Chapter 422 Morale Boost
Julius couldn't help but smile somewhat as he embraced his son, "You may be bigger than me now, but you're still my boy. Don't try to bear these burdens alone. I'm here for you. We all are."
"That's right," Celly added.
Everett gave a thumbs-up, "'Course! I've always got your back, Emilio!"
"We're family," Irene assured him.
"You guys…" Emilio said.
As he could feel the warmth of tears in his eyes, he was surprised as he felt another embrace from behind as another joined in the hug, making it a group hug with all of them.
The voice of the lightning-wielder filled his ears, "That's right! Family sticks together!"
"Uhhh…? Who's this guy?" Julius raised an eyebrow.
Emilio grumbled, glancing over, "Sirius…He's, uh, a…comrade?"
"Comrade?! Brother, that stings like a thousand needles!" Sirius feigned being shot in the heart.
"...This guy is a weird one," Everett muttered by Irene's ear.
Irene nodded, whispering in return, "Yeah, but…if he's a friend of Emilio, then I can't complain."
"Yeah, yer right," Everett agreed with a smile.
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The emotionally overwhelming reunion was put on pause as they all went inside the keep, which felt a thousand times more lively to the Dragonheart now that his friends and family had arrived.
"Aaaah…What a long trip," Everett yawned, slumping down on the bed in the guest quarters.
"We came in through a portal, though," Irene said.
"Stiiiiiii~ill," the burly shielder yawned some more.
Emilio sat beside Celly, helping her unpack her things into the room alongside Julius, who was sharpening his beloved sword.
"What did you guys do, when you know…" Emilio asked quietly.
The question drew silence for a moment between the others, but Julius chose to answer, looking down at his sword, "...Celly used her magic to survey Yullim–or what was left of it, I guess. She confirmed that your mother–Treyna, I…"
As he tried to speak of it, the man choked up as tears fell down on the blade sitting on his lap, unable to confirm it verbally.
Emilio almost found himself in tears again, though stayed strong as he felt his hand grasped gently by another, finding the lithe fingers of the half-elf archmage comforting his trembling digits.
Julius continued, sniffling as he wiped his face, "That lady–Excelsior, she explained it to us. She did, but it's still hard to understand."
What Emilio wondered then is just what Excelsior did tell his loved ones; it was something he hadn't considered until just then.
'Did she tell them about…reincarnators? That I'm originally from another world?' He questioned.
"There's others like you, apparently," Julius said, "champions of their bloodlines–it's not just the Dragonhearts. Those despicable criminals–the "Children of Chaos" or what-have-you. They want you. Too bad. They won't get you. Not over my dead body."
Though the words from the father came out as protective over his son, the truth of those bubbling emotions was heard, interlaced with those bitter utterances: what Julius sought was vengeance for his beloved.
"...I won't get a proper night's rest until they're gone. Not until you're safe. Not until Treyna is avenged," Julius promised quietly.
"We'll get them," Emilio added, nodding to his father, "For mother."
A hug was shared between the father and son of the Dragonheart bloodline before everybody finished settling into the Cerulean Keep. All of their rooms were kept close, and the hammer-headed butler made sure to explain the general information of the unique temple.
After a while, he found himself able to talk to Celly alone, standing by the doorway to her room as he saw her storing some of the books she brought with her.
Knock. Knock.
He lightly tapped his knuckles against the doorway to let her know he was there, receiving a smile from the emerald-eyed half-elf.
A small smile returned as he walked in, looking around at the marble room, which was outfitted with luxurious items, "Isn't this place totally awesome…and weird?"
"I guess I'd put it that way," Celly replied, "It definitely is an adjustment."
Her words brought him to what he wanted to talk to her about in the first place, sitting beside her on the silk-sheeted bed as he looked towards the walls.
"...You didn't have to come here, you know," Emilio said.
"Hm?"
"I know how busy you are–how passionate you are with your work and studies. I feel like it was wrong of me to even have Excelsior ask you to come–I took advantage of your kindness," Emilio said, feeling guilty as he looked down, "I'm sorry."
While looking at his own hands as silence filled the room after his heartfelt, truthful words, he awaited a bitter response, however–
"--!"
A softness met his arm; a warmth that immediately made his heart throb–BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. To his surprise, he found his arm being hugged onto by the silver-haired woman; the archmage he had grown to respect throughout the years was right there by his side, leaning against him.
However, as he himself could admit, what was once solely respect and admiration had blossomed into something else; through his years of training and studying, growing into a man himself–there was something else he felt.
"Celly…" He quietly said, looking down at the short, silver-haired girl that held onto his arm, surprised at the sudden action.
"You still don't understand by now, do you?" Celly spoke softly, almost in a whisper.
"Understand?"
"I'm not some stranger that needs incentive to help you, or expects favors owed. It was never that way. You may think your talent with magic is what separates you, but it's not. It's your perseverance and kindness. It's something you taught me, but you didn't realize it. Before I met you, I was meek and unable to defend myself or others–to reserved to act, even if I had the means to do so," Celly said, "You're somebody that I don't want to just watch as you do great things, but I want to stand beside you as you do, helping you where I can. So, of course I'd come here for you. Emilio, you're amazing."
The words spoken straight from the heart of the silver-haired woman brought him to a pause as he finally heard the truth from her lips; a truth that reflected what he felt towards her as well. Though part of him wanted to tell her the feelings that had recently been welling up inside of him, he knew it wasn't the time for that sort of thing–not during the war against the Children of Chaos brewing in the shadows.
Still, those words impacted him more than he thought as he sat there quietly, feeling her leaning against him as a warmth ran through his body, from the tips of his fingers to his toes, bringing a slight blush to his cheeks before tears welled up.
What immediately flooded his mind were his failures; the death of his friend, the fall of his mentor, and the sacrifice of his kin. Such events he felt could be avoided if he was better–if he was worth it.
'...Even after how much I've failed–after what happened in Yullim, she can say that with so much faith in those words? I…' He thought.
Though his initial thoughts lingered in the failures he had accumulated in his life, thinking of what the half-elf told him, his memories instead brought him to something else as he sat there: the good he had done; those he had saved; the relationships he had forged.
From overcoming the nefarious human trafficker, Oswell, and helping the slum-dwelling girl, Reno; fighting alongside the Verma clan and defeating the savage Outriders; facing the Unending Nightmare and bringing salvation to Melisande; even using his own life to bring an end to the Dread.
Remembering these moments and how he felt accomplishing such things, he almost cried right there and then–even with restraint, quiet tears trickled down his cheeks. Swallowed in self-deprecation since the loss of his mother, he was finally able to look at himself from another point-of-view, finally realizing that he was not a "net loss" by being alive.
'I've…done good. I've tried my best, haven't I? It still hurts. It still feels like everything is my fault but…I can make it,' he thought.
"--"
There weren't any words spoken further between him and the half-elf as they sat there, though none had to be spoken; he enjoyed the company and comfort that Celly provided when hugging close to his side.
"Ssshhuu…"
Hearing soft, quiet breaths, he looked down to find that the silver-haired girl's eyes were closed; she had peacefully fallen asleep by his side.
A smile appeared on his lips before he subtly and carefully moved away while helping the slumbering girl to lay down properly on the bed. Pulling a blanket over her, he took his leave.
There was a newfound surge of motivation found in the youthful man as he, too, chose to designate himself to his bed.
'When I have everybody here, I feel ten times stronger,' he thought.