Homeward Bound

The journey back to Violet Castle was a familiar one, yet Raimon felt a renewed sense of anticipation as the carriage rumbled along the winding roads. The landscape transformed from the structured elegance of the capital to the rolling hills and lush forests of his family's estate. Autumn leaves painted the scenery in vibrant hues of gold and crimson.

Inside the carriage, Raimon carefully inspected the gifts he had prepared. The compass for Edward was crafted from polished silver, its needle enchanted to always point toward Violet Castle. Intricate engravings adorned its surface, depicting constellations and symbols of protection.

For Guillermina, he had created the enchanted journal. Bound in soft leather dyed a deep violet, it bore the family crest on its cover. When opened, the pages shimmered faintly, ready to transcribe her words.

He also carried a small assortment of vitality potions, their efficacy improved through his recent research. Ensuring his siblings' well-being remained a priority.

As the castle towers came into view, Raimon felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. He hadn't been home since the previous festival, his studies and responsibilities keeping him occupied.

The carriage pulled to a stop in the grand courtyard, and before the footman could open the door, Edward and Guillermina appeared, their faces alight with joy.

"Raimon!" they exclaimed in unison.

He stepped out, embracing them both. "You've grown since I last saw you," he remarked, noting how they nearly reached his shoulder now.

"We've been practicing our studies," Edward declared proudly. "Sir Edmund says we're making great progress."

"That's wonderful to hear," Raimon replied. "I have something for each of you."

He presented the compass to Edward. "May this guide you on all your adventures."

Edward's eyes widened. "It's magnificent! Thank you!"

To Guillermina, he handed the journal. "For your stories and thoughts. May it capture your imagination."

She traced her fingers over the cover. "It's beautiful. I've so much to write about."

Their parents approached, smiles warming their expressions. "Welcome home, Raimon," his mother, Duchess Reineza, greeted, her embrace gentle yet firm.

"Mother, Father," he acknowledged, bowing respectfully to his father, Duke Raion.

"We're pleased you're able to join us for the festival," his father said. "Your presence has been missed."

"It's good to be home," Raimon admitted.

As they moved inside, the castle buzzed with activity. Preparations for the Festival of Ascension were well underway—staff decorating the halls with garlands, musicians rehearsing, and the aroma of festive dishes wafting from the kitchens.

That evening, the family gathered for a private dinner. Conversation flowed easily, touching on Raimon's studies, his siblings' progress, and the state of the duchy.

"Your latest batch of vitality potions has been remarkable," his mother noted. "Edward and Guillermina's health has improved significantly."

"I'm glad they're helping," Raimon said. "I've been refining the formula."

His father looked at him thoughtfully. "Your dedication is commendable. Balancing your research with your studies cannot be easy."

"It keeps me focused," Raimon replied. "There's still much to be done."

As the meal concluded, the twins eagerly showed Raimon the hidden passages they had discovered, regaling him with tales of their explorations.

"We found a room with old maps," Edward said excitedly. "Maybe you can help us decipher them."

"Perhaps tomorrow," Raimon suggested. "I'd like to see what you've uncovered."

Late that night, Raimon stood on the balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens. The stars shimmered above, a tranquil contrast to the complexities of his thoughts.

"Couldn't sleep?" came his mother's voice from behind.

He turned to see Duchess Reineza approaching. "Just reflecting," he admitted.

She joined him at the railing. "You always did prefer the quiet hours."

He hesitated before speaking. "Mother, I wanted to thank you and Father for the discretion regarding my birthdays."

She looked at him with gentle concern. "We only want what's best for you. After what happened when you were eight, we thought it best not to make a fuss."

"I appreciate it," he said softly. "It's not that I don't value the sentiment. It's just... birthdays have never held much joy for me."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone has their own way of marking time. What's important is that you're here, with us."

He nodded, grateful for her understanding.

"Your siblings adore you," she continued. "Your presence brings them happiness."

"They bring me happiness as well," Raimon replied. "I see so much potential in them."

"Perhaps next year, they'll join you at the institute."

