His mother stood before him, her eyes watering with unshed tears.
"Don't you think you've grown too fast?"
Ruvian looked into her dark-blue eyes. The same as his.
Guilt, it seemed, had the effect of sneaking in between cracks. But why should he feel guilty? He had done nothing wrong. Logically, guilt was a useless emotion. A parasite of the mind. So, he should easily dispose of the emotion.
However, humans weren't wired for cold detachment, no matter how much they pretended otherwise. If someone looked at you with unguarded love, you either broke under it or bent to meet it.
'Ugh. Yeah, I didn't do anything wrong, it wasn't me who wanted to be transmigrated into this damnable world!'
Ruvian nodded and replied. "Yes, time flew fast."
He lowered his gaze and sighed reluctantly.
She huffed softly with a pout, a familiar exasperation laced with warmth.
"Hmph! Like a father, like a son. Then, promise me you'll eat properly. You always forget when you're too caught up in something."
"I promise." Ruvian said with a soft smile.
He did not dwell on her words this time.
Instead, he reached into his bag, fingers closing around a carefully wrapped bundle. Without a word, he placed it in her hands.
She unwrapped it slowly, cautiously until the gleam of polished steel caught the morning light.
A kitchen knife.
Her breath hitched. "Ruvian, this—"
"You always complained about your old one." His voice was calm, as if the gesture was of no consequence.
"This one will serve you better, mom."
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then, with a shake of her head, she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek, lingering just long enough to speak what words could not.
"Thank you, my dear."
A sharp tug at his sleeve shattered the moment's stillness. Ruvian looked down. Ciela clung to him, tiny hands grasping at the fabric as if letting go would make him disappear. Her lower lip trembled.
He had never known what it was like to have a younger sibling. Never understood what it meant to have someone look up to him, to cling to him without hesitation.
Ciela was small. Unafraid to demand his attention. Unashamed of her reliance on him. And the strangest thing? He gradually didn't mind it. There was no irritation, no impatience anymore, only the unspoken instinct to steady her, to reassure her.
Was this really him? Or was it this body's lingering emotions, weaving themselves into his own?
'I wasn't sure either.'
But as he gently placed a hand atop her head, fingers threading through her soft hair, he realized.
'Maybe it didn't matter… I always wanted a younger sibling too, I guess.'
Ciela's grip on his sleeve tightened, small fingers curling desperately into the fabric.
"You're leaving… I don't like it."
Her voice was quiet, but stubborn, laced with the kind of sadness that only a child could express so freely.
Ruvian exhaled slowly. "Don't start crying."
"I'm not!"
A blatant lie, one undone by the way she furiously rubbed at her dampening eyes.
Ruvian reached into his bag, pulling out a carefully chosen gift—a stuffed chipmunk-doll. Ciela gasped, her sadness momentarily forgotten as she clutched it tightly to her chest.
"It's supposed to help you sleep," he murmured, voice steady.
"So, stop sneaking into Mother's bed."
She pouted, but held the doll even closer, nuzzling into its fur.
"I'll name him Ruvian Junior!"
'Ruvian what?'
"That's… unnecessary."
But despite his words, he didn't pry the doll from her arms. She looked up at him, eyes still wet but brimming with something lighter.
His father, who had been silent this whole time, let out a low chuckle.
"Let her have it."
Ruvian turned to the man.
He reached into his bag one last time and held out a simple, well-crafted hand plane—a tool used to smooth wood.
His father accepted it, running a calloused hand along the polished surface. His sharp eyes studied the craftsmanship, and then, slowly, he nodded.
Then, after a pause, he placed a firm hand on Ruvian's shoulder.
"Make something of yourself out there, son."
Ruvian gave a single nod.
The carriage driver called out, his voice gruff yet indifferent.
"Time to go, lad."
Ruvian exhaled, before stepping onto the carriage without looking back. The wheels groaned against the dirt road, the gentle sway of movement beginning to pull him forward… forward, away.
"Come back soon, okay?" Ciela's voice, small yet insistent, cut through the morning air.
Ruvian turned his head towards them, they were waving at him.
Activating: [Editorial Preview]
Then, he glanced at the top of their heads.
[Alive]
[Alive]
[Alive]
He felt a sense of reassurance. He had checked it countless times, worried that it suddenly changed or he might overlook it.
