The night outside was calm, with the gentle chirping of crickets serenading the Laurent household. Inside, the warmth of a hearty dinner lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. Elena, ever the embodiment of grace (or lack thereof), was sprawled on the couch, her head lolling back as if gravity itself had conspired against her. She had spent the day engaged in a grueling regimen of sleeping, eating, and more eating—a workload that seemed to have taken its toll.
Selaria Sylvaris, Elena's elegant yet eternally patient mother, arrived to retrieve her daughter, though the sight that greeted her at the door was anything but elegant. Elena was perched precariously on the armrest, her eyes fluttering half-closed, the very picture of someone who had spent the day scaling mountains... made of food.
Kaelen greeted Selaria with a wide grin. "Good evening, Selaria. Elena has been incredibly productive today. She mastered the art of napping and snacking—simultaneously, I might add."
Souta, leaning casually against the doorframe, burst out laughing. "She even managed to fall asleep mid-chew once. It was a sight to behold. I almost called the newspapers."
Elena, still half-asleep, managed to shuffle toward her mother with all the enthusiasm of a sloth on a Monday morning. Her limbs moved as though weighed down by invisible forces—possibly the dessert she'd snuck when no one was looking. "Thanks for... the hospitality," she mumbled, swaying slightly. "Tell your mom her pastries... are... a...mazing..."
Souta smirked. "I'll let her know you appreciated her life-altering contributions to the culinary arts. Don't forget to stretch those jaw muscles for tomorrow's food marathon!"
Selaria gave a resigned smile as she steadied her daughter, who was now leaning heavily on her. "Thank you, as always, for taking care of her. I hope she wasn't too much trouble."
"Not at all," Kaelen replied, waving her off. "The couch might disagree, though. It groaned under her weight during her epic napping sessions."
Elena managed a weak wave as Selaria guided her out the door. "Bye, Souta..." she murmured before adding, "Next time... I'll bring you a snack from our house..." Her voice trailed off as her head lolled against her mother's shoulder.
Souta leaned out slightly, calling after her. "Just don't fall asleep halfway through making it!"
The door clicked shut, and the room fell silent for a moment. Souta stretched, ready to head upstairs, but his father clapped his hands together with sudden energy. "Alright, Souta! Time for a bath!"
Souta froze mid-step and turned slowly to face Kaelen, raising an eyebrow. "A bath? With you?"
Kaelen grinned mischievously, already rolling up his sleeves. "Of course! Father-son bonding. Come on, it'll be fun!"
"Fun?!" Souta exclaimed, backing away. "The last time we bonded, you turned it into a wrestling match, and I ended up stuck in the laundry basket for an hour!"
Kaelen waved dismissively. "That was last year. I've matured. This time, I promise no wrestling."
"You said that before, and I still got a noogie that nearly sent me bald," Souta countered, crossing his arms. "I'll pass, thanks."
But Kaelen was already dragging him toward the bathroom, ignoring his protests. "Nonsense! It's tradition! You'll thank me when you're older!"
"I'll thank you when you stop ambushing me!" Souta retorted, struggling to free himself.
As the door closed behind them, Lirien watched from the kitchen, shaking her head with a bemused smile. "Kaelen's definition of bonding is just Souta's definition of torture," she muttered, chuckling softly.
Inside the bathroom, steam curled upward, filling the air with warmth and making the mirrors fog over. The scent of lavender bath salts Kaelen had insisted on using lingered, giving the scene an oddly luxurious atmosphere. Souta sat on a small stool, furiously scrubbing at his hair with a lather that looked like a foam monster had exploded on his head, while Kaelen lounged in the tub, looking uncharacteristically serene.
"Dad," Souta began hesitantly, rinsing the soap from his hair. "What was your childhood like?"
Kaelen's face lit up instantly, his relaxed demeanor giving way to his usual exuberance. "Ah, my childhood. Let me tell you, it was wild. Back in those days, I was what you'd call a pioneer of mischief. Climbing trees, sword-fighting with sticks, sneaking pies from the kitchen, convincing the neighbor's dog to join me in my adventures—I was an absolute menace."
Souta paused mid-scrub, a bubble dripping off his nose. "Wait, you convinced a dog? How does one even do that?"
