6

The weeks following Julian’s sixth birthday blurred into months, marked by the relentless grip of winter. Snow fell in thick, swirling blankets, isolating the farm and transforming the landscape into a pristine, white expanse. Aerith continued her work in the barn, the rhythmic clang of metal a constant presence, while Kuina, increasingly confined to the farmhouse by her pregnancy, spent her days tending to the household and guiding Julian’s early education. Julian, restless and cooped up, found solace in his toys and in the stories his mother shared, tales of brave adventurers and powerful mages. He continued to practice mimicking his father’s wind magic, though his attempts remained clumsy and unpredictable, often resulting in nothing more than a gentle breeze. The absence of Lael weighed heavily on the household, a quiet undercurrent of worry that permeated every interaction. As the months passed, Kuina’s belly grew fruitfully to term and then surpassed even her due date by a solid week extra.

The late hours of dusk descended, casting long, dancing shadows across the farmhouse walls. A low groan escaped Kuina’s lips, followed by a sharp intake of breath. The labor had begun. Aerith, ever the pragmatist, immediately sprang into action, her movements efficient and calm as she prepared the birthing room. Soft lamplight illuminated the scene, casting a warm glow on Kuina’s face, etched with a mixture of pain and determination. Julian, roused from his sleep by the commotion, stood frozen in the doorway, his small form dwarfed by the gravity of the moment. Aerith gave him a firm, yet gentle look.

"Stay back, little one. This is a task for women."

She then returned her attention to her sister, offering a reassuring hand and guiding her through the first waves of contractions. The farmhouse, usually filled with a quiet tranquility was replaced by Kuina's low heavy breathing and muffled pillow groans as the labor took it's slow and steady march painfully.

Hours crawled by, each marked by a surge of pain and a whispered encouragement from Aerith. The storm outside mirrored the turmoil within the farmhouse, the wind howling like a mournful spirit. Julian remained in the doorway, his small hands clenched into fists, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t dared to breathe too loudly, wanting to be near his mother but understanding, on some instinctive level, that he was not to interfere.

“M-Momma…”

Julian’s hesitant whisper cut through the tense silence, barely audible above the howling wind. He was shaking, his small frame trembling with a mixture of fear and empathy. The sight of his mother in pain, the raw, primal nature of childbirth, was overwhelming, even for a mind that held the memories of a grown man. He had never witnessed such a thing in his past life, had lived a life sheltered from the harsh realities of creation. Now, **** to confront it, he felt a surge of helplessness, a **** need to offer comfort but lacking the means to do so. Kuina, despite her pain, managed a weak smile in his direction.

"I'm alright, little one..."

She rasped, her voice strained.

"Just… a little uncomfortable."

Aerith glanced at Julian, her expression softening slightly.

Julian, emboldened by his mother’s weak smile, awkwardly moved to her side, his small legs carrying him with hesitant steps. He leaned into her touch, seeking the familiar comfort of her hand caressing his face. The simple gesture was profoundly reassuring, a small anchor in the storm of his emotions. Kuina’s hand, despite its trembling, was warm and gentle, offering a silent promise of protection and love. Her touch grounded him, reminding him of the unwavering bond they shared. Aerith continued to assist, her focus unwavering, but she allowed the moment, this small connection between mother and son, to unfold. A low groan escaped Kuina’s lips as another contraction began to build, but this time, Julian didn’t flinch. He held his mother’s hand, his small fingers intertwining with hers, offering his silent support.

Exhaustion finally claimed Julian, the emotional and physical strain of the night proving too much for his small body. He somehow managed to drift off to sleep at his mother’s side, his head resting against her arm, his small hand still clasped tightly in hers. Aerith, observing his peaceful slumber, carefully plucked him up, her movements gentle and practiced. She carried him back to his bedroom, tucking him securely into his bed, ensuring he was warm and comfortable. With a final, lingering glance at her sleeping nephew, she returned to Kuina’s side, her face a mask of focused determination. The labor continued, relentless and demanding, but Aerith remained steadfast, guiding her sister through each surge of pain, whispering words of encouragement and strength. The storm outside raged on, mirroring the intensity of the labor in progress.

A guttural cry tore from Kuina’s lips, her body arching with a monumental effort.

"Push, Kuina, push!"

Aerith commanded, her voice firm and encouraging. Kuina strained with every fiber of her being, her face contorted with pain, her knuckles white as she gripped the bedsheets. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, and her breathing came in ragged gasps. The room fell silent save for Kuina’s strained grunts and Aerith’s steady guidance. A moment stretched into an eternity, filled with intense exertion and unwavering determination.

