Asabasha 20, 350 AOR
Atop a small, grassy hill, a cream-colored cottage sat surrounded by trees on all sides but the front, with a mixture of circular and rectangular windows adorning the sides of the home. The cottage almost looked like a part of the forest around it as vines grew around the base of the house and up to its steep, shingled roof while the supporting beams of timber enveloping the cottage looked like the trees surrounding it. It was a pleasant home, two stories tall and large enough for a family of five to live comfortably. There was even a modest garden to the right, where carrots, potatoes, and Leem Peppers grew in abundance.
A staircase led up to the entrance of the home, the polished dark wood that made up the rounded door frame colored a healthy brown with a small balcony—large enough to fit two people—set above it. To the left of the door, a bay window jutted out the front of the house; on the opposite side, past the large window between the door and the rightmost corner of the house, was a lofty brick chimney that ran up the side of the cottage. A pillar of smoke rose from the flue.
Climbing the steps and opening the door, Cal stepped into the relaxing cottage with Lisa and Lucie behind me. A glance to the right confirmed that there was a small fire burning in the fireplace which rose behind a large sofa and tea table placed between two cozy chairs.
A glimpse ahead revealed another table, its purpose entirely devoted to collecting everyone’s belongings: a doll, dozens of letters, a lantern, some plants, a few books, and—naturally—Lisa’s enormous war hammer. Additionally, past the table was a set of stairs with a landing that led the steps back toward the direction of the entrance. To the left, placed between a bench beneath the bay window and four chairs, a round table sat with a few plants and flowers atop it, only enhancing the cottage’s forest-like atmosphere. Lastly, in the corner between the stairs and the dining room, was the kitchen. The cabinets within the plant-filled room were a creamy white shade, and the counters topping them were of polished wood, similar to that of the front door. An island sat in the middle of the kitchen, numerous vegetables and meats hanging from the rack above it.
“Home at last!” Lisa rejoiced as she took her shoes off at the door and stretched her hands to the sky. “Nothing like it, huh?”
Cal removed his boots and watched Lisa walk toward the center table, sifting through the letters while humming a tune. Beside him, Lucie stared at Lisa’s back too. Then she looked at Cal, her hazel eyes crinkling in worry. With a glance to the side, Cal rolled his jaw before peeking back up.
“Mother…”
“Hm?” she hummed as she turned around, her expression as calm as ever. “What is it, sweetie?”
Cal faltered, the memories of her tear-stained face, hollow eyes, and desperate hugs she shared with Lucie following Damian’s death all so vivid. Clenching his fist, Cal took a deep breath. “We can’t prove anything, Mother. That guy—that professor… Airetore, he could just be lying, you know? His intentions are still unknown, and—”
“Cal, sweetie,” Lisa interrupted, her smile unchanging. “Damian Gray died four years ago… Nothing will change that. We’ve kept him in our hearts as we moved forward, so regardless of the cause, we just have to do what we always have.”
“But, Mother, I-I killed those people, and now—”
“We can’t prove anything, yes?” Lisa repeated Cal’s words. “What you did in those two years—cruel as it may have been—was what you believed to be right. Now, whether Mister Professor’s words are true or not—that your Father’s death is linked to something greater—it doesn’t change a thing. He died, and there’s nothing left to be done.”
Lucie took a small step forward. “We never found the body, Mother. He could be alive. What if—”
“Enough!” Lisa’s shout sliced the air, causing the room to go silent as Lucie and Cal froze, unaccustomed to such a tone coming from their mother’s lips. The matriarch inhaled deeply and turned to the kitchen. “Cal, sweetie, the decision is yours to make regarding Mister Professor’s offer, but do not let it consume you. We know what happened—you even more than us—and no matter what comes from it, we are a family who stands together, yes?”
Cal swallowed the lump in his throat before nodding as both siblings said, “Yes, Mother.”
She flipped her head around then and grinned. “Good! I’m starving, so Cal, go get cleaned up, and Lucie, come help me prepare dinner.”
Never one to disobey his mother, Cal climbed the steps, rounding the landing before he stopped, his eyes taking in the sight of the young girl sitting on the top steps. Her hazel eyes looked at Cal with a somewhat vacant expression as her dark, wavy hair fell to her shoulders and hung in front of her face. In the girl’s hands, pressed against the light blue kirtle she wore, was a stuffed rabbit, worn and gray with age.
“Eri…” Cal said as he stepped up to be at eye level with her.
When she didn’t look up, he sighed and placed a hand on her head. That got her attention, mild annoyance shining off her hazel irises as she used an arm to swat at Cal. Struggling to make him budge, she began to grumble, grumbling that soon turned to bleating.
“Stop it, Cal! You jerk!” she shouted. “You always do this!”
