Weeks passed like the whisper of a breeze through an orchard in spring.
Though the estate had quieted from the chaos of the ceremony, the world beyond its marble gates had not. News of Arinay Valenhardt's remarkable dual affinity spread like wildfire through noble courts, merchant caravans, scholarly circles, and even shadowed taverns. Whispers turned into declarations. Some praised him as a miracle child. Others speculated about the actual truth is buried beneath dust and silence. But to Arinay's parents—Caldris and Evelyne—these days were both a calm and a weight.
They watched their son closely in those passing weeks. With each sunrise, they found him still smiling, still laughing, untouched by the burden that his gift could become.
In the estate gardens, Evelyne walked hand in hand with Arinay along rows of blooming wisteria vines, the delicate purple petals fluttering in the breeze. The air was rich with the scent of blossoms and fresh earth. Butterflies danced above them, and the soft cooing of garden doves echoed through the hedges.
"Mother, look!" Arinay giggled, pointing at a squirrel perched confidently on the marble railing. "He's stealing the berries again!"
Evelyne laughed, her violet eyes soft with warmth. "Let him have them. He's just a guest in our garden."
"No, he's a thief!" Arinay whispered conspiratorially, sneaking toward the squirrel with exaggerated slowness. Evelyne watched fondly as her son chased the animal with all the seriousness a five-year-old could muster.
Elsewhere, Caldris does some official paper work of Serenthia in the courtyard, but his eyes always drifted toward the garden—toward the boy who bore the weight of all eight elements and still found joy in chasing squirrels. In the evenings, they played together beneath the starlit veranda. Arinay sat on his father's shoulders, pretending to ride a skybeast, his mother beside them with laughter in her voice and a cup of warm herbal milk in her hand.
And through it all, neither Caldris nor Evelyne mentioned the storm that brewed quietly beyond the estate walls. Not yet.
But Arinay was not a child untouched by awareness.
One cool afternoon, as golden light filtered through his window, he sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes half-lidded, a faint glow surrounding the mana crystal pendant at his chest. In his mind, the voice came again—playful, amused, and laced with a hint of reprimand.
"So… was that little stunt of yours really necessary?" Aetheris drawled, voice echoing like laughter in a canyon. "Shatter every crystal? Seriously? You couldn't just hide your actual power and surprise all the audience like a normal prodigy?"
Arinay opened one eye and smirked. "It was necessary."
"You don't say.", Aetheris replied.
"I knew Father could handle the fallout. He's brilliant at weaving stories. Besides…" Arinay's voice lowered, almost a whisper, "…I needed to attract someone's attention."
"Oh?" Aetheris's tone shifted, curious. "And whose, may I ask?"
Arinay smiled knowingly. "King Zareth. By now, he must've heard everything… and has reached out to my father."
There was a pause. Aetheris went quiet for a moment, then muttered, "...Huh. You really are dangerous for a five-year-old."
As if on cue, a knock echoed at the door.
"Lord Arinay," came the calm voice of Lorien Voss, muffled but clear, "Your father requests your presence in the family hall."
Arinay's eyes lit up. He glanced toward the ceiling and whispered to himself with a grin, "Oh… the stone hit the bird."
He walked to the door, opening it to see Lorien standing there, as composed as ever.
"I'll be there in a minute," Arinay said with his usual innocent tone.
Lorien gave a nod and turned to leave, his cloak swaying softly behind him.
The family hall was cloaked in warm light from the high stained-glass windows. Rich tapestries depicting the Valenhardt lineage lined the walls, and an air of solemnity clung to the room. At the center stood a wide obsidian table, polished to a mirror sheen.
Caldris sat at its head, a sealed letter resting before him. Evelyne stood beside him, her hands folded, her expression unreadable.
When Arinay entered, the atmosphere shifted. His small feet padded softly across the velvet rug, and he looked between his silent parents.
"Come, sit," Caldris said, gesturing to the seat across from him.
Arinay obeyed, his expression calm.
"You remember the promise we made?" his father asked, voice steady.
Arinay nodded. "Yes, Father. I'm to use only Wind and Light in front of others… and never reveal the rest."
"Good." Caldris tapped the letter. "Now, let's come to the matter at hand. This letter… is from King Zareth."
Arinay's eyes widened slightly, his curiosity piqued.
"He heard of the ceremony and was amazed. He's offered me a suggestion—to refine your talents at a premier magical institution."
Caldris paused for a moment before continuing.
"The Luminaris Academy, the finest magical academy in the Second Dimension. It accepts only the most promising mages across dimensions. Here, magic isn't just taught—it's awakened, shaped, tested." His tone softened. "Boys are allowed to join at eleven. Girls, at ten."
Evelyne added, "And the King's own daughter… will begin her studies the same year as you. She is one year younger than you. You'll have someone beside you. Someone to rely on."
Arinay's heart thudded. "I… I would love that." He looked up, eyes glowing with determination and something deeper—hope, maybe. "Yes. I want to go. I want to grow stronger… and understand what I am."
Caldris nodded solemnly. "Then I respect your choice. But remember your promise. You must not reveal your full power—not even there."
"I promise," Arinay said, clutching the pendant at his chest.
"Well, color me surprised." Aetheris's voice rang again as the moment passed. "Luminaris Academy? Hah! Even I've heard tales of that place. They say that all the masters of the eight elemental tower support this academy."
Arinay chuckled quietly.
"But," Aetheris added, "that's still six years away. What're you going to do in the meantime?"
Arinay turned to his father, who was rising from his chair, and cleared his throat.
"Father," he said.
Both Caldris and Evelyne looked at him, sensing the seriousness in his tone.
"I have a request."
Their expressions flickered. Arinay had never asked for anything before—not once, not even a toy or sweet treat. This was new.
Caldris stepped closer. "Ask, my son."
Arinay stood tall as he could and looked directly at them, eyes gleaming.
"Before I turn eleven… I want to learn swordsmanship."
Silence fell.
His parents looked at each other, blinking in surprise.
"Swordsmanship?" Evelyne echoed, puzzled. "But… you're a mage."
"Why swordsmanship?" Caldris asked gently.
Arinay's face flushed, and he looked down sheepishly before raising his gaze again.
"Because…" he said shyly, "…it looks really, really cool."
A moment passed.
And then both his parents laughed—Caldris a deep, booming laugh and Evelyne a softer, melodious one. Caldris knelt before him, ruffling his son's hair.
"How can I say no to that face?" he said with a grin.
Evelyne cupped Arinay's cheeks and kissed his forehead. "Just don't poke anyone's eye out, little knight."
Inside his heart, Arinay winced. I used my baby face… again…
"Ooooh, the cute King of Cosmos strikes again!" Aetheris roared with laughter. "Such manipulative innocence. I'm proud of you!"
Arinay frowned internally. Stop calling me that…
As the sun dipped below the garden walls, painting the sky in hues of lavender and fire, Arinay stood in the courtyard, wooden training sword in hand. His small frame cast a long shadow over the stone tiles.
It was the first step on a long road.
One that led beyond dimensions.
One that would one day shake the stars.
To be continued...