Interlude: ?? Familia
Trellis was quiet in the mornings. That suited him just fine.
The fields beyond the village were shrouded in mist, silver veils stretched across golden soil. A wooden fence lined the edge, and he'd found himself there for the fourth morning in a row—leaning on the rails like some idle laborer with nowhere else to be.
He wasn't idle, but he was observing.
The young man was there again, alone in the open, moving through a brutal routine with grim focus.
On the first day, he'd figured it was just a desperate rookie—maybe someone trying to impress the Guild or work off some mistake. But even then, there was something strange in the way he moved. Sloppy, yes. But relentless. No cheering. No waiting. Just push-ups. Sit-ups. Bodyweight squats. Jogging until his body failed him.
It was a coincidence he saw the young man again on the second day.
Burpees. Lunges. Mountain climbers. Hill sprints until he crumpled, then walked back down and did it again. The tempo was unreasonable. Reckless. Painful.
On the third day, he stepped it up—four full circuits: upper body, lower body, core. Plank holds. Jump squats. Explosive push-ups. He even lifted old wooden training weights borrowed from one of the town's retired adventurers. That old man chuckled at the effort, but didn't stop him.
And on the fourth morning, he returned once more.
Sandbags. Logs. Weighted carries. Push-pull circuits using crates. His shirt clung to a form that was already changing—faster than it should've been. He was tightening, hardening. Something inside him was catching fire.
The man watching leaned forward, elbows on the fence, silent.
He doesn't have a falna. He was sure of it. No divine blessing, no stats, no skills. That made it impossible. Normal people couldn't train like this. Not day after day. Not this hard. The body broke down. Collapsed. Demanded rest.
But this one—this one just kept moving.
It wasn't natural.
It was admirable.
By the time the sun broke through the clouds, painting the fields gold, the watcher rose to his feet and turned toward the road. His mind was already elsewhere.
He had seen something worth sharing.
This wasn't just a fool chasing a dream. It was a fire waiting for fuel.
He would return to Orario.
His goddess may want to hear about this.
——————————————————————
The cart rolled steadily along the packed dirt road, pulled by a pair of strong-bellied oxen, their hooves thumping with a dull rhythm. The adventurer sat on the back ledge, arms resting across his knees, eyes drifting lazily over the passing landscape.
Summer had colored the world in gold with sunshine. Fields swayed with budding crops, wildflowers burst like paint along the roadside, and the air carried the scent of damp soil and old bark. He passed shepherds herding long-fleeced goats, merchants towing carts of dried herbs, and once, a group of children racing through the grass, wooden swords in hand.
It wasn't a long journey—two and a half days, give or take—but he didn't rush. He watched. Thought. Remembered.
And then he saw it.
Far in the distance, past the rolling hills and forested borders, stood a pale silhouette against the sky.
The Tower of Babel.
Even from miles out, its presence dwarfed the world around it. Like a needle threaded through the heavens, piercing clouds and reaching higher still. No matter how often he returned, the sight always carved a hush into his chest. A divine marker. The symbol of the Dungeon—and of Orario itself.
By noon, the cart rolled into the city gates. Noise rushed to greet him: shouting vendors, iron wheels against stone, the shouts of adventurers boasting about their exploits. The smell of oil, sweat, and meat hit just as strong.
He passed familiar streets, narrowing alleys, and rows of tall, buildings until he reached the northern district—quieter, greener. The buildings here were older but well-kept, wrapped in flowering ivy and framed with wooden beams.
Finally, he reached home.
The Wheat Manor.
A large estate with terraced gardens overflowing with vegetables and herbs, fruit trees swaying along the outer walk, and a wide archway blooming with climbing roses. He gave a short wave to a few fellow familia members in the garden before stepping inside.
The manor smelled like fresh bread and earth. Always did.
His boots echoed faintly as he entered the wide stone hall, but he turned toward the familiar scent of food. The meal hall was warm, bustling with low chatter and clinking cutlery. He slid his tray down the line—roasted vegetables, steaming rice, pan-seared fish—and made his way to a quiet corner.
He'd only taken his first bite when someone plopped down across from him.
"Look what the plow dragged in," the man said with a smirk, pushing back a mop of sandy brown hair. "Thought you were gonna get lost watching grain grow again."
He chuckled. "Nice to see you too, Luko."
