should I write this down?"
He sighed. "Don't make it weird."
Mira hid a small smile behind her hand.
Lyra lightly bumped his arm with her elbow. "You're welcome. Just don't lose to anyone cheap after buying that overpriced emblem."
"I wasn't planning to," he muttered, but his ears were a little red.
Mira let out a soft laugh. "It's okay, Noah. We all saw how stressful that was."
"It wasn't stressful," Noah protested — a little too quickly. "I was… negotiating."
Lyra snorted. "Yeah. Sure. Negotiating."
Noah groaned into his hands and sighed while Lyra laughed quietly, the tension fade away as they continued down the path.
As they walked, Noah looked around the city. "I hate this city sometimes."
Lyra nudged him with her elbow. "Hey… At least you got the emblem."
"Yeah, yeah." Noah rubbed the back of his head and turned toward the main road leading north. "Anyway… I'm gonna look for Nathan. I need to ask him something before the tournament… He's probably at Atlon Castle." He looked at the girls. "Do you two wanna come with me?"
Lyra answered immediately, almost jumping. "Of course! Come on, Mira… we're going."
Mira offered a small relaxed smile. "Sure. I don't mind."
"Alright then." Noah took the lead, walking toward the main path that eventually connected to the route toward Atlon Castle.
They walked for a bit, the road quieter here, the sounds of the city fading behind them. Noah fiddled with the items in his satchel, checking something quickly before putting one back into his pocket.
Lyra was looking around when she suddenly gasped softly. "Guys… a bunny."
Noah turned his head. "Huh?"
Mira snapped out of her thoughts and looked too.
On the edge of the path, a small gray bunny sat nibbling on a patch of grass. Its fur looked soft, its ears twitching gently in the morning breeze. Lyra leaned forward, squinting.
"I've never seen that one before… Cute."
Noah nodded. "Yeah, not familiar."
But Mira's breath hitched for a moment.
Her eyes widened just slightly — a quiet recognition, something she couldn't ignore.
"Grey?" Her mind whispered it before she could stop herself.
The bunny lifted its head and stared straight at Mira, its small nose twitching, as if trying to remember her scent… or her presence.
Mira took a slow step forward.
"Wait… it's…"
But the bunny suddenly jumped and go away into the bushes.
Mira stretched out her hand. "Wait, no!"
Lyra blinked in confusion. "What? You know that rabbit?"
Noah looked back at her, eyebrows raised. "Do you? You looked like you recognized it." He subtly pushed the item deeper into his pocket.
Mira lowered her hand, staring at the empty patch of grass. Her shoulders dipped a little.
"I… I'm not sure," she said softly. "Maybe I was just imagining it."
But her voice carried a faint ache — something unfinished, something she couldn't explain.
Lyra stepped closer and gently patted Mira's back. "Hey… it's okay. It's just a bunny."
Mira nodded slowly, forcing a faint smile. "Yeah. I know."
Noah, now slightly worried, turned forward again. "Let's keep going. Nathan's probably home."
They resumed walking.
Noah led the way, a few steps ahead, glancing over his shoulder now and then.
Behind him, Mira walked quietly, her smile still there but small, as if she was trying to keep her thoughts from showing.
Lyra stayed close by Mira's side, cheerful but gentle, giving her another reassuring pat.
"You're okay, right?"
Mira nodded. "Yeah… I'm fine."
.
.
.
The three of them continued along the stone path, the tall walls of Atlon Castle drawing closer with every step. The air felt different here—heavier, quieter. Mira walked a few steps behind Noah and Lyra, her boots tapping softly as her thoughts drifted far from the road ahead.
Grey…
Aerois…
Nathan…
The names tangled in her mind, one after another. A quiet guilt rested in her chest—something she didn't know how to explain, something she didn't dare show. It wasn't loud or dramatic. It simply stayed there, steady and hidden behind her calm face.
Ahead of her, Noah and Lyra were deep in conversation, their voices carrying clearly as they talked about the duel.
"I checked all my gear twice," Noah said. "Weapon's sharp. Emblem's active. No mistakes this time."
Lyra nodded. "Same. I even cleaned mine this morning."
Then she added casually, "I also still have my magic."
Noah stopped short. "Your—what?"
Lyra glanced back. "My magic. I learned it when I was still a kid. Miss Teacher Ruby taught us mage skills. I might use it in the final battle."
Noah turned fully toward her, alarm clear on his face. "Are you serious? Magic is banned in the duel. Only weapons and warrior emblems. If you use magic, you'll be disqualified immediately."
Lyra shrugged, hands laced behind her head. "Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. I don't really like following them…" She smirked faintly. "…but I force myself to when it really matters."
Noah sighed. "Figures."
Behind them, Mira listened in silence.
Her steps slowed as Atlon Castle's shadow stretched across the road. The walls rose high into the sky, massive and unshaken. She lifted her eyes—calm but sharp—ready for whatever waited inside.
A few more steps…
Then the gates stood before them.
Two tall spearmen guarded the entrance, their armor catching the light. Without thinking, Noah stepped forward and lifted an arm slightly, blocking Lyra and Mira behind him.
