Souta stirred awake at the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat—a sound so deliberate it could wake even the dead. Blinking groggily, he squinted up at the figure blocking his sunlight. There stood his father, Kaelen, towering over him like a man on a mission. And if Souta knew anything about his father, it was that missions always spelled trouble.
Kaelen's smirk was a combination of fatherly pride and the kind of amusement that said, I'm about to ruin your day, but you'll thank me later.
"Wakey, wakey, my boy," Kaelen announced, far too cheerfully for someone interrupting a perfectly good nap. He gave Souta's messy hair a light tousle, which only made it worse. "The day's not going to wait for you, you know."
Souta groaned and flopped back down onto the grass, throwing an arm dramatically over his eyes. "What is it now? I was having the most amazing dream…"
Kaelen crossed his arms, smirking. "Oh really? Was it about saving a damsel in distress? Or perhaps becoming the greatest swordsman the world has ever seen?"
"Cake," Souta muttered under his breath before he could stop himself. Realizing what he'd just admitted, he shot up, his face red. "I mean—uh, no! Nothing like that!"
But Kaelen caught it, and his smirk widened. "Cake, huh? Well, I hope it was worth it, because that dream ends here. You've got work to do."
Souta groaned louder this time, throwing his head back. "Work? Why is it always work with you? I'm still recovering from last week's firewood-hauling disaster. My arms felt like wet noodles for days."
Kaelen leaned down, hands on his knees, his face far too close for Souta's liking. "Relax, son. This is different. Besides, Elena can join you—your mother's already made snacks."
At the mention of snacks, the previously immobile Elena shot up like a spring, her eyes sparkling with newfound energy. "Snacks? Where?!"
Souta stared at her, his jaw dropping. "Wait, hold on. You were literally snoring a second ago—how are you awake already?"
Elena ignored him, rubbing her eyes and blinking at Kaelen with a hopeful smile. "What kind of snacks? Cookies? Cake? Ooh, is it pie?!"
"Calm down, sugar fiend," Kaelen said with a chuckle. "You'll see soon enough. But first, Souta has to get his lazy self to the backyard."
Souta groaned yet again, dragging a hand down his face. "Fine, but this better not involve more heavy lifting or some ridiculous 'life lesson.'" He made exaggerated air quotes around the words, earning a raised eyebrow from his father. "I just got my arms to stop feeling like jelly."
Kaelen stood up straight, clapping his hands together as if he hadn't heard a word. "Good! Then you're well-rested and ready to go. Let's move it, young man."
As Kaelen turned to walk away, Souta muttered under his breath, "Why does he always sound like a drill sergeant when he gets like this?"
Elena, now fully alert and clearly motivated by the promise of food, hopped up beside him. "I don't know, but if there's cake involved, I'm not missing it. You should really work on having better priorities, Souta."
"Priorities? You're the one who just woke up from a food coma!" Souta shot back, trudging after his father. "Why am I the only one being singled out here?"
"Because I'm cuter," Elena said with a wink, skipping ahead of him.
Souta sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm surrounded by traitors…"
The trio trudged back to the house as the golden sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Lirien was already waiting for them at the doorstep, her smile as radiant as the setting sun. She held a tray piled high with freshly baked pastries, their golden-brown crusts glistening with a sheen of butter. The aroma hit them like a warm hug, causing both Souta and Elena to momentarily forget their drowsiness.
"Welcome back, my little adventurers," Lirien said, her voice full of maternal warmth. "I made some snacks. Elena, why don't you sit down and try these?"
Elena's eyes lit up like fireworks. "Really? For me?" she asked, her voice full of awe, as if Lirien had just handed her a treasure chest brimming with gold.
"For you, and for Souta too, of course," Lirien replied, patting a chair nearby.
Elena didn't need a second invitation. She climbed onto the chair, grabbed a pastry, and took an enormous bite. Her eyes widened as the flavors exploded on her tongue. "These are amazing, Mrs. Lirien!" she exclaimed, spraying crumbs in all directions.
Lirien chuckled. "Elena, darling, chew first, then talk."
Souta, standing off to the side, watched Elena inhale the pastries with a mixture of amusement and envy. "Hey, don't eat them all! Leave some for me!"
Elena paused, a guilty look on her face as she hid a half-eaten pastry behind her back. "Uh… I was just taste-testing for poison. You know, to protect you."
"Poison?" Souta gave her an exasperated look. "You're the only danger to those pastries."