Luko leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "You've been gone a while. Trellis, right? How was the harvest?"
"Good. Crops are strong this year. Got the fields sorted early." He took a drink of water, then set the cup down. "But that's not why I came back early."
Luko raised a brow. "Oh?"
"There's someone there. An unaffiliated kid. Doesn't even have a falna."
"Then why bother?" Luko asked, already reaching for another bite.
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Because I've never seen someone work like that. Not just hard. But with purpose. And no one pushing him. Four days I watched—every day, every hour I could spare. The kid's breaking his body and rebuilding it from the ground up. No complaints. No breaks. Just sweat and fire."
Luko's chewing slowed. "Sounds like he's desperate."
"Maybe. But I think he's serious."
He leaned in now, voice low.
"I came all the way back to ask Lady Demeter myself. This kid…he's got potential. The kind that can't be ignored."
Luko studied him for a second. Then, with a half-shrug and a lopsided grin, he said, "Well damn. If you're saying that, I guess I better pay attention."
He smiled faintly, gaze drifting toward the manor's rear corridor. Toward the garden path that led to her solarium.
He'd go to her soon.
It may be time to sow something new.
——————————————————————
The man stood outside the solarium door, hand poised midair above the vine-carved wood. He exhaled slowly, inhaling the familiar blend of herbs and citrus drifting from within—rosemary, lemon balm, a hint of lavender. With two firm knocks, he announced himself.
"Come in," came the warm, melodic voice from beyond.
He stepped inside.
Sunlight bathed the solarium in golden hues, streaming through glass panes wrapped in flowering vines and leafy tendrils. Pots of blooming herbs hung suspended from beams, and the scent of earth and life permeated the air. At a wide desk of aged oak sat a woman—elegant, radiant, unmistakable.
Demeter-sama.
Her long auburn hair flowed over her shoulders in waves, adorned with tiny blossoms and herb sprigs. Olive-toned skin caught the sunlight like fresh clay under harvest light, and her amber eyes rose to meet him with a gaze that felt like the warmth of the summer soil itself. She wore a flowing white dress tied with a green sash, her presence equal parts grace and grounded strength.
"Ah, welcome back," she said with a soft smile. "Milos, isn't it?"
He bowed deeply. "Yes, Demeter-sama. I hope I'm not intruding. Are you free?"
"For one of mine? Always."
She gestured to the cushioned seat across from her desk. Milos sat, back straight, hands folded loosely.
"You've been gone for a stretch," she said. "Trellis is treating you well, I hope?"
"Well enough," he replied. "The fields are thriving. Summer has been gentle. The locals are in good spirits, and the planting finished ahead of schedule."
Demeter smiled as she traced a vine curling along her desk. "Lovely to hear. You're always thorough. And the people?"
"Healthy. Grateful," he said. Then, with a slight shift of tone, "But there's something else."
"Oh?"
Milos leaned forward slightly, his voice steady but marked with a note of conviction.
"I came across someone. A young man. Human. No familia. No falna."
Her brow lifted faintly. "And yet, you left your post to report this to me?"
"Yes," Milos said. "Because what I witnessed was not normal."
He took a breath. "For four days, I watched him train. Alone. No guidance. No weapons. Just his body, his will, and the dirt under his feet. He ran himself into the ground. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, full circuits, incline sprints. Then log carries, and more. Every day, more intensity."
Demeter blinked, intrigued.
"But here's the thing, Demeter-sama: a normal human body can't take that kind of punishment. Not without rest. Not without breaking down."
He shook his head slowly. "He should've been crawling by the second day. But he didn't slow down. He adapted. Improved. I could see it. His body changed fast. Sofast. And yet…no falna. No signs of divine favor. I checked."
Demeter rested her chin gently on her hand, her amber gaze sharpened with interest. "So, what do you think he is?"
"A mystery," Milos said. "But one with potential. And if that potential isn't nurtured, someone else will find him. A more aggressive familia. Or worse."
There was a silence between them, filled only by the soft hum of nature outside the glass.
Then Demeter stood, her dress brushing the stone floor like a ripple of spring wind.
"I wish to see him."
Milos blinked. "You…you wish to go yourself?"
She turned to face the window, looking toward the faraway hills. "Yes. If what you say is true, then this boy isn't just a curiosity. He's something rare. Something alive. I've long learned not to ignore such signs when they sprout."
