Chapter 55 – The Pinky Promise
Ethan finally broke the silence, his voice steady but quiet.
"We're leaving today."
The moment those words left his lips, Mary's smile faltered. Her little hands clutched the hem of her dress, and her eyes shimmered as though tears might spill any second.
"No… you're leaving?" she whispered, her voice small and trembling.
Before the sadness could fully overtake her, Lirael stepped forward. She bent down and swept the girl into her arms, holding her close against her chest. The faint scent of soap and lavender clung to Mary's hair, and Lirael pressed her cheek against it, her voice gentle.
"I'll miss you too, little one. But I promise—I'll come back to see you again."
Mary sniffled, her lip quivering. "Really?"
Ethan stepped in then, reaching out to ruffle her soft hair. He crouched to her level, his scarred hand surprisingly tender as it rested on her head.
"I'll come back too. That's a promise."
Mary blinked rapidly, trying to fight back her tears. Then, almost desperately, she held up her tiny pinky.
"Pinky promise?"
For a moment, Ethan just stared at her, lips curving into a rare, soft smile. Slowly, he hooked his rough, battle-worn finger with her small one.
"Pinky promise."
Her tears broke into a bittersweet laugh, a hiccuping sound caught between joy and sorrow. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and grinned through the wetness.
"Then I'll wait! I'll be right here waiting for you!"
The heaviness in the room seemed to lift, replaced with a fragile warmth.
Now it was Amelia's turn. Ethan and Lirael both turned toward her. Lirael spoke first, her tone bright despite the ache in her chest.
"Thank you—for everything. For letting us stay, for the warmth you gave us… and for feeding us so well. We'll miss you too."
Amelia chuckled, waving her hand dismissively, though her eyes betrayed the emotion she tried to hide.
"Bah, don't make it sound like some grand farewell. It was nothing. Just… take care of yourselves, alright?"
As she laughed, Ethan studied her quietly. The woman who had once seemed fragile and broken now stood tall, steadier than before. The weight of her past hadn't vanished, but something tethered her here now. That anchor… was Mary. He exhaled softly. She's stronger than she realizes. And Mary really is a good kid.
Just as the moment threatened to pass, Ethan's expression hardened slightly, as though something important had just come back to him.
"Amelia," he said, his voice carrying a gravity that silenced the air. "Listen carefully."
Her brows furrowed, sensing the shift.
"If anyone ever comes to your door asking about us, don't hesitate to tell them the truth. Just say we were travelers who happened to be your guests, that you gave us a place to stay for cheap. And if they ask where we're headed…" He paused, his eyes sharp, "…tell them the truth as well. We're going to Iridale. Don't try to hide anything."
Amelia blinked in surprise. "The truth? But… why?"
Ethan's gaze softened, but his tone remained firm.
"Because I don't know what kind of people they might be. If they have magic, some way of detecting lies… then if you try to protect us, it could put you in danger. I won't let that happen. Not after everything you've been through."
For a long moment, Amelia simply stared at him, then her eyes widened slightly in realization. She inhaled slowly, then nodded once, firmly.
"…Alright. I understand. I'll do exactly as you said."
Ethan held her gaze a second longer before giving a small nod of his own.
With that, the weight of farewells finally settled in. Lirael and Ethan exchanged a glance, then quietly excused themselves. Together, they walked back to their room, the wooden floor creaking beneath their boots. The air smelled faintly of the last meal Amelia had cooked, clinging like a memory.
Inside their room, the morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, spilling over the bed where their belongings were strewn. Lirael pulled the travel bag closer while Ethan began gathering their gear. The quiet rustle of fabric, the clink of steel, and the muffled thud of boots being set aside filled the air.
Their departure had begun.
The door shut behind them with a muted thud, and soon they were out in the open street. The morning air was cool and fresh, the sky brushed with pale gold where the sun crept over the rooftops. Amelia stood in the doorway, one hand resting on Mary's shoulder.
"Goodbye!" Mary shouted, her little arms flailing wildly as she waved.
Lirael turned back and waved with both hands, her smile soft, though her chest ached. Ethan gave a nod, his larger frame still for a moment as if he was memorizing the sight.
Mary's voice carried even as they walked further and further down the road.
"I'll wait for you! Don't forget the pinky promise!"
