The morning sun spilled through the sheer kitchen curtains in warm, honeyed streams, illuminating the light dusting of flour on the wooden counter and the quiet domestic routine of the apartment.
Aefia sat at the small kitchen table in her dark green cloak—already fully dressed for her departure, her sword safely concealed beneath her coat—mechanically chewing on a slice of toasted bread. Across from her, perched proudly in her high chair, Lyra was conducting what could only be described as a masterpiece of chaotic fine art.
Spread out over the wooden tray was a piece of parchment paper heavily decorated with grease marks, a smear of leftover strawberry jam, and a stray drop of milk. In her chubby little fist, Lyra held a thick blue crayon, gripping it like a tiny weapon as she stabbed and dragged it across the paper in sharp, aggressive zig-zags.
Scritch-scratch-scritch.
The sound echoed rhythmically through the quiet kitchen. Every sharp stroke was executed with profound, terrifying concentration. Her brows were knit together in a fierce expression that was so undeniably Aefia's that Helio couldn't help but chuckle as he poured three cups of warm herbal tea at the counter.
"Is she drawing a battle plan or planning a military coup?" Helio asked, sliding a mug in front of Aefia. "Because those lines look suspiciously like tactical flank formations."
"She's expressing her artistic soul," Aefia said smoothly, taking a slow sip of her tea. "And honestly, her line work shows far more discipline than most Smod vanguard recruits."
Right on cue, Lyra slammed the blue crayon down onto the tray with a triumphant thump, sending a small drop of jam fluttering onto the edge of the table. She lifted the chaotic, heavily stained piece of paper with both hands, holding it up like a royal decree.
Her luminous green eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated pride. She broke into a huge, toothy grin, her chubby cheeks puffing out as she thrust the paper directly into Aefia's face.
"Mama! Look! Look!" Lyra babbled loudly, her voice practically bouncing off the walls.
Aefia blinked, leaning back slightly to take in the sheer visual chaos of blue scratches, jam smudges, and wax residue. A soft, genuine smile instantly broke through her solemn morning composure, her garnet eyes melting into pure warmth.
"Oh, wow," Aefia cooed, taking the paper with the utmost reverence, holding it as if it were a high-tier ancient grimoire. "Look at this detail. Is this... a dragon? Or is this 'lazy dada' getting yelled at for burning the stew?"
"Hey!" Helio called out from standing by the stove, waving his wooden spoon defensively. "I heard that!"
Lyra giggled hysterically at her mother's words, clapping her hands together vigorously, completely oblivious to her father's dramatic indignation. "Dada lazy! Big monster!" she squeaked, pointing a chubby finger at a particularly aggressive dark blue scribble in the center of the paper.
"See?" Aefia looked up at Helio with a victorious smirk. "The artist has spoken. It's a portrait of you."
Helio shook his head, though a fond, helpless smile tugged at his lips as he walked over, setting a small bowl of sliced fruit beside Lyra's chair. "Unbelievable. I make the breakfast, I pour the tea, and I get turned into a blue scribble monster on official toddler parchment."
He leaned down, pressing a quick, tender kiss to the side of Lyra's head, before resting his hand gently over Aefia's shoulder, his grip tightening subtly as the quiet ticking of the wall clock reminded them both of the rising sun.
Aefia folded the crayon-stained paper with extreme care, sliding it neatly into the inner pocket of her green cloak, right beside her heart.
"I am keeping this," Aefia whispered softly, looking up into Helio's green eyes with a quiet, unshakeable vow. "It's my new lucky charm for the dungeon."
Helio's hand remained anchored on Aefia's shoulder, his thumb stroking through the dark fabric of her cloak with a slow, deliberate pressure. The warmth of the kitchen—the smell of sweet tea, toasted bread, and strawberry jam—stood in sharp, agonizing contrast to the cold, uncertain road waiting just beyond their front door.
Aefia patted the inner pocket where Lyra's masterpiece rested safely against her ribs.
She took a quiet breath, draining the rest of her herbal tea in one smooth motion before setting the ceramic mug down with a soft clack.