She looked over her shoulder, smiling again. "Besides, I haven't left the city in far too long."
"I'll prepare your escort," Milos said, standing quickly.
"You'll be part of it," she said without pause. "You found him—you'll take me there."
"Of course."
"I'll submit a formal leave request to the Guild," she added, moving toward her writing table. "They'll approve it within two days. In the meantime, you'll make arrangements for our departure. We'll leave the morning after the paperwork clears."
Milos bowed, a trace of excitement behind his composed demeanor. "Yes, Demeter-sama."
She picked up her quill, the scent of lavender ink drifting through the room.
Her amber eyes lingered on the parchment before her, then flicked once more to Milos.
"And Milos?"
"Yes?"
"I'm proud of you."
He blinked. Then, with a nod, bowed once more.
"Thank you, my goddess."
And with that the man left, off to prepare for a recruitment.
Once she was alone…she spoke once more, her curiosity peaked.
"Oh child…what will you become, I wonder…"
——————————————————————
Demeter's sandals whispered over the sun-warmed stone of the street, her pace unhurried as she passed beneath awnings and blooming flower boxes in the upper district. Her fingers brushed along the edge of her satchel, more out of thought than habit. There was still time before her visit to the Guild—enough for a small detour.
The scent of rosemary and sizzling butter caught her attention first.
She smiled.
The Hostess of Fertility came into view just as the mid-morning breeze carried the scent of baked bread and garlic through the air. Demeter's sandals touched down gently on the threshold, and for a moment, she paused beneath the wooden sign swinging slightly overhead. Laughter and clinking cutlery filtered out through the open doors.
She smiled.
It hadn't been long since her last visit. But long enough to warrant a look-in.
She stepped inside.
The tavern was already filling—merchants, adventurers, townsfolk—all seated beneath low-hanging lanterns and painted beams. Sunlight cut in through the windows, catching on plates and half-filled mugs. The atmosphere was warm, busy… alive.
Her eyes swept the room once before they landed on a familiar figure moving with quiet efficiency near the bar.
"Lunoire."
The young woman turned at once. Her light brown hair was left hanging, and her expression shifted instantly—not to surprise, but to something softer. A warmth that didn't need a smile to be felt.
"Demeter-sama," Lunoire said, already making her way over.
They met near the entrance, out of the way of the rush. Demeter opened her arms and Lunoire stepped into a gentle embrace, brief but sincere. When they parted, Lunoire's posture was a little straighter, her eyes steady.
"I wasn't expecting you," she said, though her voice held no reprimand—only quiet happiness.
"I had a little time," Demeter replied. "And I wanted to see you. You're always working so hard."
"Hard work suits me," Lunoire said. Then, after a slight pause, added with a softer tone, "It's good to see you."
Demeter's eyes crinkled with affection. "And you. You're looking well. I see this place hasn't worn you down yet."
"It tries," Lunoire murmured. "But I'm stubborn."
"I'd call that strength."
Before Lunoire could reply, a deep voice rang from the back of the tavern.
"Lunoire! Unless that's your new post by the door, I suggest you move!"
"Yes Mama!," Lunoire called back, back straightened and with a slight flinch.
Demeter let out a quiet laugh. "She hasn't changed."
"She never does," Lunoire said under her breath, then turned to Demeter. "Will you be out in the city this evening?"
"I'm heading to the Guild shortly. I'll be submitting a leave request—may be gone a few days."
Lunoire's brows drew in slightly. "Something important?"
Demeter gave a knowing look. "Something… promising. I'll tell you about it next time."
"I'll hold you to that," Lunoire said, her voice softer now. "And be careful."
"I always am," Demeter said, reaching out once more to brush a hand gently along her child's arm. "Take care of yourself. And the others."
"I will."
With one last look—steady and filled with unspoken things—Lunoire turned back toward the bustle of the tavern, slipping into the rhythm of trays and orders and guests as though she'd never left it.
Demeter lingered a moment longer at the doorway, her heart warm.
Then she stepped out into the sun.
The Guild awaited.
——————————————————————
Demeter's sandals clicked lightly against the stone as she crossed into Guild Square, her pale dress fluttering in the breeze. The sun had risen high now, casting long shadows between the white pillars of Babel. She didn't rush, she didn't have to.