They kept waving until Mary's small figure was nothing more than a dot in the distance. Still, Lirael glanced back once more before finally facing forward, her expression quiet, lips pressed together.
It was then Ethan suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"Wait. Put the bags down for a second."
Lirael blinked, raising a brow. "What? Why?"
"Just do it." His tone left no room for debate.
She frowned, suspicion flickering across her face, but reluctantly slid her pack off her shoulders and set it on the dirt road. Ethan did the same, his eyes darting around as though checking for anyone nearby. The street was empty—only the whisper of the wind brushing against wooden shutters and the distant clatter of a cartwheel broke the silence.
Then Ethan raised his hand. With a casual flick of his wrist—
Fwip!
In an instant, all of their luggage vanished.
Lirael's eyes widened. "Wha—!" She spun toward him, her voice rising. "Subspace magic? That… that was subspace magic! And you did it barehanded?!"
A faint smirk tugged at Ethan's lips. "Blame my abnormal system."
Lirael's jaw dropped. "Without a catalyst, without a spell circle, without a storage artifact? Do you even realize what that means?!"
He gave a shrug, looking far too casual for what he had just done. "Means my cheat system spoils me, I guess."
She clicked her tongue, folding her arms, but the corner of her mouth betrayed the tiniest upward twitch.
"Tsk… you and your cheat system. If word got out, people would be clawing each other's eyes out to get their hands on you."
He chuckled, low and amused, brushing past her as he adjusted the strap of his now-empty shoulder.
"Good thing no one's around, then. C'mon—we'll move faster this way."
Lirael lingered a second longer, shaking her head in disbelief before catching up. The road stretched ahead, open and endless, the wind carrying the promise of a journey just beginning again.
The road twisted into a narrower street, shadows pooling between crooked buildings. At the far end stood a modest but sturdy-looking house—plain from the outside, but Ethan knew well enough what kind of dealings went on behind its doors. The faint smell of incense, heavy and cloying, wafted out through a half-open window, almost as if trying to mask the stench of chains and desperation that lurked within.
He drew in a long breath, squaring his shoulders. Then, with a glance at Lirael, he spoke quietly.
"Are you really sure about this?" His voice carried both reluctance and a tinge of worry.
Lirael halted, turning her head sharply to face him. Her eyes, silver like tempered steel, narrowed.
"How many times do I need to tell you?" she said, her tone cutting. "I will become your slave—yours, and yours alone. And I will not regret it. Ever."
Ethan winced slightly, the words striking harder than he liked. "I just… don't want you to feel forced—"
"Enough." She cut him off, stepping closer until he could see the faint tremor of determination in her gaze. "Don't make me repeat myself."
For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy but steady. Ethan let out a quiet chuckle, raising both hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay, milady. I won't ask again. Let's go inside."
"Hmph!" Lirael tossed her hair back with exaggerated pride, though a faint blush betrayed her composure. "We'll see if you can keep that respect even after I become your slave."
Ethan smirked, shaking his head as he pushed the door open.
---
Meanwhile, back at Amelia's house…
The house felt quieter than usual, the absence of her guests leaving a hollow stillness. Amelia moved about with a rag in her hand, dusting the edges of the wooden furniture in Ethan's room. The faint scent of their presence still lingered—steel polish, faint herbal soap, and the subtle warmth of lived-in space.
As she leaned over to straighten the bedding, her hand brushed against something tucked beneath the pillow. A slip of folded paper wrapped around a small object. Curious, she unwrapped it.
Her eyes widened the instant the glint of gold caught the light. A coin. Heavy, genuine. For a moment she simply stared, stunned, before unfolding the note that had been wrapped around it.
The handwriting was neat, deliberate.
> Thank you, Miss Amelia, for giving me the feel of home. I truly appreciate it.
And the little gift? Take it as my return for providing me with a cute little sister.
Amelia froze, the words blurring as her eyes stung. Slowly, her lips quivered into a smile, even as moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. She pressed the note gently against her chest, her voice trembling.
"…Thank you."
Her fingers brushed over the coin again, its warmth seeping into her palm despite its cold metal. She quickly wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve, steadying herself. But her smile lingered, faint and genuine, as the sunlight streamed through the small window, catching in her hair.
For the first time in a long while, the house didn't feel quite so empty.