"NO! Absolutely no way! Arthur! Do you know how dangerous it is to
become an adventurer? You've just returned, after we all thought you were
dead, and now you're saying you want to go get yourself killed out there? No
way! Absolutely not."
My mother was on the verge of tears—she had never been good at controlling
her emotions. Eleanor was beside her, clutching at her leg.
"Mama, don't be angry. Brother's not bad! Mama, don't cry."
Director Goodsky had left the manor after my announcement. I could tell she
still had a lot of questions she wanted to ask, but we excused ourselves to
have a family talk. We were in my parent's room, with my mother pacing
back and forth in front of me, forbidding me to even think about doing
anything remotely dangerous.
Father was a bit more rational. I could tell he didn't like the idea either, but
he couldn't really see any reason for me not to be an adventurer, other than
my age.
I wasn't going to debate with my mother. She was saying these things
because she was worried, and I could never blame her for that—it was what I
had expected. I had wanted to slowly ease her into the idea, but the meeting
with Director Goodsky had thrown off the timing of everything.
My father finally broke his silence and spoke up.
"Honey, let's hear Arthur
out, at least. I'm not saying I agree with him becoming an adventurer, butdon't you think we should at least listen to what he has to say?"
"How can you still say that, after what happened that day?" my mother
yelled, breaking down into a fit of sobs.
I looked to my father for answers, unable to think of the appropriate words,
but he simply shook his head as he pressed my mother's head against his
chest.
It seemed like a good hour before she had calmed down enough to speak
again.
I grabbed my mother's hands. "Mom, I wasn't planning on leaving
tomorrow. I'm looking forward to spending a few months here at home with
you all."
She was still silent, but her face softened a little. I just gave her a warm smile,
and Sylvie followed suit and began licking her hand.
"What I meant by becoming an adventurer was that it would be a good way
for me to get some experience. Being in the elf kingdom for three years, I've
missed the opportunity to learn many little lessons, the things an eight-year-
old should know about this world of ours. I just thought that becoming an
adventurer would be the best way to gain some practical experience," I urged,
not letting go of Mother's hands.
"I understand where you're coming from, Arthur.
Although I was a bit older,
I was also itching to get some real-life experience in fighting as soon as I
awakened as a mage," my father reminisced. "But your mother is also right in
that it is dangerous, and unpredictable."
My mother nodded her head vigorously at this.
I stayed silent for a little bit while I pondered. Then I said, "Dad. Mom. What
if I were to have some sort of guard or supervisor with me? Would that make
you feel more at ease with the idea?"
"Hmm… You know, that's not a bad idea." I could almost see the gears in
my father's head turning as he began
thinking of potential candidates.
"But I still wouldn't be able to see you for three years," my mother began to protest.
Shaking my head, I said, "Mom, I'm not going to go on long trips or
dangerous missions to faraway places. I'll try to come back every few
months, maybe even more frequently than that, depending on what I do."
"Brother, are you leaving?" My sister's expression was utterly crest fallen.
I started to panic. "No, not now, Ellie—I'm staying here for a long time.
You'll be sick of me by the time I have to go."
Both my mother and father had told Eleanor stories about me and how strong
and smart I was. One of Ellie's favorite bedtime stories was how I saved
Mother from a bunch of bad guys on top of a cliff and that I got hurt, so it
would take me some time to come back home. Eventually, I had become a
hero figure to my sister.
I looked back at my mother. Her face was considerably more at ease after
talking about this. Perhaps she had just jumped to the worst-case scenario and
had envisioned me setting off alone to face unspeakable dangers.
"Why do you want to be an adventurer before going to school anyways? Isn't
it usually the opposite?" my mother asked softly.
"Dad's reason was a part of it; I want to test my skills out in real-life
situations. Also, Mom, I want to at least try to fit in with everyone when I go
to school. It would be a lot harder to fit in if I start school when I'm only
eight. I don't think I'll be able to make many friends with such a big age
difference."
It was a pitiful excuse, but, for once, my mother's look was one of
understanding. I guess having her child become a friendless loner is every
mother's worst nightmare. And it wasn't really a lie, either, because I said it
thinking of Sylvia's dying wish. She had wanted me to enjoy myself and
have a life—not spend all my time just training. That was a promise I planned
to keep, no matter what.
"Besides," I continued, "I'm going to be here for a couple of months anyway.
Who knows, maybe you'll get sick of me by then and throw me out before Ieven get the chance to leave." I winked at my mother.