A collective intake of breath filled the room as, with another, agonizing push, a head slowly began to bulge, then crown. A wave of relief washed over Aerith’s face, mingled with a renewed sense of urgency.

“Just a little more, Kuina! You’re doing wonderfully!”

She urged, wiping Kuina's brow with a damp cloth. Kuina, fueled by adrenaline and sheer willpower, summoned one last surge of strength, her body trembling with the effort. The baby's head began to crown, just barely peeking out.

With an pagonizing push, the head emerged fully, slick with fluid and momentarily purpled from the strain. A collective sigh of relief escaped both women. Aerith quickly assessed the baby’s position, gently guiding its head as she checked around its neck for the umbilical cord just in case.

“Good, good… one shoulder, now the other.”

Kuina, momentarily exhausted, gasped for breath, her body limp against the pillows. The room was thick with anticipation, the only sounds the rhythmic rise and fall of Kuina’s chest and Aerith’s calm, measured instructions.

Another surge of effort from Kuina, and the shoulders slipped free, followed swiftly by the rest of the baby’s body. A cry, weak at first, then growing in strength, filled the room. Aerith carefully lifted the newborn, a healthy baby boy, and placed him gently on Kuina’s chest. Kuina’s eyes fluttered open, and a radiant smile spread across her face as she gazed down at her new son. Relief washed over her, erasing the pain and exhaustion in an instant. The baby, covered in vernix and still slick with fluid, instinctively nuzzled against his mother’s warmth, seeking comfort and nourishment. Aerith, after ensuring both mother and baby were stable, cleaned the newborn and wrapped him in a soft blanket.

“Another strong son for you, Kuina.”

She said, her voice filled with warmth.

“A brother for young Julian..."

Despite the joyous arrival of the first baby, Aerith’s professional instincts remained sharp. Her brows knit together with a furrow of concern as she gently palpated Kuina’s belly, her experienced hands moving with practiced precision. A flicker of disbelief crossed her face, quickly replaced by a focused determination. She then carefully checked between Kuina’s thighs, her eyes widening in shock. Another head was crowning.

“Kuina.”

She said, her voice tight with urgency,

“There’s another one. Twins. Undiagnosed.”

Kuina’s eyes widened in surprise and a fresh wave of pain washed over her.

“Another…”

She gasped breathily, her voice laced with exhaustion and disbelief. Aerith didn’t have time to explain, she was already preparing for another delivery.

“Push again on the next contraction alright? We'll get them out safe and sound, trust your body."

Aerith said soothingly, giving her sister's knee a light squeeze.

Kuina, despite the shock and exhaustion, nodded weakly, her body already responding to the building pressure. A fresh wave of pain washed over her, even more intense than before, as the second baby began its descent. Aerith worked swiftly and efficiently, guiding Kuina through each contraction, her voice calm and reassuring despite the urgency of the situation.

"Push, Kuina, push! You're doing so well."

She urged, her hands providing support and encouragement.

With a monumental effort, Kuina pushed, and the second baby’s head emerged, followed swiftly by the shoulders and the rest of its body. A second, even more vigorous cry filled the room, joining the first in a chorus of newborn life. Aerith quickly assessed the second baby, a healthy baby girl, and placed her alongside her brother on Kuina’s chest. Kuina, utterly drained but radiating joy, gazed down at her two newborns, tears streaming down her face.

“Two… two beautiful babes...”

She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Aerith carefully cleaned and wrapped both babies further, noting a striking similarity between them and their father. Both newborns possessed vibrant scarlet tufts of hair, a clear inheritance from Lael. The fiery hue stood out against their delicate skin, a bold declaration of their lineage.

“Just like their father.”

Aerith remarked with a smile, handing the girl to Kuina.

“A pair of little firebrands.”

Kuina chuckled weakly, her arms full with her two children.

"Lael will be thrilled..."

She murmured, her gaze tender as she looked from one baby to the other. The storm outside had begun to subside, as if mirroring the peaceful calm that had finally settled within the farmhouse.

~

The farmhouse was filled with a quiet contentment in the days following the twins’ birth. Kuina, though exhausted, basked in the glow of motherhood, spending every moment cradling and nurturing her new children. It took a couple of days of gentle contemplation, of observing their tiny personalities, but finally, Kuina announced their names.

“Soyer.”

She said, her voice soft as she gazed at her son.

“For his fiery spirit, like the wind.”

And then, turning to her daughter.

