After Aodhán promised to explain the whole Arnold Frostbourne saga at a later date, Andrew finally led them to the front of the hall to introduce them to his family.

Aodhán observed the group of five gathered around the front of the hall as they weaved through the other guests and distant relatives, only saying hello to a few more people Andrew deemed too important to simply pass by.

Andrew's family was a weird one in Aodhán's opinion, but what really surprised him was the fact that Andrew was the only male offspring in his family. The other three were females, and from their stance, Aodhán could already tell that at least two of them were soldiers.

Really? What was with this family and the military?

When they finally arrived before the family, Andrew introduced them. “Mother, Father, this is Aodhán and Daruk Brystion. My friends from the academy.”

Andrew's father, the Baron, was a large man, almost seven feet tall, with a bloodline manifestation almost as severe as that of Fortuna's. His wife, on the other hand, was more in line with what Aodhán had expected, with a bloodline manifestation that indicated an uncommon-grade bloodline at best. Nevertheless, the woman was beautiful, but what caught Aodhán's attention was the tiny snow-white bird hanging on her shoulders.

The familiar, which Aodhán immediately recognized as a Caladrius, quipped and cocked its head curiously in their direction. Realizing that they'd been staring for a touch too long, Aodhán and Daruk hastily bowed.

“It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, my lord, my lady." Aodhán addressed them, with Daruk echoing his words.

“The pleasure is ours.” The baron smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “We've heard much about you both, and we're glad you accepted our invitation.”

“We're glad we did.” Daruk responded and nudged Andrew playfully. “I hope you've been telling them good things.”

“Only when he's sober.” A girl, only a few years older than them, tittered, and Aodhán immediately recognized her as Andrew's immediate elder sister. “He doesn't hesitate to spill the dirt after he's been lubricated enough.” She continued, and everyone chuckled at Andrew's expense.

“That was a one-time thing, Ashley.” Andrew protested and turned back to Daruk. “I promise I can hold my liquor.”

“You're too young to be holding anything at all.” His mother scolded him with a frown before turning to smile at them. “It's nice to meet you both, and even better to know that Andrew finally has a friend aside from Pope.”

“Okay mom.” Andrew quickly cut in, frowning at his mother. “You're going to freak my friends out. They don't need those details.”

One of Andrew's sisters, the one Aodhán suspected they were here to celebrate, judging by the military uniform she was wearing, laughed and said, “I believe his exact words were, ‘I couldn't have made it through the academy trials without them.’

“That is absolutely not true.” Aodhán chuckled. “Andrew is, for lack of a better term, a battle maniac. If anything, we're the ones holding him back.”

Baron Nikolai laughed proudly and patted Andrew on the shoulders, causing his mother to sigh with worry.

“Unfortunately, that's the case with all of my children except Diendre here—she gestured towards the celebrant—who has taken up a healer's profession instead.”

“Diendre is still a part of the military, mom.” Fortuna commented in a manner that suggested this wasn't the first time she was making that exact argument.

“I know that.” Andrew's mother smiled thinly. “But she's saving lives rather than taking them.”

Diendre nodded sagely. “That is true. Healing is the noblest of professions.”

Before the conversation could devolve further, the baron cleared his throat and cut in. “All professions are noble, as we're all working towards the greater good. Don't you agree, Aodhán?”

“Uhm…yeah.” Aodhán responded, trying to air his opinions in a way that offended nobody. “In the end, we're all just trying to keep our families safe.”

“The boy gets it.” Baron Nikolai laughed while his wife snorted, although she acknowledged his opinions with a nod.

Aodhán breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Diendre, congratulating her on her officerial position and wishing her the best. Daruk did the same, and their conversation continued until the servants finished setting the table.

The banquet tables were arranged in a U-shape, with each side long enough to accommodate a total of about 100 people. The table was filled with a variety of sumptuous-looking delicacies, and Aodhán's mouth watered slightly as he moved to take a seat beside Daruk and Andrew, but one of the servants politely stopped him. “This seat is reserved for someone else, my lord; allow me to lead you to your designated seat.”

The servant moved, and after exchanging confused glances with Andrew and Daruk, Aodhán followed. They moved to the opposite table before the servant finally came to a stop by a chair marked with his name. He glanced at the chair beside him and grimaced when he saw the name Fortuna Willowood written on a small napkin in stylized letters.

On his other side was a name he didn't recognize, but he spotted Aldric's name only a few chairs away.

