The mansion was alive with quiet bustle. Servants moved quickly through the hallways, carrying trays of ribbons, boxes of crystal beads, and armfuls of fresh flowers. The banquet hall—usually reserved for formal dinners—was being transformed into something fit for celebration.
The sun had long dipped below the horizon, and now the pale glow of moonlight streamed in through the tall windows, mingling with the golden light of lanterns and candles. Shadows danced along the decorated walls where garlands were half-hung and tables half-set. Tomorrow was Jason's fifteenth birthday, and the whole household buzzed with anticipation.
Susan barged into my room without knocking. "Lucian! What should we give Jason for his birthday?"
I looked at her. "Food. He likes sweets."
She gave me a stare like I had just confessed to being brainless. "That's not a gift, that's dessert."
"Food can be a gift," I said just to annoy her. "It's thoughtful, delicious, and gone quickly, so he never has to pretend to treasure it forever."
Susan threw herself onto my bed, groaning like a dying soldier. "You're impossible."
"Or maybe I'm brilliant," I muttered.
She ignored me. "It's his 12th birthday. That's important. We need something special."
We sat in silence for a moment, tossing around half-baked ideas. Finally, Susan sprang upright. "Let's ask Mama. She'll know what to do."
The banquet hall was glowing with soft yellow and orange magic lamp light. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, turning the polished floors silver. Mama stood at the center, giving directions with graceful precision, her presence like calm water in a busy stream. She checked the placement of ribbons, nodded at the servants hanging garlands, and adjusted a flower arrangement herself when it didn't meet her eye.
"Mama!" Susan called, running over.
Risa turned, her face immediately softening. "My darlings. What brings you here?"
Susan grabbed her hand and tugged her toward a quieter corner. "Mama, we need your help."
Risa's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Ah, so it is trouble."
"It's not trouble!" Susan hissed. "We just… can't decide what to give Jason as a gift. Do you know what he might want?"
Risa blinked, then chuckled softly. "That's what you two are worried about? I thought it was something dire."
"It is dire!" Susan whispered urgently. "We can't just give him nothing. It's his fifteenth birthday tomorrow!"
I crossed my arms. "Exactly. And we can't just ask him directly. You know him best. Any suggestions?"
Mama looked at us, eyes warm, her voice gentler now. "My love's, you don't need to burden yourselves so much. Jason will be happy with whatever you give. When a gift is offered from the heart, its value doesn't lie in gold or rarity. It lies in the love behind it. Even the simplest gift becomes priceless when given sincerely."
Susan's mouth fell open slightly, like she'd just been handed some grand secret. "That's… beautiful, Mama."
I tilted my head. "…But that doesn't actually tell us what to buy."
Risa laughed and brushed her fingers through my hair. "That's for you two to decide. You are his brother and sister. Whatever you choose will mean more to him than anything I could suggest."
Back in my room, Susan collapsed into the chair with a dramatic sigh. "Even Mama couldn't help."
"She helped," I said. "She gave us a philosophy lecture instead of an answer."
"Don't be rude."
"I'm not. I'm quoting her."
But her words stuck in my head. A gift from the heart, huh? I tapped my chin. "Wait… Jason's leaving for the magic academy next month, right? Why don't we give him something useful for that?"
Susan's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea! Something practical."
I nodded. "What about a sword?"
"Too expensive, and he barely trains with them," she shot back.
"Alright… What about books? He'll need them at the academy."
She wrinkled her nose. "Books? That's boring. And it won't even help much—at the academy, it's all about practical lessons."
"Fair." I leaned back.
Susan perked up suddenly. "What about a cloak? He could wear it to the academy. All proper wizards have cloaks."
I snorted. "Jason? Please. He's more like a knight than a wizard."
She tried—and failed—to smother a laugh. "True enough. He's just as uptight as Father."
We went back and forth for a while—arguing about shoes, pens, even some ridiculous idea of buying him a talking bird. Every suggestion was shot down for being too boring, too expensive, or just absurd.
Then it clicked.
"What about a magic ornament?" I said suddenly.
Susan tilted her head. "Like… a navratan ring? Or an amulet?"
"Exactly. Something like that. It'll help him with his magic, and he can keep it with him all the time. Every time he uses it, he'll think of us."
Susan's eyes lit up. "Yes! That's perfect. Practical, meaningful, and personal. I love it."
I smirked. "See? Genius."
She rolled her eyes. "Half-genius. I agreed with you, which makes it a joint idea."
"Sure," I muttered.
"But…" she frowned. "Where do we even get something like that on the night before his birthday?"
"Good question," I admitted.
Susan brightened. "Don't worry. Marcus will handle it."
I blinked. "Marcus?"
"Of course. He's the most capable person for this kind of job. If anyone can get it done, it's him."
That, at least, was true. Marcus had a reputation for solving impossible problems.
I leaned back with a grin. "Then it's settled. A magic ornament it is."
Susan crossed her arms smugly. "Teamwork."
I raised an eyebrow. "Teamwork? Pretty sure I came up with the idea."
"Correction: I made it brilliant."
I groaned, but couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. Let's just hope Jason likes it tomorrow."
Susan smirked. "He will. Mama said it herself—'a gift from the heart matters more than anything else.'"
I groaned louder. "Stop quoting her already."
Susan only laughed, the sound mingling with the lanternlight and the quiet bustle from downstairs, as the house prepared for Jason's big day tomorrow.