Today, I was at Aunt Denise's house. Both of my parents were out, and I didn't know where they had gone. As usual, they hadn't told me, but that was fine. I had a better plan—spending the day with Aunt Denise, who was always so kind and welcoming.
Aunt Denise was a middle-height woman, with medium complexion skin and hazel eyes that always seemed to be filled with warmth and joy. Her face was nothing out of the ordinary—just like any common woman you might meet, with features that were soft and round, a welcoming expression always gracing her lips. She was the kind of person who made you feel instantly at ease, and she was constantly smiling. I noticed that she was always running after her daughter, Tria, trying to keep up with the energy of a young child who was always on the move. Despite her being a housewife and someone who I suspected was only a low-level mage (Dad once said she wasn't very strong but that she was reliable and kind), Aunt Denise never seemed to mind the chaos.
Her husband, Uncle Carl, worked as part of the night patrol team, so he was sleeping in the back of the house after his long shift. He wasn't home right now, and I had no idea when he'd wake up, but it didn't matter to me. It was just me and Aunt Denise, and Tria, her daughter, who was home from school.
Now, Tria—she was a whole other story. Although she was only 4 years older than me, she acted like she was the boss of everything. Whenever we played together, it was always the same routine—she would make me play house with her, and, of course, I had to be the child while she was the mom. I didn't get a say in the matter, even though I was already getting old enough to have my own ideas.
But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was how much she loved pulling on my cheeks. I swear, it felt like my cheeks had doubled in size because of her. It didn't matter how many times I cried or asked her to stop—Tria always found a way to make me quiet, usually by picking me up and flying me around the house until I calmed down. Sure, it worked, but I couldn't stand it. I didn't care that she was older and had that annoying air of authority when we played; no one should get to pull someone else's cheeks like that without consequences.
One day, when I was strong enough, I would make her pay. I didn't know how yet, but I had plenty of time to think about it. When the day came, I would show her exactly how it felt to have someone grab your cheeks and stretch them out. Maybe I would make her cheeks feel like they had grown by 50%, just like mine had. It was only fair.
But for now, I had to tolerate her. Aunt Denise called us to the kitchen for a snack, and Tria was already bouncing around, asking for sweets as she ran circles around me. I smiled to myself, pretending that I didn't mind it as much. After all, it was just another day in Aunt Denise's home. And despite all the cheek-pulling and bossing around, I did love spending time here.
As for why I was left at Aunt Denise's house alone for the first time, that's something grave.
Yesterday evening, my father came home injured—and it was nothing like I had ever seen before. Normally, my dad was the image of strength and confidence, but when he entered the house, he was barely able to stand, supported by two guards. His face was pale, his armour torn, and his breath came in ragged gasps. I could see that he was hurt, but just how badly, I couldn't tell.
My mom, who always greeted him with a warm smile, froze when she saw him in such a state. The usual welcoming words died on her lips as she rushed to his side.
"What happened?" she asked in a panic, her voice breaking as she reached out to steady him.
I stood there, my little heart pounding, staring at my father in shock. What could have happened to him? My mind raced, but I couldn't make sense of it. My dad was supposed to be invincible, a veteran adventurer. How could anything have hurt him this badly?
The guards explained, their faces grim. "We found him near the walls, barely conscious, stumbling as if he was running from something. He passed out shortly after. We recognized him immediately—he's well known—and brought him here. He needs to rest, but you should wait for him to wake up to get a full report of what happened. It's best you contact us as soon as you hear it from him."
Mom didn't waste time. She immediately ushered Dad into the house and to their bedroom. She looked at him with deep concern, but I could see her calmness—she knew what to do. As she moved to lay him on the bed, I followed, my little legs struggling to keep up. My heart was heavy with worry, but I couldn't bring myself to ask what had happened. It wasn't like I could understand the situation anyway, other than the fact that my father was injured.
"Theresa, come!" my mom called out urgently.