Aodhán glanced over at Daruk as he took his seat and shrugged in response to his confused expression. Fortuna slid into her seat the next moment, and Aodhán hissed, despite wearing a polite smile. “I assume this is all your doing.”

“Couldn't it have been a simple twist of fate?” Fortuna grinned, and Aodhán suppressed a scowl.

“I very much doubt that's the case.”

"So cynical for someone so young," Fortuna remarked, shaking her head. She sliced a piece from the large slab of roasted meat in front of them and then smothered it in spicy, hot sauce. "This is Tier 20 Kanima meat. Want to try some?”

Aodhán's gaze darted from the delicious-looking meal to his suspicious partner, trying to resist her tempting offer, but in the end, he failed and extended his plate. “I've never eaten a Kanima before.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Fortuna's grin widened as she cut out another portion of meat, dipped it in hot sauce, and placed it on his plate with a florish, somehow making the mundane act seem mystical.

“So, tell me about the 5th academy.” She asked as he dug into his meal, but before he could respond, raucous laughter erupted from the head of the table, where the baron, the celebrant, and a few other distinguished guests were seated. Their laughter filled the air with a merry din that tugged at Aodhán's lips and caused him to relax slightly. He turned his attention back to Fortuna and shrugged. “There isn't much to tell.”

“I doubt Andrew shares your opinion.” Fortuna snorted, glancing over at Daruk and Andrew, whose gazes were fixed on them like hawks as they whispered hurriedly between themselves. Whatever they were saying, Aodhán couldn't hear over the din that filled the room, but it was obvious that Daruk was worried for him.

Fortuna ignored their gazes and continued. “He had so much to talk about when he returned last week that it took a considerable amount of effort not to cut my ears off.”

Fortuna chuckled, and Aodhán even cracked a smile. Andrew could be so bubbly and enthusiastic some times that it was usually hard to imagine him as a brutal and efficient warrior.

Still, Aodhán chose not to respond, choosing to take a large bite of meat instead. He chewed slowly, taking his sweat time.

Fortuna sighed. “Come on, humor me.”

Aodhán knew what she was doing. It was the same tactics principal Zatya had employed at first. She was trying to make him lower his guard and get him comfortable before pouncing.

Aodhán glanced at her, and after a brief moment of contemplation, he decided to humor her. He told her about the tournament, the classes, gym exercises, awakened advancement theory, and even the simulation exercise. They spoke for almost fifteen minutes, with Fortuna listening intensely even though she'd just confessed to hearing the entire story from Andrew a hundred times already.

Fortuna's frustration became obvious after another ten minutes of random, unimportant talk about the difficulties of runic theory.

Aodhán barely held back a smile as he watched her jaw tick again. He understood her frustration; in fact, a part of him even feared the consequences of his actions, yet he refused to say a word about Varéc. After another five minutes, Fortuna had finally had enough, and she snapped. “Enough! If you're trying to bore me to death, I can assure you that you're succeeding.”

Aodhán shrugged, pretending to be clueless as to the cause of her ire. “You asked about the academy.”

“Yet, you're no fool, Aodhán Brystion.” Fortuna glared at him. “You know what I want to hear about. You're being purposefully evasive.”

Aodhán shifted awkwardly, and they lapsed into a strained silence, albeit surrounded by laughter, as a man, dressed in clownery attire, juggled a dozen runic balls with his eyes closed and performed several tricks that could be easily explained by a combination of spatial, time, and displacement affinities. Nevertheless, it was fun, and Aodhán soon found himself enjoying the show.

After he was done with the meat, Aodhán helped himself to a bowl of salad and seasoned shrimp. He dipped the latter in a bowl of hot, spicy sauce and grinned when Fortuna frowned in disgust.

The silence between them stretched for another fifteen minutes before Fortuna spoke again. “You know, there are several advanced-class individuals who have bonded a familiar despite lacking the supposed 'mental fortitude' required to do so.” Her gaze darted first to her mother and then to Commander Hadjen before she smiled. "Astounding, isn't it?”

Aodhán grimaced, disappointed that they had somehow managed to circle back to the very conversation he was trying to avoid.

“What I'm trying to say is that cultivation is the act of doing the impossible.” She continued when he gave no response. “It is a defiance of the heavens. Hundreds of years ago, flying cars were deemed impossible, and now they're our reality.” She frowned. “The word impossible is a shackle that I choose not to wear.”