As the two bickered, Kaelen cleared his throat. "Alright, Souta, enough clowning around. Come with me to the backyard."
Souta turned to his father, a suspicious look on his face. "Why the backyard? Are you planning to lecture me about not eating enough vegetables again?"
Kaelen didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he gestured toward the wooden swords propped against the fence. Souta's stomach twisted. This didn't look like a lecture; it looked like something much worse.
"Dad," Souta began cautiously, "what's with the swords? Are we about to settle our differences in some epic samurai duel, or…?"
Kaelen grabbed one of the swords and tossed the other to Souta, who fumbled to catch it. "No duel, just training," Kaelen replied, his tone unusually serious.
"Training?" Souta echoed, staring at the sword in his hand like it was a particularly complicated math problem. "For what? Are you worried I'll trip over my own feet and accidentally stab myself with a butter knife?"
Kaelen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The world isn't as safe as it seems, Souta. One day, you'll step out of this region, and you'll need to be ready."
Souta tilted his head, still not grasping the gravity of the situation. "Ready for what? The next bake sale?"
Kaelen smirked despite himself. "Two years from now, when you turn seven, you'll be attending Solstara Magic University."
Souta froze mid-snark, his jaw dropping. "Wait, what? University? At seven? Are you trying to make me a child genius or just trying to get rid of me?"
Kaelen's lips twitched with amusement, but his eyes remained serious. "It's not just about academics. You'll be learning magic there, yes, but also swordsmanship. Your grandfather pulled some strings to get you a scholarship, and this is about more than just you—it's about our family's legacy."
Souta opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, a small voice cut through the tension. "Wait…" Elena piped up, her big, worried eyes darting between Kaelen and Souta. "Does that mean Souta and I won't be together anymore?"
Lirien, who had been silently watching the exchange, knelt beside Elena and brushed her hair back gently. "Oh, sweetheart, don't worry. Your father plans to have you attend the university with Souta. You'll still be together."
Elena's transformation was instant. Her face lit up like the morning sun, and she clapped her hands excitedly. "Yay! I'll get to go to school too! I hope they have lots of snacks there!"
Souta, meanwhile, felt like he'd been hit by a runaway carriage. "Magic school, swords, legacy… This is all happening way too fast." He glanced at the wooden sword in his hand, then back at his father. "But I guess it makes sense. If I graduate, I could join a guild, explore the world, and maybe even…" His voice trailed off, and a sly grin crept across his face. "…discover all the cake recipes of the world."
Kaelen raised an eyebrow. "Cake recipes?"
"Nothing!" Souta blurted, quickly shaking his head. Straightening his posture, he pointed the wooden sword at his father in what he hoped was a dramatic pose. "Alright, let's do this. I'll train, and I'll do my best to meet your expectations."
Kaelen's face softened into a proud smile. "That's my boy."
From the side, Lirien called out, "No pressure, though!" Her teasing tone earned a chuckle from Kaelen, who nodded in acknowledgment.
And so, the training began.
Kaelen stood across from Souta, wooden swords in hand. He pointed the tip of his weapon at his son. "Alright, Souta. First lesson: grip. Hold the sword firm, but relaxed. Think of it like… uh…" Kaelen paused, searching for an analogy. "Like you're holding a giant drumstick."
Souta's eyes lit up. "A drumstick? Like the chicken kind? Oh, I've got this!"
Kaelen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, not like chicken. I'm trying to teach a swordsman here, not a fry cook. Just hold it like this." He demonstrated the grip again.
Souta mimicked him, though his hands wobbled as he raised the wooden sword. "Okay, got it! I'm ready to unleash my inner warrior."
"Sure you are," Kaelen muttered, rolling his eyes. "Now, let's work on vertical swings. Raise your sword high and bring it down in a straight line—controlled, precise."
Souta nodded and took his stance. He lifted the wooden sword dramatically above his head, then brought it down with an exaggerated flourish. Unfortunately, his swing was more akin to swatting at a bee than executing a disciplined strike.
"How was that?" Souta asked, beaming with confidence.
Kaelen stared at him, unblinking. "Terrible. Try again."
"Terrible?" Souta huffed. "I thought it looked pretty cool."
"Cool doesn't win battles, kid. Try again, and this time, no fancy twirls." Kaelen folded his arms, watching as Souta attempted another swing.
Meanwhile, Elena and Lirien sat a few feet away, enjoying snacks on a small table set up near the training area. Elena giggled between bites of her pastry. "You're doing great, Souta! Just don't let the sword hit your face!"
