“Mom.”

  Melmarc’s mom gave him a smile. “Yes, Mel?”

  Removing his eyes from his mother, Melmarc looked down at where their hands met, hers holding his, then back at the notification in front of him.

  [Dormant Oath detected]

  [Detected Oath: War]

  [Would you like to reactivate dormant Oath of War?]

  [Y/N]

  Melmarc was too surprised. His surprise left him unsure of how to say whatever it was that he wanted to say. The truth was that he wasn’t even sure of what he wanted to say.

  “Do you want to be the Oath of War again?”

  The sudden death silence that filled the entire house was only abused by the slow smirk on Uncle Dorthna’s face. The room was so quiet that Uncle Dorthna’s smirk was somehow very loud.

  Melmarc could suddenly feel the pulse in his mother’s palm. The slow and steady flow of blood. The strength of her grip. The life in her hand. He knew that she had stopped breathing.

  “What did you say, Mel?” she asked in very slow words.

  Melmarc looked back up at her, met her eyes, searched them. “Do you want to be the Oath of War again, mom?”

  His mother released his hand quickly, snatching hers back to her as if she had just been burnt. She was wide-eyed, her breath came to her in an uneven pattern. Melmarc’s mom did not take her eyes off him.

  On her face, Melmarc read distress.

  But no fear.

  Then again, she was a Delver. She had seen too many things, so Melmarc doubted things like what he’d just told her would really scare her. Delvers were only terrified when they stood on the brink of death.

  Well… there was Jude.

  In the portal, Jude had shown himself to be a Delver who wobbled on the edge of paranoia for a while, even shooting him out of fear that he was a skin walker, a dungeon monster that could kill everyone present.

  From where he was Ark spoke, breaking the silence.

  “Mom?”

  Their mother’s head turned ever so slightly, her ears leaning in the direction of Ark’s voice. But her eyes didn’t leave Melmarc, and the sudden turn of calculation that now stained them went nowhere.

  She was thinking now, calculating, planning. But for what, Melmarc could not even begin to fathom. It seemed like there was something he was missing about being an Oath. Something Veebee hadn’t told him.

  “Yes, Ark,” their mom said.

  Ark got up from his chair and adjusted his clothes as if he was about to deliver the greatest presentation a company’s board of directors have ever heard.

  Then he folded his arms. “You’ll have to look at me, mom.”

  The moment the words left his mouth, Melmarc knew exactly what his brother was doing. He was drawing their mother’s attention from him, trying to reduce the intensity of whatever was happening.

  Sometimes Ark played the fool. Sometimes Ark played the intimidator. Sometimes Ark played whatever role he had to play to support Melmarc.

  What are you doing, Ark?

  Their mother finally turned her head. When her eyes settled on Ark, it wasn’t necessarily on him but vaguely in his general direction.

  She was still calculating, still planning.

  “Yes, hun.”

  “Before it happened,” Ark said very slowly, “was it fun being an Oath?”

  Their mother’s eyes slowly grew unfocused, and she stared at a world that wasn’t here. She was thoughtful, lost in a world of remembrance. A small smile touched her face, and it was all the answer Melmarc needed.

  She misses it.

  No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did their mother’s smile become a frown, then a scowl. Annoyance touched her face like an old lover.

  “Before,” Ark said quickly, emphasizing on the word. “Before it happened.”

  His words seemed to snap her out of whatever she was thinking about and her expression relaxed.

  Everyone present in the room knew what Ark meant by ‘before it happened’. Before a stranger had walked into their home and almost killed her.

  “So what’s the answer?” Uncle Dorthna asked. He seemed oddly interested in this conversation, so much so that he was actually sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward as if something was about to happen.

  Their mother’s head finally moved in a slow nod. “It was fun.”

  “Fun?” Their father looked up at her with a blank expression.

  She smiled at him, reaching down to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

  Melmarc was more interested in the fact that the word ‘dissonant’ did not ring in his mind. She was telling the truth. She really had had fun as an Oath.

  “It was stressful, and terrifying,” their mother said, still looking at their father with a smile. “Then dealing with the other Oaths was not something pleasant. Then the constantly demanding instinct.” She shuddered slightly, yet she chuckled like a girl reminiscing of fun times with annoying friends. “But it was fun. The portals. The quests. The—what were they again?—those creatures in the portals. It was fun.”

