"There's only one thing I need to know," Clara said as she stared at Hutch, the kitchen drawing quiet. "Did you try to kill him?"
"Clara, I told you, that is not what happened," Casimir stated with a tone of disappointment.
"It's okay, Cas. You said they knew everything. She has a right to verify what you've said, and to ask any questions she wants. You too, Celina."
"As long as you're okay with it," Casimir replied, motioning towards Clara.
"Yeah, I'm fine with it," Hutch said, turning back to her. "To answer your question, no. I wasn't trying to kill him. I never tried to kill him."
"True," Casimir clarified.
"I did however try to capture him. On several occasions. He, however, did sign an execution order on me."
Clara quirked a skeptical brow at him. "Wasn't that because you attacked one of his generals?"
Casimir began to chuckle behind him.
"Okay, yes. I did attack one of the generals," he grimaced.
"In his defense, Levim had it coming. Had it been at any other time or place, I would have given him a medal instead."
"Hold on a minute," Hutch remarked, turning in Casimir's direction, "You agreed with me?"
"Well, I did have him assassinated; so, yes. I supposed I did," he replied, with a smug grin even as Celina scoffed and swatted at his arm.
"You're dreadful," she whispered barely loud enough to hear as she returned to stirring the contents of the large pot.
"I thought you said, silently executed?" Hutch questioned, feeling confused about what might have been said earlier.
"Euphemism," Clara clarified, as Casimir shook his head.
"Ah," Hutch responded, swearing he could hear Aseda laughing at him from the great beyond.
"Let us move on, shall we," Celina recommended, tapping off her spoon and laying it on the counter. "This is a joyous occasion, regardless. If I'd known you were going to be coming, I would have prepared a tor ashii morhay, because I never got the opportunity to properly convey what I wanted to tell you, when we met at the Tower. Hutch, you are a hero in my eyes. I know things weren't always good between you and Casimir, but in the end, it was your actions that gave him the strength to break that cursed amulet. It was you who freed him from that vile place and returned him to me. The circumstances around that day don't matter. I have all of this, because of you. I am beyond grateful. My home is your home, and you will always be welcomed here, because there is no other possible way for me to thank you."
Hutch was stunned to hear what Celina said. He didn't understand how she could possibly view him as a hero when it came to Casimir; it certainly wasn't how he saw himself. In his mind, he was a hero for the people of Qur'loam. He had won the day by ridding Illimev of Salvador, but he had always felt he failed because Salvador would never be held accountable for the things he had done. And in that, he didn't yet feel as if he were a hero at all.
"Try not to look so shocked," Clara remarked, patting at his arm. "You're a bit of a legend in our family. You're the hero who risked everything to save my dad. We've grown up on your war stories. Fair warning though, my brother doesn't exactly believe them the way mom and I do."
"Yes, speaking of your brother, would you call him down? Dinner's nearly ready, and you," she poked at Casimir's chest, "need to go freshen up. You smell like the inside of your truck."
"No need to have me called, mom. I could hear the commotion through the floor," a boy said as he came into the kitchen from the living room.
Hutch recognized him as the same boy from the picture Casimir kept in his wallet, albeit slightly older in appearance, passible as twelve with the right attire.
"Dad," he said with a slight bob of his head.
"Son," Casimir replied as he came around the island, stood next to Hutch and wrapped his arm over his shoulder, "there is someone I want you to meet. This is Jules Hutchinson. Hutch, this is our son, Julian."
Hutch felt as if he's been struck by a brick in the back of his head. His mind instantly filling with static as he stared at the kid, who Casimir had already told him, was in fact, twenty-five.
"J-J-Julian?" he stuttered.
"Yep. I'm apparently named after you," he remarked, sounding overly skeptical as he wandered towards the fridge.
"It was my idea," Celina confessed, as Julian opened the fridge and grabbed a can of soda from the door. "I thought it was fitting to honor you in such a way."
"I'm speechless," Hutch replied, finding it difficult to form coherent sentences.
"And I somehow imagined you'd be older," Julian commented with a snicker, cracking open the can.
"Same boat," Hutch replied, finding Julian's attitude to be off putting, only to wince at the abrupt tightening of Casimir's grip on his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry," he whispered, while squirming out from beneath his arm.
"Wow, so this is the great hero I'm named for?" Julian began to laugh. "Disappointing. You should try harder."
"Julian!" Celina snapped at him. "Hutch is a guest in this house. Mind yourself."
For some reason, hearing Celina scold her son, tickled his heart, and brought a smile to Hutch's face.
"It really is hard to believe it, you know?" Hutch said, setting his hand on Casimir's shoulder as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose, while groaning, clearly frustrated by how the situation was going. "But you did it. You have a real family. A good life, business, and home. I get what you mean now. It's definitely better than being a king. And for your information, Julian, I'm actually, thirty-six. But instead of buying beer and drinking my sorrows away, I still get to complete a year of high school and don't even have my driver's license yet. No one is more disappointed in this," he motioned to himself, "than me. Rode this coaster, got the t-shirt, did not want to do it again. But here I am. Oh, lucky me."
"You're joking," Julian stated, setting his can onto the counter, the color having drained from his face.
"He's not," Casimir replied.
"No," Julian shook his head, "this is impossible. Dad's story is insane. Come on, Mom, Clara, we all know it. He is crazy. Look, I'm sorry you've been dragged into this kid, but just fess up and tell me who much he's paying you?"
"He's got a point Cas, you are a little bit insane," Hutch smirked as he pinched at the air in front of him. "And not that I'm complaining or anything, but we never did get around to finalizing the payment plan."
"You aren't helping."
"Not trying to," he said, sucking in his lips to stop himself from laughing.
"Oh, that is enough," Clara shouted, slamming her hands down onto the top of the island. "Are you really going to be this stubborn Jay? He's Hutch. The real, Jules Hutchinson. The one from the stories. The one you were named after. Dad isn't crazy. I get that you want to deny that your condition validates everything he's ever told us, but could you please, just this once open your eyes. How much more proof do you need?"
"A lot more than a half-baked kid with a surface level story."
"I kind of like him," Hutch muttered, elbowing Casimir in the side.
"You would," Casimir sighed.
"Then test him. Go on, ask him anything. He already said he didn't mind being questioned."
"True. I don't mind at all," Hutch spoke up.
Celina interrupted, clapping her hands to garner everyone's attention. "Could we at least try sitting down at the table first, though?"
"Right. You heard the Queen, to the table," Casimir remarked loudly, before lowering his voice and turning to Hutch. "I'm going to freshen up extremely quick. Do try and play nice."
"Of course, your majesty."
Casimir rolled his eyes, groaning as he departed from the kitchen.
"Hutch, you can come sit over here, next to Clara," Celina remarked, motioning him into the dining room, where a cherry wood table, large enough to seat six, without adding a leaf, was dressed in a dark green runner, adorned with a golden center piece, featuring three red candles surrounded by sprigs of evergreen, pinecones, chestnuts, and Christmas themed ribbons.
The table was already set for four, but Clara had grabbed a placemat, and utensils from the built-in wooden hutch, and were laying them out in front of a vacant chair, as Celina placed down a plate, bowl, and glass.
When they had finished preparing a spot for him, Hutch took the indicated seat, directly across from Julian.
"Well, now that we're sitting," Julian began with a bitter smile, "My Dad claims he was a king, perhaps we can start with that story, and see how much more you've memorized."