HAPPY DAY

The golden hue of the afternoon sun fell gently upon Lumisgrave, casting soft shadows along the cobbled paths of the Upper District. A gentle wind stirred the curtains in the hallway of the Mythic Base, and birds chirped faintly outside the open windows.

Inside, Nirela stood near one of those windows, brushing her long hair over one shoulder, wearing a soft maroon dress with silver embroidery. Her features glowed gently under the warm light.

Footsteps echoed softly down the hallway—measured, deliberate, and familiar.

"Are you ready to go?" Arslan's voice carried a soft weight, his tone calm but edged with a certain anticipation.

Nirela turned, smiling. "Yes. I've been waiting."

They walked together, side by side, down the wide streets of Lumisgrave. The city bustled around them—vendors closing their stalls, carriages rolling past, children playing with wooden toys and paper kites. But none of it disturbed the quiet conversation between Arslan and Nirela, their steps in sync, their presence warm.

Eventually, they arrived at the modest home of Arslan's mother in the Upper District. It was a small, stone cottage with ivy curling around the front pillars, and a wooden gate that creaked as Arslan opened it.

Inside, Arslan gestured for Nirela to wait in the cozy living room. "I'll just speak to my mother."

Nirela nodded and took a seat, looking around the home—it was simple but filled with warmth. A shelf of old scrolls and books sat above the hearth, dried herbs hung by the kitchen window, and the scent of spice lingered in the air.

In the back room, Arslan found his mother folding freshly washed linens. She turned as he entered.

"You brought her, didn't you?" she asked with a sly smile.

Arslan chuckled faintly. "Yes... I did. And I wanted to tell you something."

She paused, placing the linens aside. "What is it, dear?"

Arslan stepped closer, his voice more solemn. "She'll be my wife. Soon."

A moment of silence followed before his mother's eyes welled with tears. She covered her mouth in joyful disbelief.

"Oh, Arslan...!" she whispered, before embracing him tightly. "You've made me so happy. She's wonderful. I could see it in your eyes even before you said anything."

Then, she stepped past Arslan and entered the living room where Nirela stood politely.

"Come here, sweetheart," his mother said warmly, drawing Nirela into a gentle hug. "Welcome to our home."

Nirela, slightly flustered but smiling, returned the embrace. "Thank you... it's lovely to finally be here."

Then they go inside room where Nirela and Arslan sit down.

His mother said "I am coming...plz wait a little"

Then she go into Kitchen and made a fresh orange juice for them ...

They all sat down... His mother asked Nirela about his family...

Nirela said,"She is orphan.."

His mother held her hand and said "Now, you will no more orphan, when you will be sad just come to me.."

For a while, they talk and laugh ....

Arslan's mother motioned toward the kitchen. "Would you like to help me with dinner? I'd love to learn more about you."

"I'd be honored," Nirela said, rolling up her sleeves.

As they worked together—chopping vegetables, kneading dough, arranging the herbs—laughter echoed through the kitchen. Nirela asked about Arslan's childhood, and his mother eagerly shared stories.

"You know," she said while stirring a pot, "Arslan never used to talk to girls. Never even looked at one too long. So when he started mentioning you, I knew you were someone special."

Nirela blushed, glancing toward the door where Arslan stood, quietly listening with folded arms.

"He always kept to himself," his mother continued. "Didn't have friends for years. After his father was taken... it was like the world closed in on him. But now... you've changed that. You brought light back into his life."

Nirela looked down for a moment, then met the older woman's eyes. "I won't ever hurt him."

Dinner was simple but hearty—spiced rice, roasted roots, freshly baked bread, and herb-seasoned lamb. The three of them sat together at a small round table. Laughter and conversation filled the air like music.

As the night deepened, soft winds whispered outside and lamps glowed warmly in the living room. Arslan sat on a couch with his mother beside him, Nirela on the other side. They sipped warm tea and listened to old stories of Lumisgrave, of the world before the Vaults, before the chaos.

Eventually, his mother stood. "You both must be tired. I've made the guest room ready. Nirela, dear, it's yours. Arslan, your room is just the same."

They nodded, grateful.

As they prepared to sleep, Nirela stepped into Arslan's room just for a moment.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For today. For everything."

Arslan took her hand gently. "You deserve it. And tomorrow... we continue our journey."

Nirela leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then, with a shy smile, she turned and stepped into the guest room.

As the night wrapped the house in peaceful silence, only the sound of wind brushing against the stone walls remained. And for the first time in a long while, Arslan slept with a heart full—not of power or responsibility—but of peace, love, and hope for what was to come.