ch 23 to 25

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Chapter 23 – Chaos, Cake, and a Broken Sword

The party kicked into high gear.

Villagers filled the courtyard, laughter ringing out in waves. Paper lanterns danced overhead, enchanted to glow brighter when someone laughed beneath them. Ray, still wearing his new gloves, bounced around with all the energy of a sugar-fueled squirrel.

"I challenge thee to a duel, Sir Aeron!" shouted a curly-haired boy, waving a wooden sword dramatically.

"You again?" Aeron groaned. "That's your fifth duel. You lost the last four."

"This time, I've trained!" The boy tripped over a rock before even swinging.

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd.

Ray and Rhea sat under a tree, stuffing their mouths with honeybread.

"You think if I eat ten of these, I'll awaken a food-type class?" Ray asked between bites.

"You'll awaken a constipation-type class," Rhea shot back.

Lydia Flamewright had taken over organizing the party games. It turned out, nobility had their own twisted versions of village games. Like "Tag of Fire," which involved chasing people while holding a mildly enchanted ember.

"It's only a little hot," Lydia said. "You won't lose your eyebrows."

Screaming children disagreed.

Another noble guest arrived late—a young girl named Maris from House Thornvale. She had a permanent frown and wore black armor that squeaked when she moved.

"Why is she dressed like she's going to war?" Ray whispered.

"She's eight and dramatic," Rhea whispered back. "A walking thundercloud."

"I heard that," Maris replied flatly. "Thunderclouds are majestic."

The highlight of the evening came when the twins convinced Ray to join the Trial of the Five Feathers—a race through the village with five colored feathers hidden at ridiculous heights.

"First one to get all five wins a cake and gets to throw a pie at the loser," Aeron declared.

"Wait—what?" Ray paused. "No one told me about pie violence."

Too late.

The race began with chaos. Kids climbed trees, leapt rooftops, and fought like mini-adventurers over feathers tied to wind chimes. At one point, a random chicken became a target because it looked like it had feathers of value.

"WHY IS IT CHASING ME?!" someone screamed.

In the end, Rhea won the trial, somehow charming the final feather off a passing hawk. Aeron came in second. Ray, bruised, dirt-smeared, and grinning like a maniac, came in third.

He still got cake. And a pie to the face.

From Rhea.

"Happy Birthday, Featherbrain," she said sweetly, smashing it into his cheeks.

The evening ended with gifts from the villagers—leather boots, carving knives, a few odd scrolls, and a very questionable wooden rabbit carved by someone who'd clearly never seen a rabbit before.

Ray held it with reverence. "This... this is cursed."

His mother ruffled his hair. "It's made with love."

"It's looking at me, Mom."

As the stars brightened above, Ray lay on a rooftop with Aeron and Rhea beside him. Laughter still echoed from the fire pit. Music played softly in the distance.

"I kinda wish birthdays were every month," Ray whispered.

"You just want more cake," Rhea replied.

"True."

"But… I get it," Aeron said quietly. "Feels like... everything's still okay, right?"

Ray nodded. For now, the world was kind.

But even in the warm joy of the evening, his eyes drifted to the sky. Beyond the stars was a world where his siblings had fought, survived... and where he would one day follow.

---Chapter 24 – Whispers of the Second World

The morning after Ray's chaotic but heartwarming birthday party, the village had returned to its usual rhythm. Birds chirped over the rooftops, and the sun peeked through the scattered clouds, as if still smiling over the festivities from the day before.

Ray lay sprawled on the wooden floor, a half-unwrapped gift still dangling from his hand—a tiny enchanted compass that spun lazily even when the world stood still. Beside him, his little beast avatar (a small, round, owl-bear hybrid he named "Mumble") was chewing on a discarded ribbon with all the fury of a war god.

"Why do you look more tired than I do?" Aeron said, walking into the room while juggling an apple. "You didn't even win the Trial of Five Feathers."

Ray smirked. "Didn't need to. Rhea took care of me with a pie to the face. It was strategic surrender."

"Oh sure, 'strategic,'" Rhea chimed in, entering behind their brother with smug pride. "You're just mad I got all the cheers and you got blueberry in your nose."

"Totally worth it," Ray muttered, rubbing his nostrils.

Their mother, Lira, soon entered the room, her hair tied back, her armor only half-buckled. "Alright you three, finish breakfast. Your father's waiting at the field. We've got guests today."

"More guests?" Ray blinked. "Please tell me it's not Lord Kallas again. I can only hear him brag about his son's wind affinity one more time before I cast a fireball out of spite."

"You can't even cast wind," Rhea said dryly.

"Exactly."

Lira chuckled. "No, not Lord Kallas. These are important friends from the capital. The ones we mentioned… who help people transition to the Second World."

That instantly drew their attention.

The Second World.

Ray's heart skipped. He'd heard the stories. Fought the imaginary beasts in his dreams. Watched his siblings go off to that world—and return stronger.

Outside, the field was already set. A man in a sleek silver coat, his eyes glowing faintly like a System window, stood beside Ray's father, who was speaking to a woman in long blue robes trimmed in gold. Several other figures waited by a cart filled with training weapons and artifacts.

"They're Evaluators," Aeron whispered. "Dad said they help track potential awakenings and give preparation to families."

Ray's mind raced. Was this about him? No—his system hadn't awakened yet. Then why were they here?

As the family approached, the man turned to Ray and smiled gently. "So, this is the youngest?"

"Ray," Lira introduced, placing a hand on her son's shoulder.

