In the shimmering capital of Kormelia, Eren, where sorcery breathed life into technology, Curtis's family settled in their opulent manor—a testament to their prosperity.
The week that followed the sorting exam was one of silent anticipation in the household. As the sole heir of two imprtant figures' legacy, his future had become a matter of public conjecture. All eyes were on him, the prodigious child whose result was not merely a personal milestone, but a ripple in the tapestry of high society.
During that week of keen expectation, his parents sought to ground his extraordinary gifts with experiences befitting a boy of both remarkable heritage and ethereal talent.
Duchess Angelica, understanding the importance of balance in their son's life, led him through the mosaic streets of Eren, their steps echoing on stones steeped in the city's magical aura. As they walked, she spoke of the dance between duty and freedom, illustrating her lessons with tales of the city's history where great mages had once walked.
"Every spell, every brick in Eren tells a story, Curtis," she would whisper, gesturing to the floating lanterns which lined the boulevard, their glow powered by both the arcane and the electric. "Your story will be among them, a tapestry of both your inherited wisdom and the new paths you'll forge."
Curtis was very attentive. he didn't have a mother in his previous life and he could feel her affection radiating.
They went to a garden at the center of the city. It seems it was reserved for their outing. Only a step into that sanctuary and they were enveloped by the heady scent of roses and the whisper of ancestral trees. The sight was breathtaking. Curtis felt like he died again and appeared in a majestic floral haven.
"You are like these roses, Curtis," his mother said, carefully lifting a bloom for his curious eyes. "Nurtured with care and standing beautiful for the world to see. But remember, my child, each petal is fortified in its own right—just as you must be strong, smart, and kind."
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Oswald May, a titan in the world of business, saw this week as an opportunity to connect with his son on a level beyond the future responsibilities Curtis would bear. His empire thrived on the fusion of magic and machine, and he was well aware of the extraordinary potential his son possessed. After the evening meals, which were grand affairs meant to instill an understanding of their social standing, Oswald took Curtis to a workshop st up in the mansion .
In his sprawling workshop filled with both enchanted objects and cutting-edge devices, he showed Curtis the beauty of their interconnectedness. If magic was the lifeblood of Eren, then technology was its beating heart, and Arthur strived to ensure his son understood how to harmonize them.
In a softly lit corner, amidst this symphony of innovation, father and son would work on a miniature model of Eren. It was an intricate display where charm-infused gears meshed seamlessly with tiny copper conduits. "Precision and creativity, son," Arthur intoned, "are the twin pillars upon which our future rests."
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On the eve of the results, the May family held a private gathering. Esteemed relatives and close allies were invited to dinner, a tradition the family held, aimed to reassure the young heir of his support system, regardless of any outcome. Laughter and tales of ancestral achievements mixed with the clinking of fine china and silver, wrapping Curtis in a tapestry of familial expectation and encouragement.
That night, in his chamber warded by spells of peace and comfort, Curtis lay awake. He wasn't nervous about his results. He was convinced that even if he was not first, he would be admitted to the Elite class. The blend of anticipation and the warmth of his parents' affection gave him a new understanding of his new life.
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With the morning sun cresting over the horizon, the family convened in the breakfast room, the air tight with anticipation for the delivery of the results.
The household staff moved with a quiet efficiency, setting the table with an array of morning delicacies, each movement a well-rehearsed dance of silverware and porcelain that hardly disturbed the tense silence hanging over the room. Curtis's mother wore a calm smile that carried a mother's confidence in her son, while his father held a newspaper but hadn't turned a page for some time, his attention instead on the clock ticking sonorously against the wall.
Curtis, dressed neatly, his hair combed to perfection, could feel the palpable expectations in the room. Yet, within him, there was a well of tranquility. He had done all he could, and now it was time to face whatever the results may bring.
The door to the breakfast room eventually opened, not with a flurry but with the dignified grace befitting the servant who entered—a man of middle years whose countenance rarely betrayed emotion but who now wore a slight, knowing smile. He held an envelope—the bearer of news, sealed with the crest of the Academy.
Curtis stood up, his eyes fixed on the envelope as his father gestured for it to be brought to them. The servant crossed the room in measured steps and presented the envelope to Curtis with a bow. All formalities observed, even in private, were part of the fabric of their lives—a reflection of their status and the traditions they upheld.
The seal was broken with a quiet care that amplified the sound in the room, and Curtis slid out the card containing the results. The script was elegant, each letter inscribed with a precision that spoke of the institution's reputation for excellence.
Curtis read silently, and then a smile, small but undeniable, formed on his lips. He looked up to meet his parents' expectant gazes. "I've been admitted to the Elite class," he announced, each word lifting a weight from their shoulders.
Relief and pride washed over his parents' faces, and the room burst into a joyful noise. Duchess Angelica reached out to embrace her son, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Oswald May, whose poise was always unflappable, allowed himself a rare chuckle as he clapped Curtis on the back with a vigor reserved for moments of true emotion.
As Curtis was enveloped by his parents' love,he was touched by the genuine care it had never known in a past life. Today was not just about joining the ranks of the Elite but also a silent acknowledgment of a new chapter in Curtis's life—a journey of fulfillment and promise in the dazzling realm of Kormelia.
And beyond the walls of their manor, Eren began to stir, the city awakening as the magic and machinery mingled in the dawn light, ready to welcome its newest luminary.