That earned me a thump on the head, but she chuckled as well. "You! You're
just like your father at times. Thank God you at least have my intelligence."
She gave me a big hug, and I was filled with a warm feeling that I wasn't
used to.
"Hey! What about my intelligence? He was gifted with my adept abilities in
fire, too," my father protested.
"Hmph! My son got his deviant powers from me." Mother turned me away
from my father and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Ellie too! Bleh!" My sister copied my mother, sticking her tongue out at my
beleaguered father.
"No one is ever on my side," he cried playfully, trying to hug Ellie as we all
laughed.
The next day was a rest day, meaning my father had the day off. The Leywin
and Helstea families were dining together for breakfast. "Did you decide
what to do about Arthur?" Vincent asked around his mouthful of omelet.
Tabitha shook her head. "I swear. I have such a hard time believing you're a
noble sometimes, dear, with your horrible dining habits."
"Don't worry," my mother sighed. "At least your husband's better than mine.
Remember that dinner party when Rey laughed so hard he spat his food
across the table? I had to use Ellie as an excuse to leave the table because I
was so embarrassed."
"Anyway!" My father blushed slightly and tried to change the topic. "Yes,
Vince. After talking about it last night, we have agreed to let him become an
adventurer—under some conditions."
"Oh? What conditions?" Tabitha asked curiously,
cutting Lilia's omelet into
smaller pieces.
"He's not going to become an adventurer until after his birthday, which is in
three months. He's also going to have a guard with him on his missions.
Aside from that, I think he'll be smart enough to manage on his own. And the last condition, of course, is that he'll be visiting as often as possible," my
father finished, working on the rest of his roast beef.
"Do you have anyone in mind for his guard? Is there even a guard who's
capable of the job? I feel like Arthur would be the one protecting the guard."
Vince chuckled at the ridiculous idea of an eight-year-old protecting a grown,
veteran adventurer.
My mother answered him, looking at my father. "Rey and I thought we could
use one of the Helstea Auction House guards, but we haven't come up with
anyone who meets the criteria yet."
"Can I have more omelet please?" my sister chimed in, her fork raised in the
air.
"I got it!" My father's sudden revelation made him jump up, and I almost
choked on my mouthful of meat.
"The Twin Horns will be coming back from a dungeon expedition. I received
a letter from the Adventurers Guild Hall that says they should be back in
about two months. It's perfect! Why did it take me so long to think of that?
We can just have one of the Twin Horns look after you, Arthur. You still
remember them, right?" My father's eyes were shining with excitement.
"That's not a bad idea," my mother said, her voice implying the rarity of my
father having a good idea.
I fed a morsel of meat to Sylvie, who was perched on my lap with her two
front paws on the table. "Of course I remember them," I said. "That sounds
like a great idea, Dad. Do they know I'm back?"
"No—unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to send a message to them yet.
I was planning to do that today." My father sat back down, scratching his
head, then went back to his roast beef.
Having finished off his breakfast, Vincent joined in the conversation.
"Arthur, you mentioned something to Director Cynthia yesterday about not
showing your powers to anyone until you enroll into Xyrus Academy. How
do you plan to manage that while you're an adventurer?""Ah, yes.
I've been meaning to get to that," I said, spearing a strawberry with
my fork. "I planned on keeping my identity hidden. I've read that many
members of the Adventurers Guild go by aliases, not revealing their identities
to the public." Unfortunately, there was no way to mask Sylvie's appearance,
so I would just have to do a good job of hiding her. Thankfully, she was
small enough to fit inside a cloak, if the pocket was big enough.
Vincent turned to my father. "That reminds me of Lawrence. Rey, do
remember him?"
My father succumbed to a fit of strained laughter, nearly choking on his
mouthful of food. Finally, he managed to swallow it. "You mean that oaf
who got beaten with a ladle by his wife in the middle of the escort mission,
after she found out that he was taking advantage of his hidden identity to fool
around with other women? Man, the whole town got a good laugh out of
that."
"Good times," Vincent sighed, still chuckling nostalgically.
I snickered as well, imagining the comedic scene, while Tabitha and my
mother berated their husbands and warned me not to be as foolish as
Lawrence.
After breakfast, Father went to the Guild Hall to send a message to his old
party members, and my mother and Tabitha went shopping, taking Ellie and
Lilia along with them. They asked me to come as well, but I politely declined
their offer to endure the suffering they considered a pastime.
