Chapter: Return

It had been three years since Zard and Mother Alfia came into my life. The days have been filled with warmth, laughter, and a sense of family that I never knew I needed. Yet, even with all the happiness around me, there was always this quiet ache inside. I still miss him—Belle. I wonder when he'll return.

I glance out toward the fields, where Zard and I are sparring. The sun is high in the sky, casting long shadows over the grassy expanse. Sweat glistens on our skin as we circle each other, the thud of wooden swords echoing through the air. Zard's movements are swift and precise. His eyes flicker toward me as he steps back, lowering his sword.

"You're distracted," he says, his voice sharp, though not unkind. "If this were a real fight, that could be fatal."

I nod, feeling a mixture of guilt and determination. "I know. I'll focus."

Zard watches me for a moment, before he shifts his weight to attack again. But this time, I'm ready. The sword feels natural in my hands, and I press the attack with a series of swift strikes. Every movement is fluid, controlled—instinctual, almost. It's not the first time I've sparred, after all.

The sound of our swords clashing fills the air, and I can see the surprise in Zard's eyes. He parries my strikes, but it's clear that I'm not the inexperienced novice I once was. I've improved. I've been trained well, and not just by anyone.

I remember the first time I met Zard. I was already good with a sword, much better than most people my age, but that's because I had Belle to thank. He had been the one to teach me the basics, to make sure I understood the form and the technique before I ever picked up a sword for real. He had shown me the ways of combat, refining my movements with his experience.

Back then, I was just a kid, awkward in my movements. But Belle's training had made me quicker, sharper. And now, Zard is seeing it firsthand.

"You've been trained well," Zard says, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You didn't pick up that skill from just anyone."

I pause for a moment, letting the words sink in. I don't respond, but inside, I feel a quiet pride. It's thanks to Belle. His lessons still guide me every time I pick up a sword.

Zard steps back and lowers his weapon, studying me with new interest. "You've come a long way. I didn't expect you to be this good when I first started training you."

"I've had a good teacher," I say, giving him a small smile. "But I still have a lot to learn."

Zard gives a nod of approval. "We'll keep pushing you. But remember, swordsmanship isn't just about strength. It's about discipline and focus."

I nod, understanding the weight of his words. I only wish Belle were here to see how much I've improved.

--

POV: Alfia

The evening air is calm, but the sudden knock on the door disrupts the quiet. A chill runs through me as I sense an unfamiliar presence on the other side of the door. This person is not someone I recognize, and my instincts tell me they're strong—too strong for an ordinary visitor.

I glance at Zeus, who's lounging casually by the table, seemingly unaffected. His relaxed posture contrasts sharply with the rising tension in the room. I can feel it; something's not right. I take a step toward the door, my hand ready to summon magic if necessary.

"Zeus," I say, my voice sharp. "Someone dangerous is at the door."

Zeus looks at me lazily, not understanding the urgency in my tone. But when I see the slight change in his expression, I know he's picked up on the shift in the atmosphere. He steps back, moving to hide behind the table as I approach the door, prepared for whatever might come.

As I open the door, a hooded figure stands before me, his face hidden in shadow. A powerful aura surrounds him, and I can sense that this is no ordinary person. My grip tightens on my magic staff, ready to act.

But then, the hooded figure slowly pulls back his hood, and my breath catches in my throat. Standing before me is a man with features so strikingly familiar, it's almost impossible to believe. His face looks so much like Bell's—no, it is Bell—but older, more mature. His hair has grown longer, now falling past his shoulders, and his expression is far more serious, though still carrying that same warmth I remember.

"Is Zeus here?" he asks, his voice calm and soothing.

Before I can respond, a voice from behind me calls out.

"Belle."

Zeus steps forward, his eyes wide with recognition, filled with a mix of surprise and joy. "Belle..." he whispers softly, stepping out from behind the table. His face is filled with disbelief. "You've come back."

I blink, still processing what I'm seeing. This man—this older Bell—is standing before me. But I'm confused. How is this possible?

I stare at him in shock. "Who is this person, Zeus?" I ask, trying to make sense of what's happening.

Zeus, however, calmly responds. "Wait, Alfia. Zard and Bell will be here soon. Let's not rush things."

I glance back at the door, still reeling from the sight of this man who looks so much like Bell, but older and more confident.

The man—Belle—looks at me quietly, his expression unreadable, but I can see in his eyes that he carries a weight far beyond his years.