Her yelling persisted, but with each second she did so, the more she began to laugh, her words a jumble as she stood up and jumped at Cal with a blinding smile. Of course, Cal caught his little sister, the both of them ignoring his filthy clothes as she hugged him around the neck.
“That’s better,” Cal said before finishing the climb to the second floor.
The upstairs was essentially built into four quadrants, all separated by a hall that went straight, left, and right—a balcony at the end of the middle and rightmost hall. The hall to the right separated Cal and Lucie’s room while the hall straight off the steps ran between Cal and Eri’s room. Immediately to the left of the steps, a shorter hall led to the double doors of Damian’s old study. It was now a library of sorts, full of books, a small fireplace, and a few cozy chairs. Between the steps and the library doors was the washroom, where Cal walked to before looking at Eri.
“I need to clean up, and you need to change your dress before Lucie gets mad, okay?” he softly said.
Eri nodded, but rather than making a move to let go of him, she tightened her hold. “Caly… is everything okay?”
Cal’s heart warmed at the nickname she’d called him since she could first speak it, but a stinging sensation pricked his heart.
It was difficult talking about their father with Eri. She was seven when he died, and though that was enough time for her to know who he was and love him like a daughter would a father, the weight of his loss didn’t affect her like everyone else. That’s what Cal assumed, at least.
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“Of course, Eri,” Cal said. “A lot happened with the current raid. It has everyone a bit on edge.”
Eri seemed to accept his answer, but she still looked troubled. “Caly… are you okay?”
He paused. The question echoed through his mind like a mantra.
Was he okay?
He’d killed over a dozen people today and had a random person show up, claiming that his father’s death wasn’t all it had been made out to be. Such a line of events pointed at everything except him being okay…
“Always, Nugget,” he said with a half-hearted smile before setting her down and rubbing her head. “Now go get cleaned up and help Mother and Lucie with dinner.”
Eri grabbed at his arm with a pout on her face. “I told you I’m too old for that stupid name!”
“And I told you that you’re too old to be carrying around that toy,” Cal shot back playfully.
“I’ll stop carrying it when you start smiling again,” Eris said.
The comment didn’t mean much on the surface, but each time she repeated it, Cal had to remind himself that it had in fact been a long time since he had done so.
He was burdened with immeasurable guilt, forced to defend his family and home by training and fighting every day. There wasn’t much he could smile about. His family was everything to him, and though they were his only peace, the warmth in his heart was enough to prove his love for them—even if he didn’t show it through the upturn of his lips.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Cal said as he pushed her toward her room. “Don’t forget to change first. I’m saving your ass from Lucie’s wrath. Understand?”
Eri spun on the balls of her feet before mimicking a salute. “Yes, sir, Mr. Gray, sir.”
Cal rolled his eyes—she’d watched him train with the militia one too many times—and walked into the bathroom, taking off his shirt with one hand and tossing it in the corner before looking at the sink and mirror immediately to his right.
His body, tanned and toned from years of helping work in the Southern Fields and training to be the fighter he is, was covered in dirt and blood. But past that, many scars ran along his torso: punctures that tore through both sides, lacerations that ran every which way, and even burn scars created by the few mages he’d fought against.
Cal didn’t spend a lot of time looking at them—he never did—each wound a vivid memory, a vivid nightmare. He sighed and drew the tub, ensuring the water was warm enough to rid himself of the chilly rain and overwhelming thoughts plaguing his body and mind.
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Walking down the steps, freshly dressed and still drying his mop of hair with a towel, Cal walked into the kitchen to see Lucie finishing dinner while Lisa fixed Eri’s hair into a rope braid. The oldest sibling looked mildly annoyed—having to handle dinner by herself again—so of course, Cal did his brotherly duty of making it harder on her.
Tossing his dirty towel over Lucie’s head, Cal made certain to block her vision, causing the disgruntled twenty-one-year-old to shriek as she clawed at the towel.
“You disgusting barbarian! What the hell is wrong with you? Stop it this instant! Mother!” she cried out.
Cal learned long ago not to stretch out his teasings, so he quickly removed the towel and placed a peck on his sister’s cheek before pushing her head away and taking a seat at the dining room table’s bench after pressing a kiss on the top of Eri and Lisa’s head.
“You’re too old to be messing with your sister, sweetie,” Lisa lightly reprimanded Cal, still braiding Eri’s hair.
“She had it coming,” Cal shrugged, sitting crisis-crossed before grabbing a nearby pitcher of water and sprinkling the table’s flowers with it.
Not a second later, Cal was doused with water himself. When he pushed his hair back, he found Lucie smirking at him as she retracted her hand and brought the pot of beef soup to the table. She set it down and tapped Cal’s cheek.