I washed up and headed toward the right wing of the manor, where Vincent's
office was, and knocked on his door.
"Yes?"
"It's Arthur," I said.
The door opened to reveal Vincent with a curious lookon his face. "Ah,
come in! What brings you to my office, Arthur?"
"Ah yes," I said, looking around at the piles of documents on the floor and on
his desk. "There is a certain matter I wish to talk to you about today, which iswhy I visited."
VINCENT HELSTEA
Is this child really only eight years old?
Shivers ran down my spine at his tone of voice. Why was I so nervous at the
mention of a 'certain matter' he wanted to discuss?
"What is it?" I asked, my face turning a bit more serious.
"I would like your help in obtaining a few items that might be hard to find
elsewhere." He sat down and continued, looking straight at me. "I need a
sturdy, hooded cloak or robe and a mask that can cover my entire face. It's
imperative that the mask has the added function of changing my voice."
It wasn't hard to figure out why he wanted these items. And as owner of the
Helstea Auction House, which attracted the highest of nobles and even the
royal family, it wouldn't be too hard for me to obtain them.
The mask might
be a little tricky because a sound elemental artificer would need to make it,
but it could be done.
But why was there such a heavy feeling in this room?
I couldn't quite place my finger on it…
That's it!
Why did this eight-year-old child have the type of aura I had only ever felt in
the presence of the King of Sapin himself?
No, that wasn't right—the atmosphere in this room was even heavier than
what I had experienced when I was with the king.
He was clearly asking me for a favor. But it felt like he was gauging me,
almost as if he were trying to evaluate whether to put me on his list of
'people to keep alive.'
I hadn't felt this from him before—perhaps because I had only ever seen him
in the company of his family.
I quickly replied, wanting to get it over with. "It shouldn't be a problem
getting those things. The mask might take a bit of time, but I'm sure we'll have it before you become an adventurer."
His slight nod filled me with relief. I had nobles waiting in line to introduce
themselves to me, but this child…
"And what would you require in exchange? I wouldn't like to just ask for this
without offering any compensation," he responded.
I felt a little sweat forming above my brows. "It's fine, really. I owe your
father a lot. He may be working for me, but the way he trains my guards has
really reduced the number of problems during the auctions."
This was the truth. Rey had become an irreplaceable part of the Helstea
Auction Houses. His leadership, charisma, and rapport with the guards he
trained was first class. I had owed him for saving my life, and I felt I still
owed him—and his family. Even with his generous salary—which was well
above the average—and letting his family stay in our house, I still felt I was
getting a bargain. Tabitha and Lilia had been happier than ever after Rey and
Alice moved in and had Ellie. I'd always felt guilty about not being able to
spend as much time with my family as they wanted, but things were a lot
better now.
"Speaking of training," he muttered, looking down, "that gives me an idea."
When Arthur started thinking, he got a certain look. His gaze went unfocused
and his brows furrowed; the subtle crease near his lips and the slight twitch of
his nose gave the appearance that he was thinking of something beyond what
normal human intelligence would be capable of. It was the look of a true intellectual.
It was hard to believe he was the same age as my little Lilia.
"Allow me to start training your daughter to become a mage." He dropped
this landmine as if he was just talking about the weather.
ARTHUR
"I intend to start giving my baby sister lessons in mana manipulation soon. It
wouldn't be too much trouble to include Lilia in this training. I notice that
neither you nor Lady Tabitha are mages, so it might be impossible for her to awaken by herself, but if we start now, I think she'll be able to awaken at the
average age," I said.
My statement was met with silence. I looked up to see that Vincent had
dropped the stack of papers he had been fumbling with. His face was frozen
and I could hear his heart beating faster.
"Did I hear you right? Can you really train my daughter to become a m-
mage?" he asked after a long moment of silence.
"Of course. It'll be a long process, but it's definitely possible. Not certain," I
said honestly, "but possible. I will have to ask you to keep a low profile on
the lessons, though. I would hate to be bombarded with doting parents asking
me to make their children into mages." I chuckled, trying to lighten the
tension.
He nodded furiously, but failed to form a coherent sentence. "Sincerely," he
finally managed to stammer, "there would be no greater happiness for me
than seeing my daughter become a mage." His eyes were brimming with
tears, on the verge of falling.
"Great. Then I'll leave the items we discussed to you.
Now, if you'll excuse
me, I'll see myself out. My apologies for intruding on your work."
Picking up the sleeping Sylvie from my lap, I let myself out of the room.
That worked out well.