The left guard narrowed his eyes.
"What do you want here?"
Noah bowed his head. "We want to meet Prince Nathan. It's important."
The guard studied him, then glanced at the other. The second guard nodded and hurried off toward the inner halls.
While they waited, the silence thickened.
Noah tried to stay calm. After a moment, he spoke again, carefully. "Sir… does approval usually take long?"
The guard shifted his spear. "Sometimes minutes. Sometimes hours."
Noah nodded. "And the Prince… is he inside the castle right now?"
The guard's gaze hardened. "That is not information given freely."
Lyra scoffed under her breath. "So we walk all this way and we can't even know if he's here?"
The guard's eyes snapped to her.
Noah spoke quickly. "She didn't mean any offense. We just don't want to waste your time… or ours."
The guard's face hardened further. "Every step toward a royal gate is a risk. You chose to stand here."
Lyra shifted on her heels, uneasy as the guard kept glancing their way. "Is there a problem?" she asked, her voice sharper than she meant.
The guard straightened. "Watch your words."
"Easy, Lyra," Noah muttered. "Show some respect."
She clicked her tongue and looked away.
Mira remained behind them, silent. Her foot brushed the cold stone tiles as she lifted her gaze to the castle windows. Her eyes stopped at one balcony in particular.
She remembered it.
The night she stayed inside the castle as a child…
Queen Rhea's gentle voice…
The quiet halls…
Nathan sitting beside her in silence…
Warm memories passed through her like a soft wind.
Then footsteps broke the moment.
The second guard came running back.
"You're allowed," he announced. "The Highnesses said it's a pleasure to meet you. But be respectful."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Got it."
Noah leaned close and whispered, "Don't get cocky."
The guards returned to their posts. Noah nodded slightly at Mira. "Let's go."
Lyra was already stepping ahead.
They passed beneath the massive gates and into the towering halls of the royal castle. Cool air wrapped around them. Their footsteps echoed against stone, sounding small beneath the vast ceiling.
Behind them, the left guard glanced once more at Mira, who had paused at the entrance for just a second.
"You must be the Prince's friend," he said.
Mira turned back and gave a small nod, her face calm.
"Then you're lucky," the guard added.
She hesitated at his words… then quietly walked inside.
She hesitated at his words… then quietly walked inside the gate.
'Lucky…?'
If only you knew, she thought.
'Lucky to meet him again… or lucky to lose him once more?'
Her fingers curled slightly at her side.
'What does that even mean…?'
For a moment, she thought of Nathan again.
His quiet eyes. His silence.
The way everything around him always felt heavier than it should.
"…Lucky," she whispered to herself under her breath, unsure if she believed it.
Then she shook the thought away and continue walking.
Noah and Lyra waited near the tall royal doors. Moments later, a knight stepped forward and pushed them open with a respectful bow.
Their meeting awaited them inside.
.
.
.
As the tall doors closed by the knight behind them, the castle opened wide before their eyes.
Bright light from high windows washed over white stone walls. Long black and gold banners hung from the ceiling. The polished floor reflected their footsteps as they walked deeper inside. Everything felt too clean, too grand.
Noah swallowed. "This place is… huge."
Lyra looked around with wide eyes. "So this is where a prince lives every day?" She let out a low whistle. "Must be nice."
A messenger walked ahead of them at a steady pace. His voice was calm and respectful as he spoke over his shoulder.
"If you don't mind me asking… why have you come to see the Highnesses today?"
"If you don't mind me asking… why have you come to see the Highnesses today?" the messenger knight asked politely.
Noah didn't answer right away.
His eyes drifted around the hall instead… up at the tall pillars, the shining floors, the gold designs on the walls. For a second, he completely forgot where he was.
Lyra noticed and leaned closer to Mira, whispering a little too clearly, "He's overwhelmed."
Mira gave a small smile. "First time inside a palace will do that."
Lyra chuckled. "I swear, he looks like he's about to ask if he can touch the walls."
Noah suddenly blinked, snapping back to reality. "Uh… oh. Sorry," he said quickly, embarrassed. He straightened up and nodded once. "We came to talk to Prince Nathan. It's something important. About the duel… and something else too."
The messenger returned his calm smile and nodded. "I see. Then I'm sure the Highness will decide what to do."
As they continued walking, Noah and Lyra kept glancing at everything—the tall pillars, the long halls, the quiet servants passing by with lowered heads. It was clear this was their first time inside a place like this.
Mira followed a few steps behind them, quiet as always. But unlike them, her eyes moved with familiarity. She looked at the royal walls… the chandeliers… the turns of each hall.
Then she smiled softly.
This place hadn't changed much.
Lyra suddenly slowed her steps and looked back. "Hey," she said. "Why are you smiling?"
Mira blinked and quickly shook her head. "Oh… nothing. I just… like the place."
Lyra raised an eyebrow, clearly not fully convinced, but she let it go.
Inside, guilt stirred quietly in Mira's chest.
Because this wasn't just a place she liked.
She had already known it since she was a child.
They turned one last corner, and just as the wide doors of the main hall came into view, a small wooden door on the side suddenly opened.
