David hovered before his mana, within his inner world, waiting for an answer.

  “I do not know,” Leviathan answered.

  “You don't know how you got to the physical world?” David confirmed.

  “I do not, my Lord. Do you... not know either?”

  “I... just filled this place with mana, something broke, and then you were out there, crushing me,” David said, squinting at Leviathan's enormous size. “You were a lot smaller out there than in here.”

  The sea serpent turned its massive head to look at his own body. “When I was... forming, I could feel my body pushing up against a barrier. I believe I was being constrained, and did not reach my full size.”

  “Hmm... being able to keep you to a smaller size out there could be useful. I'd rather not call up a mountain-sized beast each time. Crush the neighbourhood, be spotted across the lands, create a panic...”

  Leviathan brought his head down to David's level. “Would you call upon me within a box, my Lord?”

  “...I wonder how small of a box it could be. How would you feel at being worm-sized?” David asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Leviathan blinked, the movement of his eyelid enough to push a light breeze over David. “I would be a glorious worm. While my size was less in that cell, I did not feel inferior to my present form.”

  It was David's time to blink. “Now I want to see worm-you fight a grumble bear.”

  The serpent dipped his head. “It would be an honour to fight your foes, my Lord.”

  David waved his hand and opened his mouth to admonish the beast about his subservience for the hundredth time, when his world softly rocked.

  Both of them looked up.

  “I believe you are being summoned back, my Lord.”

  David sighed. “I know. I just don't want to go.”

  “You still fear meeting your creator?”

  The young man gave the beast a look. “Don't call him that. He's my father, not my creator.”

  Leviathan held his gaze on his Lord before dipping his head. “I understand. He still played a part in your creation.”

  “And only if he'd remembered that when I was growing up...” David said, getting up from his floating lotus position.

  “I'll see you later, bud. Think on how it felt when you formed in the physical world. We have to figure out how to repeat it.”

  The serpent nodded as David closed his eyes within his inner world and re-opened them in the physical one, finding Niala staring back at him. They smiled at each other.

  He jerked his head forward and surprised her with a kiss. Her eyes widened, her eyelids soon fluttering and closing as he kept his mouth against hers. She pursued his lips as he pulled back.

  A soft gasp to his side made him remember where he was: the parlour, where they had been made to wait to see Jacob in his private study.

  David snapped his head at his mother, off to the side, who had come to fetch him, currently hiding her smile with one hand. He did nothing but stare up at her while Niala was trying to hide her blush under her bangs.

  A few chuckles escaped Agatha's mouth. “I cannot wait to see my grandchildren.”

  David choked while Niala's face turned into a tomato.

  “Mother, that jest is in poor taste.”

  His mother shook her head. “I am not making fun of you, my dear. You and Niala are clearly deep in love.” The woman quirked an eyebrow, her expression turning mischievous. “Would I be wrong in thinking you've already broached the topic with each other?”

  “I... we...” David stammered.

  “...we have.” Niala squeaked.

  Agatha's smile reached up to her eyes. “See? Mother knows best! And don't you be ashamed, both of you. Being young and in love is the most magical thing in the world.” She approached them, her eyes focusing on each of them in turn, her smile turning hard. “And I had better be informed the instant my grandchildren are born. Do you understand?”

  It wasn't really a question.

  David and Niala nodded like scolded kids.

  Warmth returned to the Wardenfel Matriarch's smile. “Good! I'm glad we have an understanding.”

  The curve of her lips flattened, as did her tone. “Now, David, your father is ready to see you. He asked to be alone with you.”

  David's eyes hardened. He turned to Niala, who nodded and pulled away from him.

  He got to his feet, took in a deep breath, and made his way to the heavy wooden door that had closed on him so many years ago. The one through which his father had retreated back then, unable to look his son in the eyes.

  Up until now, David had believed it was because Jacob could not bear to lay his sight upon the failure before him.

  But now... he wasn't certain anymore. His mother had told him a very different tale.

  That his father had fled to his study because of shame, there was no doubt. The question was whose shame had pushed him away: the son's, or the father's?

  He walked up to the door and stood there, one arm's push away from opening. On the other side, the answer to his question.

  He breathed in, and walked forward, toward the answer.

  One step at a time.

  The hinges' subdued whine jolted Jacob away from his thoughts. He straightened in his high-backed armchair, locking his eyes on the young man entering his study.

  His eldest son, who had been fourteen years old the last time he had seen him.

  He stared at the man before him, his mind fighting what his eyes were seeing. Hidden in the tall, strong adult's features before him were the ghosts of the young boy he had cast out. The one he had illogically expected to see walk in through the door.