  Ark clapped once. The sound of it drew everyone’s attention to him. “So that settles it. Mom’s going to become the Oath of War again.”

  Melmarc smiled because he couldn’t help it. Veebee had said that he would need the Oaths, and Uncle Dorthna had all but confirmed it.

  There was no better way to start than having two of those Oaths be his parents.

  Melmarc looked at their uncle. “So how do I make it happen?”

  Dorthna shrugged. “Figure it out?”

  Melmarc opened his mouth to say something, only to realize that he didn’t really have anything to say.

  Figure it out.

  In truth, he couldn’t well expect everything to be handed to him, so there was that. If he wanted to figure it out, he had to start somewhere. And somewhere was agreeing to reactivate his mother’s Oath.

  Even though the notification was still in front of him, he held his hand out to his mother. It was a simple gesture that said everything that needed to be said. If he was going to face whatever came with being an [August Intruder], he wasn’t so enamored by his sense of self importance to think he would not need his parents when they were the strongest people he knew.

  His mother looked down at his hand. Her expression remained calculating, but there was neither worry nor fear.

  After a while of staring at his hand, she shook her head. “Not today.”

  Uncle Dorthna cocked a brow. “Why not?”

  “Yea.” Ark thumbed at their uncle. “What he said.”

  “Use your own sentences,” their mother told him.

  Ark shrugged unbothered but still obeyed. “Why not?”

  “Because the Oaths have a meeting very soon,” she answered. “And the last thing we want is to be explaining to a room full of Oaths how I became an Oath again.”

  “And that matters because?” Dorthna asked.

  “It matters because if I suddenly become an Oath just after my husband met the [August Intruder], it will help all of them narrow down who exactly the [August Intruder] is.”

  “So I’m a secret,” Melmarc mused. He didn’t mind being a secret.

  His mother turned and placed a gentle arm on his shoulder. “Not that kind of secret, Mel.”

  “Oh, no.” Melmarc shook his head in a reassuring way. “I’m not complaining, mom.”

  “And why should you?” Ark chuckled. “This is about the most fun you’ve had in years, apart from being bullied.”

  “It was just the one time,” Melmarc groaned. “The other times were Eroms and Delano.” He paused. “I’m guessing I can’t tell them what I am, either, right?”

  The answer to his question came from their father. “You can.”

  As always, it came with a finality, as if his father was disillusioning him from a misconception. But everyone present knew his father well enough.

  “I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell them what I am,” Melmarc corrected.

  His father’s reply was as final as the previous one. “You should not.”

  Melmarc took a moment to ask himself how he felt about that and realized that he couldn’t say that he felt bad.

  Delano will just have to be satisfied with the new skills and the Delver that tried to kill me.

  “Alright then,” their mother said, regaining everyone’s attention. “When I come back from the meeting with your father—”

  “I don’t want to go,” their dad interrupted.

  “—We will deal with the Oath thing,” she continued without missing a beat. “Then we will see what we can do about Naymond. Mel, you need a new phone. Ark will go with you to get it.”

  “We’re getting you a burner phone,” Ark said quickly. “I know a guy who can help with that. He’s got the best stash of burner phones this side of the country.”

  “No burner phones,” their mom interjected immediately. “And how do you know even a guy that deals in burner phones?”

  Ark looked away sheepishly, not answering the question.

  Their mother let out a sigh, letting that line of inquiry die. “You’ll get your contacts back and retrieve your line. I don’t like the idea of not being able to reach you when I want to.”

  “Also, any longer and he’ll go back to being a hermit even when he gets his phone back,” Ark added.

  Melmarc couldn’t blame him for that one. Unlike Ark, Melmarc had not quickly taken to the mobile device when he’d first gotten one at thirteen. He left it lying anywhere and it could ring for days before he would find it. His mother had had a big problem with that, before Ark had taken to making sure Melmarc had it on him at all times.

  It had been a few months before Melmarc and his phone had become the best of friends. His attachment to playing songs on long rides had definitely helped.

  “Why can’t we just get back my original phone?” Melmarc asked.

  It would give him a reason to return to the police station, see Detective Alfa, and maybe get to know how Naymond has been doing since they left him behind.

  His mother shook her head, refusing easily. “There’s no need for that. We’ll just get you a new one.”

  “I don’t want to go to the meeting.” Their father’s voice was simple, casual.

  “You have to.” Their mother didn’t even bother looking at him. “If you don’t go, then I can’t go, and we need to know what everyone else has to say about the [August Intruder].”

