Spoiler: OOC Hi! This is long :) TL;DR - Arntyr graduated and has been aged up accordingly :) Spoiler: Tune: The Celebration The halls filled with festive music as the storm that battered against the sturdy stone walls was relented from the warmth that spread across the fortress. Members and friends of the Tempetyr family alike danced, drank, and jested amongst each other during the joyous celebration held deep within the high mountains of Kintyr. A young man stood alone, watching the dancing with a faint smile on his features. He had grown much in the past four years and made at least a couple of friends in that time. One of such came bouncing up, a bright smile on her face. “Arntyr! Arntyr. SPARKY!" She said, grabbing onto his arm. A shock traveled down his arm to her hand, one of a very, very weak static nature. He let out a sigh as his attention was brought to her, snapping out of his state of idle watching. He looked down at her, a giggle emitting from the woman. “This party is GREAT, I think I even saw your dad and uncle smiling at the same time.” She jested, releasing his arm once his attention was firmly grasped. He let out a hum, replying after a moment. “Same time, hm? My-my, we’re lucky then.” He responded, crossing his arms over his chest. He went back to comfortably leaning against the wall, gaze scanning over the celebration hall. “It feels good to see this place so full, really.” He said, seeming rather approving of the gathering at hand. The chipper woman nodded, giving brief jazz hands before speaking. “And this place is HUGE! I mean I almost got lost earlier, it was nuts. It’s great you guys can upkeep it so well.” She said, before looking around. “Oh! Come with me, we’re getting drinks. C’mon, c’mon.” She said, grabbing him by the wrist to lead him over to some kegs, where Aldair and Azrael resided. Azrael smiled, reaching out to ruffle up Arntyr’s hair as if such wasn’t already a mess enough. He let out a quiet chuckle before he spoke. “How’s the party treating you son? Get tired of the crowds yet?” He asked, the joke evident in his tone as he brought him to a side hug, Arntyr pushing away after a moment, a half-smile on his own features as he straightened out his shirt. He thought for a moment, an amused sigh leaving him. “Not yet, so we can count that in our blessings of the night. Someone decided to socialize me a tad more.” He said, offering Avael a sidelong glance as he spoke. She crossed her arms, her expression that of feigned, joking pride. Aldair let out a rumbling hum, glancing down at the pair. He seemed somewhat entertained by their antics, judging by the older knight’s hint of a smile. The smile soon faded however as the mentor’s stormy gaze soon fell upon his once-Squire. He motioned his head to the side, starting off with a clear of his throat. “We’ll be back,” Aldair uttered before stepping off without waiting for a response, Arntyr turning to follow him through the halls. Spoiler: Tune: Through the Halls The blizzard outside being the key reminder of where they were, the windows unable to be peered through to see the distant pass below. Aldair came to stop, turning to the other in front of the largest of said windows. Aldair’s cape shifted with his form, the ruffling of the fabric being one of the few sounds besides the howling wind and distant sounds of celebratory music. Arntyr looked up at him, lips pressing into a line as he awaited his uncle’s words. “The past few years have sure been a lot, hrmn?” He asked, the young man quirking his brow at the choice. Aldair leaned on the windowsill, a half-smile on his features. Arntyr sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned on the opposite end. He shut his eyes, chuckling. “It’s… Been something alright.” He said, glancing out the window. “Interesting would be a fitting word, I’d say. Though more would fit the Crown Isle at this point.” He continued, finding his spot here comfortable as the storm continued unrelentingly outside. Aldair chuckled at the response, nodding in idle agreement. “It’s always a new adventure in Regalia… You grow to love it, though.” He said, watching out the window. “However, I figure you already have grown such a kinship with it and its people?” He said, gaze shifting momentarily to Arntyr as he asked. Arntyr let out a hum of thought, before something akin to a shrug mixed with a nod, a faint smile gracing his features. “Yes, I suppose that is the case. I’m glad you decided to bring me there, I gained skills I wouldn’t have anywhere else really.” Arntyr spoke up after a moment, looking about the warmly lit hall they stood in. Aldair’s form crackled with electricity, the man’s calm voice responding. “You’ve come a long way, Arntyr. Don’t doubt that. You’ve made a lot of people proud tonight.” He explained, allowing the conversation to naturally dim out like the torches. Eventually, the pair left, off to other places where their kin dwelled in the celebratory goings-on of the evening. Spoiler: Tune: Midnight’s Bonfire The winter flurries fell gently upon the parapets of the frozen fortress, nestled deep within the mountains of the Amlwch. It was a quiet January night, and the ice-laden warriors housed within the stone walls were huddled around the fireplace. One, clad in shining silver armor adorned with angelic features waved his hand, causing the crackling fire to roar into something akin to a bonfire, bathing the dim room with a bright light. A young woman, sorely out of place amongst the entourage of armor and weapons murmured a word of thanks at the gesture, moving closer to the flames that lapped at the edges of the fireplace. As for the rest of the gathering, next to the silver-plated warrior stood the second Knight. Shorter than the former, his armor was adorned by a cape that shrouded his left shoulder and arm, several silver clasps holding the weathered cyan implement in place. He rested a hand upon the shoulder of the third, and shortest of all the knights; who’s figure crackled with electricity at the touch. The armor of this particular man was easily the newest, devoid of the scratches and signs of age that the other two wore proudly. Battle-scars, they always called them, rather wear them on their armor than on their own form. Arntyr issued out a sigh, coming to Avael’s opposite side as he watched her shiver to sit down. A crackle of energy flowed over him, dawning his helm all the while as he glanced down at her, then to the other two. He cleared his throat, speaking. “Oh, the adventures that’ll come, hm?” He said, glancing up and around the dark corners of the bastion they resided in, most others asleep within the guest bedrooms while the small group trudged on into the deep hours of the night. “Though then again, feels like they already started long ago.” He continued, watching the fire crackle in its brilliance. He thought back in his memory, the past fourteen years of his life coming back to him in a collective blur. The trials he lived through, the secrecy he and so many others hid in at such a young age for how they were born. Looking back upon the past four years, how far he’s come yet how much more he has to go. This, instead of bringing him any sort of dread, brought to the young man a sense of hope. In the cold, a warmth deep within graced his soul to which brought the fire further to life, reflecting his own contemplation within. Oh, the time that’ll come. Further pain, though blessings as life so happen to continuously bring. He’ll be ready for it. He has to be. Spoiler: OOC Credits Co-written and proofread by @AshenRoman Thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of this family and grow and develop this character!
