Orsi twisted the brass doorknob and pushed open the front door of his mansion with a quiet creak. His shoulders slumped the moment he stepped inside. After a long day at the Academy, he finally has silence. No screaming students, and no pompous lectures about "proper divine conduct" from tenured old men who hadn’t seen a battlefield in decades. Just his humble abode.

  He pulled the door shut behind him and leaned on it, letting his head fall softly against the wood. The sleeves of his white robe, frayed from years of use, drooped past his fingers as he yanked down his hood. Bck, messy hair tumbled forward, shielding his face like always. Not that it helped at the Academy, people still knew who he was.

  “I-Is that the legendary healer?” they’d whisper. “He looks so small and frail….Seriously? Him?”

  He sighed, until he noticed something that smelled good wafting through the air. He froze, taking in the scent. He stepped into the main hall, and the scent was stronger now, coming from the kitchen. He rounded the corner, and peeked into the kitchen, taking caution just in case it wasn't what he thought it was.

  In the kitchen stood an elf woman, luckily. She was tall, radiant, and entirely out of pce in a kitchen that looked way too humble for her status. She nonchantly continued stirring a bubbling pot on the stove like she owned the pce, which technically, she did. Her ptinum blonde hair fell in a loose, low tie over one shoulder. That ever-present silver tiara on her head caught the glow of the warm lights and scattered it like starlight across the cabinets. Her sleeveless white dress hugged every curve, with generous hips and a chest straining just enough at the fabric to make Orsi’s cheeks flush.

  “Julianna?” Orsi asked, voice cracking halfway through.

  “Darling?” She turned at once, her violet eyes lighting up. “You’re home!” she said warmly, already walking toward him. Before Orsi could react, she wrapped him up, arms folding around his small frame with practiced ease. His face smushed against her chest as she pulled him close, the smell of vender filling his senses.

  “Welcome back, my little healer,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

  Orsi’s arms hovered uselessly at his sides. “I didn’t think you were going to cook today.” he mumbled into her colrbone.

  “Surprise,” she said, smiling down at him. “It’s a treat, just for you. You’ve been overworking again, haven’t you? What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take care of my beloved husband?”

  He cleared his throat and shifted. “You really didn’t have to, I-I could’ve just—”

  “Starved on stale biscuits again?” she interrupted, guiding him toward a chair with a gentle push. “Eat first, then talk.”

  “I can’t eat while wearing this…” Orsi said, showing off his robes.

  Julianna simply giggled and pointed at the stairwell. “Well? Go get changed then~”

  Orsi yawned, stretching his arms above his head as he walked towards the stairs. The thought of clean clothes and a bath sounded like heaven. His fingers were already fumbling at the ties of his outer yer when a cng echoed down the hall. He froze mid-step. He heard another metallic cng a short while afterwards. Was someone in their armory? Julianna didn’t mention guests. He turned around and made his way down the hall to inspect the sounds. The door to the armory stood ajar, and he pushed it open with two fingers.

  Inside stood another elf.

  She was tall and confident, just like Julianna. Her own ptinum blonde hair spilled down her back, straight, untied and shimmering. She wore tight bck pants, slightly dusty from training, and a white sleeveless top that clung to her and left her arms and midriff bare. Her figure was toned, clearly from years of practice swinging around the weapons neatly dispyed on the walls. She was fiddling with a heavy silver gauntlet, twisting it onto her hand with a grunt.

  “Sylvia?” Orsi said with a small smile. “Making a mess again?”

  She looked up instantly, eyes brightening. “Papa! You’re back!”

  She walked over, the gauntlet still half-secured, and pulled him into a quick, careful hug. She was careful because she was taller than him by a head, and had accidentally knocked him off his feet before.

  “Training?” he asked, eyeing the open dispy case beside her. “Or just trying to steal your mother’s old equipment again?”

  Sylvia smirked. “I…I’m just borrowing it…not stealing.”

  “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing.”