“You had it coming. Now be sure to clean up your mess,” she said before going back to the kitchen to grab a plate of bread and the bowls and spoons needed for the meal.
Cal looked at Lisa for help, though she merely hummed a tune and finished fixing Eri’s hair. When she did, Eri hopped down and joined Cal on the bench once he dried up the small puddle of water Lucie had doused him with. Eri’s feet kicked as she looked at him expectantly.
He spared her a glance before grabbing the bowls and spreading them to everyone’s seats. “You look pretty, Nugget.”
Despite her supposed hatred of the nickname, Eri’s cheeks still reddened as she grinned and stood on the bench, grabbing the ladle to pour herself some soup. Cal glanced at her, amused by her antics, and looked out the window as he stretched his arms over the back of the bench.
Nighttime had fallen, and with it came the night sky’s beauty. Millions of stars peppered the dark abyss; dust clouds of red, blue, and green meshed into a myriad of colors while the Five Sibling Moons appeared most brilliantly.
Bereema, an orange-red shade, was the smallest, barely the size of the pinky’s fingernail when one’s arm was outstretched. It was often unseen as its siblings were much bigger, more so when next to the light blue giant that was Seline, its surface full of craters and expansive ravines that wrapped around its entirety. Phari was a deeper red shade, but due to the Sister Suns’ reflection off of it, the moon never appeared full; instead, it appeared like a triangle with a rounded bottom, and only once a month would Phari get to show off even half of itself. Arapho, with a gentle, almost dull luster, captivated most merely because of its silver coloring, but also because it was the opposite of Phari as it was always full, never being cast into the shadows. Then there was Jomu, a pale yellow rock that was the size of a closed fist if held a foot from one’s face.
Cal recalled the few books he’d read in Dirah’s office about what existed outside of the world of Lumiriahn. Most never questioned it, always busy with researching the Magic Arts or fighting one another. However, when the Age of War ceased and the Age of Resolve took its place, many began to question what existed outside of Lumiriahn. Cal wasn’t necessarily of the same mindset, but he took pleasure in learning what he could.
“Get a bowl, sweetie,” Lisa’s voice drew him from his thoughts and the sky; however, as he turned back to the table, his eye caught something.
That something was a suit-wearing man currently walking up the hill to their house, his charcoal-colored hair and striking blue eyes almost seeming to glow beneath the night sky’s shine.
“Shit,” Cal muttered before rising from the table and rushing to the door.
Ignoring Lucie’s questioning words, Cal ripped the door open, hoping to catch the professor before he reached the porch; however, when he did so, Airetore was already leaning against the door frame with a charming smile.
“Lovely night, yes, brat?”
“What are you doing here? And how did you walk a hundred feet in less than three seconds?” Cal questioned him.
“Get your shoes on,” he said instead, ignoring Cal’s sputtering as he leaned in the doorway and smiled. “Evening, ladies. Dinner smells wonderful. Beef soup?”
“Yes. Would you care for a bite, Mr. Professor?” said Lisa.
“Not now, ma’am, but I’ll be borrowing this little guy for a few hours,” Airetore said before looking down at Cal. “You may want your weapons too.”
Understanding that he wouldn’t ever get a leg up on the professor and that he might be there regarding the investigation, Cal turned around and grabbed his blades from the middle table before throwing on his boots and returning to the door.
“I’ll be back,” Cal grumbled before moving to close the door.
However, Airetore peeked his head back in with a lopsided grin. “I’ll have him back safe and sound, just save me a bowl for when I return!”
“Will do, Mr. Professor!”
Cal grabbed the professor and pulled him from the door, but Airetore relented, looking in one last time. “Thanks, Mrs. Lisa! I’ll be back!”
“Like hell, you will!” Cal snapped as he finally yanked the professor from the entrance— coincidentally closing the door—and dragged him down the front steps.
“You’re rather cruel, you know?” Airetore pointed at Cal, prodding the younger man in the shoulder as Cal adjusted his sheaths and they began the descent down the hill.
“Fuck off, and stop trying to flirt with my mother.”
“Flirt? Me? Never!” Airetore proclaimed. “I’ve just not eaten a home-cooked meal from a beautiful woman in so long!” he swooned.
“First, my sister made it, and second, why don’t you stop ogling the woman whose dead husband you’re investigating?” Cal grounded out.
“Fair,” Airetore said. “However, that food did smell delicious. I’d love to try it sometime.”
“Prove you’re not full of shit and maybe I’ll give you the scraps.”
Airetore clicked his tongue before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Prick.”
“Back at you,” Cal bleated before glancing at Airetore. “So what’s first?”
Airetore was silent for a moment. Then he looked at Cal with a stony expression. “We’re going right to where it all happened… The Throle Woods.