Kaelen smirked, raising a brow. "Charisma, my boy. You're either born with it, or you develop it after getting chased by enough angry farmers."
Souta burst out laughing, nearly tipping off the stool. "I don't know if I should be impressed or worried about where this story is going."
"Oh, it gets better," Kaelen said, leaning forward conspiratorially, water sloshing over the edge of the tub. "I was so notorious that your grandpa—the noble, wise man that he was—used to slap my butt with a wooden spoon at least once a week. I'd create chaos, and he'd appear like some vengeful deity, wielding that spoon like it was Excalibur."
Souta snorted, holding his sides. "I can picture it now—Grandpa sprinting after you, waving a spoon and shouting about 'justice.'"
"Exactly!" Kaelen laughed, smacking the water for emphasis. "And no matter how fast I thought I was, he was always faster. He called it the 'discipline of love.' I called it the 'fear of wooden spoons.' But in hindsight..." Kaelen's voice softened, his gaze growing nostalgic. "...he was always fair. Even when I was the worst kid in town, he always told me one thing: 'Kaelen, you can be anything you want in life, but whatever you do, you'd better own up to it.' That's why I loved him so much. He supported me, no matter how insane my antics were."
Souta, now rinsing the suds from his hair, grinned. "Despite Grandpa's whole 'stern old-man' vibe, he's pretty cool."
Kaelen chuckled, nodding. "Agreed. Beneath the tough exterior was a man who would walk through fire for his family. But boy, did he make me earn his respect."
The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of water splashing as Kaelen adjusted his position. Then, as if on cue, Kaelen's sage wisdom kicked in. "And you know, Souta, no matter how much I train you or how many baths I force you into—"
"You don't force me into baths!" Souta interrupted indignantly, shaking droplets off his hands.
Kaelen ignored him, continuing with a grin. "—the decisions in life will always be yours to make. I just want you to be prepared, get a good education, and make sure you survive. Because—"
Souta groaned dramatically, throwing his head back like a soap opera character. "Because 'the world is big, full of dangers, yadda yadda,' right? I've heard this speech a thousand times, Dad. It's practically my bedtime story."
Kaelen's face broke into a wide smile, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Good. That means it's finally sinking in."
Despite his annoyance, Souta felt a rare warmth spreading through his chest. His father's words carried a weight he hadn't appreciated until now.
The old man might be eccentric and overly dramatic, but there was no doubting his sincerity. Shy about the sudden emotional atmosphere, Souta tried to deflect in the only way he knew how—by being a little menace.
Without thinking, he reached out and lightly slapped Kaelen on the cheek with his soapy hand, leaving behind a perfect lather print. "Thanks for the wisdom, Dad," Souta said, grinning mischievously.
Kaelen froze, his eyes widening in shock. The sound of the slap echoed in the steamy bathroom like the toll of a dramatic bell like the toll of a dramatic bell, signaling the start of something Souta would soon regret.
For a moment, Kaelen sat there, stunned, the foamy handprint still plastered on his cheek. The silence was heavy, save for the soft drip-drip of water from the faucet. Then, in slow motion, Kaelen turned his head toward Souta, his eyes narrowing like a lion sizing up a particularly cheeky gazelle.
"Oh, you dare, huh?" Kaelen's voice was calm—too calm. That was never a good sign.
Souta immediately realized his mistake. "Uh... it was a joke? A bonding thing? Like, appreciation slap?" He began to back away, his soapy hands raised defensively.
Kaelen rose from the tub like Poseidon emerging from the sea, water cascading dramatically off his shoulders. "A bonding thing, you say? Let me show you some father-son bonding!"
Before Souta could react, Kaelen lunged, splashing water everywhere as he grabbed Souta in a bear hug, pulling him off the stool and straight into the tub. The chaos that followed could only be described as aquatic warfare.
"Dad! This is—ack!—waterboarding!" Souta sputtered, flailing as Kaelen dumped a bucket of warm water over his head.
"Consider it a lesson in respecting your elders!" Kaelen declared triumphantly, his laughter echoing off the tiled walls. "And maybe in proper hygiene, too—what's this shampoo residue still doing here?"