"That's the plan," he agreed. "Though I hope their experience is smoother than mine was."

Reineza smiled knowingly. "You've overcome much, Raimon. We're proud of the young man you've become."

"Thank you," he said, the words carrying a weight of unspoken emotions.

They stood in comfortable silence for a while before his mother bid him goodnight.

The following days were filled with festive activities. Raimon accompanied his siblings on walks through the estate, engaged in friendly duels with Edward, and listened attentively as Guillermina read aloud from her journal.

"Your handwriting is quite elegant," he complimented.

She beamed. "I've been practicing. The journal helps."

Edward showed him the compass in action. "It really does always point home," he marveled. "No matter where I go."

"Home is an anchor," Raimon said. "It's important to know how to find your way back."

On the eve of the festival, the family gathered with close friends and nobles from neighboring regions. The grand hall was adorned with lights and banners, music filling the air.

Raimon mingled politely, engaging in conversations yet feeling slightly detached. Social gatherings were part of his upbringing, but he often found them draining.

"Lord Raimon," a voice interrupted his thoughts.

He turned to see Lady Seraphine approaching, elegantly attired.

"Lady Seraphine," he greeted. "A pleasure to see you."

She offered a graceful curtsey. "The pleasure is mine. Your estate is as magnificent as ever."

"Thank you. I trust you're enjoying the festivities?"

"Very much so," she replied. "I was hoping to have a word with you."

"Of course."

They moved to a quieter corner of the hall.

"I've heard much about your research," she began. "Your advancements in alchemy are quite impressive."

"I'm flattered," Raimon said cautiously.

"I believe there could be mutual benefits in collaborating," she suggested. "Our families have long had amicable relations."

He assessed her carefully. "I'm always open to discussions that could further knowledge and serve the greater good."

She smiled. "Perhaps we can arrange a meeting after the festival."

"Perhaps," he agreed, noting the calculated gleam in her eyes.

As the evening progressed, Raimon found solace in the company of his siblings and close family. Together, they watched the ceremonial lighting of the lanterns, a tradition symbolizing hope and renewal.

Edward leaned close. "Make a wish," he whispered.

Raimon glanced at the flickering lights ascending into the night sky. "I wish for clarity," he thought. "And the strength to navigate the path ahead."

Later, as the household settled into quiet slumber, Raimon retreated to his study. He opened a journal, intending to document his thoughts, but found himself sketching instead—designs for new alchemical instruments, ideas for enhancing the vitality potions, and notes on potential solutions to the bloodline volatility that had plagued his family.

A soft knock interrupted his focus.

"Come in," he said.

Sir Edmund entered, his demeanor respectful. "Pardon the intrusion, Master Raimon."

"Not at all, Sir Edmund. Is everything alright?"

"All is well," the butler assured. "I wanted to deliver this letter that arrived for you."

Raimon accepted the envelope, recognizing Cedric's handwriting.

"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate your diligence."

Sir Edmund inclined his head. "If there's anything else you require, please let me know."

"Actually," Raimon hesitated. "Could you arrange for a carriage to take me to the northern observatory tomorrow evening? I'd like to observe the celestial alignment."

"Certainly, Master Raimon."

As Sir Edmund departed, Raimon opened the letter.

*Dear Raimon,

Graduation was a success, though your absence was felt. The sword you gifted me is extraordinary—a true masterpiece. It will serve as a symbol of our friendship and my commitment to the path ahead.

I wanted you to know that I'm forming an elite order of knights. Your stories and insights have inspired me greatly.

I hope we can reunite soon.

Yours,

Cedric*

Raimon felt a swell of pride and affection. Setting the letter aside, he resolved to reply promptly.

"Perhaps I can visit him once the festival concludes," he thought.

As the night deepened, Raimon returned to his work, the quiet of the castle enveloping him. Despite the challenges and complexities of his life, moments like these provided a sense of purpose.

"Fifteen years," he mused. "Still so much to do."

He glanced out the window at the moonlit landscape, a serene tableau that belied the undercurrents of change rippling through the world.

"Whatever the future holds," he whispered, "I'll face it head-on."