  “You can go.”

  “Not an Oath, remember?” This time, she looked at him. “And didn’t you promise Ruth that you would deal with her.”

  “I’ll go to her home and bring it down.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “No,” their mother disagreed. “Too many innocents will be involved.”

  “They will survive.”

  “Still no.”

  “Then I’ll find her after a Chaos Run and break her leg.”

  Their mother raised a curious brow. “Just her leg?”

  “Maybe her arm, too.” Their father shrugged. “She used her shield and it hurt my hand.” He paused, contemplating. “Or I’ll trap her in a confined space that she cannot escape.”

  Their father’s thought process was very familiar. Melmarc didn’t even have to think about it to know why it was familiar. It had been the exact same way his mind had been working during his fight against Jude in the portal.

  And this is how it works all the time?

  Melmarc couldn’t imagine living like that at all times. The funny part was that his father seemed completely at peace with it, going through the motions as if he was going through files in a file cabinet.

  Meanwhile their mother pointed at their father. “No confining the Oath of Shield. Even if she’s done a lot of wrong, the world still needs her.”

  Dorthna made a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist. “Shields are always so easily replaceable if you ask me.”

  Their father pointed at Dorthna as if that explained everything.

  “Dorthna please don’t motivate him,” their mother said with a groan. “And no one is confining the Oath of Shield, even if she is replaceable.” She turned back to their father. “Can’t a punishment be enough to sate your—”

  “Let me pose a question to you, Mel.” Dorthna adjusted on his chair, turning to Melmarc. “Ark is caught in a portal. He does not have a class, and he is a timid child that does not like fighting. He’s been stuck there for a few days, and your class prefect and his or her good friend have done nothing to help him escape.”

  Melmarc nodded slowly. He knew what Uncle Dorthna was talking about but not why he was dragging him into this.

  “When you find out,” Dorthna continued, “your class prefect’s good friend tells you not to go and save your brother since they have it under control, even though they have shown no sign of having it under control. When you refuse to leave it alone and insist on going to help, this so-called friend traps you and Delano and Eroms in a room that you cannot escape, so you are forced to punch a hole through the wall to get out. On your way out, you run into this friend but are too busy to do anything about it. What do you do?”

  “Save Ark.” Then trap my class prefect and her friend in a portal.

  “After that, Mel,” Uncle Dorthna said. “What do you do after that?”

  “I’ll come back for my class prefect’s friend,” Melmarc answered. That part was easy.

  “And what will be a sufficient punishment for them?”

  Lose their position. The answer came easily, but its uselessness came just as easily. The class prefect’s friend did not have an actual position.

  But they need to be punished.

  Break a leg?

  The thought had come from Melmarc but not necessarily. It had come from deep within his mind, a place where stray thoughts bubbled from. Melmarc hadn’t heard from that part of his mind since he’d come out of the portal.

  The problem, however, was that the thought seemed unsure where it had been insistent within the portal. It was as if the thought wasn’t completely sure if it was a fitting punishment, as if it might be too much of a punishment.

  Punching through the wall hurt my hand, Melmarc thought. So maybe he should punch through a wall, too?

  “I will have him punch through a wall,” Melmarc answered finally.

  Dorthna shook his head. “That will kill your class prefect’s friend. He’s not as strong as you. Even in punishment, sometimes you have to think of equity not equality.”

  Melmarc frowned. Punishments did not work that way. You committed the crime, you served the time.

  Uncle Dorthna watched him for a while before speaking again. “They are not being punished for a crime, Mel.”

  “But they are,” Melmarc disagreed.

  Surprisingly, even though his mother had a look of discomfort, nobody stopped Dorthna. They all just waited patiently.

  Uncle Dorthna tapped a finger against his temple. “That’s just your misconception. A crime is an illegal action. An action designated by a governing body to be against their rules and regulations. In this case, your class prefect is the governing body and you are the criminal. Ergo, their friend has not committed a crime. In fact, if anyone has committed a crime, it’s you.”

  Melmarc frowned. He was the governing body, not the class prefect. The class prefect had only been allowed control in the normal realm of things. It was also his brother that he was going to save, there was no way he was the criminal here.

  “You are the criminal,” Dorthna reiterated as if reading his mind. “So the friend isn’t being punished for a crime because they have committed no crime.”

  Melmarc’s brows drew together in annoyance and Ark gave him an odd look.