Then she saw a pair of goddesses.
Two familiar figures stood by the guild's front steps, deep in conversation. One tall and regal, wrapped in black and white, a shock of crimson hair tumbling past her shoulder like molten steel. The other, smaller in stature, animated and bouncing slightly on her heels, twin tails of raven hair swaying with each motion.
Demeter's smile widened.
"Hestia! Hephaestus!"
Both goddesses turned at the sound of her voice—Hephaestus with a blink, Hestia with a start.
Before either could speak, Demeter swept them both into a warm, sudden embrace, arms stretching easily to gather them close.
"It's been too long," she said with a soft laugh, releasing them after a beat.
"Demeter!" Hestia beamed, puffing up with energy. "You nearly startled me out of my sandals!"
"Hah. She always shows up like the blooming season," Hephaestus said, adjusting her collar. "Still stronger than she looks, too."
Demeter gave her a playful smile. "Oh, you're both as lovely as ever. What brings you here, hmm? Something important?"
"I'm registering my first familia member!" Hestia declared proudly, hands on her hips. "He's inside right now, getting his name into the Guild records!"
Demeter tilted her head, pleasantly surprised. "Ah? You finally found your first child?"
"That's right!" Hestia grinned, chest puffed. "His name's Bell! Bell Cranel! He's—he's got white hair, red eyes, and a pure heart, Demeter! He's the best!"
Demeter chuckled, clearly charmed by her enthusiasm. "Well then, congratulations, Hestia. I'm truly happy for you."
"She hasn't stopped talking about him since she barged into my home," Hephaestus added dryly, though the corner of her lips tugged upward. "I'm here to make sure everything's filed properly. She insisted on coming in person."
"It's important!" Hestia huffed, holding up a rolled parchment tied with blue string. "His status sheet is right here. It's official."
Demeter gave them both a nod of approval, but Hephaestus leaned slightly toward her.
"And what about you? You're not the type to wander this far into town without reason."
Demeter's expression softened. "I'm submitting a leave request. I'll be away from the city for a few days."
"Oh?" Hephaestus raised a brow. "Farm business?"
"Not this time," Demeter said. "A potential recruitment."
That got both their attention.
"A recruit?" Hestia asked, suspiciously narrowing her eyes. "They're not better than my Bell-kun, are they?"
Demeter laughed. "I haven't met him myself. But one of mine—Milos—returned early just to report what he saw. A young man. Human. No falna. And yet, training like a madman in the fields outside Trellis. Every day. Hours upon hours. No breaks. No encouragement. Just sheer determination."
Hephaestus tilted her head slightly. "No falna? And he's progressing?"
Demeter nodded. "Rapidly, from what Milos described. His body is changing fast. Too fast for a normal human without divine favor."
Hestia's brows twitched. Her mouth opened, then closed.
"Well," she finally muttered, folding her arms. "I bet he's not cuter than my Bell-kun."
Demeter smiled, amused. "I haven't seen him yet. But I'll be the judge of that."
"You'll see!" Hestia huffed. "Bell's gonna be amazing. You'll hear his name all over Orario one day!"
"I'm sure I will," Demeter said warmly.
Hephaestus chuckled under her breath. "I'd say it's good to see you two again, but now I know this will turn into a contest of who found the better child."
Demeter placed a hand gently on her chest. "I'm not here to compete. But I am curious. And hopeful."
Hestia softened just a touch. "…Hopeful's good."
The three goddesses stood there for a moment, the bustle of the Guild swelling around them, the sounds of the city filling the gaps between their breaths. For all their differences, their hearts were moved by the same thing—the quiet, growing light of something new.
——————————————————————
A few minutes after the trio resumed talking near the Guild steps, the doors swung open with a soft creak and out stepped a young man—slightly out of breath, eyes darting like a startled rabbit. His hair was white as new-fallen snow, tousled in every direction, and his red eyes flicked around the plaza with barely contained anxiety.
Hestia lit up immediately.
"There he is! Bell-kun!"
He blinked, spotted her, and smiled—a bashful, hesitant thing—but it glowed with sincerity. He made his way over, giving a small bow to Hephaestus as he passed.
Then his gaze met Demeter's.
She gasped softly, hand lifting to her cheek.
"Oh my…he's adorable," she said with warmth.