  His mind reconnected the strands of memory to what his eyes were showing him, and he became aware that the young man was standing a few paces away. The man was silent, looking at him with wary eyes, ready to spot the first signs of duplicity.

  Jacob felt... indignation. How dare he walk in here, before him, expecting lies! He was being offered an olive branch! By him, the Wardenfel Patriarch! The least this man could do was try to accept it!

  They stared at each other.

  Eventually, the young man sniffed and turned around to leave the way he came.

  That insolent...!

  “Where are you going!?” Jacob thundered.

  The young man stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Back to where I belong.”

  “And where would that be?”

  “...Not here, evidently.” The man replied, before resuming his steps.

  Jacob gritted his teeth. “Stop!”

  The man halted once more.

  Jacob growled. “I summoned you here to talk.”

  The man kept his back turned to him. “And I came here, and waited, and you didn't say a single thing.”

  “The summoned initiates! Not the Lord! Have you forgotten even the most basic of rules!?”

  The man snorted, turning around and bowing. “My apologies, my Lord, I had not realized you had summoned your subject. What is it this lowly reject can do for your Lordship?”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Young man! That is not how one talks or acts in front of the Wardenfel Patriarch!”

  “I don't care.” The man said.

  Jacob recoiled at the words. “How... you do not care to show respect?! Why!?”

  “You never gave me a reason to care.”

  “What of honour, duty, and traditions? I know you learned of those!”

  The man humphed. “I learned those from my tutors. I said you never gave me a reason to care.”

  Jacob grabbed onto his armrests, working his hands over them, working his jaw, biting down on the fiery words that wanted to jump out of his mouth and at the insolent young... man.

  He met the man's eyes. They were full of rage, defiance and... pain. Sadness. Disappointment.

  They gave Jacob pause. He replayed their short exchange in his mind. He was acting the same way he had, when his son had confronted him.

  Why?

  He had discussed this with his wife. He had played out this meeting a dozen times in his head, ever since Isaac had told him that David was back. He would welcome his son back, let him know he regretted his actions, and ask for forgiveness. He wasn't certain how his son would react, but he had hoped he'd find it in his heart to at least extend a hand in reconciliation.

  The other possibility, that his son would reject his earnest feelings, had terrified him.

  But, a Wardenfel man did not balk in the face of fear. They strode forward and faced their trials with a straight back. Just now, before summoning this man, he...

  He had forgotten.

  No, not forgotten.

  He had run away. Put on the mantle of rule, and met this trial as he did any other ones; from the height of his role as the Wardenfel Patriarch.

  He had summoned a man. He was supposed to meet his son. How was he supposed to do that?

  His stomach falling, he realized that he had never done it. The Patriarch had met his heir. Trained him, looked over him, groomed him to take over his position.

  But he had never laid a father's eyes on him.

  The gaze he brought back up to the... to David, was adrift, searching, pleading.

  For what might have been the first time in his life, David finally met his father.

  And he found an aging man with uncertainty in his eyes, silence on his tongue, and fear in his heart.

  David met his father's tumbling gaze.

  And he sharpened his senses.

  Was the old man playing a game? Trying to appear weak to endear him? Had he instructed his mother to act the way she had?

  Is there a snare, waiting patiently for the rabbit to take one more step?

  He balled his hands and waited. Like the rabbit, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

  Jacob looked in dismay as his son appeared ready to send him to the pits, turn around and leave for the last time.

  This was all wrong. He wanted to apologize! Could he not see that?! Why was he making this so difficult?! He...

  He put a hand over his battering heart. He felt cold sweat run down his brow. His hands were clammy.

  What was this? What was this feeling? Why did he so desperately wish to put back on the mantle of rule?

  That way only led to... safety.

  Oh.

  He was afraid. Afraid to lose his son again, maybe for the last time.

  He refocused on David, found the same suspicious eyes, and felt himself fall once more, unwilling to don the wings which usually kept him aloft, as they would lead to something worse.

  Niala stopped listening to Agatha as she talked about baby David, unable to ignore the emotions flooding through their link anymore. She reflexively looked toward the study's door.

  The older woman let her words taper off as she noticed. “Are you afraid of what will come out of it?”

  Niala turned her head back toward the woman. “I don't think it's going very well. I know David was... conflicted about the whole thing. He didn't feel ready to go and meet his father. I told him it could wait, but he said he should batter down that door now that it was in front of him. Said it would annoy him until he did.”

