"Good morning," he sang, voice teasing, a little higher than usual, almost like a boy showing off. His hair, silver and still damp from a rushed bath, caught the sunlight like threads of silk. He wiggled his fingers dramatically at them as he sat down. "Ta-da! Your dazzling lord has arrived."
"Pfft." Elen nearly spat out her milk. "Who even announces themselves like that?"
"An angel does," Leya said under her breath, cheeks warming as soon as she realized what she'd said.
Lucien gave a small smile, watching him carefully. "You're… in a good mood."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Elias picked up a spoon and twirled it like a sword, tapping Elen's head with the handle. "I have food, I have you brats, I have—what more does a man need?"
"You didn't sleep well," Lucien said quietly. It wasn't a question.
For a moment Elias's hand froze, spoon glinting midair. Then he laughed, soft but sharp enough to push the subject away. "Don't worry about me. I'm still young! Just twenty, remember? That's prime energy years." He puffed his chest a little, joking, but his eyes softened when they lingered on Leya.
It was subtle, but different. He hovered more than usual — adjusting her chair before she sat, filling her cup himself, brushing a stray hair from her forehead when she tried to hide behind it. Overprotective, almost without realizing it.
Elen caught on first, of course. "Ohooo," he said, narrowing his eyes, "why are you treating her like a princess today, huh?"
"Because she is one," Elias said immediately, no hesitation. His tone was light, but the steel underneath made Leya blush and the others blink.
Lucien's fork stilled. He glanced between them, a strange tightness in his chest.
"Don't tell me you'll lock her in a tower next," Elen teased, nudging him with a grin.
"Maybe I should," Elias said with a smirk, though his eyes flashed just briefly. "That way no stupid heroes try to steal her."
The table went quiet, caught between laughter and surprise. Elias noticed too late, sighed, and waved it off with a chuckle. "Ignore me, ignore me. I'm just jealous you're all growing up too fast. Let me be childish while I still can, okay?"
He leaned back, balancing his chair dangerously, grinning like a reckless boy. For a moment he really was just twenty, stealing the youth he never had, while the dream's shadows whispered at the edges of his mind.
---
After breakfast, Elias stretched like a lazy cat, arms wide, nearly knocking over a jug of juice.
"Okay, okay—enough eating. Let's go outside!" he declared, springing to his feet with the energy of someone who hadn't spent half the night wrestling with nightmares.
"Outside? To do what?" Leya tilted her head, still sipping her drink.
"Anything. Everything. Play, run, climb trees—fight me if you dare!" Elias spun dramatically, pointing at Elen, who almost choked.
"Fight you?! Are you insane?!" Elen threw up his hands. "What am I, suicidal?"
"See?" Elias pouted, puffing out his cheeks. "Coward. I finally have time to be childish and no one wants to play with me."
Leya giggled behind her hand. Lucien gave a small chuckle too, though his gaze lingered on Elias a little longer, noticing the faint shadows beneath his eyes.
Elias didn't let them linger. He darted forward suddenly, scooping Leya up bridal-style without warning.
"Wha—!?" She squealed, clinging to his shoulder.
"See? She's light enough to toss into the lake," Elias said casually, walking toward the garden pond.
"PUT ME DOWN!" Leya thrashed, her face red.
Elen nearly fell over laughing. "Do it! Throw her in!"
But before Elias could, Lucien was already up, voice firm. "Don't."
The sharpness of it cut through the laughter. Elias paused, eyes flicking to Lucien. Then, slowly, he set Leya down, ruffling her hair. "Relax. I wouldn't actually do it."
He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. The mood shifted for just a second, tension prickling—then Elen broke it, groaning. "You're both killjoys. Fine, if we're not drowning sisters, what are we doing?"
"Blind Man's Buff," Elias announced.
"What's that?" Leya asked, curiosity outweighing her embarrassment.
"You'll see." Elias tore a strip of cloth from his sleeve and tied it around his eyes. The moment the fabric slid over his face, his hands trembled—not enough for the children to notice, but he felt it. The blindfold always carried the scent of dread. He remembered the darkness of trials, the suffocating helplessness.
He inhaled sharply, steadying himself. It's different now. I'm not there anymore. They're here with me.
"All right!" he said, voice brighter, masking the crack inside. "I'll find you, and if I catch you—" He swiped the air dramatically. "You're mine."
The kids scattered, laughing, and for the first time in years Elias stumbled through the grass like an ordinary boy.
Elen couldn't resist teasing. He whispered loudly, "Leya, over here! Come closer to me so he'll catch you first."
Leya smacked him, whisper-yelling, "Shut up!"
Lucien, unusually playful, suddenly leaned close to Elen's ear and murmured in a low, flirtatious tone, "What if he catches me instead?"
Elen yelped and shoved him, face red, making everyone burst into laughter—even Elias, who stumbled at the sound, grinning wide.
For that moment, the world was simple. They were children, and Elias was one of them—running, laughing, forgetting.
Later, when they lay sprawled on the grass, catching shapes in the drifting clouds, Elias turned his head to watch them. The weight of the dream still pressed faintly at the back of his mind, but looking at their smiles, he thought: Maybe this time, I won't lose everything.
---
That evening, they played Blind Man's Buff. Elias blindfolded, arms reaching, children shrieking with laughter.
Even Elias, caught in their laughter, became a child again. For a moment, he forgot blood, titles, curses. There was only wind, grass, voices, and the sky above.
Elias tied the cloth over his eyes. The fabric was cool, familiar against his skin — too familiar. For a breath, his chest tightened. He remembered the endless dark, the way laughter used to feel like knives around him when he was younger, when the blindfold wasn't a game but a cage.
But then—
"Ready or not, Elias is coming!" Elen shouted, voice cracking with mischief.