Like always, Uncle Romeo arrived at our place in a smooth onyx V-Series. The flawless metallic sheen made it seem like he’d just rolled it out of a wash. Tinted shades on an already black car. Both me and Alex were on the stoop outside the house, playing the warning signal for Ma. But we had our own reasons to wait on the doorstep.

Romeo usually had gifts. Which Ma hated. It’d been two years since we last saw him, and he was sure to have something good.

Romeo slid out, wearing a simple navy suit tailored to fit well. Blessing the street with shoes worth more than half the people who regularly walked on them. His two sharp brown eyes ran over us than over the neighborhood as he closed the door to his V-Series. Romeo strode closer, gaunt but paradoxically confident to the supreme, the sun caught a glint of his gold watch at his wrist. I’d never seen him in anything less than slacks and a dress shirt.

Guess working in finance had its perks.

A smile broke his harsh visage. “Ah, my passerotti, you both are still driving your mother crazy, yes?”

“Well, yeah. Gotta keep her on her toes.” I gave him a lopsided smirk, anticipation bubbling as he withdrew a hand from his back. Newspaper and duct tape wrapped our two presents. He didn’t warn us, instead opting to casually chuck them at us. We scrambled.

“Come, come. Open them! Before your mother sees.”

I let Alex go first, he ripped apart the newspaper to reveal a pocket knife. He turned it over, mouth ajar. It was a nice metal piece, with a button press, the blade sprang outward. Serrated and four inches long. Alex immediately shoved the blade away, nervous eyes turning to the door. Ma was far too busy finishing dinner. He began to utter a quick ‘thank you,' but Romeo put a finger to his own lips, giving a wink. Romeo nodded in my direction.

Did I get one too? A knife like that would be pretty handy if a fight went out of control. I yanked the newspaper free, tossing it in the yard. I expected to see a glint of steel, instead, inside was a jade bottle stoppered with a cork. I popped the cork. There was a single perfectly spherical pill within. Drugs? I tilted my head. The alchemical products I’d seen on the street never came in such an elaborate bottle, Romeo wasn't exactly the type to push drugs.

He chuckled, reading my expression like a professional. Romeo closed the distance and leaned in for a whisper. “Your mother says you have a Soul Seed, no?”

“I-yea, I do.” I blinked. As far as I was aware, the two didn’t talk much anymore. With Romeo always busy, and the fact that after my father died, they never seemed to leave a gathering happy with one another.

Romeo ruffled my hair, for once I was too distracted by the pill to break out my comb and yell at him for ruining my hard work. “There will be a point you shall crack free from your shell—your Soul Seed will desire to sprout. This will be where you break past the first bottleneck. Take this once you’ve reached it, and you’ll reach the next stage stronger than you would otherwise. Beware, passerotto, this is not an easy path. And your heavenly tribulation will reflect that."

I stared. There was a loose idea of what he meant in my head. I’d known other cultivators in the Brass Kings, those who could Manifest their Souls. They’d broken through the first bottleneck, but nobody spelled out their experience to me, why would they?

The door swung open, and I shoved the jade bottle away. Ma looked at us all, her face a mixture of surprise and horror. “Romeo!” angry eyes turned to us. “You two! Why didn’t you say anything!? How long has your Uncle been out here! Come in, dinner will be done soon. Show Romeo to the table.”

He gave us a wink and ruffled my hair again. Irritating the hell out of me, before walking into our house like he belonged there. I let Alex go first—breaking out my comb to fix his damage.

After fixing the mess he made, I followed them inside. Our whole house reeked of oregano and garlic, a staple of almost all of Ma’s cooking. She, of course, picked a traditional meal for our uncle. Spending far too much on ingredients to impress. Even if it meant the next couple of days we'd be eating cereal with water. A pang of guilt hit me. If I’d been a little less greedy maybe… No, it was Tristan’s fault. He was the bastard who took what was mine.

I shook my head, forcing the anger down, and took my seat in a wooden chair around the dining room table, making sure to take the one with a wobbly leg, so Romeo didn't. I leaned an elbow on the surface of the worn table. The weight of the tucked-way jade bottle was painfully present. Our only ceramic dishes littered the surface of the otherwise spartan dining room.

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“Ah, to be so young. We all wish to regain such vigor, no? The whole world still a spring flower in bloom,” Romeo said as Ma scurried to the kitchen.

