“You call that weird? What about inviting me to come along without even a single passive-aggressive remark?” Morok pointed out. “I’m not mister golden boy, here.” He jabbed his thumb at Nalrond.
“Your parents can’t stand me, yet when Quylla told them she was coming alone, they insisted I should accompany her.”
“That’s indeed weird.” The Agni nodded. “What did you do? I mean, recently.”
“I did nothing! Wrong I mean.” Morok rushed to add once he noticed a mean glare. “I’m helping Quylla manage the household in your parents’ absence, taking administration classes, and working with Lith, Ryla, and Tista to study our eyes.”
“He’s telling the truth.” Quylla nodded. “Sure, he made a few social blunders here and there, but nothing worth a scolding in person. Morok has come a long way since he was a haggard, unkempt, foul-mouthed Ranger who only wanted to laze around.”
“Hey!” He said in outrage.
“What? I was giving you credit where credit is due.” Quylla chuckled.
“Then why did it sound like an insult?” He asked with a snort.
Morok didn’t feel disrespected because she would always defend him in public and point out his mistakes only behind closed doors. Or, like in this case, in the presence of their family.
“Guilty conscience?” She straightened the lapels of his shirt while looking for food stains, failing to find them only due to the self-cleaning properties of the enchanted clothes.
“It’s not funny!”
“But it’s true.” Quylla shrugged. “You have to clean your act better. If not for me, do it for the babies. Or when they grow up, they’ll be the laughing stock of their peers.”
“Over my dead body!” The Tyrant snarled in fury at the hypothetical bullying. “Damn, being a noble is no way as fun as I dreamed.”
“I hear you, brother.” Nalrond groaned, fist-bumping the Tyrant.
The two men took most of the lessons about nobility together, including geography, history, etiquette, and law. The only silver lining was that as men they weren’t expected to play an instrument but to be able to fight, something they both needed no basic training about.
“Mom! Dad!” Quylla said, waving her hand.
The four of them had traveled from Unama to the country house with Warp Steps, reaching their destination just in time to finish their conversation.
“Hi, sweetie!” Jirni waved back and smiled at her guests, creeping everyone out.
“It smiles! It must be a trap. Run for your lives!” Morok tried to bolt but Quylla nailed him to the ground.
“Don’t be an idiot!” She grunted. “My mother would never make a trap so obvious.”
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“Damn sure.” She nodded. “Hide behind me and keep a Spirit Steps at the ready, just in case.”
“Right, the old hag would never endanger her grandchildren.”
“Yeah, but don’t call her an old hag. She’s my m-”
“Dear, the kids have arrived. Come to meet them!” Jirni waddled to them, hugging them one at the time and freezing Quylla in horror.
“Is everything alright, Mom? You look and act… different.” Friya asked.
Jirni wore no makeup, making her newfound youthful appearance stand out as much as her unusual cheery mood.
“Because I am, silly, but let’s continue this conversation after your father arrives.” Jirni replied, happy of her findings with Invigoration.
Orion stepped through a dimensional door, covered in sweat. His armor and blade were full of cracks, his hair caked with dirt and blood.
“Dad!” Quylla rushed to him but he kept her hands away. “Are you alright? Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.” He took a deep breath and activated a healing spell to heal his wounds and a darkness spell to clean himself.
Healing magic would hasten his body recovery and build muscles whereas Invigoration would restore his energy but also throw the results of his training in the gutter.
“I was just sparring with a friend and we got carried away. Please, follow us inside the house.” Orion opened another Steps that led to the dining room.
Once everyone was in, the dimensional opening faded and countless arrays sealed the room and compressed space, ensuring their privacy even against Spirit Spells.
“What’s going on?” Friya looked at Jirni with Life Vision, to make sure it was really her.
“Standard security protocols, as you should know.” Lady Ernas’ voice lost its cheerfulness as she sat on the nearest couch. “Before I explain you why I’ve called you here, there’s something you should see.”
Orion leaned to her and she shaved him air magic, demonstrating great skill and tenderness.
“Where’s Dad and why did you kept the existence of our younger brother a secret from us until now?” Friya said in shock.
Orion now looked just a bit older than Friya and Quylla and the “resemblance” with their father was undeniable just like the idea that one of their parents had cheated on the other was preposterous.
“Thanks, Little Rainbow, but it’s really me. I am your father.” Orion said with a somber expression and tone that would have made Lith regret missing the scene, were he to know about it. “Use Life Vision if you don’t believe me.”
Everyone followed his advice, confirming Orion’s identity and more.
“Wait a second! The old man has a bright violet core whereas this guy is barely above violet.” Morok said while unsheathing his twin battle hammers.
“And that’s not all.” Jirni took off her cloaking ring and released a deep yellow aura, quickly followed by Orion.
“You are not my parents!” Quylla snarled, conjuring hard-light constructs whose destructive power exceeded the bright violet core. “They are not Awakened. You are impostors.”
“Really?” The non-Jirni rolled her eyes in a very Jirni-like way. “And pray tell, why would impostors be dumb enough to reveal themselves without springing their trap and neutralizing you first?”
“Uhm.” Quylla replied.
“We are both pregnant and that’s undeniable as well.” Jirni continued. “Take my hands and use Invigoration. Unless you think I’ve eaten a baby for this façade.”
Quylla could see her little sister’s energy signature and core from a distance with Life Vision. On top of that, the two mana flows from mother and daughter were too intertwined for the baby to be just carried in a secret pouch.
“Fine.” She nodded. “Guys, stay on your toes.”
“I resent that, Little One.” Orion threw away his equipment, revealing that he was shirtless and a physique that made the two younger men feel like couch potatoes in comparison. “There. Happy now?”
“Please, keep your pants on. Please, keep your pants on. Please, keep your pants on.” Morok begged, incapable of averting his eyes from the raw, savage splendor of Orion’s body.
“What the heck are you rambling on, Moron?” Orion snarled.
“That’s Orion!” Nalrond said. “I’d recognized the pulsing vein on his forehead among thousands.”
“And this is Mom.” Quylla said before moving in front of Orion and examining him as well. “What’s happened to you, Dad? How can you be Awakened, younger, and have lost part of your powers?”
“Please, sit down.” A wave of Jirni’s hand moved the chairs and conjured sweets and hot tea. “This is going to be a long story.”
Then, she told them everything that had happened behind the scenes after Phloria’s death.