"I just rinsed it!" Souta protested, attempting to wriggle free, but Kaelen was relentless, scrubbing his son's hair like he was shining armor.
"Lirien!" Souta shouted toward the door, hoping for backup. "Mom, your husband has gone rogue!"
Outside, Lirien stood with her arms crossed, a bemused smile tugging at her lips as she listened to the commotion. "Hopeless," she murmured, shaking her head. "Absolutely hopeless."
Back inside, Souta had finally managed to escape Kaelen's grip, slipping out of the tub and skidding onto the wet floor. "You're insane!" he yelled, scrambling for a towel.
Kaelen, still lounging in the water with an air of victory, shrugged nonchalantly. "You slapped the king, son. Actions have consequences."
Souta pointed a finger at him, still catching his breath. "You're lucky I didn't use soap in your other eye."
Kaelen smirked. "Try it next time, and you'll see what happens." His grin widened. "Literally."
Souta groaned, wrapping the towel around himself as he stomped toward the door. "I'm telling Mom. Don't think she'll side with you on this."
"She'll laugh," Kaelen called after him, leaning back in the tub like a smug emperor. "She always does."
And as Souta left, muttering under his breath about unfair parenting tactics, the bathroom echoed with Kaelen's victorious chuckles. Family bonding, he thought with satisfaction, was always best served with a little chaos.
After their bath, everyone retreated to their rooms for the night. Souta laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the lingering warmth of his father's words still in his chest. The room was quiet, save for the occasional creaks of the wooden house settling. Just as his eyes began to droop, faint noises started filtering through the walls. At first, it was muffled—an indistinct hum that could have been the wind. But then, there it was: a giggle, a soft moan, and the unmistakable sound of furniture subtly protesting against a rhythm.
Souta froze.
"...No way," he whispered, his eyes darting toward the wall that separated his room from his parents' room. His face flushed, and he grabbed his pillow, shoving it over his head in a desperate attempt to block out the sounds. But the pillow wasn't enough to muffle what his parents were clearly enjoying.
"Really, Mom and Dad? Right now?!" he groaned into the pillow, half-annoyed and half-amused. His lips twitched despite himself. "You just gave me that whole 'life is dangerous, be prepared' speech, and this is how you prepare? Practicing making heirs at top volume?"
He rolled over, clutching the pillow tighter. "Can't even be subtle about it," he muttered. His face burned as his father's earlier advice about responsibility echoed mockingly in his head. "Yeah, great timing, Dad. Is this your version of a demonstration?"
After a few more moments of failed attempts at ignoring the increasingly obvious activity, Souta let out an exaggerated sigh and let the pillow drop. He smirked, though his ears were practically glowing red. "Well... I guess if this means I'll finally get a little brother or sister, I'll let it slide this once. But if they name the kid after tonight, I'm leaving."
He turned to face the wall and shook his head. "At least have the decency to wait until I'm not next door. Who's supposed to be the adult here?"
***
Lirien woke Souta with a gentle shake. "Time to get up, sleepyhead. Breakfast is ready."
Souta groaned, burrowing deeper into his blanket. "Five more minutes, Mom."
"You said that yesterday," Lirien replied, smirking as she leaned closer. "And look what happened—half the food went cold while you drooled on your pillow."
"I do not drool!" Souta protested, sitting up abruptly. Then he noticed the damp patch on his pillow and sheepishly flipped it over. "Anyway, where's Dad?"
"He left early for the capital to meet your grandfather," Lirien explained as she smoothed down his wild, spiky hair. "Now, get washed up. I made stew, and it won't wait for you."
Still half-asleep, Souta hugged his mother without thinking. Lirien blinked in surprise before smiling warmly and patting his back. "That's sweet, but you're not getting out of washing up. Go, now."
Grumbling, Souta stumbled to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and shuffled to the dining table. The smell of the stew perked him up immediately. "Whoa, what is this? It smells divine!"
"It's just stew," Lirien replied, setting a plate of bread beside him. "Eat up."
Souta eagerly dug in, savoring the hearty flavors. "Mom, this is amazing! What kind of meat is this?"
"Just something I picked up from our region's markets. A common forest beast—perfectly safe," she said, rinsing dishes in the kitchen sink.
