The Ardentia region was alive with the hum of summer. Outside, the golden fields stretched endlessly under a clear blue sky, painting a picturesque scene worthy of a bard's ode. Farmers dotted the landscape like ants, bustling about with tools and magic in hand as they planted rows of Sunspire Grain. This wasn't just any crop—it was the crop. With stalks shimmering like liquid gold and heads that seemed to sparkle as if kissed by sunlight, the Sunspire Grain thrived in these conditions, soaking up sunlight and ambient mana like a sponge. The seeds were packed with enough nutrients to satisfy even the hungriest knight and so rich in mana that they practically hummed. These weren't just breakfast ingredients; they were the foundation of enchanted pastries, mana-infused bread, and those mysterious "energy bars" that merchants sold at outrageous prices.
The farmers, though drenched in sweat, looked content as they worked. "Another season, another field," one farmer said with a chuckle, tossing a seed into the furrowed earth with a practiced hand. "Hope the university kids save us from buying overpriced loaves again!" A chorus of laughter followed, the kind that only comes from a mix of camaraderie and summer optimism.
Meanwhile, outside the Laurent house, the atmosphere wasn't quite so serene. The scene in the front yard was a whirlwind of emotions and chaos. Standing near the polished maroon carriage were two sets of parents—Kaelen and Lirien on one side, Selaria and Eryndor on the other—all staring at the young duo, Souta and Elena, who stood by with their small bags of belongings. The carriage itself was a work of art, with its smooth maroon exterior gleaming under the sun, doors on either side bearing delicate carvings of mystical symbols. The two black horses at the front looked majestic and proud, their jet-black coats shining as if they'd just walked out of a painter's masterpiece.
The driver, however, was the polar opposite of majestic. A stout man with a salt-and-pepper beard, he muttered complaints under his breath as he hoisted bag after bag onto the top of the carriage. "Why do kids need so much stuff for school? Do they think we're packing for an epic quest?" he grumbled, pausing only to give the horses a consoling pat. "Don't worry, lads, we'll survive this madness somehow."
Kaelen was the first to break the silence, clapping his hands together in an attempt to inject some cheer into the moment. "Well, kids, today's the big day! You're finally heading to Solstara Magic University! All those years of hard work, and here we are!" He grinned like a proud father at a graduation, though his eyes already looked suspiciously glossy.
Souta nodded solemnly, trying to mimic the stoic demeanor of an adult, though his stomach churned with nervous excitement. He glanced at his mother, Lirien, who was already losing her battle with tears. Her warm smile wavered as she pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Souta," she said softly, her voice tinged with a mix of pride and worry. "You be careful, okay? Your father and I won't be there to watch over you. It'll just be you, Elena, and Grandpa. Look out for each other."
Souta felt a lump rise in his throat but forced a smile. "I will, Mom. Don't worry about me." As her arms tightened around him, he couldn't help but think back to his first day of school on Earth. This feels exactly the same, he mused internally. Crying parents, emotional speeches, and me trying not to bawl like a baby. At least there's no awkward school bus this time—just a fancy carriage.
Lirien finally released him, stepping back to her place beside Kaelen, who—well, there was no delicate way to put it—had completely lost it. Sniffling loudly, he dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief that looked suspiciously like it had been borrowed from his wife.
Souta raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Dad, you're crying already? Who's the kid here, again?"
Kaelen let out a choked laugh, pulling Souta into a bear hug that nearly crushed the air out of him. "Be a good boy, okay? No trouble. Grandpa's strict, so make sure you listen to him!"
Rolling his eyes, Souta gave his father a small pat on the back, the gesture oddly parental. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. You try not to cry too much, okay?"
Kaelen chuckled again, stepping back to Lirien, who looked like she might burst into tears all over again at any second.
Meanwhile, things were even more dramatic on the other side of the yard. Selaria and Eryndor, typically the epitome of composure, had turned into full-on blubbering messes. Eryndor, a man whose glare alone could send seasoned warriors running for cover, was now sobbing like a heartbroken bard at the end of a tragic ballad. Selaria, her usually serene face streaked with tears, clung to Elena as if letting go would physically hurt her.
"Oh, my sweet baby!" Selaria wailed, running her fingers through Elena's hair as if memorizing every strand. "We'll miss you so much! Write to us every day, okay? Every. Single. Day."
"Yes, every day!" Eryndor chimed in, his deep, baritone voice cracking like a teapot left on too long.
Squished between them, Elena gave a shaky nod, her voice muffled. "Mom, Dad, I'll write, I promise! You can even visit me, you know!"