Aodhán glared at her and let out a deep breath. “I don't understand where this conversation is going.”

Fortuna chuckled and leaned forward. “Did you know that the legend, Von Amyl Argent, had an icon at the evolved class? An impossibility in the world today.”

Aodhán glanced up sharply, surprised. He hadn't known that, and all the books he'd read on Von Amyl hadn't mentioned it either.

“I see you're surprised to hear it.” Fortuna shook her head. “It's no surprise though; after all, Lutia is the continent of secrets.”

Aodhán's mind flashed to the Attilan continent, and he grimaced. “Okay, I still don't see what all this has to do with me. What do you want?”

“For you to trust me.” Fortuna replied simply, and Aodhán snorted. “Hell will freeze over before I make such a foolish mistake.”

Fortuna frowned, not getting his ‘hell’ reference, yet she was smart enough to understand what he meant. “Well, good for you. I wouldn't trust me either.”

Aodhán blinked, his face twisting into a mask of confusion. “You want me to trust you, yet you advise me not to.”

“It's quite the conundrum, isn't it?” Fortuna shrugged. “But what is life if not a long list of things we shouldn't do yet can't help but crave?”

Aodhán frowned. “You're not as wise as you seem to think you are.”

“So, many have said.” She smiled and downed a glass of sparkling wine. “That doesn't mean I'll give up, though.”

Aodhán sighed. “Can you please go straight to the point?”

Fortuna turned, her smile disappearing as she focused squarely on him. “The point is, I want to know about your familiar. How an evolved class awakened like you managed to succeed where countless others have failed. I want to know how you managed to do the impossible and whether I can do the same.”

Aodhán gritted his teeth and glanced around to see more than a dozen heads suddenly turn in their direction. Despite the noise in the hall, the subject of a familiar was one that most people were interested in, and like a beacon, it called the attention of dozens. Aodhán shook his head and was just about to deny her when his gaze landed on Tyrus Hadjen, and a thought suddenly came to mind.

He mulled over the idea for a moment before turning back to Fortuna. “Fine, but we can't talk here. Too many eyes and ears.”

Fortuna glanced around too, and when she noticed the attention their conversation had drawn, she stood up, pushed her chair back, and said to Aodhán. “Come on, then, let's find somewhere more private to speak.”

The gazes of the eavesdroppers morphed into glares, most of them directed at Fortuna, but she ignored them all and pulled him away from the banquet table.

Eyes followed them, although the conversations and laughter never stopped, and when Aodhán found Daruk's worried gaze, he shook his head to explain that he was fine.

Daruk didn't seem convinced, but at least he wasn't bolting out of his seat in worry.

Fortuna led them out of the hall, taking so many twists and turns that Aodhán was sure he would get lost if he ever tried to make his way back on his own.

They walked in silence for almost ten minutes before Fortuna gently tapped a staccato rhythm on the walls of a plain-looking hallway, and the vines receded to reveal a fairly spacious room filled with nature and life essence. Thick vines covered the walls and roof, leaving only the floor bare. Runes peeked out from between the mesh of vines, and a glowing crystal hung from the ceiling, filling the room with verdant light.

“This is my cultivation chamber.” Fortuna whispered, staring at the room with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. She turned back to him and smiled. “Trust me, nothing you say here shall ever leave this room.”

Aodhán snorted, not quite sure he believed the eccentric woman, but he had decided to do this, and there was no going back. Still, Aodhán stayed silent, turning around to take in the room until Fortuna spoke again. “You are very aggravating. Do you know that?”

Aodhán grinned. “I've been called that once or twice in the past few weeks.”

“So, it's not a new development, then?”

Aodhán thought back to the monks and shook his head, chuckling. “I very much doubt it.” He stared at the verdant corona for a moment, somber, before he spoke up. “I can't tell you how I bonded Varéc.” Fortuna tried to protest, but Aodhán spoke over her. “I can tell you anything else except how.”

Fortuna glared at him, discontented, but after a moment, she sighed. “Then I'll settle for all that you can tell me; perhaps I'll gain a thing or two from it.”

Aodhán nodded and said. “I'll tell you my experience with Varéc; in fact, I'll even show him to you, but before I do so, I have two conditions.”

Fortuna frowned and observed him closely before speaking. “What are your conditions?”

Aodhán created a chair for himself and sat down. “I require an explanation about a class scaling skill I just got, and the second condition concerns Lieutenant Tyrus Hadjen.”