Then, Ruvian did not hesitate to answer.
He finally allowed himself a genuine smile.
"I will!"
A simple and unadorned promise.
Silence settled in the wake of his words, broken only by the rhythmic creak of wheels against the earth.
Ruvian let out a slow breath, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, yet his thoughts trailed behind, lingering in the place he had left.
'You had a nice family. I'm envious of you.'
The words were meant for the original Ruvian who had once lived in this body.
He closed his eyes, letting the thought rest. And when he opened them again, the hesitation had faded.
His expression was calm.
But his resolve was set.
The academy awaited.
…
The carriage rolled to a stop.
The gentle sway that had accompanied Ruvian throughout the journey vanished, replaced by an expectant atmosphere.
He stepped out.
The first thing that struck him was the sheer magnitude of the place.
Velthia Academy's gates towered before him, a colossus of black iron and ancient stone, its presence as heavy as the history it carried.
And then, the gates of the academy came into view.
They loomed over the procession, an immense structure of magic reinforced stone, standing as both a threshold and a warning. Above, an arch bore the academy's name in bold, silver lettering.
[Velthia Academy]
The academy itself stretched beyond the gate, its spires piercing the sky.
Ruvian wasn't alone in his arrival.
All around him, other carriages pulled up, their crests bearing symbols of noble houses, prestigious guilds, and even far-off academies that had sent their finest to study here.
He watched as students disembarked, some with the practiced grace of aristocrats, others moving with barely contained excitement or anxious stiffness.
He adjusted the strap of his travel pack, feeling the weight settle against his back. The uniform, still somewhat stiff and unfamiliar on his skin, marked him as one of them.
Yet unlike some of these scholars, he had no family name to flaunt, no servants to shadow his steps. He exhaled, turning his gaze toward the gates.
The line moved steadily, a procession of new students arriving one after another before the towering gates of Velthia Academy.
Ruvian stood in the queue, his presence unassuming among the mixed students waiting for their turn.
Ahead, a student dressed in fine noble attire confidently presented a sealed letter bearing an intricate crest.
The official, a stern-looking man with a monocle, barely glanced at it before giving a nod.
"House Avelmont. Verified. Please, proceed."
The young noble strode through without a second glance.
One by one, students stepped forward, their names checked against the records before they were granted entry.
Some had documents handed over by their retainers, while others, especially commoners, produced parchment carefully sealed with wax, signs of their hard-earned acceptance.
Then, it was Ruvian's turn.
He stepped forward, presenting the letter he had carried since his departure. The official took it, adjusting his monocle as he studied the seal before unfolding the parchment.
"Ruvian Castelor," the man read aloud, his tone neutral. He paused briefly, eyes flicking over the details.
The moment stretched slightly longer than necessary. There was no outright disdain in the official's expression, but Ruvian could sense the subtle evaluation in the man's gaze.
The official cleared his throat and stamped the parchment with an enchanted sigil, causing a faint golden glow to flicker across its surface.
"Verified. You may proceed."
Ruvian accepted the document and stepped forward through the massive iron gates, feeling the subtle hum of mana as he passed beneath the arch.
Immediately, an attendant in the academy's uniform approached. A young man, perhaps a senior student assigned to assist newcomers.
"New enrollment?" the attendant asked briskly.
Ruvian gave a slight nod.
"I'll escort you. Your belongings will be taken to your assigned dormitory," the attendant continued, gesturing toward another assistant who was already reaching for Ruvian's travel bag.
Ruvian's fingers twitched slightly before he let go. He wasn't used to someone else handling his things.
A habit from his previous life.
The attendant didn't seem to notice.
"Follow me." He said.
Ruvian fell into step behind him, taking in his surroundings as they moved deeper into the academy grounds.
Marble pathways stretched ahead, lined with statues of past scholars and legendary figures who had once walked these halls. The air itself felt different here.
Then, just as the sunlight pierced the colonnade to his right, the system appeared with a familiar sound of a sapphire page turning to a new one.
['The Prologue' has reached its conclusion.]
[Bearer of the First Fable, from this moment onwards, make sure your footnote ends here.]
[Entering Arc I: 'Beneath the Banner of Enrollment'.]