"Safe?!" Souta stopped mid-bite, inspecting the stew as if it might bite him back. "Are you sure it's not some mutant wolf or a giant chicken or something?"
Lirien chuckled. "You'll live. Now finish up."
As Souta continued to eat, Lirien glanced over her shoulder. "Souta, have you ever felt... energy flowing through your body?"
Souta paused, mid-chew. "Huh? You mean, like... when I'm really into something?"
"Yes," Lirien said, intrigued. "Have you ever felt a tingling, flowing sensation? Like something's alive inside you?"
Souta tilted his head thoughtfully. "Oh, you mean like when I get really relaxed? Or when I focus super hard, and it feels like something's... moving?"
Lirien set the dishes down, her expression lighting up. "Exactly! That's mana."
"Mana?" Souta repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You mean, like magic mana? The kind that makes people fly or shoot fireballs?"
"Yes," Lirien confirmed, smiling.
Souta leaned back in his chair, a smug grin on his face. "Well, that explains it. I am pretty awesome."
Lirien rolled her eyes. "Don't let it go to your head, genius. Come with me. There's something I need to show you."
Souta grabbed a piece of bread and followed her upstairs, his curiosity piqued. "What is it? Some ancient relic? A family heirloom? A secret stash of sweets?"
Lirien opened a cabinet and pulled out a dusty green book with golden linings. The title read S.M.U. Basic Skills.
"This," she said, brushing off the dust, "is how you'll learn your first spell."
Souta's eyes widened. "Wait, are you serious? You're teaching me magic?!"
Lirien smiled. "Yes, but before we start, a little history lesson. Your father and I weren't always the humble parents you know today. We were adventurers."
Souta nearly choked on his bread. "Adventurers? Like, swords and magic and slaying dragons?"
"Yes," Lirien replied, amused by his reaction. "Your father was a swordsman, and I was a mage. We traveled with Selaria and Eryndor, Elena's parents. Together, we formed one of the strongest guilds in Solstara."
Souta's jaw dropped. "You're kidding. You fought monsters? Raided dungeons? And you never told me?!"
"Well, it's not exactly dinner-table conversation," Lirien said with a shrug. "Now, are you ready to learn some magic, or are you going to keep asking questions?"
Souta's excitement bubbled over. "Yes, teach me! I want to shoot fireballs! Or lightning bolts! Or—oh, oh, can I summon a dragon?"
"Calm down," Lirien laughed. "We're starting with something simple: Aqua Barrage. It's a basic water spell. No fireballs or dragons yet."
Souta deflated slightly but still nodded eagerly. "Alright, let's do this."
Outside, Lirien set the book on a tree stump and turned to the page explaining Aqua Barrage. She walked Souta through the steps, her tone patient but firm.
"First, you need to focus your mana. Close your eyes and imagine the energy flowing to your hand. Then picture water forming there. Once you feel it, say the incantation—Aqua Barrage or Aqua Blast—and release it toward your target."
Souta nodded, closing his eyes and raising his hand toward an old vase perched on a tree trunk. "Okay, here goes."
He concentrated, feeling a faint tingling in his palm. Slowly, it grew stronger, cooler, until—
"I feel it!" he exclaimed, eyes still shut.
Lirien's eyes widened as a small ball of water formed in his hand. "You're doing it!"
Souta opened his eyes and gasped. "Whoa! This is so cool!"
"Now release it," Lirien urged. "Say the words and aim at the vase."
Souta grinned, pointing at the vase. "Aqua Blast!"
The water shot forward, faster than either of them expected, and the vase exploded into tiny shards. Both mother and son froze, staring at the mess.
"Uh... was it supposed to do that?" Souta asked, scratching his head.
Lirien blinked, then burst into laughter. "You did it! On your first try!"
"Of course I did. I'm a natural," Souta said, puffing out his chest. "But... uh, sorry about the vase."
Lirien waved it off, pulling him into a tight hug. "You're incredible, Souta. I'm so proud of you."
Souta hugged her back, feeling warmth and pride swell in his chest. "Thanks, Mom. I'll keep practicing and make you and Dad proud."
As he looked at the shattered vase and the smile on his mother's face, he couldn't help but think, Maybe this second chance at life is going to be better than I ever imagined.