Souta watched the overly theatrical display with a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment. "Thank the gods my parents aren't like—" He glanced at Kaelen and Lirien just in time to see them both dissolve into tears. Kaelen was now using Lirien's handkerchief, and Lirien had given up entirely, burying her face in his shoulder. "Never mind," Souta muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The driver, who had finally finished loading the bags, glanced at the emotional chaos unfolding before him and muttered to the horses, "Think we should charge extra for dealing with the waterworks? No? Yeah, me neither."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of tears, hugs, and enough sobbing to irrigate the Sunspire fields, the driver cleared his throat loudly. "Carriage is ready," he announced, giving the group a pointed look that screamed, You've had your drama, now let me do my job.
Souta and Elena exchanged one last look with their parents before climbing aboard the maroon carriage. The polished wood creaked slightly under their weight, and the plush red seats welcomed them like a warm hug. They peered out of the small side window, their noses pressed against the glass.
"We'll write letters to you!" Souta shouted, waving with one hand while steadying Elena, who was leaning dangerously far out the window.
"And we'll write back!" their parents yelled in unison, waving with the enthusiasm of people auditioning for a waving competition. Kaelen added, "Don't forget to eat well! And sleep early!" while Lirien followed up with, "And wash behind your ears, Souta! You always forget!"
Souta groaned, sinking into his seat. "They're acting like I've been drafted into the army. It's just university."
Elena sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her nose was red, and her lips trembled. "But I've never been away from home before. What if it's scary?"
Souta leaned back, crossing his arms with the exaggerated air of a seasoned adventurer. "Scary? Nah. This isn't scary. This is exciting. We're about to start a new chapter. Meet new people. Learn new things. Maybe we'll even become legends!"
"Legends?" Elena raised an eyebrow, her sniffles subsiding as she gave him a skeptical look. "That's a bit much, don't you think?"
Souta shrugged, smirking. "Hey, dream big or go home. Wait, no—don't go home. That defeats the purpose."
The carriage jolted as it started moving, the horses' hooves clopping rhythmically against the cobblestone road. They passed by the Sunspire Grain fields, where farmers straightened up from their work to wave at the departing children.
Elena, her earlier tears forgotten, leaned out the window again, waving enthusiastically. "They're so nice! It feels like we're royalty or something."
Souta puffed out his chest, attempting to look regal. "Of course we are. We're the chosen ones! The kids destined to save them all from poverty."
Elena's eyes widened, and she gasped dramatically. "Really? That's incredible! Great Sage Souta, you've been holding out on me!"
Souta grinned, his ego swelling to dangerous proportions. "Well, someone's got to step up."
Elena clasped her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. "Oh, wise and mighty Souta, teach me your ways so that I, too, may save the world."
They both burst out laughing, clutching their sides as their giggles echoed inside the carriage. The driver gave a bemused glance over his shoulder but wisely chose not to comment.
As the laughter subsided, the two settled into a more comfortable silence. Souta stared out the window, his thoughts racing. Two years of training, he mused aloud. Swordsmanship, magic, healing... even socializing. And now, it's finally happening. We're on our way to Solstara Magic University. The capital! Everything starts now.
"Do you think we'll make new friends?" Elena asked, breaking the silence.
"Definitely," Souta said with confidence. Then he grinned mischievously. "Rich friends. Friends who'll treat us to all the food we can eat."
Elena's eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands together again. "Oh, I hope one of them owns a bakery. Or better—a candy shop!"
"A bakery and a candy shop," Souta corrected, nodding sagely. "Let's aim high."
Their laughter resumed, but it was soon interrupted by Elena leaning forward to ask the driver, "Excuse me, how long will the trip take?"
The driver, a burly man with a thick mustache that looked like it had a life of its own, turned slightly. "About five hours, young miss. We're taking the long route."
"Why the long route?" Souta asked, already feeling the beginnings of carriage-induced boredom.
"Short route's closed," the driver replied nonchalantly. "Too many monsters showing up lately."
Elena and Souta froze. "M-Monsters?" Elena stammered, clutching Souta's arm like it was a lifeline.
The driver nodded. "Big ones. Sharp teeth. Lots of legs. Real nasty fellas."
Souta swallowed hard. "How... how big are we talking?"
The driver rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Big enough to eat this carriage in one bite, probably."
Elena let out a small squeak, and Souta paled. "And you're telling us this now? Shouldn't someone be—oh, I don't know—doing something about it?"
The driver shrugged. "Eh, the knights are busy. Something about a royal banquet or whatnot. Priorities, you know."
Elena and Souta exchanged horrified looks, their earlier excitement now replaced with dread. They leaned back in their seats, eyes darting nervously to every shadow that flickered past the windows.
After a long silence, Souta finally spoke, his voice shaky. "It's fine. We'll be fine. Probably just rumors, right?"
"Right," Elena agreed quickly, nodding like her life depended on it. "No big deal. We're brave."
