I padded down the hall on bare feet, each step slow enough that the floorboards only whispered beneath me instead of crying out. The house should have been asleep.
At first, I told myself it was nothing. Perhaps the wind was brushing against the shutters. Or maybe Ellie turning in her bed after a nightmare.
But the sound persisted.
I stopped where I stood.
It didn't belong to the night. It didn't belong to dreams either. It slipped through the silence in pieces, as if someone had tried to swallow it and failed.
My chest tightened instinctively, even if I didn't know why.
I edged forward towards the light that emanated from the open door to my parents' room.
The gap widened as I pushed gently.
Mum sat at the edge of the bed. Her hands covered her face, fingers digging into her skin as if she could hold everything in place. Her shoulders shook with each breath that refused to steady. Strands of damp hair clung to her cheeks.
Dad knelt in front of her. One hand rested against her knee. The other hovered, rising halfway before stopping again. He looked like he didn't know where to place it. Like he'd already tried and failed.
Neither of them noticed me.
"Mum?" I whispered, not intending the words to come aloud.
Both of them turned to face me, their eyes both stained red.
"Lias," mum exhaled. Her voice scraped at the edges of her tears. "What are you doing awake, sweetheart? You've got school in the morning." She whipped her face as she attempted to maintain a strong front for me.
I lingered in the doorway, fingers curling against the wood.
"I heard something," I said. "I thought Ellie was crying."
The candle crackled faintly as Dad dragged a hand across his face.
I stepped forward instinctively. Each step heavier than the last.
"Lias what ar-"
I wrapped my arms around my mother's side and squeezed. Looking up, I saw her sorrow. Her streaked face, where tears had dried. The quiver of her breath. And the gentleness with which she returned my touch.
"Mum… what's wrong?"
Her lips parted. Her expression broke again. Fresh tears gathered faster than she could hide them.
She pulled me into her arms. And squeezed me against her.
The force of it caught me off guard. I let out a small sound as she pressed me against her. She held me tighter than she ever had before. Her cheek rested against the top of my head. I could feel the dampness there. The heat of her skin. The uneven rhythm of her breathing.
"Oh, Lias…" she said as softly as she could muster. "There's nothing you need to worry about."
The words didn't match the way her arms tightened.
"But Mum, I-"
Her hand slid through my hair before I could finish. She had always done since I was small enough for her to carry. But now she…
She kissed the top of my head.
"I know, darling," she murmured. "I promise. It'll be okay."
I stayed still in her arms, unsure who she was trying to convince.
---
Light spilt through the windows in wide strips that stretched across the floor. It reached the table where we sat, catching on plates and cups until everything looked warmer than it felt.
"Thanks for the breakfast, Mum. Aunt Tabitha."
I forced a smile as I picked up my plate.
"Just leave it over by the sink, Lias." My mother smiled.
Her hair was tied back loosely. Her eyes still carried a faint redness around the edges, though she kept her gaze steady. Her smile came more easily now and seemed less forced over the past few days.
She looked better, and that was what mattered.
The kitchen was cold. I stretched up on my toes, trying to reach the basin. The edge pressed into my stomach as I leaned forward, tilting the plate toward the water.
A hand slipped in before I could manage it.
"I'll handle that, Master Elias."
A maid took the plate with a practised ease, her smile already in place.
I let my hands drop.
"Thanks…" I murmured as I stepped back, dragging my feet, I made my way toward the living room.
The sofa dipped beneath me as I sat. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, staring at nothing in particular while voices drifted in from the dining room.
Mum laughed. Aunt Tabitha answered with one of her own. Uncle Vincent bellowed as Dad said something that earned another round of laughter.
It sounded normal. Like what I had seen hadn't happened at all.
A knock rasped the door. The sound cut clean through the house.
I straightened before I realised I'd moved. My head snapped toward the hallway.
"I'll get it!" I shouted, my curiosity getting the better of me. I pushed off the sofa and ran, bare feet slapping against the floor this time without care for the noise. I pulled the door open.