  Agatha sighed before chuckling. “Jacob was the same way when we broached the topic over the last two days. I told him we could invite David back at any time. He instead insisted he should pluck that annoying feather out while it was in front of him.” She said, mimicking Jacob's voice.

  Niala gave a sad smile, her ears flopping down. “That's what I'm afraid of. David tends to approach all problems head-on, like a hammer looking for nails. He... puts on a mask. But! He's gotten better! Like when you came to see us! I was so proud of him when he listened to what his feelings were telling him!”

  Agatha stared at the little catkin, her head tilted, and her eyes twinkling.

  Niala folded inward, fidgeting with her hands. “I'm sorry. Did I say something weird?”

  Wordlessly, with a smile on her lips, the noblewoman got up, walked over and sat down on the couch beside Niala. She covered the catkin's hands with her own and looked her in the eyes.

  “Nothing at all, dear. I'm just happy that my son had the fortune of meeting a woman like you. I also wouldn't be too concerned about those two in there.” She said, pointing toward the study with her head. “They haven't screamed at each other yet, and they're both too obstinate to give up. I think they'll find a way to meet in the middle.”

  Niala looked at the noble woman's hands, then up at her, and smiled, ears wiggling. “Thanks, Agatha.”

  The noble woman strangled a laugh. “It's just pointless to hope and have you use the proper address, isn't it?”

  Niala hiccuped, her ears falling. “I'm sorry! I just! I keep forgetting! I'm sorry!”

  Agatha sighed and pulled the reddening girl into an embrace. “Think nothing of it, dear. Not in private, with just us.” She pulled back and held Niala at arm's length. “In fact, please forget what I said about proper addresses. I find it quite freeing to have someone I can talk openly with.”

  Niala's ears twitched. “Oh! Like, huh... like a friend?” She asked, hopeful.

  The noble woman blinked before smiling warmly.

  “Like a friend. I don't think I have an actual friend, you know? As Matriarch, everyone I interact with is always acting in some sort of capacity.”

  Niala frowned. “Oh, that's not good. Everyone needs a friend! Especially nobles! They're always trying to backstab each other so much that they forget what a friend even is! Watching a gaggle of them interact always reminded me of a pit of snakes trying to bite each other without being bitten in return!”

  Agatha froze, a full-bellied laughter taking over her body a moment later.

  Niala felt rather proud of herself as she watched the woman forget about proper decorum.

  A muffled burst of laughter passed through the study's door, grabbing both men's attention.

  They slowly turned their head back toward each other, trying to return to their staring match.

  But the spell had broken, and, more importantly, David couldn't help but feel amused at the sudden rush of pride and smugness coming from Niala. He'd have to thank his little gremlin for making his mother laugh like that.

  He looked at his father, saw his puzzled look, and sighed. “Niala must have said something funny.”

  “She... she made Agatha laugh like that?”

  David smirked. “She has a way, yes.”

  Another string of laughter reached their ears. Jacob turned his eyes toward the door. “The last time I heard that laughter was when we got married...”

  “That's... kind of sad. Twenty-five years without a full laugh? For her, I mean. Have you ever laughed in your life?”

  Jacob snapped his head back toward the insolent...

  Toward his son, whose mouth was tugging upward ever so slightly.

  The father scoffed. “I laughed many times during those years.”

  “Hmm, I'm sure most of it was while gloating over the enemies you'd just trampled.”

  “I'll have you know I've always acted with due respect in those instances! You beat an enemy to submission, you do not attack their dignity!”

  David pursed his lips. “No, I guess not. Kill them, if you must, but let them stand and look them in the eyes when you do, I think is what you used to tell me.”

  Jacob nodded. “That's correct. It is the way of the family. Honour has no time or day. It must always be observed.”

  David scratched his head. “That's at least one thing we can agree on, even if you were shit at teaching it.”

  Jacob recoiled, incredulous. “What do you mean I was shit?! I perfectly taught you all I knew! Everything was planned, measured, and scheduled!”

  “All very important when raising a good little accountant, I'm sure.”

  Jacob squinted. “Accountant? Please, your numbers tutor came whining to me every week about how dull-headed you were.”

  David blinked. “And you didn't have him executed? Or at least fired?”

  Jacob tilted his head. “Why would I? I agreed with him. Numbers were never your future, unlike Isaac.”

  “You too?!”

  “Me too, what?”

  “You're going to say I have a muscle brain or something, aren't you?”

  “What?! I would never! You were a very bright kid! Simply... it was a very solid kind of bright.” His father explained.

  David stared.

  Jacob stared.

  “Seriously?” David asked in defeat.

  A roar of his mother's laughter erupted through the door.