The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 114 - Muse & Amuse, From Coast To Cradle!

Chapter 114: Chapter 114 - Muse & Amuse, From Coast To Cradle!

With the continued, unnatural quiet all around him due to his master’s awesome control of energies, he had been able to focus entirely on the sound of her voice and the meaning of the words. None of the distracting sound of surf had bothered him - only his own thoughts did that.

"Thank you... Elua. I think I have much to consider first."

The brunette waved her hand to express that it was not such a big deal. Then she turned as if prepared to walk away and delivered a parting line.

"Your Projection quality is improving nicely. Just be mindful of focusing *too* much on replicating the things you love. Even if you find her to be a subject that ’truly captivates you’... as Zyris said."

A bright blush flushed his cheeks as he hurried away. The noise of the coastline struck him as the layer of pressurized air dispersed. She let the illusions she was displaying about his activities carefully meld with the reality of his new location as she stepped towards the staircase - honestly, this time.

She was ready to go home.

As Fusand sat down thinking with his back on the cliff, his eyes found a set of green ones staring at him. She waved from afar before looking away and using a container to scoop up some of the sea. Her master had told her secretly, through some trick of Air, that she could practice with it if she wanted on the train-ride back... which she took entirely too much like an *order* to do so!

’Regrets and risks. Losses. Opportunities... chances... the variables make enough sense when I separate them, but I’m missing something. Maybe she’s right? I might not be able to find out what it is unless I... talk to her.’

He shivered, somehow feeling more cornered at the thought than ever before.

---

Yatrel er Goltbred entered the nursery for her youngest daughter. Her eyes showed a little weariness from her time at the Earthen Fellowship. The closer to the Descent things became, the busier and less willing to let people take a break the Guilds became.

She immediately sought out the small form of Onya napping in her crib. The baby stirred like she knew she was being watched, her tiny limbs flailing in her sleep. A smile that showed the ’healing’ happening displayed on the mother’s lips as she watched her youngest daughter’s animated slumber.

’So different from Elua...’

The Dame Goltbred mused on the past... remembering how almost unnaturally still her firstborn had been as an infant. There was a time that it had worried the woman, but her first child grew more active and emotive by the time she started walking. Onya let out a familiar whimper, which caused Yatrel to move closer in anticipation of her daughter’s need.

Sure enough, brown eyes just like her father’s fluttered open. At first they were unfocused from the sudden waking but when they noted the shape of her food source... a mostly gummy smile spread across her face before morphing into a demanding pout and babble.

"Always so eager to be fed, aren’t you, little darling? You sisters are both alike."

Yatrel chuckled while lifting the child into her arms. She hummed a tune while settling into a nearby rocking chair and exposing her breast to feed, in a most well accustomed manner. The woman braced herself, remembering the sharp nips from previous feedings.

’The other is still sore from early this morning...’

Onya latched on too enthusiastically and the Seventh Echelon Enchanter winced at the initial discomfort. The need to draw away the physical energy from the area so that the much weaker child could make any headway on milking the source was an unfortunate reality of the world... and why many cultivator families hired mortal wetnurses.

Her mind drifted again to Elua, recalling how her eldest had fed with an almost preternatural care. Like the newborn was hyper-aware of causing pain after the first accidental bite. Comparing and contrasting the experiences between her daughters never ceased to amaze her.

The suckling child occasionally tested her growing teeth against soft flesh and broke the song Yatrel kept in her throat. She sighed and thought back to yesterday’s events instead as a way of distracting herself.

Her Elua, resplendent in that wedding dress, had been the picture of poise and grace throughout so much of it. Her choice to chop off so much of her hair had felt sudden at the time, but it was clear that her groom was affected by it in a good way.

’And then there was Qatrand’s hair.’

While she was used to seeing it so much at the estate, the Yecine heir’s appearance had obviously caused quite an annoyed stir. That blonde hair in such a public event was a stark departure from their family tradition. Yatrel frowned after recalling the expressions of the Yecine elders throughout the ceremony... and before the couple showed up.