The Evaluator nodded. "We've heard a lot about you. Strong bloodline. Talented siblings. I'm Garet of House Varnell. I helped guide your sister Rhea into Soltera… though she probably didn't remember me. She was too busy glaring at everyone."

Rhea snorted.

"Is… is this about awakening?" Ray asked, eyes wide.

Garet chuckled. "No pressure, young man. Your path will open when it's time. Today, we're here to offer you and your siblings some early exposure training. A look at maps, artifacts, and—if you're brave enough—a small beast simulation dome."

Ray's eyes sparkled. "Yes! Uh—I mean, respectfully… yes."

As the day unfolded, the siblings trained with light weapons, learned about beast classifications in Soltera, and listened to stories of quests gone wrong, heroes lost, and cities risen from nothing. They saw a fragment of the world their family had touched—a world they would all one day be part of.

But even as Ray grinned through it all, his mind drifted to the same silent question:

When will I awaken?

The sun dipped low by evening, casting golden shadows over the fields. The Evaluators packed up, promising to return in a year.

As they left, Ray looked up at the sky, his fingers tightening on the hilt of a wooden sword.

One day, he'd enter that world.

One day, he'd rise.

But first… he had to wait.

------

Chapter 25: Eyes from Above

The sun dipped low over the village, casting long shadows through the trees as Ray played with his little avatar. The tiny creature—a Level 1 beast his brother gifted him—wriggled happily around his feet. His sister laughed, chasing after it with a stick, while their father sat nearby sharpening a sword with focused patience.

Ray's laughter echoed through the clearing. For now, the world felt safe. The weight of quests, danger, and gods lingered only faintly, like a distant storm.

"Try to catch him, Ray!" his sister teased, tossing the avatar a small ball.

Ray scrambled, cheeks flushed with excitement, but the little beast darted away with surprising speed. "Hey! Not fair! You can't just run like that!"

Their father chuckled from the side. "Patience, Ray. Your reflexes will catch up soon enough. Strength isn't everything."

Ray pouted but smiled. "I'm trying, okay? I want to be strong—like you and Mom."

His sister sat beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. "You will be. Don't worry."

His mother appeared then, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread. "Enough playing for now. Dinner soon, and we have guests coming for your birthday next week."

Ray's eyes sparkled. "I can't wait! More friends, more games!"

His mother smiled warmly. "Yes, and more stories too. You'll hear what the others have been through."

---

Far above, beyond time and space, the five gods gathered in the golden halls of the God Realm. They hovered near a window that looked down on the human world, focusing on the small village where Ray lived.

Ploop smirked, folding his arms. "So, our little Ray is still playing fetch with that annoying little avatar of his, huh?"

Lemiel shook his head gently, smiling. "It's good for him. Peaceful moments are rare. He needs these."

"Myra," Valkar called out, nudging the armored goddess, "what do your systems say? Is he growing faster than we thought?"

Myra's glowing eyes flickered as she scrolled through countless streams of data. "Indeed. His progress curve is irregular, but promising. Emotional stability fluctuates, but overall resilience is above average. He's adapting well to the physical training. His brain activity during learning spikes higher than predicted."

Ploop rolled his eyes. "Way to kill the mood with numbers."

"Don't underestimate numbers," Myra replied flatly. "They tell the truth."

Silien, standing quietly near a swirling cluster of stars, broke her silence with a soft voice. "He dreams more now. I've left faint echoes in his sleep—visions of distant places. He doesn't understand yet, but it's planting seeds."

Lemiel's gaze softened. "Those seeds will grow when the time comes."

Valkar grinned, slamming a massive fist into his palm. "I say he's got warrior blood. I saw him sparring with his siblings. Not bad, even if he's a bit… clumsy."

Ploop smirked. "Clumsy? You mean like the time he fell chasing his avatar? I'm still waiting for him to stop crying after that."

"My little sheep cries?" Lemiel teased, grinning widely. "That's adorable."

Ploop shot him a glare. "Don't encourage him."

---

Back in the village, Ray sat quietly, gazing up at the stars just beginning to appear. A strange warmth tickled the back of his mind—a whispering feeling, like a dream calling from far away.

He closed his eyes. A faint melody drifted in the air, like wind chimes woven from starlight. It comforted him, made the night less lonely.

"Mom," he said softly. "Do you think I'll ever be ready? Ready for the quests, for the second world?"

His mother crouched beside him, brushing his hair with gentle fingers. "You will be, Ray. You have all the time you need. And no matter what, we're here."

His father joined, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "We believe in you. And the gods… they're watching, too."

Ray smiled, heart swelling with a mix of hope and fear. "I just want to protect this world. And my family."

His sister leaned in with a mischievous grin. "You'll be our hero yet. Now stop being so sentimental and come help me with that avatar—it's plotting to steal my shoes."

---

High above, the gods exchanged looks, their voices dropping to softer tones.

"Myra," Lemiel said thoughtfully, "do you think it's time to prepare him? The barrier is weakening. The next stage is coming."

Myra nodded. "Soon. But forcing growth too early can break him. He must choose his own path."

Valkar cracked his knuckles. "Let him have his fun a while longer. Fighting's coming, but so is laughter. It balances the soul."

Silien's eyes shimmered. "When the time comes, he will know."

Ploop sighed, folding his arms again. "Humans are complicated. But he's worth watching."

The gods watched in silence as Ray's small village flickered like a fragile flame in the vast night.

---

The peaceful moment lingered, suspended between worlds.

And somewhere deep inside, Ray's destiny quietly stirred.