--

As the door to the cabin slowly opens, Bell and Zard arrive, both stepping inside. Zard freezes for a moment when his eyes fall on Belle, who looks remarkably similar to Bell, albeit older. The resemblance is uncanny.

Zard, still taken aback by the unexpected sight of the older Bell, is momentarily speechless. His eyes widen, his thoughts racing as he tries to make sense of the situation.

But before he can say anything, Bell's gaze lands on Belle, and a wide, joyful grin spreads across his face. Overcome with emotion, Bell rushes forward and throws his arms around Belle in an affectionate, heartfelt hug. "Brother!" Bell calls out happily, his voice filled with warmth and relief.

Belle, slightly surprised at the sudden embrace, smiles down at Bell, his heart swelling with an indescribable feeling of connection.

Alfia watches the exchange, still in shock, trying to process everything. She looks to Zeus for answers, who simply nods with a knowing expression, gesturing for her to wait for an explanation. Zard, now recovering from his surprise, watches the two Bells closely, unsure of what exactly is happening but understanding that something important is unfolding before him.

--

Once everyone has settled into their seats, Zeus clears his throat, preparing to explain the situation. His voice is calm but carries the weight of the incredible tale he's about to share.

"Belle," Zeus begins, gesturing to the older version of Bell sitting before them, "appeared four years ago under very strange circumstances. At the time, we had no idea who he was or where he came from. He just… showed up."

Belle nods, his expression somber. "I was on my deathbed, dying from old age," he continues, his voice quiet but steady. "I thought my time had come. But then, suddenly, I found myself in a completely different place… right near the fields here."

Alfia and Zard are left speechless, their eyes wide with shock. The notion of time travel, of someone coming from the future, is almost too much to grasp. Alfia is the first to speak, her voice trembling with disbelief.

"You... you're saying you're from the future?" she asks, her gaze flicking between Belle and Zeus.

Belle looks at her and nods, his face serious. "Yes. I don't know how it happened, but I ended up here, in this time. I've been living with the knowledge that I'm not supposed to be here. And… I've been trying to change things for the better."

Zard, still processing the information, leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "This is… a lot to take in," he mutters, clearly shocked by the revelation.

Zeus watches them all closely, his own expression a mix of concern and understanding. "I know it's hard to believe. But everything that Belle has told us lines up with what we've experienced since he arrived. His presence here—his connection to Bell—has affected things in ways we still don't fully understand."

The room falls silent for a moment as Zard and Alfia process the information. The reality of Belle's arrival, and the fact that he's Bell from the future, is a truth too strange for them to easily accept, but the sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt.

Belle, noticing the stillness, adds with a faint smile, "I'm not here to harm anyone. I'm here to protect the people I care about—especially Bell. We've already had our fair share of struggles, but I need to make sure things turn out better for him in the future."

Zard and Alfia exchange a glance, their expressions a mixture of awe and concern. Though they can't fully comprehend the depth of what Belle is saying, they both realize one thing: the future of the Bell they've come to care for is something worth protecting.

With a deep breath, Zard nods slowly. "Alright, we'll help you in any way we can," he says, his voice firm. "But we'll need time to process all this. It's a lot to take in."

Alfia, still in shock, adds, "We'll need to think about everything carefully. But for now, I trust that you're here for a reason."

Belle smiles, grateful for their understanding. "Thank you," he says simply.

--

As Belle finished explaining his arrival from the future, the room fell silent. Alfia's sharp eyes narrowed, her usual calm demeanor masking the turbulent thoughts beneath. Zard leaned back in his chair, visibly trying to process everything he'd just heard.

Belle reached into his satchel and pulled out a set of vials filled with a shimmering, pale liquid. "I've brought these," he said. "They're medicines I developed. They'll counteract poisons and illnesses. It's not much, but they'll help you both."

Alfia's expression didn't change, though her gaze sharpened. "Medicine like this doesn't come easily," she said in a cold tone. "You expect us to trust it—just because you say it works?"

Belle met her icy stare with steady resolve. "I know you have no reason to trust me. But these are real. I've made them before, and I know they'll work. You're both crucial to Orario's future, and to Bell's. I won't let either of you succumb to anything I can prevent."

Zard smirked faintly, breaking the tension. "He's got a point," he said, picking up one of the vials and turning it over in his hands. "And it's not like we've got much to lose."

Alfia hesitated. Her fingers lingered over one of the vials before she finally picked it up, her movements deliberate and precise. "If this is a trick, I'll ensure you regret it," she said coolly. With one last glance at Belle, she pocketed the vial without a word.