Despite their brave words, Souta and Elena flinched at every rustle of leaves, every chirp of a bird, and even the occasional sound of the carriage wheels hitting a particularly large rock. At one point, a squirrel darted across the road, and both of them practically jumped out of their seats.
"It's just a squirrel," the driver muttered, not even bothering to glance back.
"Sure," Souta whispered, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the retreating animal. "That's what they want us to think. Next thing you know, it's a shape-shifting monster."
Elena gave him a wide-eyed look. "Do you think that's possible?"
"Absolutely," Souta replied, though the slight tremble in his voice betrayed his own nerves. "I read it in a book somewhere. Monsters that look cute but can devour you whole in seconds."
Elena whimpered and clutched the edge of her seat. "Why would you tell me that?!"
"Well, you asked!" Souta defended, though he quickly added, "But don't worry. I'll protect you."
"With what? Your sharp wit and overactive imagination?" Elena shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Souta puffed out his chest, trying to look heroic. "Exactly. A sharp tongue is mightier than the sword, or whatever the saying is."
Elena opened her mouth to retort but stopped when the carriage jolted. They both grabbed the sides of the window for balance, their hearts racing.
"Relax," the driver grumbled. "Just a pothole."
"Oh, of course," Souta said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. "A pothole. That's exactly what a monster pretending to be the ground would want us to think."
Elena groaned, leaning back and covering her face with her hands. "I can't believe I'm stuck in this carriage with you."
"Hey, if you wanted the quiet, boring option, you could've stayed home," Souta teased, smirking.
"Tempting," Elena muttered, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.
Eventually, they gave up on their paranoia, settling into an uneasy truce with the potentially monster-filled wilderness outside. Instead, they turned their attention to the rolling landscapes. The golden fields shimmered under the afternoon sun, distant hills rose like sleeping giants on the horizon, and sparkling rivers twisted and turned like ribbons of light.
Elena sighed, finally relaxing enough to let a genuine smile creep onto her face. "You know," she said, glancing at Souta, "this trip might not be so bad after all."
Souta leaned back, throwing his arms behind his head in exaggerated confidence. "See? Told you. We've got this. A few monsters, a long road, some bumps along the way—nothing we can't handle."
"We?" Elena raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are you handling here? The heavy lifting? The monster-slaying? Or just the backseat commentary?"
"Commentary is crucial," Souta said, pointing a finger in the air like a professor delivering a lecture. "Every good hero needs a strategist. Someone who can provide moral support and yell, 'Run!' at the right moment."
Elena crossed her arms, unimpressed. "So, you're saying you're good at running away?"
"No, no," Souta corrected, puffing out his chest like a rooster. "I'm a strategic retreat specialist. There's an art to knowing when to fight and when to make a dramatic exit."
Elena couldn't help but roll her eyes, though her lips twitched with amusement. "Right. Because nothing screams 'hero' like a guy who knows how to scream and run."
"Exactly!" Souta grinned. "I'm a pioneer in monster avoidance tactics. People will write songs about me. 'The Ballad of Souta the Swift.'"
Elena finally broke into laughter, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"I prefer 'irresistible,' but I'll take 'impossible,'" Souta replied with a cheeky grin.
Their laughter filled the carriage, easing the tension from earlier. For a moment, they forgot about the monsters, the long road ahead, and the fact that they were leaving everything they knew behind.
But then a low growl echoed from somewhere in the forest. Both of them froze, their heads snapping toward the window. Elena's hand shot out, grabbing Souta's arm in a vice-like grip. "Did you hear that?"
"...Nope," Souta said, his voice an octave higher than usual. "Didn't hear a thing."
The growl came again, this time closer. Elena's eyes went wide. "What do we do?"
Souta swallowed hard, his brain scrambling for ideas. "Okay, okay, uh... maybe it's just the wind."
"Wind doesn't growl, Souta!"
"Fine! Maybe it's a very angry squirrel. Remember what I said about shape-shifters?"
Elena glared at him. "This is not the time to be right!"
The driver sighed loudly and turned around. "It's a wolf. Calm down, kids. They usually don't attack carriages."
"Usually?!" Souta and Elena shouted in unison.
The driver rolled his eyes and faced forward again. "If it makes you feel better, I've got a sword under the seat."
Souta perked up. "You're a swordsman?"
"Nope," the driver said nonchalantly. "But it looks impressive when I wave it around."
Elena groaned, slumping back into her seat. "We're doomed."
Souta tried to muster his confidence again, though his voice wobbled slightly. "It's fine. We'll be fine. I mean, what's one wolf against a mighty strategist and a future bakery heiress?"
"Add that to the list of things that won't be in your ballad," Elena muttered, though she couldn't help but smile as their laughter slowly returned.
As the carriage continued down the bumpy road, the tension eased once more. The growl faded into the distance, leaving the two friends to their banter and daydreams. After all, the journey had only just begun.