Author's Note: | My brain was slush after finals week. I needed to take a break for several days. I tried writing, but everything was super bleh, so I just decided a break was needed. |

She raises her hands with a tender, gentle touch as she reaches upwards to touch my cheeks. Her eyes well with tears before she pulls me towards her as we hug one another while Micheal steps from between us. He glances towards us with a tilted head as he covers his face with his tasty treat. 

My mother says as her voice grows strained, "I can't believe it. You're back. They told us you died. They told us that my baby had died..."

Her heavy sadness strikes me with a mixture of grief and guilty happiness. The fact that I meant so much to her gives me a delight that weighs me down with rightful feelings of sadness at my mother's grief, yet a prevalent happiness overwhelms any concerns I may have over her sadness. 

That was then, this is now. After several moments, her happy sadness infects me as my own eyes water before pulls away from me for a moment as she stares at my face before she picks at a few spots of my hair before she brushes invisible dirt from my clothes. She purses her lips once more before she pulls me close.

She always had this way of caring over the small details while dodging the larger picture. Even though I look so different, she notices the tiny mistakes in my hair or tiny smudges on my cheek before she sees me as anything else besides her son having com home. The feeling gives me a strength and comfort that pushes against my back spurring me forward.

After several minutes, we pull away from one another before tilt my head backwards towards the house behind us saying, "Would you mind sharing some of todays batch? Perhaps even for free?"

She nods before she pulls me by my hand as she says, "Let's get some food in you dear. You'll be needing something else to wear besides that old beaten down robe as well."

I catch up to her before I grab her other hand holding her hostage with the gesture. I shrug my shoulder towards Micheal before I say, "You can't forget Micheal here."

I let go of her hand before I trot over and lean down on one knee as I say, "Hello there Micheal. It's good to meet you. My name's Pyrex."

He hides behind his roll of bread before he says, "Are you my brig brother?"

I nod before I grin saying, "The bad guys didn't get me!" I strike a pose with my right arm towards the sky while I lower my gaze. After a second, I lift my gaze as I pull my arm back down saying, 

"I escaped using my super powers."

He stares as his eyes widen with wonder before he lowers his bread from in front of his face saying, "Woooo. You have super powers?"

I smile before gesture my hands in a rainbow shape saying, "I performed super special training for them. I'll show them to you later, but I need fuel before I go inside. You you care to come with us?"

He nods his head before I offer my hand to him saying, "Then let's go Micheal. We can't let mom wait any longer can we?"

He reaches his hand out with a slow and steady movement before I grab onto his hand with a firm gentleness. He says, "You have big hands."

I grin before I say, "And you have a big heart. Thank you for keeping mom safe all these years I was gone."

He reddens for a moment before I stand for a moment saying to mom, "Let's go!"

We enter the bakery's front door before my father walks up saying, "Good to see another customer. Care to try today's special..."

The same crooked grin I gave my mom appears before he wobbles on his feet. Before he falls down, he catches himself on the edge of a chair before he blinks several times saying, "Is that..."

I raise an eyebrow as I say, "The one and only."

He lowers his gaze while catching his face in his hands for a moment before he lands on his knees. I walk over with Micheal before I lean downwards saying, "I'm here. I'm still here."

He weeps in his hands as his emotions overwhelm him. My father never hid his feelings. My mother controlled herself as he let himself go, and she would often ask him for advice with handling her squabbles with other townsfolk.

The same openness that gave him his softness gives him a sincerity when he talks with others. He may make real enemies with his unrelenting honesty, but he makes even more friends.

In my eyes, he shows true strength by showing himself to others. Whenever you show a person your inner feelings and emotions, you render yourself vulnerable, but this eliminates the distance between you and the people who see you in this state. 

Regardless, Micheal shows his familiarity with dad's breaking down as he walks up patting his shoulder. Micheal says, "It's alright daddy. Brother has super powers."

Dad laughs for a moment before he shakes his head and wipes his tears. We stand up together before we hug one another for a few seconds. He pats my back with his signature hugging technique from before he tucked me in to sleep every night.

My mom puts her hands on her hips as her cinnamon and dough covered apron shifts. She says, "Who's ready for a bite to eat?"

Micheal raises a hand saying, "Ooh, me, me!"

She nods before she looks at me saying, "You heard the man. Let's get to work. You still remember how to bake right?"

I roll my eyes before I say, "I baked for fifteen years. It's in my blood at this point."

She raises her head so that she looks down at me before she says, "Oh really? Care to make it a competition then?"

I connect my hands before I crack my fingers saying, "Are you sure you aren't already baking something?"

She squints her eyes in confusion for a second before I snap my words, "Cause you're about to get burned."

Micheal laughs while my father shakes his head saying, "Oh Gaia. There back again."