Jasmine bounced where she stood impatiently, shifting her weight. Sunlight caught in her hair, dark strands shifting with the breeze. Her eyes settled on me at once, calm as ever. Something in my chest eased the moment I saw her.
Beside her stood a boy I didn't recognise. He looked close to Arthur's age. His hair sat neatly, though the ends refused to behave. A pair of round glasses rested on his nose, catching the light just enough to hide his eyes.
Those eyes fixed on me with quiet focus.
I gripped the doorframe. "Jasmine? You're here!" I smiled at the older woman.
My gaze slipped past her shoulder before I could stop it. I searched the road behind her, expecting to see him step into view.
"Where's Art? Did he come with you?"
Jasmine's expression softened. "He has something to take care of before he returns," she smiled in kind. "He asked me to come ahead of him."
"Oh." The word dropped out on its own. I forced a smile. "Right. That makes sense."
Footsteps pattered from behind me.
"Jasmine?" Mum said as she reached the door. She stepped past me and pulled her into an embrace without hesitation. "Thank goodness," she whispered. He released her and held the black-haired woman by her shoulders. "You're safe. Arthur's safe, too, right? He is isn't he?"
"He is." Jasmine nodded.
Mum lifted her hand to brush a strand of hair from Jasmine's face. The gesture lingered a second longer than needed.
"And who's this?" she asked, looking to the boy who stood ever attentive at Jasmine's left.
The boy straightened at once. He dipped his head slightly, his posture stiff but deliberate. "My name is Elijah. I'm… a friend of Arthur's."
"Art made a friend?" The thought slipped out before I could catch it.
Elijah adjusted his glasses with one finger. A small smile creased his lips. "Yes. We met not long ago."
Mum let out a soft laugh. Her hand came to rest on my shoulder.
"Well, come in. Both of you." Mum stepped aside, guiding them inside with a gentle insistence that left no room to refuse.
Voices grew as we entered the living room.
Ellie shot towards us, her stuffed bunny trailing behind her, as she collided with Jasmine's legs. "Jazzy!"
Jasmine bent down and rested a hand on Ellie's head. "You've grown," she smiled.
Ellie beamed. She turned toward me, bouncing on her heels. "See? Art said that, too, last time! He said I'm going to catch up to you soon!"
"Not happening," I moved a hand between both of our heads, marking the difference. "I'm still taller."
She puffed her cheeks out at me.
Dad's voice cut in from behind. "Good to see you again, Jasmine."
"You as well." She smiled towards her former captain.
Mum guided them toward the seats. "Sit. I'll go get you some tea."
Aunt Tabitha slid the tray closer with a knowing smile.
Elijah sat carefully at the edge of the sofa. His hands rested on his knees, fingers aligned neatly. His eyes continued to move, never staying in one place for long.
Ellie climbed onto the arm of my chair, leaning toward him.
"You're Art's friend?"
"Yes. My name is Elijah."
"El-li-jah," she repeated. "We're both El's." She smiled at the confused boy, "I like it."
He inclined his head slightly. "Thank you."
"Hey, I am too!" I protested to the 7-year-old.
She ignored me.
The room filled with conversation after that. Voices overlapped. Laughter returned.
---
I sat outside, my wand resting across my knees.
I drew in a slow breath and let it out just as steady. Heat followed the rhythm. It gathered deep in my core, then spread outward in a controlled pulse. Each inhale fed it. Each exhale refined it.
A faint warmth stirred beneath my skin. It thickened, spreading through my arms, my chest, my core. With every breath, the heat grew cleaner, sharper. It no longer burned wild. It listened.
My body felt lighter the longer I stayed there.
A throat cleared from behind me.
The warmth snapped away from me.
I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder towards the looming figure. Elijah stood a short distance away, hands clasped behind his back. His posture held that same careful stiffness, though his head tilted with quiet curiosity.