Bell froze slightly, eyes widening. "Um…h-hello…"
"This is Lady Demeter," Hestia said proudly. "And you already know Lady Hephaestus."
"Good morning!" Bell bowed quickly. "It's an honor!"
Demeter stepped forward, eyes twinkling. "And such lovely manners too. You're Hestia's first child, aren't you? What a sweet blossom you are."
Bell flushed redder than his eyes.
Hestia beamed, looping her arm around his. "He's the best! He even brought me back food on his first day. Isn't he precious?"
"Utterly," Demeter said, smiling warmly. "You've chosen well, Hestia."
"We're going to do great things together," Hestia said proudly. "Right, Bell-kun?"
He gave a nervous chuckle. "Hai! Kami-sama!!"
Just then, a passing Guild employee, a half-elf, gestured toward an empty booth inside.
"That's us!" Hestia chirped. "Come on, Bell-kun—we've got official familia stuff to finish!"
The pair slipped away, Bell casting one last bashful glance toward Demeter as he was pulled along. She watched them go, amused and genuinely pleased.
Hephaestus crossed her arms, watching the same sight. "He seems like a good kid."
"Indeed," Demeter said. "I just hope he'll be good for Hestia."
"She's been doing much better than when she first arrived in Genkai, and after I kicked her lazy butt out." Hephaestus muttered that last part.
The two fell into easy conversation, strolling slowly toward a nearby marble bench under a tree. There, Demeter produced a small wrapped parcel from her bag and offered a sweet dried fruit bar to Hephaestus, who accepted it with a grunt of thanks.
They talked idly—about seasonal crops, how Orario's bakeries were incorporating new grains, the quality of Forge-district street food (Hephaestus had strong opinions), and the recent rise in odd request forms filed to her children by rookie adventurers.
"So many want to 'get stronger fast' while also wanting the most expensive stuff," Hephaestus said with a roll of her eye. "Like the equipment is the only thing that will make them grow."
Demeter laughed softly. "Growth is patient. The foundations have to come first."
Before long, an aide in black approached, whispering something to Hephaestus.
"Time to go," she sighed, rising from the bench. "Got a forge visit, and Hestia wants me to keep an eye on her new home layout."
Demeter rose with her. "Of course. Thank you for the company."
Hephaestus gave a rare smile. "Anytime. Good luck with your…recruitment."
With a nod, she turned and departed toward the Tower.
Demeter waited a moment longer before turning and entering the Guild building herself.
——————————————————————
The inside of the Guild hall was a structured hum of activity—adventurers queued at counters, voices murmured, quills scratched paper. It didn't take her long to spot the one she was looking for.
At a side booth, a red-haired woman with sharp eyes and fur-tufted wolf ears was thumbing through a file with quick precision. She didn't look up as Demeter approached—until the goddess spoke.
"Rose Fannett, I presume?"
Rose's eyes flicked up, instantly alert. "Lady Demeter. What can I help you with?"
"I'd like to file a request for temporary leave. Out-of-city travel, at most a week or so. I expect to return within 7 days."
Rose's ears twitched once. "Purpose of travel?"
"Personal investigation. Possible recruitment."
Rose nodded briskly, already pulling out the necessary forms. "Any accompanying members?"
"Yes. Milos Telvic, level 2, shall be accompanying me."
The conversation was swift, efficient. Demeter appreciated it—there was something refreshing about Rose's unshakable focus. The werewolf advisor didn't waste words, and her eyes barely left the page as she asked questions, recorded responses, and double-checked identifiers.
After a few minutes, Rose slid the final page across the desk. "Please sign here. You'll be listed as out of district under divine authority. The Guild will forward messages to the designated contacts should anything arise."
Demeter signed without hesitation.
Rose took the form back and stamped it with a heavy thud.
"All set. You should receive the go ahead within 2 days. Safe travels, Lady Demeter."
The goddess nodded, smiling gently. "Thank you, Miss Fannett. Your efficiency is appreciated."
With the formalities concluded, Demeter turned and began making her way toward the Guild's main exit. Her fingers brushed the edge of her satchel, where Milos's report lay folded among a few seeds and parchments. Outside, the sun still shone bright—and somewhere beyond the walls of Orario, there was a seedling of stubborn will that was waiting to bloom.
And should the boy accept, Demeter, goddess of the harvest, was ready to help it grow.
Interlude 1 End