  “But they committed the crime,” Melmarc insisted, he wasn’t sure if his voice had risen slightly or not, just that his annoyance had. “They committed a crime and need to pay.”

  “A crime against who?” Dorthna asked, tone completely casual.

  Melmarc’s eyes darted in their sockets as he thought of the answer. This was a hypothetical situation his uncle had posed to him, which meant that he had to operate under hypothetical rules. Uncle Dorthna had given him all the information that he needed to make his judgement from.

  The class prefect’s friend had to be punished, but not for a crime committed.

  But it is still a crime.

  If it was, then it was a crime against who?

  The answer came to Melmarc soon after and he couldn’t believe his own voice when he gave it.

  “A crime against me.”

  Uncle Dorthna nodded, a small smile stretching his lips. “And what is a crime against you?”

  A soft and gentle calmness suddenly settled over Melmarc. His mind grew silent. The confusion of what had to be done to the friend slowly faded away. He had been thinking about it all the wrong ways.

  That had been his problem. Even with Jude, in the end, he had come to negotiate with the help of Naymond. He had been wrong to do that. He could see it now.

  There were no negotiations with such things.

  “What is a crime against you, Mel?” Dorthna asked once more.

  Melmarc met his eyes. “A crime against me…”

  Dorthna nodded slowly, his smile widening.

  “… is a sin.”

  “No!”

  Their mother’s word cut through the silence like a blunt knife forcefully striking glass. It shattered the calm in the room and completely ruined the one in Melmarc’s mind.

  She rounded on Dorthna. “You will not corrupt my son.”

  Dorthna met her angered gaze, unflinching. “I am corrupting no one. He is an [August Intruder] and I am correcting the way he thinks.”

  “By making him think that he is some kind of a dictator?”

  “Not a dictator,” Melmarc muttered to himself, coming to a slow realization. “A ruler.”

  He recognized the way Uncle Dorthna had made him think. And even though he had thrown out the word ‘sin’ it was only because it had been fitting. Regardless, he wasn’t thinking like a dictator. Dictators punished you even if you had done no wrong. A ruler punished you when you wronged them and left you in the hands of any existing rules when you committed a general wrong.

  I hope.

  “Well, I don’t want my son thinking like an Oath,” their mother insisted.

  Dorthna looked at their father. “She meant no offense.”

  “She was not offending,” their father replied easily.

  Their mother scowled. “You know what I meant.”

  Dorthna let out a tired sigh. “Do you know the problem with your Oaths, wife of Madness? It is the fact that they try to guide the impulses of their Oath-hood with the understanding of communal mentality. And that is why they have consistent problems.”

  “Communal mentality?” their mother folded her arms.

  “Human concept,” their father said.

  Dorthna snapped his finger at him. “Exactly. They make the mistake of assuming they are at the top of the food chain. At least that was the mistake until Melmarc became what he is now.”

  Melmarc wasn’t sure how he really felt about all the power positions he was being placed in. Just a second ago Dorthna told him that the crimes he wanted to punish so vehemently were not actually crimes but perceived sins against himself.

  If that’s not arrogance, I don’t know what is.

  “So they are not at the top of the food chain,” Melmarc muttered, his mind doing the math, trying to understand where Uncle Dorthna was heading based on his new found understanding of his uncle.

  “No,” Dorthna answered. “You are not.”

  With a frown, his mother asked. “Then what is he if he’s not at the top of the food chain?”

  Ark brightened up suddenly and Melmarc knew that his brother had found the answer first. Melmarc found it second. However, it was their father that gave the answer a voice.

  “He is the top of the food chain.”

  Dorthna nodded like a grandfather proud to see his sons and grandsons finally develop some universal male understanding on their own. “And now that he is here, the Oaths only stand at the top of the food chain because he allows them.”

  Their mother shook her head. “I don’t like this line of thinking. I don’t like this one bit. It corrupts. And Mel is still too young to be thinking that way.”

  Ark raised his hand like a student in class. “What about me? I’ve got the title king in my actual class.”

  Their mother waved him aside dismissively. “You already think you’re better than everyone except Mel and Nin, I think it’s already too late to dissuade you from that line of thought.”

  “Oh.” Ark’s brows furrowed in thought suddenly. “Hold up. I think I’m better than Nin, too.”

  Dorthna shook his head. “I’m going to have to disagree with that one.”

  “I second that.” Melmarc nodded.