“And Sage, for her quiet wisdom, like the ancient trees.”

Julian, though still young, seemed to understand the significance of the moment, watching his mother with a curious and affectionate gaze. The names felt right, a perfect fit for the two new additions to the Wolflace family.

A small smile touched Julian’s lips as he observed his new siblings. He didn't mind being a big brother at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. It was a vastly different experience compared to when *he* had been the baby. He dimly recalled, through the haze of his past life and fragmented infant memories, Eira’s initial resentment towards him. For the first two years of his life, she had treated him with barely concealed disdain, a tiny fairy radiating annoyance at his very existence. He remembered her frustrated attempts to ignore him, the occasional pointed glare, and the distinct lack of affection. This time, though, things felt different. He felt a protective instinct towards Soyer and Sage, a gentle fondness that hadn’t been present with Eira initially.

The arrival of Soyer and Sage brought an unexpected, but welcome, shift in the household dynamic. Kuina, understandably, was utterly consumed with caring for the twins. While she still loved Julian dearly, her attention was now understandably divided. This presented Julian with an opportunity he hadn’t anticipated - a chance to finally escape his mother’s constant, sometimes suffocating, doting. He’d always felt a bit… constrained, treated like a fragile doll rather than a growing boy. Now, with Kuina preoccupied, he could begin to forge his own path, to embrace a sense of independence. He puffed out his chest slightly, a determined glint in his eyes. He would become a proper ‘man,’ or at least, as proper as a six-year-old could be. This newfound freedom felt exhilarating, a taste of the life he instinctively knew he was meant to lead - if not for the foreshadowing of his aunt...

“C’mere kid, you’ll be learning the smithing trade as my apprentice from now on.”

Aerith had declared with a decisive clap of her hands, before promptly dragging Julian off towards the barn. He hadn't even had time to protest, his small legs scrambling to keep up with her long strides. The barn, usually filled with the scent of hay and livestock, now held the distinct aroma of coal, metal, and heat. Aerith had already set up a small workstation for him, complete with a miniature anvil, a set of child-sized hammers, and a pile of soft metal scraps.

“First things first.”

She said, her voice firm but not unkind,

“You need to learn to respect the forge. It's a powerful thing, and demands attention. No daydreaming, understand?”

She handed him a pair of thick leather gloves and a small heat resistant apron she'd crafted just for him.

“Yes ma’am.”

Julian muttered, accepting the gloves and apron with a surprisingly solemn nod. He slipped them on, the leather feeling rough against his skin. He wasn’t entirely thrilled about becoming a blacksmith’s apprentice – he’d envisioned perhaps exploring the woods, or even trying to replicate his father’s wind magic – but Aerith’s determination was not to be trifled with. Besides, there was something undeniably fascinating about the glowing forge and the potential to 'create' things with his own hands. He watched intently as Aerith demonstrated the basic hammering technique, the rhythmic clang of metal echoing through the barn.

“Watch closely.”

She instructed, her blue eyes focused on her work.

“It's not just about brute ****, it’s about control, precision…and listening to the metal.”

Aerith, with each strike of her hammer came sparks of molten metal. Warping the metal scraps into a fine powder of heat. Aerith took a metal pipe, folding it in with the powder and metal spheres. She placed it back on the anvil to unleash another fury of strikes before creating a higher quality steel ingot. It was just her and her nephew with the blazing heat and echoing clink of tools.

The forge heat was oppressive, radiating against Julian’s skin even through the protective apron. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he struggled to mimic Aerith’s movements, his small hands aching with the effort. He glanced towards the barn door, imagining Eira at the Academy of Ad Laera, surrounded by books and magical energies. A pang of envy struck him. She was likely learning fascinating spells, delving into arcane mysteries, while he was stuck in a sweltering barn, hammering away at scraps of metal.

“Focus.”

Aerith murmured again, her voice firm and laced with a hint of exasperation. She eyed Julian’s hammer work critically, her brow furrowed. He’d been distracted, his swing wild and imprecise, nearly sending a shower of metal shards flying back towards himself. She quickly stepped forward, steadying his hand and guiding his swing.

“You’re thinking too much, Julian. Forget about your sister and her fancy academy. Feel the metal. Let it guide you. Each strike needs to be deliberate, controlled.”

She demonstrated again, the hammer falling with a satisfying thud, shaping the metal with effortless grace.

“Like this. Now, you try again. And focus.”

