Isaac ran up to his resurrected little sister and hugged her until she began complaining. He then asked David to bring Annabelle to the guest house, wrapped in some sheets so that nobody would know what he was carrying, while he met with their parents.

  David and Niala brought the young girl to their temporary lodging, closed the curtains and drapes, and let her loose. She pouted for a few seconds from having been bundled in fabric, but quickly cheered up when Niala began asking the girl questions.

  Annabelle was in the process of rubbing her face along Niala's tail when the door slammed open, a frantic Agatha storming in, followed by Isaac attempting to calm his mother down, the procession ending on Jacob, walking aided by a cane.

  Annabelle froze as she spotted her parents, somehow older-looking than she remembered. For a second, a smile splayed across her face before she blinked and schooled her expression, taking on a posture which mimicked the way Agatha used to hold herself.

  The little girl began a small curtsy. “Mother, Father, it is good to se-humpf,” She began, the wind getting blown out of her lungs as her mother scooped her up into an embrace.

  “You're real! It's real! You're alive! Annabelle! You're alive!” Agatha's voice was a mix of desperate relief and incredulity, as she held her long-lost daughter, running her hands over the small body as if to reassure herself she really existed.

  “Mother!” Annabelle's tiny voice rang out. She began giggling. “Stop! You're tickling me!”

  Agatha froze and pulled back, holding her daughter at arm's length, her eyes peering all over her face, tears welling up once more. “Oh, Annabelle! My daughter!” She pulled the girl into a hug once more, to repeated protests, asking to be let go as this was embarrassing.

  Protests that Agatha promptly ignored.

  The reunion lasted a while, mostly led by Agatha, though Isaac stayed nearby, shifting on his feet, his eyes drifting to his little sister repeatedly. His posture seemed... strained.

  Until Niala, scowling, stomped up to him, went behind his back, and shoved him forward.

  He stumbled up to his sister, who was battling back an unending avalanche of kisses from her mother. Both women froze and looked up to the new presence.

  Isaac went awkwardly rigid and smiled at the young girl. “Sister, Annabelle, I am... very happy to see you again.”

  Behind him, Niala planted a hand on her face.

  The young girl, however, saw an opportunity and turned toward her brother, flinging her arms in the air. “Pick me up, little brother!”

  Isaac blinked, smiling even wider, and did as asked before his mother realized the target of her affection was escaping. Annabelle threw a sly glance over her shoulder, back at her mother, as she was air-lifted to safety.

  Her smirk quickly evaporated as the woman rose to her feet and followed after her target, sandwiching her between their two adult bodies.

  As the trio devolved into a tangle of limbs, giggles, and tears, Niala walked up to the other brother, who had been staring at the process, his body tense, but staying in place.

  She looked up to him, catching his attention. He glanced at her, a forlorn look in his eyes, and shook his head before returning his focus to the happy mess in front of him.

  Niala blinked, ears flopping, until she understood, her heart nearly breaking in half as she did.

  He's still blaming himself for her death.

  She kept staring at him, desperate for the right words to say, but the more she looked, the more she understood she wouldn't be the one to fix this. It was something David had to resolve for himself.

  But the Saint be sent to the pit if she wasn't going to support him the whole time.

  Jacob, forgotten by everyone, stood at the back, letting his eyes drink in the scene before him.

  His mind drifted to what this meant. To have his daughter back, a union through marriage with other families was a possibility once again. He only needed to find a way to explain-

  He grimaced, steeling his features as he clamped down on that line of thought. Something he found himself doing more and more, over the last few days.

  He didn't know what, exactly, was pushing him to do so. Maybe a combination of every recent event, maybe one specific.

  In the end, it didn't matter.

  Even though letting go of his control was the scariest thing he had ever done in his life, he found himself unable to stop doing it. It felt... right.

  But he struggled to find the path forward. Even now, watching over his daughter, his living daughter, he didn't know. Was he supposed to swoop in and hug everyone in turn? Approach and give a few kind words? Call his daughter over and... what?

  He stood there, keeping the Patriarch at bay, trying to figure out how to be Jacob, as a passive observer, something that he found himself doing more and more lately.

  Until movement caught his attention. The catkin, Niala, moving up to David, looking up to him, and him shaking his head before turning his sad eyes back to the vortex of joy.

  Understanding washed over Jacob, without a single conscious thought of his own. His son was angry at himself because he'd always blamed his sister's death on his own actions, and yet here he was, wishing he could be happy, even though he was convinced he wasn't allowed to be.

  He knew that was how David felt, because he had recognized the look in his son's eyes. The same look he'd seen reflected from a mirror over the past few days.

  In that instant, he felt one overwhelming desire. Acting on it, he made his way over to his son's side, turned to face the same way, and lifted a hand, depositing it on David's shoulder.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  The young man flinched, looked at the hand on his shoulder, then at his father, who was looking back at him.

  He saw eyes that understood.

  Despite who those eyes belonged to... he was glad they did.

  He turned his head back to the rest of his family.

  After spending the rest of the day at the guest house, basking in Annabelle's presence, the Wardenfels had retired to their own rooms, electing to leave the young girl with David and Niala, hidden away until they could come up with a way to explain or hide this miracle.

  Annabelle, for her sake, had been quite pleased with all the attention, at least at first, even though she didn't understand why everyone was acting this way when all she'd done was sleep for a long time.

  It was also strange that big and little brother were adults, but they were still big and little brother, so it didn't matter too much.

  Especially since little brother got even more annoyed at being called little brother.

  “I've always been older than you, Annabelle! And now I'm not even little anymore!”