  “Just testing the weight on this one,” she said, flexing the gauntleted hand with a satisfying cck. “I wanted to see how it’d feel paired with lighter armor.”

  He nodded slowly, “And?”

  She shrugged. “It feels weird. But I’ll get used to it.”

  Then she perked up, eyes gleaming. “Oh! Before I forget, here.” She turned and walked to a workbench in the corner, rummaged beneath some scrap iron, and came back with something wrapped in soft cloth. She handed it to him with both hands. Orsi unfolded it, and peered inside. Nestled was a piece of elegant silver headwear.

  “I made it,” Sylvia said, crossing her arms and looking off to the side, suddenly awkward. “For you. From the leftover iron we had from Mama’s sword project. I thought it would match your robes.”

  Orsi held it up, turning it gently in the light. “It’s beautiful.” He stepped to the mirror on the wall, pced it carefully on his head, and blinked at his reflection. It was definitely a little feminine, however. It had thin, smooth lines, almost crown-like. It was the kind of thing he’d see on a high priestess in a church, but it glimmered perfectly against his brown hair and matched the purple trim on his robes like it was always meant to be there.

  He smiled. “Thank you,” he said, turning back to her. “It’s perfect.”

  Sylvia raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  “You made it for me,” he said, touching it gently. “That’s all that matters.”

  She gave a small, satisfied smirk. “You better wear it next time you lecture those nobles.”

  “Oh, I will,” he chuckled.

  Orsi left the armory and finally made his way up the stairs, the new headpiece still resting lightly on his head. His robes rustled softly as he passed the familiar halls. His shoulders were still heavy with fatigue, but his heart was much lighter now. As he walked past a slightly open door, a soft orange glow caught his eye. He paused, then gently knocked twice before pushing it open. Inside, the room was peaceful. A small mp powered by a softly glowing orange mana stone bathed the space in warm light. Beneath it sat yet another elf, curled in a reading chair with one leg tucked under her. She had a simir build and face to her sister, but with a different hairstyle. Her ptinum hair was braided neatly over her shoulder, and her long white dress trailed along the floor. The neckline dipped low, revealing a generous hint of cleavage—something that used to make Orsi stammer when she first started dressing like that.

  Evelyn looked up, startled, her violet eyes wide for a second before softening. “Papa,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry,” he chuckled, stepping inside. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just saw the light.”

  She sat up straighter, setting her book down. “You’re home early.”

  “Later than I wanted, but yes” He moved closer, peering at the open book on her p. “What are you working on?”

  “Mana stones,” she said, tapping the edge of the page. “I’m trying to calcute potential output for a hybrid core using orange and sapphire-infused samples. I have the theory, but…”

  She trailed off, nodding toward a stack of messy scribbles on the desk beside her ridden with diagrams, equations, and margin notes in different colored inks. At least four of them crossed out with frustrated swipes. Orsi walked over, picking up one of the sheets. “You’ve been busy,” he murmured, skimming through the notes. “This is some pretty advanced stuff.”

  She shrugged, a little shyly. “Mama says I take after you.”

  He looked at her with a genuine smile on his face. He didn't expect one of his daughters to take after alchemy. At this right, she will easily surpass him in due time. "What’s giving you trouble?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the papers closer.

  “This formu here,” she said, leaning in beside him and pointing to a line of runic math. “If the energy draw exceeds thirty percent, the matrix colpses. I can’t find a stable ratio.”

  Orsi’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm. Did you account for elemental resistance variance between the stones?”

  "Oh?" Evelyn froze for a bit, and her eyes went wide. “Wait...I didn’t even think of that. That might be the main issue!” Evelyn quickly scribbled down something on a scrap peace of paper, and turned to her father. "T-This is it!" she smiled. "Thanks Papa!"

  He looked up and met her eyes. “No problem."

  After all these years, Orsi still can't fathom that fact that the prodigal Evelyn and strong Sylvia really are the daughters of the Elf Queen...and the Legendary Healer himself. It was just too good to be true, but he was gd it is.