"Lord Lucas, come on!" Amelia called, her small hand tugging eagerly at Lucas's sleeve as she urged him toward the hot air balloon. Her green eyes sparkled with uncontainable excitement, wide with the wonder of a child gazing at the endless blue sky. For Amelia, the balloon was more than a marvel of engineering—it was a promise of adventure, a chance to touch the heavens and feel the freedom she had lost long ago.
"Alright, alright, slow down," Lucas said with a warm chuckle, letting her pull him along. His heart softened at the sight of her enthusiasm. Amelia, the girl his soldiers had found abandoned, had become his adopted daughter, a precious part of his life. Her rare displays of joy, like this moment, were treasures he cherished. He hoped this experience might help her open up, perhaps even share fragments of the painful past she kept locked away.
They reached the bamboo basket, its sturdy weave a testament to the elderly carpenter's skill. Lucas stepped inside with a steady stride, then turned to help Amelia climb aboard. Before he could offer his hand, she moved with the agility of a young deer. Gripping the basket's edge, she vaulted inside with a nimble flip, landing lightly on her feet. Lucas blinked, then let out a fond laugh. He sometimes forgot how capable she was—trained as an assassin before his soldiers rescued her, Amelia's small frame belied a strength and grace far beyond her years.
"All ready," Amelia said, looking up at him with a grin. Her usually guarded expression softened, a spark of mischief functionality in her eyes as she caught his surprised look. It was a rare glimpse of the child she might have been, unburdened by her past.
"Good job," Lucas said, ruffling her hair affectionately. Amelia's unpredictability kept him on his toes, but he welcomed it. She was a puzzle, but one he was determined to understand, not as a challenge to conquer, but as a father seeking to guide his daughter. He turned to the elderly carpenter nearby and called, "Release the rope."
"Yes, my lord!" The carpenter replied, his voice filled with respect. He hurried to untie one of the ropes anchoring the balloon to a heavy stone, his hands steady despite the weight of the moment.
"Hold on tight, Amelia," Lucas said gently, his tone carrying the quiet authority of a parent. He pushed the bellows, and the flames in the basket flared brightly, casting a golden glow over them. The hot air balloon trembled, then began to rise, its ascent slow and graceful as it lifted from the earth.
As the balloon wobbled and left the ground, the crowd below held their breath. Mina's body stiffened, her eyes fixed on Lucas and Amelia with a mix of awe and worry. Her ears twitched, and her hands clenched tightly, as if she could keep the balloon aloft through sheer will. The thought of an accident—especially with Amelia, the young girl they all adored—made her heart race.
"Mina! Mina!" Annie squealed, grabbing Mina's arm with both hands. Her fox ears quivered with excitement. "The Young Master and Amelia—they're really going up into the sky!" Her voice was a mix of nerves and glee, her brown eyes wide as she watched the balloon climb.
"Y-Yes, they are," Mina replied, her voice tight. She swallowed hard, silently praying for their safety. Please, let them be okay, she thought, her gaze glued to the swaying basket.
"It's… it's incredible," Elisa murmured, a hand pressed to her lips. Her emerald-green eyes shimmered with wonder, reflecting the balloon's ascent. The sight was a revelation, challenging everything she knew. Humans soaring without wings? It was a miracle, and Lucas's role in it made him seem larger than life—a father not just to Amelia, but to the dreams of everyone in Sedona City. His vision, his care for the girl he had taken in, wrapped him in an aura of quiet heroism.
"We did it! It's flying!" The elderly carpenter cried, his voice breaking with emotion. He wiped tears from his face, staring at the balloon with a mix of pride and disbelief. The months of labor, the endless doubts, had culminated in this moment of triumph.
"Quick, spread the canvas!" Henry roared, directing the workers to lay out a hemp sheet below as a safety net. His broad frame was tense, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. If anything happened to Lucas or Amelia, the consequences would be dire. The people of Sedona City adored their lord and any harm to him could spark chaos. Henry's heart pounded at the thought.
While the ground buzzed with tension, the basket was a haven of quiet joy. Lucas worked the bellows occasionally, keeping the flames steady. The balloon had climbed to over fifty meters, held in place by a single rope tied to a stone anchor. Going higher risked drifting beyond the valley, and Lucas wanted this first test to remain discreet.