  The girl had put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Little brother, I have to explain this to you again?! Big brother is big brother, because he's big! You're little brother because you're not as big as big brother! I can't call you both big brother! That would get confusing!”

  Niala had agreed; it was sound logic. Isaac was little brother, and David was big brother. It tracked.

  Isaac had turned to his mother, seeking support, only to find the woman nodding along.

  The next few days were both a blessing and a curse, as Annabelle did not want to stay cooped up indoors all day, though she did find wearing the Who Are You?” very entertaining, at least for the time it took to leave for the estate's forests, where sister, brother and girlfriend had picnics, explored the woods, introduced Leviathan, who was immediately turned into a ride, and other activities.

  All the while, David warred with himself, offering empty smiles where he wanted to laugh, and berating himself whenever he felt any sort of annoyance at the young girl's incessant demands, all aimed at him at first, being the familiar face.

  But, soon enough, those demands shifted toward Niala. David did feel a bit of jealousy at being so readily replaced, but, at the same time, it gave him some time and distance to... process everything.

  And, he had to admit, seeing Niala so graciously handle the little tyke was a balm on his soul. Until his mind pictured Annabelle as one of his own children, and Niala as the mother.

  Then he began sweating.

  While Niala entertained Annabelle at the guest house, David left to attend a private meeting with the rest of his family.

  They had chosen how to proceed and wanted to discuss the path forward with him.

  They met in the council chamber once more, David sitting on one side, the rest of his family on the other.

  Jacob explained they wanted to reuse the lie they had spread to explain Annabelle's death, that she had died in a magitech-related accident when a prototype had exploded and released a wave of mana that had flailed her soul out of her body.

  At the time, they had even presented “evidence”, bringing out a clearly overloaded piece of machinery, which they had shown for just long enough to have witnesses, before destroying it under the pretext that it was evidently too dangerous to have lying around, and that all plans had been burned for the same reason.

  Very convenient.

  Now, they were going to claim that, in truth, Annabelle had not died, but rather had been sent into a magically induced coma, one that had somehow stopped her aging.

  They had claimed she was dead to protect her, not knowing if she would ever wake up.

  And now, she had. And if anyone were to ask Annabelle, she would say the same thing she had told them: she felt she had been asleep for a long time, and she'd just woken up one day.

  David had to admit, his family did know how to spin a tale. It also didn't help that most nobles would be too scared to even speak against the Wardenfels, even if half of them didn't believe a single thing coming out of this estate. No matter that they themselves mostly spoke lies in return.

  Such was the way of nobility; merchants of blood and lies.

  With Jacob's health rapidly returning, and Annabelle back among the living, David let his family know he had done everything he had come here for and announced he would be leaving in the morning with Niala, back to their home in Riverwall.

  As he informed them, his family members shared looks, Jacob eventually turning to face his oldest son.

  “David. Have you given thoughts to staying?”

  The silence that ensued was anything but pleasant.

  David looked at his brother, mother, and, finally, his father. He straightened his back and took a deep breath.

  “That won't happen.” He declared.

  Jacob's features hardened. David thought he saw the Patriarch clawing its way back to the surface, but, astoundingly, he never took hold of his father.

  “I understand. We will respect your decision.”

  David's eyes widened in surprise. He waited a beat, bracing for the “but” that was certain to follow.

  His father opened his mouth to speak once more. His voice was calm and measured, with an undertone of melancholy. “Even if I am certain I already know without the need to ask you, could I still hear you tell us your reasons?”

  David endured this second surprise even worse than the first, his mouth parting open as he processed what he'd just heard.

  He shook himself back to the present. “I...” He began, closing his eyes and centring himself. He opened them and looked straight at his father. “I'm not able to think of myself as a Wardenfel anymore. I know I have the name, but the bridge I had to this family was set on fire and allowed to burn to cinders a long time ago.”

  He took another breath. “I fear there will forever be this divide between us now. I remain your son, by blood, and your recent actions have done much to calm my bitterness, but... my home is elsewhere, now.”

  He turned to his brother. “For you, Isaac, I do not feel the same. I have never stopped, for one day, thinking of you as my brother. This is not my home anymore, but you will always be welcome in mine, if you find it in you to forgive me.”

  David turned his sight back toward his parents and suffered his third surprise, seeing tears running down his mother's cheeks.

  She spoke with a barely controlled voice. “David, my dearest son. I... I will respect your wishes, as I can't fault you for feeling the way you do, even if the pain will remain with me to my grave. Just know that I will forever be sorry and wishing that I had been a better mother. I-”

  She stopped herself, on the verge of crying, unable to say more.

  His father, at last, reacted the way he'd expected, but even there, his tone had none of the hardness it usually held.

  “David. You might think this is not your home anymore, that we are not your family anymore, but you are the only one who will think this way. You will always be welcome back. I will make it known that you were never a failure, that it was my rash decision that drove you away. You may not want to bear the name of Wardenfel, but the name will remember you, no matter what.”

  David lowered his head, bringing it back up with a small smile. “Don't do that, please.”

  Jacob frowned. “Don't do what?”

  “Tell everyone I wasn't a failure. I don't want people to start bothering me. Keep that lie up, pits, double down on it. It's a nice blanket for Niala and me.”

  “I... see. Yes, you are right. It remains the best way to insulate you from the family's problems. Very well. The story will stand.”

  David nodded his thanks, gave a sad smile to his mother, dipped his head at his brother, and got up, walking to the door.

  He reached for the handle, and stopped.

  He spoke over his shoulder. “Mother, we will be in touch to organize the wedding.”

  He opened the door, stepped through, and closed it behind him.

  In the silence of the room, the sound of the hardwood door reverberated.