With a soft shimmer of light, her arch beast, Theresa, the beautiful white butterfly, appeared beside my father. Her wings fluttered softly, glowing with soft radiance as she moved closer to my dad. She was a sight to behold—her beauty was unmatched, and her healing abilities were legendary.
While Theresa began to work, mom turned to grab some healing potions from the cupboard, her movements swift and efficient. She seemed to be doing everything she could to stabilize Dad, but her mind was clearly elsewhere, trying to piece together what could have happened.
"What happened to him?" she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else. "He went to the usual area... even if something came up, this shouldn't have been the result. He's a veteran, a D-rank adventurer. He carries healing potions, power potions... this shouldn't have happened."
I could see her gaze shift back to my dad, her worry turning into confusion. The injuries on his body were unlike anything she had seen before. The gashes on his chest, arms, and legs looked like they came from beast claws—deep and jagged, the kind of wounds that only a creature with immense power could inflict. But as mom leaned closer, her eyes narrowing with scrutiny, something didn't sit right with her.
"This isn't possible," she murmured under her breath. "These wounds... they aren't from a high-level beast. The mana signatures don't match a high-tier creature at all. This beast wasn't strong, but how could it have brought him down like this?"
She ran a finger gently over one of the deepest claw marks, her brow furrowed as she traced the mana traces left behind. I could see her frustration—this didn't make sense to her. A beast that weak should not have been able to harm someone as strong as my father, yet here he was, lying unconscious, barely able to move.
I watched quietly, confused and anxious, as mom continued her examination. She could see things I couldn't—little traces of mana that would have been invisible to me. The mana signatures left behind were faint, as if the creature had been only at a mid-level rank. But the severity of Dad's injuries said otherwise.
"This... this doesn't add up," Mom muttered, shaking her head. "A weak beast couldn't have done this, so how did it manage to hurt him so badly?"
She turned to Theresa, who was still working on my dad's wounds, channeling her healing magic. Mom was lost in thought, trying to understand how this beast had managed to get close enough to deal such a heavy blow. A low-level creature wouldn't normally be able to track a veteran adventurer like my dad—he was skilled, and he was always prepared for the unexpected.
"I think it was following him," she said aloud, her voice now colder with realization. "He must have been fleeing from it, running toward the walls."
"This wasn't just any beast." she said quietly, her voice tinged with realization. "Only a high-ranking and intelligent beast could harm him like this and it followed him here."
The walls—those were the boundaries of the town, where the dangerous wilds met the more secure areas where people lived. Any beast that got this close could be a major threat to the townspeople. The thought sent a chill through me.
"This could be a disaster if that beast is still nearby," Mom said sharply, her voice full of resolve. "If it's near the walls, it could attack anyone who gets too close. I need to report this to the Adventurers' Guild immediately and prepare the town for a possible threat."
I could see the weight of responsibility in her eyes. This wasn't just a simple injury—it was a warning. My dad had been fleeing something, and now it was up to my mom to deal with whatever was out there.
She turned to me, her face softening as she saw the concern in my eyes. "Stay here, Eren. Stay with your father. Theresa will continue to heal him, and Ley will stay with you. Don't worry. I'll take care of the rest."
I nodded, though I didn't fully understand why it was so important for me to stay behind. But I trusted her, and I knew she had everything under control.
Mom turned away, and I saw her summon Ley, her contracted beast. Ley was a small, cat-like creature, agile and intelligent, with bright, golden eyes that glinted with a quiet sense of power. She told him to look after me, and with a soft nod, Ley settled beside me.
"Don't worry, Eren. Your mom will take care of everything."
As she left to report to the guild and exercise caution, I stayed behind, sitting beside my dad, still unconscious and resting. My thoughts raced, though. What kind of beast was strong enough to harm my father but weak enough to leave such faint traces of mana?
It was a mystery I couldn't solve, not yet. But I knew one thing for sure: whatever happened next, I had to be ready. For the first time in my life, I could feel the weight of responsibility pushing down on me, just like it was on my mom.