Nessa sighed, like someone who had already lived through multiple lifetimes of this nonsense.
"Of course. I knew it."
She stood up and walked to the cabinet, retrieving some money from a drawer. "Mom went to the temple with Tristan today, so she won't be back for a while."
Aric perked up. 'Perfect.'
"But," she added, grabbing the book he had oh-so-strategically placed on the floor earlier, "we're still getting back before night. Got it?"
"Eyah," Aric agreed like a knight pledging allegiance to his queen. This was their sacred sibling pact.
She opened another drawer,and put the book in, then pulled the curtain aside with a flourish.
"Come now," she gestured, causing Aric to follow. The trip was the same as last time, they waited for a carriage and then went over to Maiws' house. As the guards saw the sibling duo come closer to the gate, they sighed and opened the gates. After all, this has become a norm to them.
Aric giggled under his breath, practically skipping as he toddled up the steps.
Today was the day. After a year of painfully decoding an alien language with no familiar roots, after months of staring at incomprehensible scribbles and trying to guess if a word meant "hello" or "hand grenade," he was finally going to read real books.
"I don't even know where to start!" he thought, clenching his tiny fist with glee.
As he and Nessa approached the grand front door of the Maiw estate, a shriek echoed from inside—
"WHAAATTTT?!"
The sheer pitch of the voice made Aric physically recoil. Nessa flinched beside him.
"NO WAYYY, HUH?!!"
They turned to each other in silent terror. Aric gave Nessa the solemn nod of soldiers entering battle. Nessa returned the nod and knocked hesitantly.
The door creaked open to reveal a butler with the exact expression of someone who'd lived through a war—probably this morning.
"Ah… Miss Nessa. Come in…" he muttered with the heavy tone of a man who'd stopped hoping for peace in this lifetime.
As they stepped inside—
"NESSAAA!!"
Elara came sprinting across the mansion with a crumpled newspaper in hand, sobbing like someone who just saw their brother die.
"LEON!!" she wailed. "Leon only came FOURTH in the Pantheon Clash!"
She said it like the world had ended. Like the sky had fallen. Like someone had stolen her soul and replaced it with mild inconvenience. Not missing the opportunity to bury herself into Nessa's dress.
Aric just blinked. 'Pantheon Clash? Who the hell is Leon?' Aric frowned. 'Yet another thing I don't know…'
Lady Maiw's calm voice rose from near the fireplace. "Nessa, Aric. Glad you're here again."
Nessa pried Elara off her dress like removing a koala from a tree and gave a polite bow. Aric followed with a clumsy one of his own.
"Good morning, Lady Maiw. I hope we're not intruding."
Maiw waved her hand with a laugh. "Oh, please. I wish you two would stop being so formal! You're always welcome here."
Nessa shook her head quickly. "That's not something I can—"
"Grandma, Grandpa where?" Aric interrupted, completely derailing her sentence. Nessa let out a frustrated sigh and gave the back of his head a light swat.
"Aric! Watch your words—and who you're talking to!"
Rubbing the spot with a dramatic pout, Aric groaned. "Me no words!"
Seriously, how did she expect a one-year-old to pull off court etiquette?
"Dumbass," he mumbled in English.
Elara, in a heartbeat, switched from wailing to doting as she rushed over to comfort Aric. "Nessa, don't hit him so hard! He's just a baby!"
Nessa didn't even blink. "And that's exactly why I didn't hit that hard."
Aric rubbed his head, but a grin tugged at his lips. In his early visits to the Maiws' house, he had fought tooth and nail to escape Elara's clutches—ducking behind furniture, diving under tables, even feigning sleep. But now? He'd come to recognize her obsession with children as the jackpot it was. Free attention, snacks on demand, excessive praise, occasional toys? Yes, please.
Then again...
Everything came at a price.
And in Elara's case, the price was currently manifesting as a hug—a very intense, very suffocating, borderline-lung-collapsing hug.
A dangerous chokehold disguised as affection.
"Elvis is in the library, as usual," Maiw said, then casually turned to Nessa. "And Elian's out at the farmland. He's going to inherit it someday, after all."
Nessa went red in an instant. She hadn't even asked.
Yet…
Before she could stammer out a reply, Maiw turned to the butler. "Ronald, please take Nessa to the farm. I'll bring little Ari to the library myself."
The old cat snoozing by the fireplace stretched and let out a lazy purr as if approving the plan.
"As you wish, my lady," Ronald said with a respectful nod, motioning for Nessa and Elara to follow.
Elara frowned, following the butler, "Wait, don't forget mee!"
The lady stood up, extending a hand as she smiled warmly. "Now then, Aric. Shall we?"
Aric looked up at her, then reached out to grasp her pinkie with his tiny hand. Together, they began to ascend the stairs
***
"I can't believe it." Elvis murmured, massaging his temples as he stared at the parchment in front of him. Inked across the page was the entire Hsil alphabet.
All seventy-three letters.
Aric had managed to learn them in less than a year. Sure, his vocabulary was still patchy and his speech came out in adorable, occasionally garbled bursts… but still. For a one-year-old?
It was nothing short of absurd.
"Elvis," came a gentle voice behind him.
He looked up to see his wife, Lara, smiling softly at him from the doorway, the morning light haloing her grey hair.
"Yes, dear?"
She said nothing, simply nodding her chin down.
Elvis followed her gaze.
And there he was.
A tiny figure stood near the edge of the room, fists balled at his sides, eyes gleaming with fierce curiosity. Aric looked up at him with an almost comically serious expression and declared, "Grandpa. Book!"
Elvis chuckled, rising from his chair and crossing the room. He ruffled the boy's messy hair affectionately. "I was just thinking about you, you little rascal. What book are you looking for this time?"
Aric grinned wide, teeth flashing—then paused, the grin slowly fading as his brow furrowed. Elvis recognized that look immediately. That was the look of a mind moving faster than its tongue. Aric squinted at the floor, then the ceiling, searching his internal dictionary.
Finally, he looked up and said, "Magic."
________
[A/N: come on ppl. So close to 60 collections.]