The Instructor of Magic: Celly!

When he tried asking Irene about her homeland, the girl didn't seem to remember anything. The fact that she was from such a mystical land made him more interested in her, though.

Julius and Treyna tried asking her as well, but Irene simply didn't seem to remember anything before being taken away by the traffickers. It was a much more widespread issue than he had initially though, mistakenly believing the actions of the traffickers were limited locally.

…This world has its own share of corruption. All around the world, children are taken away like that–sold to the highest bidder. With adventurers being plentiful in every land, it's helped reduce the numbers as parents usually pay to establish a quest to find their missing child, but…it's only a band aid solution, he thought.

[Present]

"It's written like…this," he said.

Sitting beside her at the desk, he used the quill to display the proper way to write the letter for the young girl with long, but curly locks.

"...Oh, like…this?" Irene asked, writing it for herself.

"Yeah, you've got it," he nodded with a smile.

Irene smiled as well; it wasn't a bad experience for himself, either. Being able to go over the common language again cemented it for him once more.

"You like reading a lot, don't you?" Irene asked while practicing her writing.

While he was sitting beside her as she did her busywork, he had a pale-red book open in front of his eyes.

"I do," he nodded, "Why do you ask?"

"...Well, I just don't know what's so interesting about it. I've never been able to read a book myself…" Irene looked down.

He stopped for a moment, closing the book as he looked up towards the ceiling. There were a lot of reasons why he read, but he wanted to find one answer that was all-inclusive to his intentions.

Part of it for me is simply disbelief. Or I guess…confirmation. I doubt this world is artificial, and these books almost prove it to me–I mean, these are written by real people in this world. Some of it is beautiful–this…isn't something you could just program into a machine. In these words…you can read the human spirit off of those pages, he thought.

He ran his fingertips along the bumpy cover of the book he held, looking down at it with a soft smile.

"Someday, I want to explore this world. I've already started planning it," he told her, "once I'm old enough, I'll become an adventurer so I can do it. I might not make much money at first, but it'll be enough. I'll stay on the move–I'm sure I won't have any problem finding quests to take, even if it's chasing chickens or slaying goblins."

"--" Irene looked at him in awe.

"It's amazing–this world, Arcadius…There's so much out there. I want to visit every kingdom–and not just the ones on this continent; the elven continent, the demon continent, and even the pale lands. I want to see it all," he told her with a glint in his eyes.

Such words interlaced with his heartfelt conviction made Irene smile as well as she leaned on the desk, looking up at him.

"So, do you read so you can learn about where you want to go?" Irene asked.

"Something like that," he said with a bashful smile, "It's the next best thing before I get to see it for real."

"--" Irene looked at him before staring forward, "...I want to see my homeland, too. With my own eyes."

"You can," he told her.

Irene simply smiled and nodded before they continued their studies together. The young girl was surprisingly bright, and quick to learn; she was around his age, but her ability to pick up on written information allowed for a seamless learning process.

Sitting beside the girl, whether they were studying or playing, he finally achieved one goal in this life–

"Make a friend."

–

One evening, while he was cleaning the room he shared with Irene, a knock came to the front door.

He and Irene looked at each other for a moment before he started moving towards the hall.

"I'll get it," he told the blue-haired girl with a smile.

As he ventured to the front door, he opened it to find a youthful woman waiting on the other side. She was dressed in oak-brown robes that were lined with verdant fur. If it wasn't clear enough by the large, pointy hat she wore atop her head of lengthy, silver hair, the wooden staff she wielded made it obvious:

A mage, he thought.

"Greetings. Is this the Dragonheart residence?" The young woman asked with a gentle smile.

She didn't look to be any older than her mid-teens, looking down at him with her soft, emerald irises. Though she was small herself and of a lithe build, the girl stood a full head taller than him.

A demure white skirt stayed just above her knees, leaving a lot to the imagination of the young boy, who looked her up and down.

As he nodded, he found both of his parents already standing behind him with giddy smiles, as if expecting this unknown visitor.

The girl bowed her head kindly, "Well met. I am Celly Van Strezzhume, a grand-class mage."

As she gave her name and rank, the autumn wind brushed by, prompting the girl to hold her large hat in place with her fingers.

It was then with her polite introduction did he begin to piece it together with eyes full of awe. His suspicions were confirmed from the girl's mouth as she extended her pale hand down to him.

"You must be Emilio. Your parents said some very kind things about you in the letter," Cellia told him, "Starting today, I'll be your tutor in the art of magic."

"Tutor…?"

Repeating what he heard, his eyes lit up as he felt a pat on his shoulders from the firm hand of his father, who smiled down at him.

"A promise is a promise, right? You did your part with sword training, and now I'm doing my part," Julius told him.

"Just make sure to behave yourself, alright?" Treyna told him.

He nodded, "Of course."