"Right," Aefia murmured, her voice steadying as she prepared herself for the inevitable farewell. She turned her head slightly to look up at Helio. "I should move before the morning traffic on the main road gets choked."
Helio didn't immediately let go. His green eyes searched her face, tracing every sharp line and soft curve as if trying to etch her image into his memory all over again.
"You are sure you have everything? The portal stones? The extra rations? The blade?"
"Helio," Aefia said with a faint, affectionate smirk, reaching up to cover his hand with her own. "I have packed for world-ending campaigns with less fuss than this. Everything is where it needs to be."
"I know," he sighed, the tension in his shoulders dropping just a fraction. "I just... I am allowed to be a little insufferable when my wife goes off to play hero again."
"This is just a simple chore. If I were going to go out and play hero, I would at least bring Lyra with me to show her how her mom really is," Aefia corrected gently, her tone softening. "This is just administrative cleanup, unfortunately. I did want to bring Lyra along with me, so she could go visit the Guardian Realm alongside it. But I will be too busy to keep an eye on her that way. Afterall, the Great Yearly Catastrophe has left quite the damage behind."
She turned in her chair and slid out, kneeling down so she was at eye level with Lyra's high chair. The toddler was currently trying to use a piece of sliced apple as a secondary stamp on her tray, her chubby fingers coated in fruit juice.
"Lyra," Aefia called softly.
The baby paused, her luminous green eyes snapping to her mother. She tilted her head, her long, silky black hair tumbling over one shoulder. "Mama?"
Aefia reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind Lyra's small ear. "Mama has to go on a little trip today, sweet girl. I have to go tidy up a very messy place so we can play all day when I get back."
Lyra blinked, her tiny brows knitting together in confusion. She looked from Aefia's dark green cloak to the door, then back to Aefia. "Trip? No bye-bye?"
"Just a short bye-bye," Aefia promised, her voice carrying an unshakable warmth. She leaned forward, pressing a lingering, tender kiss against Lyra's forehead, then her button nose, and finally both of her squishy cheeks.
Lyra giggled, her sticky hands reaching out to grab the lapels of Aefia's cloak, holding on tight.
"Mama come back?" Lyra asked, her big green eyes wide and earnest.
"Always," Aefia whispered, her garnet eyes shining with fierce devotion. "I promise I will bring back a present, okay? But speaking of which... what does Lyra want?"
Lyra's eyes lit up at the mention of a present. "Pretty clip? For Lyra? From Mama's nice dress?"
She smiled, "alright. A pretty hair clip when I come back. One that matches Mama's own dress."
Lyra gasped, then smiled a toothy grin. "Really?!"
"For Lyra," Aefia confirmed with a smile, gently unclasping the toddler's little hands from her cloak and pressing a soft kiss to her palms. "One matching clip for you, and one for me. We will wear them together."
"Yay! Matching!" Lyra squealed, clapping her sticky hands together, completely winning over the solemnity of the room.
Aefia stood up, her dark green cloak settling around her frame. She turned to Helio, who was watching them with a mixture of quiet pride and lingering ache.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Aefia buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent of pine and crushed herbs.
"Don't do anything reckless," Helio murmured against her hair, his arms tightening as if trying to hold back the morning sun itself. "And don't be late. I am taking her to the harbor market later, and if you aren't back soon, I will buy her every loud toy on the coast just to annoy you."
Aefia let out a low, breathless laugh against his shoulder. "You wouldn't dare. You are the one who has to listen to them all day."
"Try me," he whispered, pulling back just enough to leave a lingering kiss to her forehead.
When he finally released her, Aefia took a slow step back toward the foyer. She slipped her boots on, checking the secure fastening of her cloak one last time.
At the high chair, Lyra was waving her chubby, jam-stained hand vigorously through the air. "Bye-bye Mama! Bring pretty clip!"
Aefia chuckled, leaning against the open doorway for just a second to cast one final, sweeping look over her family—her husband smiling through his lingering worry, and her daughter babbling happily in the warm morning light.
