The warmth of the tea hadn't faded when the room swelled again—not just with the news, but with laughter and chatter. Rael's rise to power lit a spark in both his parents, and that spark soon became a flame of celebration.
"Do you remember," his father said, chuckling, "how Rael used to rewrite the estate's finance records for fun? He said the official steward's math was offensive."
His mother nodded with an amused sigh. "And he was ten. Ten years old, and already correcting adults."
"I remember that," Taryn added with a smile. "He made pie charts out of spirit stones."
They all laughed.
That laughter lingered for a while, wrapped in golden sunlight and the aroma of spiced tea. But then, his father grew thoughtful and glanced at his wife. She met the gaze and gave a subtle nod—as if an idea had just passed between them without a word.
"I think," his father said slowly, "this calls for more than a toast."
His mother straightened, eyes bright. "It's time."
Taryn looked between them. "Time for what?"
"A gathering," his father declared. "A proper one. It's been far too long since all of you were under the same roof."
"All of us?" Taryn asked, eyes widening.
"All seven of you," his mother affirmed. "Your brothers and sisters are all carving their own names into the world—each in their own way—but this… this is a moment to remember. Rael becoming a minister of the Emperor's court is no small thing."
"Not to mention," his father added with a side glance, "our youngest has finally awakened with a spirit brighter than the sun. That alone is worth celebrating."
Taryn couldn't help but laugh, a little bashful. "I'm just getting started…"
"All the more reason," his mother said, leaning forward. "Let them see with their own eyes. Let them see the Taryn who speaks clearly and eats heartily and climbs from his bed with a smile. Not the sickly boy they remember."
A soft pressure pressed in his chest—warm and real.
He had been so caught in the idea of "what now" that he hadn't thought about "who still cared."
His family wasn't just strong—they were together. Even if scattered by paths and titles and cities, they were bonded by more than blood.
And now, they would reunite.
His father grinned. "Just imagine it—your eldest brother riding in on that monstrous spirit beast of his, your second sister bragging about her alchemy, your fourth brother refusing to smile even while he brings rare spirit wine, and the twins… causing chaos."
Taryn laughed again. "They really are bigshots now."
"All of you are," his mother said, reaching to touch his hand. "Some by name, others by heart."
Taryn swallowed gently, nodding. "I'll be ready."
Later, the hall quieted as the sun shifted lower in the sky. His parents remained behind, discussing the preparations with servants as Taryn quietly rose and walked back toward his room.
His pace was slow—not from weakness, but from thought.
All my siblings… here… under one roof.
His fingers trailed along the smooth railing as he walked. Birds fluttered by in the trees. A pair of maids passed and bowed politely.
He looked up at the sky, now tinged with orange and gold, and for a moment felt the weight of everything settling.
Not a burden—an expectation.
One he wanted to rise to.
He reached his door, pushed it open, and stepped back into the room where everything had begun.
The bed still freshly made. The tray cleared. The faint scent of incense.
Taryn sat at the edge of the bed.
Closed his eyes.
Breathed deeply.
A gathering was coming.
And so was his next chapter.