Ren woke up to sunlight spilling through the thin curtains of the small inn room. Today felt different. There was a warmth in his chest he hadn't felt in a while, a flutter of excitement, like he could actually laugh without worry. He jumped out of bed, quickly dressed, and rummaged through his pockets. The letter from Kian and Lira that had been folded into his journal still lay there.
He stared at it for a long time. For a moment, he had no idea what to do. How could he find his friends? He didn't have their address; he didn't even know where to begin. But slowly, as he turned the letter over, his eyes caught a faint scrawl on the back — a small, almost hidden set of words. It looked like an address, though Ren didn't recognize it immediately. His heart skipped. Could it be…?
He hopped around in excitement, a laugh escaping his lips. "I found it! I really found it!" he whispered to himself, hugging the letter tightly. For the first time since arriving in this strange world, Ren felt a surge of happiness. He was going to see his friends again.
The walk to the location was filled with wonder. Ren's small legs carried him as quickly as they could. He peeked into alleyways, smiled at passersby, and even waved at a few children playing in the streets. Every step was filled with anticipation. When he finally arrived, the building was large and impressive — clearly well-kept, with iron gates and neatly trimmed hedges. His eyes widened. "Wow… this must be Kian's house?" he murmured, awestruck.
Inside, the building was warm and alive with activity. Sparks flew from a forge, metal rang sharply as it was struck and shaped. Ren peeked into a workshop, and there he saw a man — broad-shouldered, middle-aged, with hands calloused from years of smithing. He worked with calm precision, hammering and shaping a blade that gleamed even under the dim light.
Ren froze for a moment, unsure if he should step forward. Then Kian appeared, brushing soot from his clothes, his own blade slung on his back. "Ren!" he said calmly, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You found it."
Ren couldn't hold back. He ran forward, nearly tripping, and threw his arms around Kian's waist. "I-I did it! I really did it! I'm so happy to see you!" His laughter was pure and bright, echoing in the workshop. Kian chuckled softly and patted him on the back.
The middle-aged man — Kian's father — looked over the scene with amused eyes. "That's some enthusiasm," he said, his voice deep but warm. "Kian, bring the new sword."
Kian nodded and carefully drew the blade he had just finished forging. Ren's eyes gleamed. The craftsmanship was astonishing — a perfect balance between elegance and deadly efficiency. The father appraised the sword, nodding. "It's the fourth best in smithed quality," he said aloud. Kian tilted his head, smiling proudly. "To my style, it's first," he replied, eyes sparkling with quiet pride.
Ren clapped his hands, completely absorbed. "It's amazing! It really is!" he exclaimed. Every inch of the sword glimmered in his imagination — how he could use it, the tricks he could practice, the techniques he could invent. His mind buzzed with possibilities.
After a while, they left the workshop and headed to Lira's mansion. Ren's excitement didn't fade; he kept skipping along, trying to keep pace with Kian, who walked at a more measured pace.
When they arrived, the mansion loomed impressively, tall walls carved from white stone and decorated with intricate ironwork. Garden paths were lined with flowering shrubs, fountains sparkled in the morning light, and guards patrolled the outer courtyard. It was unlike anything Ren had ever seen. His eyes went wide. "I-I can't believe this… it's huge!" he whispered.
Inside, the household staff noticed their approach. A composed butler bowed deeply. "Miss Lira, your friends have arrived," he announced. Moments later, Lira appeared — graceful, young, and radiant, her uniform crisp and perfectly kept.
Ren's heart leapt. He ran forward, barely able to contain himself. "Lira! I… I found you!" he shouted, throwing his small arms around her in a tight hug. Lira laughed softly, slightly surprised but genuinely happy. "Ren! You actually came," she said, her voice warm and amused.
The family soon joined them. Lira's father, a composed mage with eyes like embers, greeted Ren with a nod. Her mother, a formidable swordswoman, gave a sharp but gentle smile. They were surprisingly jovial, especially considering the reputation of nobles. Lira's parents treated Ren with kindness, careful not to overwhelm him. He beamed, feeling more accepted than he had in a long time.
After brief introductions and small talk, they were led to the backyard. The garden was vast, with trimmed grass and a clear pond reflecting the sky. Ren ran around, inspecting the flowers, the small statues, and the fencing. He even tried to climb a tree, laughing when he nearly fell. Lira watched, her amusement hidden behind a composed expression, while Kian shook his head with a soft smile.
"Careful, Ren," Kian warned. "You're not invincible."
"I know, I know!" Ren said cheerfully. "But it's fun!"
The afternoon passed with Ren exploring every corner of the mansion's backyard, touching everything with wonder and joy. It was a rare day of happiness, a day where he didn't have to fight or think about survival. His small heart felt full. He glanced up at the sky as the sun began to set, the golden light reflecting off the mansion walls, and he felt a rare peace.
Today, Ren was just a child. Just a boy with friends, a place to rest, and the warm embrace of family and camaraderie. For now, that was enough.