Julian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ignore the lingering thoughts of Eira and the academy. He took a deep breath, attempting to center himself, to truly 'feel' the metal beneath the hammer. He remembered Aerith’s words – 'listen to the metal' – and tried to tune out the roaring of the forge, the pounding of his own heart, and the ache in his muscles. He raised the hammer again, focusing all his energy on the point of impact...

~

Three weeks melted away in a haze of heat, sweat, and the relentless clang of metal. Julian’s hands were calloused, his arms ached constantly, and his initial resentment had slowly given way to a grudging respect for the smithing trade. He was still far from proficient, but he could now shape metal with a degree of control, forging simple tools and trinkets under Aerith’s watchful eye. Then, just as spring began to truly break, painting the fields in vibrant hues of green and gold, a familiar figure appeared on the horizon. Lael had finally returned home. He rode towards the farmhouse, his weathered face etched with a tired but happy smile, his gaze sweeping over the blossoming landscape and the familiar sight of the Wolflace farm. He dismounted, stretching his stiff limbs, and headed towards the barn, the scent of the forge guiding his way.

“Well look what the cat dragged in after five months of leaving your pregnant wife and kid son all alone.”

Aerith greeted her brother-in-law with a narrowed stare and a dry tone. She crossed her arms, her expression a mixture of relief and exasperation. She knew it wasn’t entirely his fault – the journey to the Academy of Ad Laera and back was long and fraught with potential dangers – but she couldn’t resist pointing out the obviousness in his lack of haste. Lael’s smile faltered slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing his features.

“Now, Aerith, it wasn’t quite like that…”

He began, but trailed off under her unwavering ice blue gaze. He ran a hand through his scarlet hair, sighing.

"It took longer than expected. Bandits, snowstorms… the usual."

He glanced past Aerith, his eyes landing on Julian but only briefly.

"And Kuina... how is she?"

“She’s… managing.”

Aerith replied, her tone softening slightly.

“The labor had been quite difficult, as to be expected. She’s mostly confined to the house now, resting.”

She gestured towards the farmhouse with a nod.

“The twins are proving to be…spirited.”

A small smile played on her lips, despite her earlier reprimand.

"T-Twins? She gave birth to twins!"

Lael stammered in shock. The shock gradually fading away to joy as a broad grin warped across his lips and he took off out of the barn, making haste to the house to meet his new children and his recuperating wife.

Lael practically sprinted towards the farmhouse, his long legs eating up the distance. He burst through the front door, calling out Kuina’s name, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and excitement. A soft cry of an infant answered him, and he followed the sound to the main bedroom, where Kuina lay nestled amongst pillows, looking pale but radiant. Two tiny bundles were cradled in her arms nursing contentedly – a boy and a girl, their faces scrunched in sleep. Lael’s eyes welled up with tears as he approached the bed, his gaze sweeping over his wife and children.

“These are your children… Soyer and Sage…”

Kuina smiled gently at her husband, her voice soft and laced with exhaustion from many sleepless nights. She shifted slightly, adjusting the infants in her arms to give Lael a better view. Both babes had his scarlet hair and their eyes were closed. If they were open, he would've been able to see that Soyer had his mother's ice blue eyes, whilst Sage had greens that mirrored both his own and Julian's.

Lael was indeed speechless, completely lost in awe at the beautiful sight of his new offspring. Carefully, he positioned himself close to Kuina, leaning in to view Soyer and Sage with a reverence bordering on worship. His hands, though calloused and rough from years of adventuring, were surprisingly gentle as he offered to pick the pair up.

“Easy now...”

Kuina cautioned softly, her hand resting on his arm.

“They’re still quite small.”

She carefully shifted Soyer into Lael’s arms, then Sage followed. He held them with a mixture of awe and trepidation, cradling them close to his chest as if afraid they might break. Lael held Soyer and Sage close, his gaze softening as he looked down at their tiny faces. He spoke to them in a low, rumbling voice, filled with a tenderness that few had ever witnessed.

“Soyer and Sage Wolflace… it’s… it’s perfect...”

Lael whispered warmly under his breath, his voice thick with emotion. He brushed a gentle hand across Soyer’s downy red hair, then repeated the gesture with Sage.

“You two little ones… you’ve completed our family.”

He glanced up at Kuina, his green eyes brimming with love and gratitude.

“I missed so much, my love. I’m so sorry.”

He looked back down at the twins, a fierce protectiveness rising within him.

“But I’m here now. And I promise to always be here for all of you.”

A beat of silence passed, before he added, almost to himself.

“Though I’m still getting used to the idea of two more little adventurers running around...”