Time slipped through his fingers faster than expected.
A few days before the eve, after a chaotic morning of suitcases forced shut and passports checked three times, John and Sarah finally got into the taxi heading to the airport.
The farewell was a mix of excitement for their vacation and typical parental anxiety. Before closing the door, Sarah looked at him sternly.
"You're in charge, Lief. You have to take good care of your sisters, especially Emma and Esther..."
He nodded with a reassuring smile and watched them leave.
Christmas morning arrived with pale winter light filtering through the curtains.
He didn't get up immediately; he took a moment to send holiday messages before accepting that the day would be long.
At noon, he took the family car keys and drove to Carrie's house.
She was waiting for him at the entrance, wrapped in a white padded jacket and a red scarf that contrasted with her cheeks, rosy from the freezing wind.
Upon seeing the car, her face lit up with a genuine smile and she ran toward him.
"Thanks for coming to get me," she said as she got in, rubbing her hands to warm up, "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Are you kidding?" He laughed, helping her settle her bag in the back seat, "You are the cavalry. Believe me, you're saving my life. Let's go, the zoo at home is waiting for you."
Carrie's arrival was like opening a window to let in fresh air.
Her kind energy balanced the strange dynamic of the household.
She managed to navigate with grace between Emma's intellectual coldness, laughed at the sarcastic comments Esther murmured under her breath, and even handled Lillith with admirable patience, even though the little "girl" sometimes looked at her with eyes that were too strange.
Seeing them all together in the living room, watching Christmas specials and sharing hot chocolate in a superficial but functional harmony, allowed him to relax.
However, the clock didn't stop.
Night fell over the town, and the neighborhood lit up with blinking red and green lights. While the outside world celebrated, he retreated to his room and locked the door.
He took a deep breath, letting his relaxed expression fade to give way to concentration.
He opened the closet and there, hanging and waiting, was the blue trench coat he had won in the draw.
Putting it on, he was surprised by how well it fit; it didn't look like a costume.
The long cut and retro style stylized his figure, giving him a more intimidating presence.
He approached the mirror and running his hand through his hair, it obeyed instantly, slicking back into a clean and sharp style.
"Vain, but attractive..." he murmured, approving the change.
Then, he summoned his most reliable companions.
Ebony and Ivory materialized in his hands with a comforting weight and with agile movements, he slid the pistols into the holsters hidden at the sides of his waist, concealed by the trench coat.
The grips sat at the perfect angle for a quick draw.
Finally, it was the main blade's turn.
With a ripple in the air, the Master Sword appeared in his hand and the familiar energy of the weapon flowed through his arm.
And he didn't use a strap.
Channeling a thin layer of energy into his back and the blade.
Releasing it over his shoulder, it "adhered" to the trench coat as if there were a powerful magnet holding it in place.
Firm and ready to be released with a simple pull.
He stepped back to inspect the final result.
The man in the mirror, wrapped in the midnight blue trench coat, with a sword on his back, two hidden demonic pistols, and a sharp gaze, emanated an arrogant danger.
He was the living image of a demon hunter.
And being destiny, a phrase inevitably came to his mind.
"I need more po–"
But he quickly stopped, realizing what he had just said, and a grimace of secondhand embarrassment broke his stoic facade.
"How gross... better not to invoke bad luck–"
Knock, Knock
Some soft knocks interrupted his concentration on the mirror.
"Come in," he replied, turning while adjusting the collar of the trench coat.
The door opened, and Carrie peeked in, holding a plate in her hands.
But upon seeing his figure, she stopped dead.
Her eyes widened scanning the long trench coat, the sharp hair, and then the central part: the grips of the pistols discreetly hidden at his waist.
A slight blush blossomed on her face.
"Carrie, is something wrong?"
"Oh! No, nothing!" She forced herself back to reality, slightly lifting the steaming plate, "I just... just took an apple pie out of the oven and wanted to see if you wanted to try a piece."
On the plate, a piece of golden pie was still steaming.
"You don't even have to ask," said Lief smiling while he approached and took the plate from her hands, "It smells incredible."
He snagged a small piece with the fork and tasted it.
The contrast of the warm apple and the intense flavor of the cinnamon exploded on his palate.
It was sweet, but with a spicy touch that perfectly balanced the crunchy texture of the crust.
"Really, you have a talent I wish I had."
Carrie blushed at the praise, lowering her head, "I'm glad you like it..."
They left the room together, heading to the kitchen.
By the dining table, the other three were already seated, each one concentrated on a plate with portions of the same pie. However, as soon as they saw the man cross the threshold with the full outfit, their movements froze.
The air grew thick with the three disparate reactions.
Lillith, who still had a spoonful of pie halfway to her mouth, felt a physical repulsion.
The trench coat and the pistols meant nothing, but the thing on his back emanated a sacredness that made her want to run away.
She shrank immediately in her seat, 'What is happening...!? Is this my last supper!?'
Emma stopped the spoon in the air, observing him analytically from top to bottom.
Esther had the most discreet reaction; she barely looked up from her pie and continued eating.
Ignoring the sudden tense silence, Lief headed to the table naturally.
"It really is delicious," he repeated, looking at Carrie. "I'm so glad I called you to come over."
"Really?" Upon receiving that second sincere praise, the tension left Carrie and a smile of happiness blossomed on her face, making her forget, for a moment, about the sword and the pistols.
________
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