By midday, I decided to mostly do nothing - well, it wasn't really my choice. I had to spend the day with Miss Marie, but then I'd be free, but with that freedom, I really didn't want to do much.
Everyone else seemed lively, though.
It might have looked like a perfectly normal rest of the day, but it wasn't.
In our backyard, my six-year-old sister was very earnestly trying to murder Sera.
Maren was circling her like a wolf who had somehow talked herself into hunting a full-grown lion.
Sera rolled her shoulders, casually spinning the practice sword in one hand.
"Ready?" she asked.
"I was born ready," Maren declared and swung her wooden sword.
They were training, and the fight started.
Well - I interrupted my own thoughts too often - It was a 'fight'.
Sera didn't even step back.
She simply tilted her wrist and tap-parried the strike with effortless precision , and Maren's entire balance shifted.
My sister stumbled, regained her footing, and attacked again.
Sera deflected each blow so smoothly the movements barely registered as motion.
"You're leading too much with your body. You're fighting with a sword; use it. It doesn't work otherwise, except when you're fighting with your body. But seeing now often you are on the ground, you're barely fighting with anything at all," Sera said mockingly.
Maren yelped when she was hit, then recovered and went right back into swinging.
"When you're fighting someone stronger, smaller, or smarter-"
"I am smart," Maren mumbled into the ground.
"You must adapt," Sera continued, ignoring the protest. "Raw talent won't save you, especially against someone who has more experience."
Maren pushed herself up after she was thrown down again, eyes blazing with determination.
"Again," she said with an inner fire.
"Love the spirit," Sera said, "but fix your stance fir-"
Maren lunged.
For a heartbeat - just one singular moment - I thought she'd surprise Sera.
Even Sera lifted an eyebrow.
And the next instant Maren's sword was on the ground five feet away, and Sera had her pinned with one boot lightly on her shoulder, not trying to hurt her, just… asserting her strength, but as Maren flailed around, Sera pressed further.
"Yield?"
Maren flared up. "NEVER!"
"Wrong answer," Sera laughed cheerfully and flipped her onto her back like she weighed nothing.
Sera stepped back, twirling the sword. She was clearly amused by Maren's antics.
If I had been an adult, which in a way I was, I would have been annoyed. Having to deal with a hyperactive kid sounded like the worst.
Maren scowled, sword dragging in the dirt. "I'll beat you someday."
Sera leaned forward towards Maren and poked her forehead. "I'm counting on it," she said teasingly.
There was a sort of admiration in her voice.
And for a moment, Maren looked like she had just been handed the greatest quest in the world.
"Alright, again," Sera said.
It was kind of cathartic to watch.
Sort of like the feeling when you see someone extremely good at something fumble the thing they are so good at.
But then I remembered that I was her brother and was sort of supposed to root for her, but Sera was a potential mother figure.
Later in my life, when I was older, I should show Maren some begrudging respect in public but root for her in private. That was the classic way it was. The corny and cartoony way things like that played out between siblings.
There was no one who could challenge Maren in combat, and she was only six, including me, even with some magic too, but not if I used everything I had, but Sera handled her like she was nothing.
Especially when it came to speed. She was a blur when she moved, and I was sure there wasn't a single moment where she'd moved in earnest against Maren.
This woman was a real amazon.
I wondered what Jakob and I were going to do with Maren once she grew up. If she were anything like Sera, but with her personality, she would be a wild beast.
I exhaled. At least there was nothing more I had to do today.
Then, that night, after having my well-earned rest and the rest of the house having gone quiet, I slipped out of bed.
It must have been a bit past midnight. This was my time. I was a real night owl, even back in my old life.
There was soft moonlight, which made everything look washed out. It was perfect for sneaking and especially sneaking out.
I figured I could work in some spellcasting outside.
But when I was sneaking around, I heard voices.
So I slowed my already sneaky steps.
The living room was dim except for the glow of the hearth, the fire reduced to orange coals. Father sat on the long couch, legs relaxed, posture looser than normal. Beside him - almost leaning into him - sat Sera.
A half-empty bottle of wine was on the table.
They hadn't gone to bed yet.
Sera noticed some movement by the door and turned, squinting in my direction.
Scared that she might see me, I huddled farther into the shadows. I thought that even drunk she'd be sharp as a cat - but apparently not.
Then she turned away again, swaying her head slightly.
She hadn't seen anything.
Her face was just a shade flushed, and then it got redder as she put her hands on her face as if debating whether to say what she was thinking.
"Caleb called me 'mommy' today," she said.
Father snorted and then let out a quiet laugh - the kind he made when he was embarrassed. "The children… they appreciate you. Especially Maren. And I guess Caleb's warming up to you too."
Sera's head dropped for a second - almost shy. "Do they? Really?"
"I worry that I'll mess it up. Jakob and Maren knew her, even if not when she was her strongest, but Caleb doesn't. I feel lost sometimes."
"What for?"
"I worry that I'll mess it up. Jakob and Maren knew her, even if not when she was her strongest, but Caleb doesn't. I feel lost sometimes."
Sera reached out and placed her hand on his cheek. "Alarick, you're a great man and an even greater father. He'll see that when he's older. Maren and Jakob will too."
She smiled. And then, unexpectedly, her expression shifted - more serious, more raw.
"You know," she said quietly, "I am not as strong as Rosa was. Everyone knows it. I know it too." She paused, swallowed hard, and continued, "But even so… if you'll have me-"
Father stared at her. Not stunned or unhappy. He just didn't say anything.
Sera then leaned closer and kissed him.
It wasn't neat, or graceful, or timed well. It was slow, and messy, but Alarick kissed her back - two people who had been holding back so long they didn't know how to be careful anymore.
Shadowboon was right. This totally was like that.
They weren't doing anything too inappropriate yet, thank god, but it was a kiss that made me blink and think:
So… if I had to describe it, what word would I use? Sexy? Romantically? I settled on "passionately." They are really, really slobbering over each other. Looking on, I was kind of grossed out.
It was just a mental note if I had to describe it later. For now, it was just… research.
Then Sera's hands lifted to Alarick's chest, and she began unbuttoning the first clasp of his shirt, and that was my cue to turn and leave because this wasn't a romantasy book for middle-aged women.
Except-
"Wait."
Alarick reached up, gently holding Sera's wrist.
She froze.
He breathed out slowly and painfully. "Sera… I like you. I do. And I know you like me."
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I do."
"But I… I'm just not ready. I still need time."
Sera looked hard, jaw trembling once in frustration - not at him, but at the universe, probably.
Then she nodded. "I understand. Truly."
She leaned back slightly, giving him space.
"But," she said, attempting a smile with a drunken wobble, "you should hurry. I'm unmarried and childless, and if I wait any longer, I'll turn into a lonely old maiden."
"Any man," Father said, "would be lucky to have you."
Then she gently rested her head on his shoulder. No kissing. No pushing. Just there.
It was weirdly wholesome.
I stepped back quietly from the doorway.
As I tiptoed out. And I wondered:
Was Mom a tomboy or an amazon, too?
I didn't remember her like that - with muscles or a genki attitude.
In my memory, she was kind of a dainty lady.
Huh, must have been like that before I was born.
Father seemed to like strong women. If that was true. Sera looked like she could beat a concrete wall at arm-wrestling - but apparently Rosa, my mother, could've benched her.
Dad had a type, apparently. Or maybe women like that really liked Dad.