"What are you doing?"
"Meditating," I said, straightening. My back clicked as I did.
"I assumed that. Why?"
"To refine my core?" I asked slowly.
He looked at me as if I had three heads.
"You're a mage?" he exclaimed.
"Yes?" I nodded.
"But you're only a kid!"
I leaned back on my hands against the soft green. "So? My brother awakened earlier than I did."
His expression shifted. Surprise thinned into disbelief.
"When I awakened, I could barely lift a stone," he said. "You look like you've been doing this for years."
"I have."
He adjusted his glasses again, slower this time. "So that's why you sit out here instead of playing."
"I still play," I said. "I just don't waste time either."
His gaze dropped to the wand across my knees. I lifted it. Mana flowed cleanly through the channel. Heat gathered at the tip, condensing into a thin line. Golden flame flickered along the edge, hot enough to warp the air around it.
I let the blade collapse as fast as it formed.
"You made a sword out of mana?" he asked, taking a step towards me.
"Can you not?"
He shook his head as he offered me a hand. I took it and rose to my feet.
"Would you like to spar?" I asked, smiling at the older boy.
"Spar?"
"Like a mock fight," I added. "I'd like to fight someone who specialises in Earth mana since Art prefers Fire and water mana, whilst Tess and Grandma can only use Wind, so I'd like to test myself against stone if you don't mind."
"I know what a spar is," he laughed as he turned and walked two paces away from me. "What are the rules?"
I also walked back two paces. "Until someone yields…" I rolled my shoulders. "Oh, and avoid anything lethal, anything shy of that I should be able to heal," I added, looking over my shoulders at Elijah, who had already lowered his body.
'Different mages start a duel with a different stance. Water and Wind mages tend to be light-footed due to their elements, enabling fluid, easy movement. Fire mages like Dad or Big Bro tend to be more solid, though that could be due to them both being augmenters…'
I clicked my elbow as I watched Elijah, who studied me in kind.
'But Earth mages…'
I held my wand before me, golden flame flickered to life, taking the form of a blade as I had become so accustomed to doing.
"Ladies first." I laughed.
Elijah scowled and thumped his foot against the ground.
Earth surged upward, tearing through the grass as it rushed toward me.
I moved before it reached me. My wand flared beside me as I cut through the rising ridge. The edge burned clean through it, melting and scattering soil in every direction.
Elijah raised an arm to shield his face.
I circled. Heat lingered in the air, brushing against my skin with each step.
"Come on," I roared. "Is that the best you've got?"
He answered with motion. Two chunks of earth tore free and shot toward me.
I sliced the first apart. Molten fragments scattered as the flame sheared through it. The second missed as I rolled aside.
A grin spread across his face.
I closed the distance. The heat in my core climbed higher, sharpening until it felt like it might spill over.
He swiped up with two fingers, and a wall of muddied stone rose from the ground. I drove forward. Golden fire flared along my wand and slammed into it.
The wall cracked as it held me in place.
The ground around my feet softened as I began to sink into the soil.
I clicked my tongue as my footing was locked into place.
The wall before me collapsed, and the smiling mage strode through the crumbled remains of his spell.
"Not bad at all, Elias." He smirked. "But I'm an A-class adventurer." He added smugly
I struggled to move my feet under the now solid stone.
'Bastard used a quagmire spell on me.'
"At least I don't need to use cheap tricks," I continued my struggling, my legs not budging.
"Oh, Elias," he laughed. He flicked my forehead with enough force to send me to the floor. The soil cracked as I looked up at him. He leaned down over me. "If it means I win a fight, then I'll use all the tricks I can."
He continued to smile down at me.
"Coward."
His face shifted. His eye twitched. "Coward?" he repeated. "Coward?" he repeated again, this time louder. "How is that cowardly?"
I failed to contain myself at his reaction. "How can you lose your cool over a single word, 'Lijah? You tried to act cool and you just…" I laughed, unable to finish my sentence.