"Goodbye, my sweet girl. Goodbye, Helio," Aefia said softly, her garnet eyes glowing with a quiet, peaceful warmth. "I will see you both soon."
With a swift, decisive turn, she stepped out into the crisp autumn air, closing the heavy oak door behind her with a soft, solid click.
Inside the apartment, the quiet settled back down like a gentle blanket. Helio stood in the hallway for a long moment, staring at the closed door, his hand still resting on the frame. He let out a long, slow breath, steadying the heavy beat of his heart before turning back toward the kitchen.
"Mama gone?" Lyra called out from her high chair, her tone remarkably casual now that the promise of a hair clip had been established.
"Mama's gone on her errand, little princess," Helio said, walking over with a wet cloth to wipe down her sticky hands and face. "Which means it's just you and 'dada lazy' today."
Lyra giggled as he gently scrubbed the pink frosting off her nose. "Dada lazy! Eat cake!"
"No more cake for breakfast," Helio laughed, lifting her out of the chair and setting her down on her feet. "We have big plans today. Remember the bright lights and the loud music we saw near the town square yesterday?"
Lyra's ears perked up instantly. "Carnival?!"
"That's right," Helio smiled, kneeling down to hoist her up into his arms and walking towards Lyra's room. "The autumn carnival opened today. We are going to go buy tickets so we can ride the merry-go-round and eat spun sugar when Mama gets back."
He pulled out a dress from within her little wardrobe, pulling over Lyra's head and smoothing it down.
"Dance! Look, Dada, look!" Lyra squealed, stomping her little feet on the wooden floorboards as the frilly, pastel-pink skirt of her favorite dress swished around her knees. She twirled around in a clumsy circle, losing her balance for a fraction of a second before catching herself with a breathless, bubbling laugh.
Helio couldn't help the wide, fond smile that spread across his face as he crouched down, holding out a pair of tiny, white leather flats embroidered with delicate red butterflies.
"Very impressive, little princess," Helio praised, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "A masterpiece of a performance. But even royal dancers need shoes before they march out into the world."
"Yay! Carnival!" Lyra cheered, bouncing on her heels and immediately trying to run toward the door.
"Not so fast, wild child. We need your coat first." He caught her by her waist, pulling her back.
The moment his attention flicked down to unbuckle the strap, Lyra's eyes darted toward the hallway. Sensing a split-second window of absolute freedom, she let out a mischievous giggle, spun on her heels, and bolted toward the living room as fast as her chubby toddler legs could carry her.
"Hey—!" Helio gasped, reacting with the fast instincts honed from nearly two years of parenthood.
He lunged forward, his long arms reaching out to scoop her up around the waist just before she could make a break for the couch. Lyra let out a high-pitched, squealing laugh as she was hoisted into the air, her legs kicking playfully against his chest.
"Nice try, fast feet," Helio laughed, tucking her securely under his arm like a very energetic sack of grain before settling her down on the lower step of the entryway bench. "You aren't escaping 'dada lazy' that easily."
He gently captured one of her wiggling feet, sliding it into the soft leather flat. Lyra instantly stopped squirming, her luminous green eyes fixing onto the embroidered red butterfly on the toe. She wiggled her toes inside, tracing the tiny thread wings with a chubby index finger.
"Fly!" Lyra babbled softly, her voice dropping into a quiet, wondrous whisper. "Like Mama's magic."
Helio's chest tightened with a sudden, profound warmth. He looked at the tiny shoe, then up at his daughter's long, silky black hair framing her bright face. Aefia's magic often accidentally manifested in shimmering, spectral butterflies of gliterring crimson and dark violet—to Lyra, it was simply the prettiest thing her mother could make.
"That's right," Helio murmured gently, buckling the second shoe securely over her ankle. "Just like Mama's magic. When she comes back, we will ask her to make a whole flock of them for you to chase in the garden."
"Flock of butterflies!" Lyra cheered, bouncing on the bench and stomping her feet to test the spring. "Go carnival now!"
"Alright, alright, to the carnival we go," Helio smiled, slipping his own light coat on before hoisting Lyra onto his hip.