***
As we waited patiently for our meal, I looked around us as other villagers and families ate to their heart's content.
The decorations were quite nice with blue and red flags hanging here and there. And, what's more, on the walls of the two big buildings next to us were intricate designs of what could only be the insignia of a noble house, likely the very people who made today's celebration possible.
"What's that?" I pointed at the hanging banners with insignias surrounding us.
My mother's response was swift and informative."Ahh that's the coat of arms of the Count's family," she elucidated. "They represent House Weinan. Today's celebration is all thanks to their generosity and their son's birthday."
I nodded, acknowledging the significance in the connection.
Before our conversation could deepen, the elderly gentleman, once again, made his presence known. This time, his arms bore the weight of numerous plates, each one heaped with an array of delectable food.
"Here you go! Food prepared just for your family." Mr. Heidor said as he arranged the plates upon our table.
"Thank you kindly." My mother responded, her countenance adorned with a gentle smile.
"You're welcome, please enjoy." His hospitality radiated warmly, before Mr. Heidor turned away and left us once again.
Eating the plate of food in front of me with a fork and spoon, I was having trouble. Cursed tiny hands! No wonder children always made a mess. This was humiliating and nothing short of embarrassing. Noticing me struggling to eat properly, my father began feeding me. Curses!
"Here comes the little bird, open up…" He said, moving my spoon filled with food left and right.
Ugh… The humiliation! But, I ate it anyway.
As we ate I took note of the sound of laughter and cheering coming from close to us. Looking towards the sound I saw a group of children slightly older than me playing with Mr. Heidor, watching them reminded me of my younger sister and I.
What was my parents' relationship with the old man? Who was he? How did they get to know him? He seemed like someone with authority around town. But before I could continue to ask myself questions, my thoughts seeped away as I was overcome with an unimaginable sleepiness. Perhaps it was the food, or the events of today, but before I knew it I was fastly asleep on my mother's lap.
***
Darian woke up the next day surrounded by the comforting sight and creaking sounds of the floorboards of his own home. Stretching his arms and legs, yawning, then sitting upright on his bed, and rubbing his eyes to rid himself of the last few remnants of sleep, he finally got up. The events of the previous day flooded his mind, and he couldn't help but smile. He enjoyed himself and was beginning to realise how much he loved living in this world. He felt loved and surrounded by people who cared about him, even if for now it was just his two parents.
Entering the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and the soft sound of conversation between his parents could be heard. The two were seated at the dining table, sipping their morning beverages and engaged in discussion. The sound of the boy's footsteps caught their attention, prompting them to shift their gazes toward him. In unison, they greet their son.
"Good morning, my dear," Diana's voice, still carrying the traces of sleep, carried a gentle rasp. She wore her pyjamas, and her shoulders were adorned with a cosy shawl, a shield against the morning chill.
"Good morning mama, good morning papa." Darian responded with a tender smile.
"Did you sleep well?" Renbrandt asked.
"Mhm," Darian affirmed, his enthusiasm evident as he approached his designated seat at the table. In these moments, he aimed to emulate the life of a typical child. Perhaps it was some part within him that wanted their love, or perhaps it might have been his current body's physiological and psychological impulses that affected his thoughts and actions. He wasn't sure himself.
Rising from his seat, Renbrandt briefly departed and returned with a small offering – a gift that bore the touch of Mr. Heidor's generosity.
"This is for you, it's from Mr. Heidor." He said.
Wide-eyed with astonishment, the boy received the present – a children's book adorned with charming illustrations, captivating only to the eyes of a child. Despite its modesty, this offering held immense significance, it was something he had sought after for quite a while – a gateway into the art of reading.
"Th-Thank you, papa." Darian stammered.
"You should say thank you to Mr. Heidor next time we see him." His mother added.
"I will." Darian nodded, his countenance unable to conceal the happiness he felt from within.
As winter's embrace tightened, confining Darian indoors, his boredom was only satiated by his self-teaching of magic and his parents reading the children's book given to him by Mr. Heidor from which he would eventually learn how to read.