An older man stepped out.
He had gray hair, gentle eyes, and wore simple servant robes. His back was slightly bent with age—but his presence felt warm and steady.
"Ah," he said with a soft smile. "Guests?"
The messenger knight brightened. "Sir Fred," he greeted politely. "Yes. They're here to meet the Highnesses."
Fred chuckled lightly. "Well, that means they must be important, hm?"
The knight was about to introduce him, but Fred lifted one hand gently. "That's alright. I'll handle it."
He turned to Noah and Lyra with a kind smile. "My name is Fred. I serve this castle."
Noah bowed quickly. "I'm Noah. This is Lyra. And she's Mira."
Lyra waved casually. "Nice to meet you."
Fred's eyes softened. "So," he asked kindly, "what brings you all to the castle today?"
Noah took a steady breath and began again, speaking clearly this time. "Sir Fred… we came because we need to speak with Prince Nathan about the duel tournament that's happening today in the Arena of Valor."
Fred listened quietly, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn't interrupt, just nodded slowly as Noah continued.
"The registration is happening right now," Noah said, glancing briefly at Lyra to keep her from interrupting. "By this afternoon, the tournament will officially start. All the kingdoms, even the smaller duchies across the Valor continent, will be sending their warriors. Nathan… he needs to know what's happening, and we were asked to confirm a few things directly with him before the matches begin."
Lyra stepped closer to Noah, her voice quiet but curious. "So… the arena is packed already?"
Noah nodded. "Yes. Warriors from all over. It's not just a duel—it's a display of skill, strategy, and… well, the future opportunities it brings for those who win. If Nathan doesn't handle a few things now, it could get messy later. We can't afford delays."
Just then, the messenger knight who had accompanied them through the castle stepped closer, bowing slightly. "I've heard of this tournament," he said politely. "Thousands of people will be watching from all over Valor. It's a big chance for warriors here in Atlon. If they do well, it could affect their future careers—even the 200W tournament in the next seasons. Winning or showing skill here… it really matters."
Noah blinked at him, impressed by the information. "You… you know about it?"
The knight smiled humbly. "Of course, sir. Many are watching closely, even from outside the castle. That's why it's important for the Prince to know what's happening."
Fred's eyes stayed on them, attentive. He didn't speak, only listened, letting their words sink in. Slowly, he gave a slight nod, as if he understood the weight of their mission.
Then, as Noah finished, Fred's gaze drifted past the two of them. His eyes widened for just a fraction of a second.
Mira felt it instantly. She looked up and met his eyes, recognizing him immediately—the warm servant who had brought her food that night, the man who had smiled gently when she had been too scared to sleep in a royal room.
Her chest tightened, and she gave a small, nervous smile.
Fred's lips parted, as if he were about to say her name.
"You…"
Almost, but Mira's hand twitched slightly at her side, and she shook her head just once… subtle and quiet.
'Please don't,' she thought.
Fred paused, then gave her a small, understanding smile.
Lyra, catching the silence, tilted her head. "Uh… did we miss something?"
Mira stepped lightly forward, brushing off the tension. "Hey, guys… don't bother. I'm okay."
Noah studied her for a moment. "You sure?"
Lyra leaned in, a playful grin on her face. "Yeah, you look suspicious now. Something's going on."
Mira exhaled softly. "You're overthinking it."
Lyra laughed, grinning wider. "That's my job."
Mira shot her a quick warning look. "Oops. Remember… be careful with your behavior."
Lyra held up both hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm innocent!"
Fred cleared his throat gently, redirecting their attention. "The Highnesses are just a few steps ahead," he said. "I'll take you there myself."
They followed him through the wide hall. The space seemed enormous, like a stage built for royalty. Tall pillars ran along both sides, polished stone gleaming beneath their feet. The tapestries on the walls depicted the history of Atlon, each one full of battles, victories, and celebrations. Every echo of their footsteps seemed magnified in the vast hall.
As they walked, the messenger knight leaned slightly toward Noah and Lyra. "Just so you know," he said quietly, "the Arena of Valor is packed. Warriors from every corner of the continent are participating. Thousands are watching. It's more than just a duel—it's a chance for recognition, for alliances, and even sponsorships. Your Prince here… he's going to have a lot to handle today."
Noah nodded, absorbing the weight of it. Lyra's eyes sparkled with excitement, though she tried to hide it behind a small grin. "Wow… that's a lot of people. No wonder Nathan's busy."
Fred's gaze remained calm, observing both of them carefully. He seemed to measure the urgency in their faces but stayed silent, letting them feel the seriousness of the moment without pressure.
At the far end of the hall, beneath a long royal banner, two great thrones waited. Seated upon them were King Nalon and Queen Rhea, their eyes calm but sharp, watching the newcomers with measured curiosity.
Noah's breath caught. Lyra straightened at once, her usual energy tempered by the majesty of the throne room.
Noah leaned close to her, whispering carefully. "Remember what the guard said. Be respectful."
Lyra's eyes flicked toward the thrones, then back at Noah. She nodded quietly. "Yeah… I know."
The hall seemed to hold its breath as they approached. The meeting was about to begin.
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