I motion my hand towards him like I'm throwing pushing him away from me before I say, "Don't tell me you never missed my puns."

My mother smiles before she says while grinning mischievously, "Stop stalling there Pyrex."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I sprint of towards the kitchen as I say, "You're the one falling behind. Come on, the clocks ticking."

She stands with her eyes glaring at me for a moment before she shuffles behind the kitchen hissing, "Trying to cheat me out of beating you. I'll show you what a life spent in the kitchen will do."

My tentacles and horns move without disrupting any of my motions while I grab and mold flour with palm seed oil, cinnamon, and sugar. With a pinch of salt, nutmeg and yeast, the rolled flour transforms from dry dust into a thick paste, and by working in a cupful of water, the moisture hits the perfect consistency for the fluffy, warm texture of delicious bread.

I may be a soldier, but I'm a chef as well, at least in my eyes. I wonder what Allure will think of my talents whenever she finds out. No doubt she will relish any luxuries I can offer her since she loves enjoying herself in any aspect.

After we place the bread in the stove, my mother says, "You know, it's wonderful that you've managed to grow so much, but...well...How did you survive?"

I bite my inner lip before I gaze down saying, "I'm different now then before...It's amazing how war changes a man yet war...war never changes."

My father leans against the counter of the front of the bakery as he says to us saying his words with a precise slowness as though walking around broken glass, "It's alright son. We heard you've taken more tours than any other soldier in the last decade."

My mother nods before she grabs my hand saying, "I know you've been through a lot, but you can explain it in time. We're just glad your home."

My father smiles before he says lifting his chest and beaming with pride, "And a hero. You're the very epitome of what this nation strives for. 'Serve the state. Serve yourself.'"

I touch my nose as I say with a measure of unease, "A hero for a state that causes what however?"

He squints before he words while tilting his head and crossing his arms, "The state that taught you how to fight against The Fog. The state that protects us. The state that serves the Magna Alma. That's what we were told at least."

I clench my teeth for a moment before I say, "It's a question of what they've done. I've been there dad. They don't just send us on missions to fight the fog."

He scratches the back of his neck before glancing sideways. He then stares at me saying, "Would you mind telling us?"

My mother places a hand under and over my right hand as she says, "It's ok son. We know it isn't easy. We know that every day may have been hell. You're not there anymore. Your here now. You don't have to relive those memories just to satisfy our curiosity."

My father nods before he says, "We just want to know if it will help you to tell someone about it. We've seen troops comeback...Some have broken minds. Others are crippled without any way to even speak. They just...hiss gibberish about beetles and flying monsters."

The Empire never informed the public about the severity of The Fog's invasion. Most people don't even know what or who the enemies we're fighting day in and day out. They just accept what they are told. I followed the same mindset as my parents before I met Gorge as well. I have a lot of ground to cover to make up for my past wrongdoings. 

It starts with this first step. I say with a fragile opening statement, "Could you take Micheal somewhere and close the store for the day?"

They glance at each other for a moment before dad says, "Of course. I'll be back in a few moments."

He takes Micheal upstairs while mom locks the front door while closing the blinds. After several moments, I say handling my words with the care of an antiquer carrying his prized vase, "You both must be wondering why I'm wearing these clothes and why I came back without the military as an escort. Right?"

They glance at one another before my mother says while placing the side of her face on her hand, "It was...well...yes. we were, but we didn't want you to feel unwelcome."

My clenches his fists as he says with a quiet resolve, "We don't care if you look different son. We could see how different you are under that cloak. I wanted you to know, and I think I speak for both of us when I say, we will love you regardless of how you look. You are still our son. To hell with everything else."

His words tap a gentler side of me as I lower my gaze. I breathe a deep breathe before I shake my head saying, "I don't really know what I am anymore though...I don't know if I'm even human."

My father slams the edge of the counter as he says with eyes of fury and the might of iron, "We found out that our son returned from the dead after ten years of fighting in war. I never expected you to look the same. I don't care if you're a demon. I'm just glad we have our son back."

My shoulders hunch before I sigh saying, "Be prepared."

They nod before I remove my cloak tossing my loosely tied fabric from my body. 

I grimace as I say feeling the weight in my own words, "I'm a monster aren't I?"

Author's note: 

Here is my other fiction, Monsters Dwell in Men - http://royalroadl.com/fiction/4884

Ratings, favorites, and follows help bolster my moral, and if you guys want to offer a cup of coffee as appreciation for my stories, here's my patreon:https://www.patreon.com/Monsoon117?ty=h

Patrons get cool stuff like:

     * Seeing the next three chapters of both my fictions!

     *Access to exclusive Chapters!

    *Options to add to the story with a char or a scene, and more!