An almost ethereal splendor bore down upon the antiquated manor. Series of lights gently caressed the windowsills and rooftops of the place Aio once called home, drowning the manor in a sea of warmth, the embodiment of anachronistic charm upon which Aio’s memory fondly attributed. Chipped wooden walls outlined the surface of the building, and the entranceway bore the rusted wooden visage of a once ornate design of unknown origin. Patches of plants could be seen outside, growing under narrowed streams of light targeting a specific spot surrounded by perimeter of wooden fences. Aio was familiar these plants, which sprouted cavern-fruit under low-light conditions. They weren’t hard to maintain, and the fruit had a an almost bitter quality to it, balanced out by subtle hints of minty tartness. He never much enjoyed it, but thinking about it caused nostalgia to swell within him.
This image painted itself in Aio’s mind, and part of him still couldn’t believe it. He was home again.
“So this is the Little Miracle’s manor huh?” Vera said. “It’s quite quaint.”
Aio looked up at one of the second-floor windowsills, noticing a shadow.
A little bit wouldn’t hurt, he thought, issuing a non-verbal command. His eyes sharpened to the utmost and the definition of the silhouette cleared before him. A young kid, probably no older than eight, peered back at him with hazel-colored eyes. The kid hopped down from something, and disappeared.
Aio grinned. He was that curious once. Seemed like the orphanage was still going strong. There were probably going to be a lot of new faces he didn’t recognize.
Suddenly, he noticed it again. An empty smell. He looked up, he looked around but saw nothing. And just like before, it was gone. Additionally, a small buzzing sound that wasn’t there before could be heard, although that went away just as quickly.
“What’s wrong?” Cyr asked. Aio looked surprised and stammered to get his words in.
“Oh um, it’s just, I saw a kid up in the window,” he said. “Looked like there’s going to be a lot of new faces I don’t recognize haha. I hope they still remember me.”
Cyr patted Aio on his shoulder, “Well, you remember them. I don’t see why they wouldn’t.” Aio looked over to Vera, who smiled, but for a brief moment, he swore she was looking through him. However, that impression disappeared in a second, and he wondered if he was just imagining things.
The trio walked up to the front porch, and Aio placed his hand on the door knocker, swinging it against the door a few times. The sounds echoed slightly in the cavern. There was no response for a minute, but when Aio was about to knock again, he heard the sound of shuffling feet.
The door creaked open and an older man peaked his head through. “Who is it?” A familiar timbre reached Aio’s ears, and though the voice sounded more raspy than he last remembered, he’d never mistake who it was.
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“I’m back, Mr. Trimbotin,” Aio said. The old man opened the door, hair white and scruffy. He had much more wrinkles than Aio remembered and squinted at Aio for only a moment, before his eyes widened and a big toothy grin plastered onto his cheeks.
“Why, if it isn’t the little runt, Aio Semerand. You’re finally back home. Took you long enough,” Trimbotin responded. He looked stern, arms crossed, but Aio knew it was his way of looking tough. Trimbotin was always a softy. Aio went in for a hug, and Trimbotin, who was much shorter than Aio now returned the hug, holding tightly.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” Aio responded cheerfully.
“It’s so good to see you again,” Trimbotin said, eyes tearing up. “You should let us know next time you decide to leave for years, instead of having the Blackbirds tell us.” He gestured towards Cyr and Vera. A verbal arrow pierced through Aio’s heart. He realized he never told anybody, except his closest friend here, about his departure to a hunter Division. He looked to Cyr and Vera, and despite his smile, Cyr looked…deadly serious. As for Vera, the image of a serpent ran through his head.
What’s with this intimidating aura?
“Come in. Come in. Any friends of the runt here is a friend of mine,” Trimbotin said invitingly. “Be careful with Madam Roberta however. She has an even nastier tongue than I, haha.”
“You do us such honor, Mr. Trimbotin. But me and Vera have some hunter business to discuss right now. We’ll leave Aio in your hands for now. I’ll come back to fetch him, or he can come find us later when he has time,” Cyr said. “If there’s food left over later, we’ll be here for sure.”
“Haha,” Mr. Trimbotin said. “Busy lifestyle out there, ain’t it? It’s okay, I understand that hunters got things to take care of. Come on, Aio. Let’s leave them to their business. I’m sure Ilia and Reyland would be ecstatic to see you again, assuming Madam Roberta doesn’t find and scold you first.”
Aio looked confusingly at Cyr. Madam Roberta wouldn’t turn away hunters. It wasn’t as if orphans from here hasn’t pursued the path of the hunter before. He looked into Cyr’s eyes, who shook his head slightly, as if reading Aio’s thoughts.
Something was wrong…Aio thought. He didn’t quite understand the languages that hunter speak. There’s always another layer.
Cyr didn’t correct Trimbotin regarding Vera’s status as a guide, and not a member of the Blackbirds. And what was it that Cyr said?
While Aio pondered the matter, Trimbotin eased him into the manor. The hallway leading into the common room glowed with the warmth of the hearth, an ancient method of providing light and ambiance to a home. Aio took a look back at the entranceway, but the others were already gone. He looked forward again, and as he rounded the corner, he was met with a bunch of young and excited faces, as well as some older familiar faces.
An older boy looked to Aio, speechless. But seconds later, he walked up to Aio, placing his hands on his shoulder. Riven, Aio’s best friend during his time in the orphanage, looked the same as he remembered, just bigger. Brown, puffy hair, and wide eyes, wearing glasses of an older design, he exuded the air of adulthood now, though he could do without the khakis and plaid shirt. Still, Aio felt he hasn’t changed much at all, because that was how he had always been, in Aio’s eyes.
“They found out any way, huh?” Aio asked.
“Wasn’t me,” Riven responded. “Mum’s the word.” He placed a finger on his mouth, indicating that he kept quiet about Aio’s departure.
Riven continued, “‘Bout time you returned. You’ve still got some chores left over.”
Aio laughed and the two best friends hugged it out.