The Twin Owl Café buzzed with its usual quiet energy, the warm light casting a golden glow over the worn wooden floors and walls lined with books and trinkets. At a corner table, Elora's children sat, laughing and talking, each of them absorbed in their own world yet somehow woven together by the invisible threads of family.
Gavin lounged back, arms crossed, his gaze flicking from one sibling to the next with a faint smirk. "Nachtan's probably off somewhere, trying to train by himself again," he said, the disdain in his voice clear. "Kid thinks he's stronger than he is. Doesn't even have an active anomalyte yet, and he's out there pretending he's some sort of warrior."
Amelia shot him a sharp look, her eyes narrowing. "You know what? Just shut up, Gavin. He may be different, sure. But he's still our younger brother. For once, you could be more understanding towards him.
Nola, who had been flipping through a book she'd brought with her, looked up and gave Gavin a flat, unimpressed stare. "Gavin, don't you think you're exaggerating? You say it like he's out there causing trouble. He's just… doing his best."
Gavin rolled his eyes but didn't push further. His annoyance seemed to fizzle slightly, though his expression still held a hint of irritation. Nola, sensing the tension, cleared her throat and changed the subject. "Anyway, it's Nachtan's birthday soon. We should think of something to get him. Something he'd actually appreciate."
Ronan, who'd been fiddling with a pair of gloves, perked up, grinning. "Oh, I've got an idea. There's this rare type of combat shoe—heard about it a while back. 'Battle runners.' They're not just any shoes. They've got this special design that adjusts to the environment and the user's anomalyte type. Supposedly, they're reinforced with anomalyte fibers, so they don't wear down, and they even adapt to enhance the user's agility in different terrains. Imagine him wearing those around here! He'd be the talk of Nexuria."
Gavin scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Why waste good money on shoes he can't even use? He doesn't have an active anomalyte, remember? It'd be like giving a fish a surfboard."
Leo, who had been quietly listening with half-lidded eyes, chuckled. "Or maybe you're just jealous that he'd look better in them than you would, Gav."
Gavin shot him a dark look, but Leo shrugged, completely unfazed. Amelia nodded, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "It's actually a great idea, Ronan. He's been eyeing those Battlerunners for a while now. He'd be thrilled."
Just then, Varric approached the table, balancing plates of food on his thick forearms. "Alright, what's this I hear about expensive birthday gifts? Sounds like I'll need to start charging you kids extra for your favorite pastries," he teased, setting down the plates with a grin. Each dish was perfectly arranged, and the rich aromas wafted up from the table, warming the café.
"Oh, don't worry, Varric," Ronan laughed. "We'd just use all our funds on Nachtan's gift and live on café scraps the rest of the year."
Varric chuckled, shaking his head. "You kids and your ideas. I swear, every time I turn around, you've got some wild plan cooking up." His eyes flicked over each of them, his expression softening. "But that's what makes this place a little brighter, so keep it up."
As they dug into their food, the door to the café swung open, and Elora strode in, her expression a thundercloud of tension. Her silver hair seemed to shimmer under the café lights, and though she managed a small smile as she caught sight of her children, there was a tightness around her eyes that hadn't been there earlier.
Lorian, Varric's quieter, more reserved brother, noticed her demeanor and approached with a questioning glance. "Elora," he greeted her with a nod, his voice cautious. "Tough day with the Council, I take it?"
Elora's mouth twisted into a barely restrained scowl. "You could say that. Same old nonsense. The Council of Nine and their constant threats. They're too busy in their high towers to see the real struggles here. Nexuria deserves better than their empty promises."
Varric and Lorian exchanged a look, tension passing between them. Lorian's expression tightened, but he kept his voice calm. "Elora, maybe it's best to tread carefully. You know how they operate. They don't take kindly to... disagreement."
"Disagreement?" Elora scoffed, crossing her arms. "They're scared, that's what it is. They think they can control us, control me—"
"Elora," Lorian interrupted, his voice a low, warning murmur. "Remember where you are."
The children glanced at each other, sensing the tension but unsure of how to respond. Elora shot Lorian a look of irritation but took a deep breath, reining in her frustration. "Fine. I'll drop it. But they're fools if they think I'll stay silent."
Varric placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, his expression softening. "Just… keep your strength for the battles that matter. Don't let them drain it away with their games."
Elora gave him a nod, though her eyes were still hard. "You're right. They're not worth it." She straightened up, glancing over at her children, some of the tension melting from her face. "Come on, kids. Let's go home."
They gathered their things, and after bidding Varric and Lorian goodbye, the group stepped out into the evening air, the streetlights casting a soft glow over Nexuria's worn cobblestones. Elora walked slightly ahead, her eyes scanning the familiar streets, though there was a faint unease tugging at her. She had the unsettling sense of being watched, but each time she looked over her shoulder, the streets were empty, cloaked in the quiet of dusk.
Brushing it off as leftover tension from the council meeting, she led her children back through Nexuria, the chill of evening settling over them. As they approached their home, Elora's expression softened, and she managed a small smile as she saw Nachtan and Silas through the window, sitting together and talking quietly.
Nachtan's laughter, soft and tentative, reached her ears as she opened the door, and for a brief moment, the tension from the day eased away. Silas gave her a nod as she entered, his eyes meeting hers with an unspoken understanding.
Elora placed a gentle hand on Nachtan's shoulder as she passed by, offering him a rare, quiet moment of warmth. "Glad to see you back, Nachtan. Get some rest, alright?"
He nodded, his gaze following her as she moved, sensing a softness in her that hadn't been there earlier. But the moment passed quickly as she gathered her things, her mind already shifting back to the day's unresolved concerns.
As Elora moved to another room, Nachtan glanced out the window, the familiar sight of Nexuria's streets giving him a sense of calm. But as he looked into the shadows beyond, he felt a prickling unease—an echo of the same feeling his mother had brushed off.
In the empty street, hidden in the shadows, a figure watched the house, their eyes fixed on the scene inside, silent and unblinking as they waited.