Lucian's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and undisguised pride flashing across his usually stoic features. He moved quickly, almost eagerly, towards Areion, stopping just inches away. He looked up, observing how tall his younger brother had grown, now almost equal to his own height. A wave of regret, sharp and poignant, washed over Lucian—regret for what he had missed, the milestones he hadn't witnessed. He placed his hands on Areion's shoulders, his grip firm yet gentle. "Brother," he stammered, his voice thick with emotion, "you've grown so much…."
Areion grinned, warmth radiating from him. "It's good to be back, Big Brother." He clapped a hand over Lucian's, the gesture conveying a familiarity that transcended the years of separation. "You haven't changed a bit, though. Still the same as I left you to be."
Lucian chuckled, a rare sound that echoed the genuine pleasure he felt. "And you, little brother," he said, a playful glint in his eyes, "have become quite the man. I almost didn't recognize you. Time really flies like nothing in Suryasthirh. I can't believe it's just been one year." He paused, his expression turning serious. "We have missed you, Areion. More than words can say." Areion for a moment looked at his mother who grinning like she knew his reaction.
[Oh so that's what it is. Suryasthrih and Eos has different time flows.] He maintains his contact for a moment while she looking at almost waiting for something. [No arya, no don't give her the satisfaction of your ignorance. Control.] Areion looks back at lucian with much control.
"I've missed you all too," Areion admitted, his voice softening. "Suryasthirh was… challenging and beautiful. But it feels good to be home."
His gaze shifted to the side, noticing his father approaching. Areion turned to face Valdemar, joining his palms together in a slow, respectful bow. "Pranam, Father," he said, his voice clear and resonant.
Vivienne beamed, her eyes sparkling with maternal pride at Areion's graceful manners. "Oh, Areion," she said, her voice filled with warmth, "You've become quite the gentleman. Our decision was correct all along."
Lucian, too, wore a subtle expression of pride, though he tried to maintain his usual composure. "Indeed," he agreed, nodding in approval. "You carry yourself with a dignity that befits a prince of Sangrael now. Not like a toddler." The last word from his mouth feels a little off.
Caius, however, remained silent, his expression unreadable. A flicker of resentment crossed his face, quickly masked by a forced smile.
Valdemar's arms wrapping around his son with a strength that belied his age. He closed his eyes, simply savoring the moment, the feeling of his son's presence. "Welcome back, my boy, Welcome home."
Areion returned the embrace, a wave of warmth washing over him. He had faced many challenges in Suryasthirh, but none had prepared him for the overwhelming emotions of this reunion.
The throne room, usually a place of formal pronouncements and political maneuvering, was filled with an almost tangible sense of affection and longing.
.
Thud!
Lyra crouched low, her midnight blue hair spilling over her shoulders in a tangled shag cut, strands swaying as she shifted uneasily. Her boots scuffed the dirt, and her fingers—small, restless—traced wobbly spirals into the earth. She flinched. Her hazel eyes flicked toward Caius, then darted back to the ground, wide and skittish, like she wasn't sure she should be here at all.
"You know hurting yourself won't solve any issues."
The words hung there, fragile and small, almost lost beneath Caius's grunts. Lyra didn't look up—couldn't. Her finger kept moving, sketching a jagged little star now, the dirt crumbling under her touch. She wasn't even sure he'd heard her, and part of her hoped he hadn't. What if he turned that anger on her? She'd seen him snap before—not at her, not yet—but the thought made her stomach twist all the same.
Caius's rhythm faltered, just for a beat. His fist hovered mid-air, knuckles glistening with blood and sap, and his head tilted slightly, enough to show he'd caught her words.
He didn't turn, didn't speak—just drove his fist into the tree again, harder this time, a low growl rumbling from his chest.
Lyra flinched, her hand jerking back from the ground as if burned. She hugged her knees closer, her hair falling forward to curtain her face, and muttered under her breath, "I-I mean, it's just… it won't fix anything. Probably." Her cheeks flushed hot, and she bit her lip, wishing she could claw the words back.
"I wish he wouldn't have been born."
She felt the resentment in his tone but didn't dare speak about it.
"I wish it was just me, brother, and father." He paused, letting out his feelings for once. "Brother should be heir… Not him. He stole everything from us."
She mustered up her courage. "What do you mean, everything? I don't understand why there's so much resentment toward your own brother."
His eyes stayed fixed on the blood trail on the oak trunk. Then, he turned to her, his eyes flaring with rage. "You don't get it… and you won't get it… because you don't know anything." He fell to the ground, punching the dirt. He tightened his jaw until it ached. "He stole brother's birthright." His mind swirled around the time Areion was announced as heir, the painful look on Lucian's face, how his world seemed to turn upside down. His white knuckles clenched into fists. Tears began to drip from his eyes.
Lyra held him from behind, trying to offer comfort in his moment of weakness, but she lacked the words to express her support. After a few seconds, he stopped quivering. "It's all her fault…"
She couldn't understand the underlying meaning of "her" and decided not to push him. She stood up, helping Caius to his feet. "We've been here for a long time now… We should go, or else we'll be in trouble." She looked at him as they walked in silence. There was still fear in her heart, but she managed to contain it.