"Very encouraging," Souta muttered under his breath, already feeling the strain in his arms.
Kaelen stepped in and adjusted Souta's grip. "No, not like that. Here, loosen your wrists a little. You're holding it like it owes you money."
"Maybe it does," Souta shot back, grinning. "I think this sword and I have a complicated relationship."
Kaelen groaned, shaking his head. "Why did I think this was a good idea?"
Lirien called out teasingly, "You're the one who decided to train him, dear. Don't complain now."
Kaelen threw her a mock glare before returning to Souta. "Alright, now let's try horizontal swings. Imagine you're slicing through a watermelon."
Souta's eyes lit up again. "Oh, I'm good at that! At the festival last year, I smashed three in a row!"
"This isn't a festival game!" Kaelen barked. "It's training. Focus!"
Souta puffed out his chest, determined to prove himself. He swung horizontally, but his aim was so wide he nearly hit a nearby bush.
Elena burst out laughing. "The bush is now officially your enemy, Souta! Good job!"
"Not helping, Elena!" Souta shot back, glaring at his childhood friend, who was now doubling over with laughter.
Kaelen sighed, stepping forward to demonstrate again. His movements were smooth and precise, each swing cutting through the air with a satisfying whoosh. "Like this. Controlled. Calculated. Now, you try."
Souta gave it another go, this time mimicking his father's movements as best he could. The swing wasn't perfect, but it was a vast improvement from his earlier attempts.
Kaelen gave a grudging nod. "Better. Still not great, but better."
Elena clapped enthusiastically. "Woohoo, Souta! At this rate, you'll be an expert in, like… ten years!"
"Gee, thanks," Souta muttered, his arms already feeling like jelly.
Kaelen stepped back and pointed his wooden sword at his son. "Now we spar."
"Spar? Already? I barely learned the basics!" Souta protested, backing up a step.
Kaelen smirked. "The world won't wait for you to be ready, son. Besides, this is just to test what you've learned."
As they squared off, Elena leaned over to Lirien, whispering conspiratorially. "Ten gold says Souta gets smacked on the first hit."
Lirien chuckled, watching the scene unfold. "Oh, I'd never bet against Kaelen."
Kaelen lunged forward with a light strike, which Souta narrowly dodged. "Not bad," Kaelen said. "Now attack me."
Souta hesitated before taking a clumsy swing, which Kaelen parried effortlessly. The sound of wood meeting wood echoed in the air as the two continued their bout.
"Stop swinging like you're stirring soup!" Kaelen barked. "Put some strength into it!"
"I like soup!" Souta retorted, trying to keep up with his father's movements.
They went back and forth, Kaelen moving with the precision of a seasoned swordsman, while Souta flailed and stumbled but refused to give up. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, both were covered in sweat, breathing heavily.
Kaelen clapped his son on the shoulder. "Not bad for your first day. You've got heart, kid. Skill… well, we'll work on that."
Souta grinned despite his exhaustion. "Not bad? Dad, I'm basically a sword master already."
Kaelen snorted, shaking his head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
From the sidelines, Elena shouted, "Good job, master swordsman! Now don't trip over your own feet on the way back inside!"
"Very funny," Souta shot back, though he couldn't help but laugh along with her.
As they walked back into the house, their laughter filling the evening air, Souta felt a rare warmth in his chest. Training had been grueling, but it was also… fun. For the first time in a long while, he felt like part of a family again—a family that, no matter how strange or challenging, made him feel whole.
As they headed back inside, the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted through the air. Souta's stomach growled loudly, earning a laugh from Elena. "Sounds like your belly's been training too," she teased.
They all gathered around the dinner table, where Lirien had prepared a feast fit for royalty. The family laughed and chatted as they ate, their bonds growing stronger with each shared story and playful jab. Souta couldn't help but feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. This warmth, this love—it reminded him so much of the family he had lost.
For a moment, his chest tightened with grief. But as he looked around at the smiling faces of his new family, the sadness faded, replaced by a quiet gratitude. I'm lucky to have this second chance, he thought, picking up a forkful of cake. Lucky to have them.
"Hey, Souta," Kaelen said suddenly, pointing at him. "You've got frosting on your nose."
Souta blinked, wiping at his face only to realize his father was teasing him. Groaning, he rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."
But he couldn't hide the small, contented smile that lingered on his lips. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt just right.