Hoo…
Lucas exhaled, his breath misting in the chilly air. The altitude brought a sharp cold, the wind nipping at their faces. He glanced at Amelia and found her gazing into the distance, her expression one of pure enchantment. Her green eyes were wide, drinking in the horizon as if it held all the answers to her unspoken questions.
"Does it remind you of flying?" Lucas asked softly, his voice warm with paternal concern. He reached out and gently patted her head, his touch grounding. He knew Amelia's past as a bird-beastkin, her wings once carrying her through the skies. Losing that freedom must have left a wound that still ached, and he wanted nothing more than to help her heal.
Amelia nodded, her small hands reaching out as if to touch the wind. "Back then," She said quietly, "I used to fly with Sister and my friends. We'd chase birds, hide in the clouds, dive off cliffs and spread our wings just before we hit the ground. It was… the best feeling. The sky was ours." Her voice trembled with nostalgia, painting a vivid picture of a childhood filled with laughter and fearless play. They would splash in rivers, weave through clouds, and race the wind. Now, confined to a basket, she stared at the sky she once called home, a pang of longing in her chest.
Lucas followed her gaze to the misty mountains in the distance. "How long until your wings grow back?" He asked, his tone gentle but curious, hoping to learn more about her kind.
"I don't know?" Amelia answered, turning to look at him. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, she hopped onto the narrow edge of the basket, balancing effortlessly despite the height.
Lucas's heart lurched, his eyes widening in alarm. "Amelia, get down!" He said sharply, his voice firm with fatherly worry. The basket's edge was only a few centimeters wide, and a gust of wind could send it swaying. If she fell, there would be no saving her. The thought of losing her was unbearable.
Amelia stood still, her arms outstretched as if embracing the sky. The wind tugged at her hair, and for a moment, she looked like she belonged among the clouds. She turned to meet Lucas's stern gaze, her eyes searching his. After a brief, silent exchange, she relented.
"Okay," She said softly, stepping back into the basket with a nimble hop. She stood quietly now, her earlier recklessness replaced by a shy obedience, as if sensing his concern.
Lucas exhaled, relief washing over him. "In a few days," He said, his voice softening, "I'll find a way to let you fly again, properly." He couldn't bear the thought of her taking reckless risks, her impulsive nature a constant worry. As her adoptive father, he wanted to protect her, but also to nurture her dreams. Giving her something to look forward to—a safe way to soar—felt like the best way to keep her grounded.
"Really fly?" Amelia's eyes lit up, and she stepped closer, her small frame practically bouncing with excitement. She reached out, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, her cheek pressing against his stomach. It was a rare, unguarded moment of affection, and Lucas's heart swelled.
"Whoa, easy there," He said, chuckling as he steadied her. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and he couldn't help but smile. "Yes, really. We can try something like glider wings—safe ways to glide through the sky." His mind turned to Earth's innovations. Glider wings were a mature, reliable technology, far safer than the daring gliding suits favored by thrill-seekers. Lucas himself was intrigued by the idea of flying, the wind rushing past as he soared. If he could share that with Amelia, it would be a memory they'd both treasure.
"Really?" Amelia pulled back slightly, her green eyes shining with hope. She leaned in, her face close to his, her expression a mix of excitement and trust.
"Yes," Lucas said, his voice warm and reassuring. He met her gaze, her emerald eyes bright and full of life. She was a remarkable girl, and he felt a surge of pride in being her guardian.
"Now?" Amelia asked, her voice eager. She bounced on her toes, barely containing her anticipation, her cheeks flushed with the cold and her excitement.
"Not yet, little one," Lucas said, gently ruffling her hair again. "We need to prepare the equipment first." He turned to add more charcoal to the fire, ensuring the balloon stayed aloft. The flames crackled, casting a warm glow over them.
Amelia watched him, her small hands clutching the edge of the basket. Then, with a sudden, earnest look, she spoke, her words catching him off guard: "Lord Lucas, will you always be my dad?"
Lucas paused, his hand still on the bellows. He turned to her, his expression softening. Her question was raw, vulnerable, a glimpse into the fears she rarely voiced. To Amelia, abandoned and alone until his soldiers found her, Lucas was more than a lord—he was her family, her anchor. He knelt slightly, meeting her at eye level, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Always," he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. "You're my daughter, Amelia, and I'll always be here for you."
Amelia's eyes glistened, and she threw her arms around him again, burying her face in his chest. Lucas hugged her back, his heart full, the vast sky above them a silent witness to their bond.
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