Zard gave Belle a nod of approval, though his grin carried a hint of wariness. "Guess we'll see what your future knowledge is worth, old man."

Belle chuckled. "Old man? You've got that backwards."

Turning to Bell, Belle's expression softened. "How's your training been?"

Bell straightened up in his seat, grinning. "I've been keeping up! Zard's been helping a lot."

Belle's gaze shifted to Zard for a moment before returning to Bell. "Good. But it's not enough." His tone grew firm, almost harsh. "Starting tomorrow, your training is going to get a lot harder. I didn't come back here just to sit around. If you're serious about becoming stronger, then you'd better be ready."

Bell gulped, but his eyes shone with determination. "I'll do my best, Brother!"

Zard laughed, crossing his arms. "Looks like you've got your work cut out for you, Bell."

Alfia, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "If you're going to train him, do it properly. Orario isn't kind to the unprepared." Her voice was calm but carried a sharp edge, her words more an order than a suggestion.

Belle nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, Alfia. I'll make sure he's ready."

For a moment, Alfia's gaze lingered on him, a flicker of something unspoken crossing her face before she turned away.

The room settled into an uneasy quiet, the weight of Belle's revelations still hanging in the air. But amidst the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of hope—a shared understanding that their actions now could shape the future for the better.

--

As the first rays of dawn painted the sky, the clearing was already alive with the rhythmic clash of wood against wood. Bell and Belle stood opposite each other, sparring once again. Bell gripped his wooden sword with determination, sweat dripping from his brow as he met Belle's strikes with increasing confidence.

"Good, Bell," Belle said, his tone approving as their swords collided. "Your form is cleaner, and you're reacting faster. You've improved."

Bell grinned, his chest swelling with pride. "Thank you, sir! I've been practicing what you taught me about timing and keeping my stance steady."

Belle stepped back, lowering his sword slightly. "It shows. You're reading my movements better, but don't let your guard down just because I compliment you."

Bell barely had time to brace himself as Belle lunged forward, his strikes coming faster and harder. Bell gritted his teeth, adjusting his stance and parrying each blow with newfound precision.

As they exchanged blows, Belle couldn't hide the faint smile forming on his face. This boy's progress is remarkable. His potential is undeniable.

After several more intense exchanges, Belle called for a pause. "Enough for now. You've earned a break."

Bell lowered his sword, panting heavily but grinning ear to ear. "Did I do better this time?"

Belle nodded. "Far better. You're learning to adapt mid-fight, which is a critical skill. But don't get complacent. There's still much to refine."

Bell straightened, his expression serious. "I'll keep working at it. I want to become someone you're proud of."

Belle chuckled softly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're already on the right path, Bell. Keep this up, and you'll surpass even my expectations."

--

As the two took a brief rest, Zard strolled into the clearing, his usual grin plastered across his face. "You two have been busy. Didn't think I'd see the old man smiling during a spar."

Belle gave him a sidelong glance. "He's earned it. Bell's progress is impressive."

Zard smirked, picking up a wooden sword from the rack nearby. "Mind if I test the kid's limits a bit? I'm curious to see how much he can take."

Bell straightened, excitement and nervousness flickering in his eyes. "I'm ready!"

Belle folded his arms, stepping aside. "Go ahead. But don't overdo it."

Zard's grin widened as he twirled the sword. "No promises."

The spar began, and Zard wasted no time pressing Bell with a flurry of powerful strikes. Bell's agility kept him moving, dodging and parrying as best as he could.

"Not bad, kid," Zard said as Bell narrowly avoided a heavy swing. "But you're holding back. Show me what you've got!"

Bell took a deep breath, focusing on Zard's movements. He stepped forward, launching a counterattack with speed and precision that caught Zard off guard. Their swords clashed, the impact echoing through the clearing.

"That's more like it!" Zard roared, his grin turning feral.

--

By the time the sparring session ended, Bell was sprawled on the ground, utterly exhausted but beaming with satisfaction.

"You held up better than I expected," Zard said, tossing his sword aside. "You've got grit, kid. Keep this up, and you'll be a force to reckon with."

Belle crouched next to Bell, offering him a hand. "Good work today. Rest up, because tomorrow will be even tougher."

Bell gripped Belle's hand, pulling himself up. Despite his exhaustion, his eyes burned with determination. "I'll be ready. Thank you both for pushing me."

As the day continued, Belle and Zard couldn't help but feel a sense of pride watching Bell's growth. The boy was on his way to becoming something extraordinary—and they were both determined to help him get there.