  Their father shook and nodded his head seemingly at the same time. “Yes. Not better than my daughter.”

  “Alright then.” Dorthna gestured in the direction of the kitchen. “Now that we’ve all gotten that out of the way, shall we proceed to training? The sooner we get all this sorted out, the sooner I can get my part of this conversation handled.”

  Everyone got up from their chairs and started filing out of the living room. Their father led the way with their mother following easily behind him, slapping at his back like a schoolgirl disturbing her brother.

  Sometimes it was odd to see her so childish around their father when they knew just how strict she could be. As for their father, he never had a negative reaction to things like this.

  “Why do people think I’m not better than Ninra?” Melmarc heard Ark ask Uncle Dorthna as they followed behind him.

  “Why don’t you think you’re better than Mel?”

  “Well, Mel is… complicated,” Ark said with a touch of hesitation.

  “And Ninra is not?”

  “Half the things Mel is capable of doing, he doesn’t do. He practically holds himself back from being him.” Ark sighed. “I wasn’t surprised to find out that he became this [August Intruder]. He can be terrifying when he stops holding back.”

  “I’m not terrifying,” Melmarc said without looking back.

  “Shush, Mel,” Dorthna said. “The conversation is about you, not for you.”

  Melmarc sighed but didn’t say anything.

  “Well,” Dorthna continued, addressing Ark. “Ninra is completely aware of who she is, and that’s why she’s better than you.”

  Ark groaned as if this was news to him.

  Uncle Dorthna chuckled as they stepped into the kitchen and made their way to the back door. “Maybe you’ll be better if you ever get to evolve to [Demon God].”

  Ark stumbled but caught himself.

  “There’s such a thing as a [Demon God]?” he blurted out. “How do I evolve to that?”

  Dorthna ignored the questions, sounding thoughtful. “Or maybe you just never will.”

  …

  All of five of them stood in the garden. It was as beautiful as Melmarc remembered. Dorthna had definitely done a good job of keeping it healthy.

  “I don’t think it’s safe to do what we want to do out in the open,” Ark said. “Some of my skills can be quite devastating, and our neighbors could get terrified.”

  “Your uncle has that covered,” their mother said, walking up to one edge of the garden.

  Dorthna looked up at the sky. “I really don’t, though.”

  Their mother’s attention snapped up from the roots of one of the cluster of plants to look at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Careful,” Dorthna said with a smile. “You’re not an Oath.”

  “Yet,” their mother returned with a grin before returning her attention to the plant. “Please, if you’ve not got it covered, get it covered.”

  Dorthna opened his mouth to say something only to close it when their father looked at him. Grumbling under his breath, Dorthna flicked his hand in the air.

  “There, done. Happy.”

  Their father’s response was simply to return his attention to their mother who was now getting up from the flowers. She had an entire bunch in her hand which left a very clear patch in the ground.

  Ark nudged Melmarc with his shoulder. “For someone so obsessed with her flowers, that’s quite the murder.”

  Melmarc couldn’t disagree. But he didn’t get the time to voice it. The ground beneath their feet released a soft green glow, drawing the attention of him and his brother.

  Looking down, they found each blade of grass emitting a soft green glow. The glow grew brighter, slowly illuminating the place.

  “Look at that.” Ark pointed.

  Melmarc followed the direction of his finger and found the tiny drops that littered the air he had started to call mana were all gathering to specific parts of the ground. Each one changed from their individual color to the color of the grass as they pulled down.

  Where they touched the grass, the grass grew greener. It didn’t take long for Melmarc to see what Ark was pointing out. There were parts of the grass that were now greener than others and they formed symbols that Melmarc couldn’t recognize.

  “A spell,” he muttered in realization.

  Uncle Dorthna nodded. “A locking spell. Boring and simple, but useful for the purpose.”

  “Wow.” Ark was busy tracing the spell with his eyes, following the lines. “Where does it start?”

  “Brace for impact,” was the only answer Dorthna gave.

  Melmarc blinked, even though he didn’t remember doing so, and the garden was gone. Now, he was left standing alone in an open space.

  The floor was made of black tiles, and while the room was wide enough to be called an open space, he could still see the walls on all sides, as black as the tiles beneath him.

  Melmarc turned, taking the entire place in. He was not alone, though. Uncle Dorthna stood exactly where he had been before the scenery had changed while Ark doubled over to the side, dropping to his knees, and threw up.