"Stoicism must have a limit, or a rest, on a happy occasion. What are they playing at, I wonder?"

The woman whispered the question in a playful tone to Onya, who gurgled in response. The political implications of the union weighed heavily on her mind. The Yecines were an old family, steeped in tradition and ambition. The Goltbred name and affluence started its rise much more recently.

She knew what her husband had once hoped for - and that Elua was obsessed with that young swordsman. What she questioned... is what the other side truly hoped to gain from this marriage they wouldn’t even let themselves be happy over in public?

Her child squirmed in her arms, drawing Yatrel back to the present. She adjusted her hold and covered her exposed chest. The warmth and life in her youngest daughter was so different, on reflection, to the calculated demeanor Elua must have always possessed.

’Our sweet girl. I’m sorry for not noticing back then.’

A pang of emotions coursed through her spirit... ’pride’ mingled with ’sorrow’. Their heiress was married now, taking another step beyond her parental protection. She would never be entirely without it, but the mint eyed woman had always known this day would come. That her little egg would tumble out of the nest.

The reality of it left her feeling oddly bereft, even with Onya close at hand.

"Your sister’s nearly all grown up. And someday, you will be too. Though hopefully it will not feel quite so soon, next time."

The tiny body in her arms grew sleepy with a full stomach... and would not have responded with anything clever in the first place. Carefully, she placed the heavy-eyed Onya back in her crib. The mother’s hand rubbed the reddish-blonde hair that matched her own before it lingered on her daughter’s soft cheek.

"No matter what comes. I’ll be there for both of you. My auspicious whirlwind and my little river bend."

A fierce protectiveness welled up as she whispered the words with a touch of dull, unspecific anger in her throat. She could mostly trust her husband to be okay on his own in the approaching Descent, though she was letting herself get quite riled by letting her imagination run.

With one last glance at the peaceful form of her youngest, the duelist quietly exited the nursery. Uncertain futures tinged with the complexities of motherhood sat on her thoughts as she made her way to her chambers. A little much needed rest before she woke up to feed once again was in order!

---

The parts of the train still outside the station’s cover shone in the late afternoon sun as passengers hurried to board. A group of five made their way across the platform, towards a less crowded end where their tickets granted them access to a private compartment. Eventually, they settled into their seats allowing a tension to suffuse the cabin.

Nohre fidgeted with her container of seawater, occasionally glancing at the boy who seemed lost in thought. The illusionist’s spiritual sense lingered on Nohre’s hands, noting the girl continuously latching her essence onto the liquid to practice ’ignoring’ the unnecessary parts. Hints of pride crossed her face on occasion, soon replaced by her mixed feelings.

Fusand didn’t attempt to use his Astralism... which for the spiritualist was as good as betraying his inner turmoil. However, he did chew on a snack while quietly using the efficient conversion techniques that the Goltbred had taught him on all the lunch from earlier. He wasn’t sure if he would become an Enchanter in both his missing fields soon enough to make use of the time before the Descent.

The scheming cultivator was impressed at how quickly they were progressing under her tutelage, even as she plotted how to use their growth to Qat’s advantage somehow. Before that... there was still the advantage of the Talcres connection to consider - and it could be enough on its own. The brunette stared out the windows when she decided to speak.

"So, do you have thoughts one way or the other about their offer?"

Nohre and Fusand exchanged quick glances before looking away. Their discomfort was evident - and the adults gauging their reaction closely felt a bit of reluctance to give in. Yet... the young new bride could tell they would, if things were left as they were.

"Of course, your jobs with me are still secure, even if you need some time off to learn from the Talcres. I’m sure I will also be busy running up to the competition, so you should have days free. Well, what I’m saying is do not think our prior ’work’ arrangements change just because of this opportunity."

The landscape outside the window rushed by and the Goltbred girl leaned back in her seat. She shut her eyes with ’satisfaction’ settling over her. With the refreshed words of obvious approval, she could feel the pair of orphans grow more ’resolute’.

’Life can be long, but it’s these quick, passing moments of making possibilities collapse down toward certainty that make it truly interesting.’