"Are you okay?"
Lucian Solare Faelith, 7 years old, asked a boy who seemed older than him by a few years. Judging by their height difference, Lucian guessed the boy was around the same age as his older brother.
The older boy didn't respond. Instead, he turned around to ensure the child talking to him couldn't see his face, which made Lucian pout.
Lucian wasn't used to being ignored.
After all, he was the apple of his family's eye.
But...
Despite how young he was, he wasn't stupid.
His family—or rather, his mother—had woken him up early in the morning to inform him they had to attend a funeral. Lucian knew what a funeral was because he had already been to one before—his grandfather's funeral.
He knew that once funerals were held for someone, they never returned to the people who loved them because they were dead.
'Dying sounds scary,' Lucian once thought, fearing the idea that one day his parents might be the ones who never returned. But being a child, his thoughts of death faded away naturally—until today.
"My... condo... condo..." He was trying hard to repeat the words guests had offered to his father the day his grandfather died, the same words he heard his mother say earlier to this very boy. Lucian had seen him slip out into the gardens while all the people paying their respects were busy.
"...condomences?" Condomences. That felt right. It felt like the right word to say.
Lucian thought it must be correct, because as soon as he said it, the sniffles and sobs from the older boy came to a halt, replaced by a quiet "Pfft."
That was always a good sign because, as far as Lucian knew, laughter was never a bad thing.
'So that's why everyone says that to sad people... It's like a magic spell that turns sadness into happiness.'
"My condomences to you," Lucian repeated, more confidently this time, as he took a curious yet cautious step closer.
Truthfully, the only reason Lucian followed the boy was that he hadn't met many kids his own age, except for his older brother. His parents rarely let him out, claiming he was too young.
When they arrived at the funeral, Lucian barely got a look at the boy's face. So, when he noticed the boy slipping outside, he decided to follow. Surprisingly, his mother didn't stop him, which gave him a good chance to talk to him.
He hadn't expected to find the boy crying, though.
The closer Lucian got, the clearer it became that the boy wasn't crying anymore. He was laughing.
For some reason, this time, the kind of laughter he heard didn't seem like the positive kind. It reminded him of how his older brother would laugh when he was playing tricks on him.
The boy wasn't laughing with Lucian—he was laughing at him!
This realization made Lucian huff, his pout breaking free as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, his tone now demanding.
"My apologies," the boy finally said, stifling his laughter. He went from covering his face to covering his mouth, though his back remained turned, still hiding his expression. "But you... pfft... said the word wrong."
"What?" Lucian felt his face heat up. "I-I said it wrong?"
The boy nodded, still trying his best to stop laughing. "It's condolences, not condomences. Condomences isn't even a real word!"
Lucian felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. Embarrassment burned his cheeks, and his lips trembled as he tried not to cry. He was seven, after all—practically a grown-up in his own eyes. But being laughed at, especially after trying so hard to be nice, felt unfair.
"I was just trying to cheer you up!" he blurted, his voice quivering despite his best effort to sound strong. He stomped his foot and glared at the boy's back. "I know funerals are sad, okay? And I just... I just thought you might need someone to talk to!"
The boy froze for a moment, his shoulders stiffening, before he turned slightly, enough for Lucian to see the side of his face.
"I'm sorry," the boy said softly, his voice no longer mocking. He lowered his hand from his mouth, his tone now serious. "I shouldn't have laughed. That wasn't fair to you."
Lucian sniffled but didn't say anything, his little fists clenching at his sides.
The boy hesitated before speaking again. "I'm Adrian. Adrian Veloran Averin."
Lucian blinked. He recognized that name instantly. Averin. The blue house.
From his lessons, Lucian already knew about the four major houses in the kingdom. Red, blue, green, and his own—purple. Each house held significant power.
The red house led the kingdom's army, ensuring the kingdom's protection. The green house led the churches and guided the people's faith. The blue house controlled the magic tower, overseeing all things mystical and magical. And the purple house—his house—managed the kingdom's wealth, businesses, and economy.
Lucian suddenly realized why his mother had brought him and his older brother to this funeral, even though she rarely let him go anywhere. This wasn't just any funeral.
Adrian was from the blue house. And if Adrian was here, standing alone and sad, it could only mean one thing. Lucian's stomach twisted.
Two people must have died. The duke and duchess of Averin.
Adrian's parents.
The realization made Lucian's heart sink. As much as he wanted to stay mad and pout, he couldn't. Adrian had lost both of his parents. Lucian couldn't imagine how that must feel.
Lucian wiped his eyes quickly and turned back toward Adrian. This time, he stood straighter and tried to remember what his tutor taught him about manners when meeting important people.
"I'm Lucian," he said, his voice softer now. "Lucian Solare Faelith." He hesitated, his little hands fiddling nervously before he added, "From the purple house."
"Yes, I know who you are. The Duchess of Faelith often talks about you to my....parents." Adrian finally turned to face him fully, and Lucian froze.
The boy was handsome. His blond hair shimmered like gold in the sunlight filtering through the garden trees, and his blue eyes sparkled even though they were slightly puffy from crying. Lucian's heart thudded loudly in his chest, and he didn't understand why.
He'd seen plenty of people before, and no one had ever made him feel like this.
Adrian's lips quirked into the smallest of smiles. "Nice to meet you, Lucian."
Lucian blinked a few times, realizing he had been staring. He felt his cheeks heat up again, but this time, it wasn't because of embarrassment—it was... something else. Something he didn't quite understand.
"Uh..." Lucian cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. "Nice to meet you, too."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Lucian glanced down at his shoes, then back up at Adrian.
"You don't have to stay out here by yourself," Lucian said quietly. "If you want, I can stay with you. Funerals are... um... not fun." He didn't know what else to say, but he didn't want Adrian to be alone.
Adrian studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said simply.
Lucian's pout softened, and a small smile tugged at his lips.
The two boys sat down together on the garden bench. They didn't talk much, but it didn't feel awkward. Lucian found himself sneaking glances at Adrian every now and then, still feeling that strange thumping in his chest.
He didn't know why Adrian made him feel this way, but he knew one thing for sure. He wanted to stay friends with him.
Forever.