  “Sorry about that,” Dorthna told him. “Demon mana doesn’t work very well with this type of spells. But you’ll get used to it.”

  Ark wiped his lips with the back of his arm.

  Gross.

  Done, Ark looked up but didn’t stand up. “Where are we?”

  Their mother turned to them, bouquet of flowers still in her hands. “Welcome to the underground cellar.”

  Ark looked around. “Doesn’t look like an underground cellar to me.”

  “It’s an underground cellar,” their mother insisted.

  Ark looked at Melmarc. “Sounds like there’s more to it than what we are looking at.”

  “It does,” Melmarc agreed with a nod.

  “You think we can get her to tell us?”

  Melmarc looked at his mother, saw the certainty in her eyes and shook his head. “Nope. We’ll have a better chance getting the info out of dad.”

  Ark looked at their mother, then back to him. “That bad?”

  Melmarc nodded.

  With a sigh, Ark got to his feet. “Sorry about the mess, I’ll just get it—”

  His jaw dropped as he and Melmarc looked down at the floor where he’d thrown up. Spotless black tiles looked back, not a hint of vomit.

  Ark stared in disbelief. “How?”

  Uncle Dorthna made a dazzling gesture with his hands, fingers moving and everything. “Magic.”

  Melmarc wasn’t sure which was more confusing, the vanished vomit or Uncle Dorthna doing jazz hands.

  “You two are no fun sometimes,” Dorthna said, deflating a little. “Ninra loves my quirks.”

  “Uncle D,” Ark said. “With all due respect, you don’t have quirks.”

  “And with all due respect, Ninra didn’t react so surprised the first time she came here.”

  Ark’s jaw dropped and he turned an accusatory gaze on their mother. “Ninra’s been here?”

  “Of course.” Their mother tossed the flowers over her shoulder. “She’s been here a few times.”

  “And I don’t?” Ark grumbled. “I’m beginning to think you all don’t appreciate me in this family.”

  Melmarc cocked a sarcastic brow at him. “I also wasn’t aware.”

  “That’s because you wouldn’t care.” Ark shooed him away. “It doesn’t count.”

  Their mother pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “We’ve been over this before, Ark. You’re a wild card and Mel’s… well… Mel.”

  “I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” Ark protested.

  “Your father and I know that.”

  “Then what’s the excuse this time?”

  Their mother and father shared a look, their father’s expression as empty as always, before their mother answered. “Well, honestly, dealing with you always trying to con your way into coming here all the time was just not a level of stress we were ready to deal with.”

  Ark gasped in faux shock. He opened his mouth, closed it, took on a thoughtful expression. Finally, he nodded in acceptance.

  “Fair point.”

  Ignoring his older brother, Melmarc turned to look around. Just as he had seen previously, it was nothing but a large open space. The particles of mana in the air reacted as they always did. They clawed against his mother and father, more of black and red particles than any other color. As for Ark only the black particles were drawn to him. Fewer touched against his skin while more hovered close to him.

  Curious, Melmarc looked at their Uncle Dorthna. The man stood casually in the midst of the chaos of mana particles, aa void onto himself. He was surrounded by a vacuum completely devoid of mana particles as wide as four feet around him.

  Dorthna looked at him, met his eyes, then shrugged. “Don’t ask because I can’t tell. No idea how it’s happening.”

  “You know that I can see them?” Melmarc asked, surprised.

  Dorthna gave him a shrug. “If you really want to surprise me, do something that I do not know at all.”

  “So, there’s nothing you don’t know?”

  “Well… I wouldn’t say—”

  “No.” Their father’s voice echoed through the entire training room. “There is nothing he does not know.”

  Melmarc looked at his uncle. Again, there was no note of dissonance in his father’s voice. And that was saying a lot.

  “So what are we doing here?” Ark asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Melmarc replied.

  Ark pointed at him. “It is.” Then he pointed at them. “But I want to hear mom say it.”

  Walking up to him, their mother shook her head. Standing in front of him, she gestured for him to lower his head.

  Ark obeyed. She gave him a motherly kiss on the forehead and looked him in the eye. “Sometimes I think the nurses gave me the wrong child from the nursery.”

  Ark smiled at her. “Love you too, mom.”

  Their mother laughed.

  “We’re here to train,” she said. “And by train, I mean that you and your brother are going to fight against each other.”

  Ark’s eyes moved to Melmarc.

  “Sounds like so much fun.”