— Celestia’s POV —
““WHOAAAAAA!!””
The deafening cheers rose into the sky, blending with the warm sunlight that bathed the town. From atop the makeshift carriage—a wooden platform without a roof adorned with banners and flowers—I looked down at the gathered crowd. The streets were packed, people pressing close together, waving banners, tossing flower petals into the air, and calling out my na.
"Co on, Celes. Flash that radiant smile and wave to the crowd. Look, they’re calling your nickna.”
Beside , Shuri bead as she waved at the crowd, the black fabric of her dress flowing around her as she moved with effortless grace. The tanned adventurer thrived in this atmosphere, soaking in the attention like a flower drinking in sunlight.
“Even if you say that… Haa..”
I hesitated.
Then, after a deep breath, I forced my lips into a smile.
The mont I raised my hand in a wave, the cheers grew even louder.
"“Whoaaa!”"
"“Valor of Ocean Flower!”"
"“Look here!”"
"“Valor of Ocean Flower!”"
They all knew.
They all knew about my family, about Daisy and Freed being kidnapped, about how my parents had vanished. My story, witnessed by many adventurers and knights, had spread throughout the town—whispered from one neighbor to another, spoken in hushed voices filled with pity and sorrow
And yet, they cheered for as if this was my victory.
As if I had won sothing.
But what had I won?
I had survived. I had helped others survive. But my family—my family was still gone.
This parade was supposed to be a celebration of bravery, of victory, but to , it felt like a cruel joke.
Their cheers, their praise, their admiration—what did it matter? Would any of it bring Daisy and Freed back?
Would any of it erase the nights I had spent, calling out their nas into the darkness, begging for an answer that never ca?
Would any of it make up for the guilt that gnawed at my soul, whispering that if I had been stronger, if I had been faster, if I had been smarter, maybe—just maybe—they would still be here?
I scanned the faces in the crowd.
So were truly happy, their smiles genuine as they celebrated our victory. So looked at with admiration, eyes shining with respect. And others—others gazed at with sorrow, their expressions gentle, understanding.
They knew.
They knew I was hurting.
But they still cheered.
And that was what made it unbearable.
If they had looked at with pity, if they had ignored , it would have been easier. But they celebrated instead. They believed in , despite knowing how much I had lost.
And that belief—it felt suffocating.
Because if I let them believe in , I had to beco the person they saw as.
A hero.
But I wasn’t a hero.
I was just a girl who had failed to protect the people who mattered most.
And yet…
Even if my heart rejected their cheers, even if I wanted to scream that I wasn’t worthy of their admiration…
I kept waving.
Because I needed them.
Not for their praise. Not for their respect.
But for the power their belief gave .
Because as long as people knew my story, as long as people talked about , maybe—just maybe—soone, sowhere, would have a clue about where Daisy and Freed had been taken.
So I forced a smile.
I waved.
And I let their voices carry my na through the streets, through the town, beyond these walls.
Even if I didn’t believe in myself, I would let them believe in .
Because in the end, I needed every advantage I could get.
For Daisy.
For Freed.
For the family I would find again—no matter what it took.
The parade continued through the bustling streets, our makeshift carriage gliding forward, carried by adventurers who had fought beside . The cheers never faded, waves of sound rolling over again and again. But through the crowd, my gaze caught on sothing—soone.
A little boy, no older than five, cradled in the arms of a man. Beside them, a girl, slightly older, perched on a woman’s hip. A family.
The siblings clung to their parents, their small hands waving excitedly as they called out to . Their laughter rang like bells, pure and carefree, their faces bright with joy.
Sothing in my chest twisted painfully.
For a mont, their silhouettes shifted. The boy beca Freed, eyes wide with admiration. The girl beca Daisy, her tiny hands grabbing at the air, demanding attention. The parents… their warm, protective presence reminded of my own.
I rembered it all so vividly that it hurt.
A lump ford in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
I missed them.
I missed them so much that it felt like a part of had been carved out, leaving only an empty space where warmth used to be.