“Naw, aint like that. More problems than anything,” I wasn’t playing this game. “What do ya know about cultivation?” I really wanted to ask where he got the pill, but refrained.

“Why bother with such pointless questions, we should enjoy time together, no?” Romeo folded his arms, watching the entrance to the kitchen. Alex shuffled in his seat, messing with an empty plate. “Far too long since I’ve seen my two passerotti. Will you tell me how your school has fared?”

Thankfully, Alex cut in first, excited to talk about his classes. His passion for history, and what he’d learned about the Crimson Sect War, all of it boring to me, but Romeo humored him, mirroring Alex’s raw excitement. All the while, I evaluated my uncle. In the past, Romeo tended to keep details about himself close to the chest. Usually doing whatever it was Alex and I wanted when he visited. Obviously, I couldn’t bring up all the questions I wanted to ask when Ma was so close. I ground my teeth, quite irritated with the situation.

“And you, Luca?”

“What’dya mean? How are ya going to ask a question like that when you didn’t tell me what you knew about cultivation?”

“It would be a waste of air to explain, my dear passerotto. Besides, some questions are important to answer for yourself. We’re family. Blood is valuable, trust me. Come, I haven’t seen you in two years. I’d much rather hear about your life. It has been far too long.”

I frowned. “Things are alright, okay? Aint much to say. I go to school, I work, and I try to help out around here.”

“Not always.” My mother wandered in with a beautifully arranged centerpiece of lobster. Living on the coast, New Valentine overflowed with fine and cheap seafood. But despite that, I couldn’t recall ever having such a visually stunning dish. Sprawled around the crimson lobster were piles of succulent linguine pasta coated in olive oil and garlic. Roasted tomato colored the dish, giving the whole thing a splash of red and green. I nearly drooled from just the sight. “Unfortunately, my son has taken to skipping school. Though, at times it’s for work.”

“Oh? Is that so? My nephew must work somewhere nice, no? Somewhere productive to his future to be sacrificing so much of his precious education.” Romeo gave Ma a wide smile. “This looks divine, grazi!”

“I uh, I work at a grocery store,” I said.

“Mhmm, and this store, where is it?”

“Er—ma and pop shop. Near Uptown.”

“Ah, I see. I see. You must be very valued for them to ask you to work—despite being at school. Usually, those types of stores are quite understanding of the need for education. However, some owners can be a bit abusive. You would mention if they mistreated you, no?” The tray made its way around, and we each took turns shoveling food onto our plates.

“No uh, it’s fine. Just trying to earn some chips to help out around here,” I scratched the back of my neck, face red. If Romeo seemed to notice, he didn’t show it.

“Ah. I see.” He nodded, reaching into his suit jacket.

He set an envelope on the table. Ma paused, tongs hovering over her plate and clutching linguine. She looked between Romeo and the envelope. He flicked the flap open, revealing a check. I couldn’t see the number written on it, yet whatever it was caused Ma’s skin to go pale. She dropped the serving tongs, pasta flopping onto the table.

“No.”

“Ancilla, take it. I want to help you and my nephews.”

“No.” She said once more, her voice rising.

“I will not be taking that check with me. Take it to the bank. It’s a gift, yes?”

“I will not accept that kind of money, Romeo. We’ve talked about this.”

Romeo sighed, but still pushed the envelope towards her. Ma grimaced, then quicker than I could process or interject, grabbed the check. She held it firmly between her hands, ripping it in a sudden jerk, then she grabbed the torn pieces and shredded them further.

Silence reigned in the dining room

“Eat. Enjoy the food I made,” she said, throwing the scraps of paper on the ground. “I slaved away in the kitchen for it.” As if nothing happened, she retrieved the tongs to take a second stab at platting her pasta.

“Why’d ya go and do that Ma!? How much did he try to give ya?!”

“Quiet, Luca. Eat your food. Please.”

I glared, shoving myself up from the table and looking at the scraps of paper. Just what the hell was she thinking? I scrambled to collect the torn pieces, only to have a wooden spoon meet the back of my hands, her furious eyes burning into me.

“Go to your room.”

Our glares clashed, yet something lurked behind that anger of hers. Was that fear? I stopped. What the fuck was she afraid about?

“Please, Luca.”

I dropped the shreds of torn dreams. And took one last glance at Romeo who was busy turning pasta on his fork, seemingly content to let this moment slide. “Fuck this!” I shoved a big piece of delicious lobster meat in my mouth and gave the table one last scowl. Then I left out the front door, slamming it behind me.