The morning sun spilled softly through the shutters, stretching thin lines of gold across the floor. I stirred slightly, still wrapped in bandages from yesterday's mishap. My body ached in a dozen places, but I was alive—and that was enough.
Avaris hovered near the doorway, adjusting a stray fold of my robe with her calm, precise movements. She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my temple.
"Be careful today," she murmured, a faint teasing in her voice. "And don't overdo anything. Come home early."
I nodded. "I will." Nothing dramatic, nothing unusual. Just another morning.
Arin bounded into the room, eyes bright with concern. "Father! Are you feeling better?"
Lysa followed behind him, her gaze sharp but caring. "Yes, Father. don't push yourself too hard today... Or who's going to feed us?"
I gave them a faint smile. "I'll be careful. Thank you." Their concern was genuine—and that was more comforting than words.
By mid-morning, I stepped outside. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of morning dew and freshly baked bread from the village bakery. Despite the lingering soreness in my limbs, I felt the familiar pull of duty. A responsible man had responsibilities—to his family, to his work, and to the small town that relied on his knowledge.
The streets were quiet, children playing in small clusters, elders exchanging morning greetings. It was peaceful here, in contrast to the chaos waiting at home.
The academy wasn't far. As I approached, a group of students practicing calligraphy paused mid-stroke. Several bowed deeply.
"Master Ilyas!" they chorused.
I nodded politely, continuing toward the classroom. Inside, the air smelled of ink and parchment, a comforting scent that reminded me why I had chosen this work.
Inside, I began my morning rounds—checking on students, reviewing essays, correcting small mistakes. Every minor adjustment seemed to inspire exaggerated reverence.
"Just a small correction," I murmured as one boy nearly toppled backward in a bow. "It's only a minor adjustment, nothing more."
The students' eyes widened as though I had just revealed the secret of life itself. I couldn't help but chuckle quietly. Outside the house, I am respected and admired. Inside… a wooden spoon could have felled me yesterday.
After a few hours of lessons and advising, I moved outside to deliver notes to a nearby scholar. The streets were alive with morning activity. Villagers stopped me to ask for advice, students waved, and a few even bowed mid-step.
It was surreal. Here, I was the calm, capable scholar everyone looked up to. At home… I was a slightly battered father, constantly dodging miniature catastrophes.
I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. The scholar revered by all, yet trembling at breakfast at home…
As I walked, I thought of Arin and Lysa. Even on their holiday, they had stayed home, quietly observing me and making sure I wasn't pushing myself too hard. Their concern was subtle but unmistakable. I allowed myself a small chuckle. Typical of them—to worry without making a fuss.
Avaris' gentle care earlier flashed in my mind, the way she had smoothed my robe and kissed my temple. I imagined her watching over me, always poised yet ever vigilant. There was warmth in knowing she was nearby, that someone cared so deeply.
By midday, I returned to the academy, reviewing notes, offering small pieces of advice, and watching students struggle and excel in equal measure. The comedy of the situation wasn't lost on me—children taking my words as gospel, while I, a man barely able to lift a tray without wincing, felt like a giant in their eyes.
Yet there was comfort in it. Outside the home, I could be competent, calm, and respected. Inside, I could be loved, fussed over, and reminded of my humanity. Both worlds balanced each other in a strange, perfect way.
As the afternoon sun climbed higher, I finally thought about returning home. The image of Arin spinning a spoon through the air and Lysa silently calculating angles to avoid another disaster danced in my mind.
I shook my head, smiling to myself. Nothing about this family is ever simple.
And with that thought, I headed back, careful with each step, already anticipating the warmth, the chaos, and the laughter that awaited me at home.