I exhaled slowly, raising my hand. If I couldn’t reach my real family, if I couldn’t hold them close, then for just this mont, for this fleeting second—I would create the illusion of togetherness, of joy.
A soft glow enveloped my fingertips as my mana stirred.
Water gathered, shifting and weaving in delicate arcs. I guided the liquid with precision, shaping it into five distinct blossoms, each petal translucent and edged with shimring silver light.
Five flowers.
One for Daisy. One for Freed. One for Mother. One for Father.
And one for .
Together, they floated into the air, twisting and turning as if caught in an unseen breeze. I made them dance—spinning, chasing, playfully bumping into one another like children at play.
A soft giggle escaped the little girl as she reached out toward them. Her brother clapped his hands, eyes filled with delight.
For a mont, I imagined it was real.
I imagined that we were whole again. That I could turn around and see Mom’s gentle smile and hear Dad’s steady voice. That Daisy would grab my hand and Freed would hide behind , pretending to be shy before joining in.
That we were still together.
But nothing made of water could last forever.
The five blossoms began to slow, their dance growing languid, as if fatigue had settled over them. One by one, their petals dissolved, their radiant forms lting away until nothing remained but a single, fragile shape.
Just one.
Alone.
Myself.
The last remaining flower trembled, then unraveled, dissipating into a cascade of glistening droplets. The rain fell softly, a gentle mourning, as if the sky itself wept alongside .
A sigh of disappointnt passed through the children’s lips, but before sorrow could take hold—
Light bent through the falling water.
A rainbow blood in the air, its arc stretching high above us, epheral yet dazzling.
The little girl gasped, pointing with wide eyes. The boy laughed, reaching out as if he could touch it.
A happy ending.
Even if my family had been torn apart, even if we had been scattered like petals in the wind—our story wasn’t over.
This wasn’t the end.
A quiet resolve settled within as I t the parents’ eyes. Their knowing gazes held no pity—only understanding. A silent ssage passed between us, unspoken yet clear.
Keep going. Keep believing. Keep hoping.
I raised my hand in a small wave, and the children, laughing, waved back with all the energy in their tiny bodies.
The carriage moved forward.
The rainbow remained for just a few monts longer before vanishing into the sky.
And I turned my eyes forward once more, carrying the weight of mory and loss with , as I always had.
Hours passed as the parade traversed through the town, finally leading us to the lavender garden at the heart of the city.
A grand platform had been erected, where the lord of the town awaited, his presence commanding yet warm. A corridor of knights flanked the path, their polished armor gleaming under the sun. The gathered adventurers, including myself, stood in neat rows, our gazes set upon the Earl.
Skilled wind mana users stood at the edges, ensuring our voices would carry throughout the town.
The ceremony began.
One by one, adventurers stepped forward, kneeling before the Earl as he comnded their efforts. Each received words of praise, followed by the chance to request a reward.
“Fauz. Step forward.”
“Y-Yes!”
A D-Rank adventurer, visibly nervous, approached and knelt.
"Fauz, your valor against the orcs, persisting in battle even after your greatsword shattered to rescue trapped comrades, showcases the indomitable spirit of a true warrior.”
“T-Thank you!”
"What reward do you seek?"
"A new greatsword, my lord. A reliable one."
"It shall be provided.”
“Thank you!”
Fauz bowed deeply before stepping back, applause following him.
The actual reward distribution will be reserved for a more private setting as it is impossible to prepare all the rewards within a short amount of ti.
Next was Shuri.
“Shuri, step forward.”
“Yes.”
With her usual grace, she moved to the front and knelt.
"Shuri, your swift decision-making in battle, discerning when to strike and when to shield your comrades, is a prowess I acknowledge. Even I found myself outmatched in that regard.”
"You honor beyond my worth, my lord."
"And what reward would you desire?"
"A magic bag, one with ample storage space.”
As she disclosed the previous day, Shuri desired a magic bag. Its appearance is usually like a normal bag, but it is capable of holding items larger than its physical dinsions. Even the most basic models commanded a hefty price of fifty gold coins, offering storage space equivalent to two carriages.
"It shall be arranged."
"Thank you, my lord."
