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Children often idolize their parents.
I wonder... at some point, did I revere mine? -- Illusio
I awoke...
The morning sun filtered through the curtains — soft yet hard, warm yet cold — but it could not hide the weight pressing on my chest.
It's been about a year since I was reincarnated here, and things have gotten a little more interesting. Not that I care much.
I shifted and got out of my crib. Sounds came from down the hall, voices that were familiar... warm.
I heard father's voice, sharp and commanding, which went well with mother's soft laughter. Hearing them having such a fun talk made butterflies rise in my stomach.
Was a family always supposed to be this way? I wouldn't know...
I walked down the hall towards the warm voices. "Mama, dada," I said.
"Oh, Solan, you're up?" Father said.
"Solan, come sit on my lap," mother replied immediately after.
"Yes, mama."
I climbed onto mother's lap, and she hugged me, arms wrapped around me like I was a doll. She pressed her cheeks against mine (damn, I hate her).
"Solan, you're such a cute child," mother said.
"Yes, he's growing up to seem like a fine heir so far," Mortain replied.
"Now then, dear, I'll be taking Solan later today to go to the head house. Father is getting very impatient."
Huh? What? I'm going somewhere? Where could he be taking me? This is out of the blue. How could I not have heard of this? And father? Does he mean my grandpa? No point thinking of any of this — it'll all be answered soon.
"But what about the frequent monster attacks in the west? They're even growing to the south now. Can we even spare time for Alaric and his foolish whims?"
"I wish I could spare the time, but I don't have a choice here. I'll try my best to be back soon. I'll leave you in charge, dear. Try not to go overboard."
He then kissed her on the cheek and took me to my room.
Another dream... But not of ominous orbs or beautiful shining stars... No — this one was real. And I hated every bit of it. Oh, how I hated this dream, always coming back to me. Clawing its way back into my sleep. A memory that refused to die no matter how many times I wanted it to die. A voice telling me to shut up and submit... It was—
"Solan... Solan... Wake up. We're almost at Grandpa's house. Oh, you're sweating a lot. Is this normal?"
I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was my father... He looked down on me, eyes full of worry, like I was a creature that needed to be pitied. Pathetic.
The carriage stopped, and a butler opened the door for us. About time — it was stuffy in there. And there I saw it... a grand manor, bigger than even ours.
"Master Mortain, Master Solan. Sir Alaric is waiting in the meeting room on the second floor for you. Do not worry, we will get your luggage so you can go immediately."
"Alright, thank you. Solan, let us go."
"Ok, dada."
Seems like this place is serious. Whatever. I guess, man, I feel so weak I can't walk. Damn, I hate this body.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Solan. I didn't realize you were tired. Let me pick you up."
Huh, what the hell? Is he looking down on me? Nothing I can do about this. Might as well let it happen. Who cares.
The door to the meeting room opened. It was wide. There were two couches and a circular table with lavish paintings around.
"So this must be Solan, I take it, Mortain."
"Yes, father. This is your grandson. Say hello, Solan."
I should act like a kid, right? "Hello." Was that too formal?
"Oh, this one has manners, I see. At such a young age, too. Great job, Mortain—" cough cough "Father, are you ok?"
"Yes, I am quite alright. Allow me to hold him."
"Of course."
My father handed me down to my grandfather. His hands were cold and warm, soft yet had seen many different battles and were worn. It was comforting in a way, to be honest. I could even fall asleep just like this.
"Oh, Solan, look at you. You're so adorable."
"Father, I take it seeing Solan is not the only reason you called me and him here?"
"Yes, Mortain. I was thinking we could have Solan go through the Children's Ordeal of the First Flame to strengthen his aptitude for magic."
"What? Why, father? This makes no sense."
Huh, what is this First Flame? It kinda sounds like a dungeon of sorts.
"Because, Mortain, I've heard of the monsters' hostility in the west and south, and Solan will need power in the future. Anyways, call it insurance."
"Thank you so much, father. I could never repay this gratitude."
The hell? Is this really that special?
"Since it's getting late here, we'll hold the ceremony tomorrow. Make sure you and Solan get some rest — you'll wake up early."
"Yes, father. I understand."
Seems like he's fired up even though he's tired. Weird.
"Let's take you upstairs, little Solan."
Ugh, he's acting like that insufferable woman.
Father laid me down on the crib in the guest room, then had a sorrowful look in his eyes.
"Solan, know that I will always love you, no matter what. Even if you can't understand me now, you will one day."
How sappy. And what does he mean? I understand it, but I don't care or even give a shit about his "love." I'm just gonna sleep.
Parents are the epitome of deceivers. They force their ideals onto their children, dressing up control as "love," and when the child fails to meet those expectations, they grow disappointed as if it were the child's fault. They speak of care and guidance, but in the end, they only want the child shackled and molded into what they desire.
God, I hate families.
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