The moon casts a soft, silver glow over the silent streets. Jareen, weary from a long day's work, pushes open the door and steps into the house. The comforting scent of home greets her, and she is met by the sight of Rosh and Clara standing together, both of them smiling warmly.
"What's going on? You two seem particularly happy today," Jareen says, a smile spreading across her tired face.
"Mom, come this way," Clara says, excitement in her voice as she takes Jareen's hand and leads her toward her room.
"Aunt Jareen, I have something for you." Rosh, cheeks flushed with nervousness, hands her a neatly wrapped package. She opens it to reveal a beautiful white dress.
"Clara picked this out... She said it would look... lovely on you."
"Aww, Rosh!" Clara teases, nudging him.
"Mom, he bought it just for you. And for the record, I didn't say that exactly." She winks and whispers to Jareen.
Jareen, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten, beams at the two of them. She pulls them both into a warm embrace. "Thank you, Rosh. This is so thoughtful."
Before Jareen can say anything more, Clara gently pushes Rosh out of the room. "Mom, why don't you try it on?"
A few moments later, Jareen steps out of her room, now dressed in a flowing white gown. The fabric shimmers softly under the light, highlighting the delicate details of the dress.
"How do I look?" Jareen asks, twirling slightly, her smile as radiant as the dress itself.
"You look amazing, Mom!" Clara exclaims, her eyes bright with admiration.
"…Beautiful," Rosh murmurs, his face turning a deeper shade of red.
As he watches their smiles, a thought crosses Rosh's mind. "I should work harder to never let that smile go away." The warmth of the moment deepens his resolve, fueling his determination.
Clara quickly pulls out her phone. "Let's take some pictures to remember this!"
They spend the next few minutes snapping photos, capturing the joy of the moment.
Afterward, they sit down for a fancy dinner. The table is filled with delicious dishes that Rosh bought and Clara cooked with care. They chat and laugh, Rosh massaging Jareen's tired shoulders as they reflect on the day. The warmth of their bond fills the room, a perfect ending to the evening before they all head to bed, content and happy.
After a beautiful night filled with laughter and warmth, Rosh wakes up the next day with a sense of resolve. It's time to take the next step.
As the sun climbs higher in the sky, Rosh finds himself standing before the gates of the Darkmoon Institute. The center is a vast, sprawling garden, lush and meticulously kept, with five imposing halls dotting the greenery like silent sentinels.
In the heart of this tranquil landscape stands a three-story building, its architecture commanding attention. Above it, a complex magical spell hovers, its intricate patterns glowing with a soft, ethereal light. The spell shimmers faintly, exuding an air of mystery and power that contrasts with the serenity of the surroundings.
Rosh takes a deep breath and enters the building, his steps echoing in the quiet corridors. The reception area is warm and inviting, with soft light filtering through tall windows. Behind the desk sits a beautiful lady with glasses, her smile gentle yet professional.
"Excuse me, I would like to take admission," Rosh says, his voice steady despite the slight tremor of anticipation in his chest.
"Certainly," she replies, her tone calm and reassuring as she hands him a form. "Please fill this out."
Rosh quickly fills in his details and returns the form. The lady glances it over, then hands him a small, sleek entry card.
"Welcome to the Darkmoon Institute," she says, her smile widening just a fraction. "Please follow me."
She leads him down a corridor to a spacious room where a handful of other individuals are waiting. The air buzzes with quiet excitement and tension. Rosh finds a seat, and moments later, an instructor steps onto a small stage at the front of the room.
"Hello, everyone," the instructor begins, his voice carrying easily across the room. "I'm Ralph, one of the instructors here. First of all, welcome to The Darkmoon Institute, where dark mana users train and refine their skills."
Ralph's gaze sweeps over the group, assessing them with a sharp eye. "This is a four-month session. During this time, you'll receive foundational training in mana control, weaponry, and methods to enhance your strength. Our goal is to prepare you to handle F-rank dungeons competently. We provide a variety of training facilities to expedite your progress. But remember, the effort you put in will determine how far you go."
He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing, "Now, follow me. I'll show you the facilities."
Rosh and the others stand, following Ralph as he leads them outside. They cross the garden, the scent of fresh earth and greenery filling the air.
"This is the Weapon Training Hall," Ralph says as they enter a large, open hall. Inside, students are engaged in various exercises, wielding dummy weapons with focused intensity.
"Here, you'll hone your combat skills with a variety of training weapons."
Next, Ralph leads them to another hall. "This is the Magic Training Hall. Mages come here to practice and refine their magical abilities."
They move on to a third hall, where the air seems to hum with energy. "This is the Meditation and Mana Enhancement Hall. Within these walls, you can meditate in mana-rich environments designed to reduce your mana consumption and enhance your control."
Finally, Ralph brings them to the last hall, where the atmosphere is charged with anticipation. "This is the Combat Simulation Hall. Here, you'll face simulated monsters in a controlled environment to test your skills and improve your combat readiness."
Ralph turns to face the group, his expression serious. "These are the main training facilities available to you. There will be three classes each week. Magic training will be held in the morning, followed by swordsmanship in the afternoon. On days without classes, you're encouraged to use the facilities to refine your skills. The more effort you put in, the more you'll get out of this experience."
He pauses, letting his words settle in before finishing, "Classes start tomorrow, but you're welcome to begin training today if you wish. The choice is yours." With that, Ralph nods to them and leaves, leaving the group to absorb the information.
Rosh, eager to start his training, heads to the weaponry training hall. The air inside is thick with the sound of clashing weapons and focused grunts.
He steps in, his eyes scanning the array of weapons laid out before him. Without much thought, he picks up a wooden sword, feeling its weight awkwardly in his hand. He begins to swing, his movements rough and unpolished, a clear sign of his inexperience.
While practicing, another boy, deeply engrossed in his swordsmanship, catches sight of Rosh. For a moment, the boy's world seems to stop. His sword freezes mid-air, his body going rigid as as a wave of dread washes over him.
"A single word escapes his trembling lips, both fearful and awestruck, 'Doomrider…'"