Each adventurer voiced their desire—new weapons, enchanted armor, rare potions—rewards that would bolster their journeys ahead.
Then, at last, my na was called.
“Celestia, step forward.”
“Yes.”
The words echoed through the open air. A hush settled over the lavender garden, as if the very earth had stilled in anticipation.
I took a steady breath and moved forward. My boots pressed into the soft grass as I approached the platform where the lord stood.
"Celestia," the lord began, his voice carrying weight and reverence.
"Your valor, riding into the midst of orcs to deliver crucial supplies, deserves comndation. Swift in judgnt, you shielded the provisions, indirectly saving knights, guards, and fellow adventurers. Your action in monts of despair could stir the very tide of battle, creating new heroes in my domain. You have achieved a great result.”
"But more than that…" His voice softened. "I'm genuinely proud of you, Valor of Ocean Flower.”
His praise stretched longer than those before . The crowd beyond the garden listened with admiration, but their sentints ant nothing to .
I didn’t need a na others gave . I didn’t need pride.
I needed my family.
My lips parted, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
“Your words are wasted on .”
Silence.
A murmur rippled through the gathered townsfolk. Those who knew of my loss—and many did—understood the weight behind my voice. Those who didn’t could feel it now, pressing heavily in the air.
That my words were not just a formality.
It carried my genuine feelings.
But the lord did not waver. He rely nodded, acknowledging my pain without refuting it.
"What reward do you desire?" he asked.
I exhaled slowly, steadying my trembling heart.
Now. Now is the mont.
I bowed my head—not in submission, but in deep, unwavering sincerity.
"Pardon , my lord. I seek no weapon, armor, or magical tool."
I lifted my gaze, allowing him to see the raw desperation that I no longer tried to hide.
"My sole yearning is for my family's return. Please aid in rescuing my kidnapped siblings, or share any information on their whereabouts, if possible.”
A heavy silence fell over the crowd.
My words echoed louder than any celebration. The realization washed over them, slow and profound.
The whispers started almost imdiately.
“She’s refusing a reward…?”
“She’s… she’s asking for her family?”
“She’s putting them first before herself…?”
What I had asked for was not for . It was not for my own gain.
I had rejected power. I had rejected wealth.
Magic tool. Weapon. Armor.
Those ant nothing to .
Because I had chosen my family.
I had chosen them above all else.
A lump ford in my throat as I clenched my fists.
Daisy. Freed.
Were they still alive? Were they waiting for ? Had they cried for the way I had cried for them?
I had promised to protect them.
I had failed.
I had failed them in the worst way possible.
But I would not fail them again.
Even if I had to burn down the world to find them.
Even if I had to tear through fate itself.
Even if it ant losing myself in the process.
I would bring them ho.
Before the Earl could react, a roaring voice surged from the crowd.
"FIND HER FAMILY!”
Then another.
"SHE DESERVES IT!”
And another.
"HELP HER!”
I stiffened. The weight of their voices crashed over like a tidal wave.
These people, these strangers, they were offering to help .
A warmth stirred in my chest, unfamiliar and fragile.
Hope.
For the first ti in a long ti, I felt it again.
Unbeknownst to …
As I knelt amidst the applause, my mind still reeling from the unexpected support, I failed to notice the way the townsfolk whispered among themselves.
My story—my heartbreaking plea, my refusal of a reward, my undying love for my siblings—was already spreading like wildfire.
By sunset, rumors had already reached the ears of traveling rchants.
Within a week, my na had crossed borders.
Within a month, in taverns far and wide, adventurers would raise their cups and speak in hushed awe.
“Have you heard of the Valor of Ocean Flower?”
“The girl who turned down power and fortune for the sake of her family?”
“I heard she’s searching for them even now.”
“They say she rides into battle against thousands of orcs with eyes that could freeze the heavens themselves.”
Thus, the story of the Valor of Ocean Flower—the adventurer who forsook riches to find her lost family—would spread far beyond this garden, kingdom, and neighboring countries.
Of course, I remained blissfully unaware.
For now…
Or perhaps, I wouldn’t know for another decade.
User Comments
0 comments from readers