"Ma-na," Grim said, pointing at the glowing crystal in Marcus's hand.
"Very good!" Marcus praised, looking way too impressed for such a simple word.
"These people are so easy to fool," Grim thought. At sixteen months old, he was now expected to form his first words, so he decided to give the adults what they wanted to hear.
[You're adapting well to your limitations,] the voice in his head commented.
"Not like I have a fucking choice," Grim thought back.
"Outstanding." Marcus said to Rowan as they packed their stuff into the carriage. "Most children his age can barely say mommy or daddy.'"
"He doesn't say daddy,'" Rowan replied flatly. "He's never tried."
Grim pretended not to notice the hurt in his father's voice. Their relationship was still complicated. Rowan took care of him and had even begun showing pride in his abilities—but there was always that wall between them. The unspoken message: You lived while she died.
"Wa-ter," Grim said, pointing at his cup, playing the role of the smart toddler.
It had been eight months since he'd formed his first mana heart, which had moved up their plans to return to the capital. Now, they were finally leaving the crappy little manor that had been Grim's entire world in this life.
"Just thinking about fate," Grim thought as Sera lifted him into the carriage. "I must have been born into this family for a reason. To prove myself worthy, to restore their honor."
[An ambitious goal for one so young.]
"And the light affinity must have been the god's gift to help me achieve it."
[That was not the gift the god gave you,] the voice replied.
"What? Then what was it?" Grim demanded silently.
But the voice went quiet, as it often did when he asked direct questions about his situation.
"Fine, be mysterious," Grim thought irritably. "At least tell me more about where we're going."
[The Imperial Capital of Celestis is the heart of the Celes Empire,] the voice explained. [Home to the Emperor, the Grand Cathedral of Light, and the Mage College. More than a million people live there.]
"Will we ever return?" Sera asked.
"If things go badly at court? Probably sooner than we'd like," Rowan answered grimly. "If things go well? Then no. There's nothing for us here but bad memories."
Marcus rode beside the carriage on a big chestnut horse. Two Imperial Guards—sent by the Emperor himself—rode ahead and behind, their armor shining in the sun.
As they passed through the nearby village, people stopped to stare. Some bowed to the imperial guards. Others spat when they saw the van Ambrose crest on the carriage door.
"They still blame us for the mine collapse," Rowan muttered, noticing Grim watching the villagers. "Three hundred dead, and my father couldn't pay proper compensation after the imperial fines."
"People remember bad things longer than good ones," Sera said softly. "They forget it was your grandfather who built their school and your mother who healed their sick during the fever times."
Grim stored this information away. Knowing his family's full history would be important for whatever waited for them in the capital.
The journey would take two weeks, Marcus had said. First through rolling hills, then across the great River Lumina, and finally across the Central Plains to reach Celestis.
By the third day, Grim was completely bored with the monotonous landscape and the constant bouncing of the carriage. His body needed so much sleep. When awake, he had nothing to do but watch the scenery and listen to the chatter around him.
On the evening of the fifth day, they stopped at a large inn. A sign showing a golden stag hung above its door.
"We're in Imperial territory now," Marcus explained as servants rushed to help them. "This inn serves noble travelers. We'll rest here for a day before moving on."
The innkeeper nearly fell over himself, bowing to Marcus. "Archmage Valorian! What an honor! And Lord van Ambrose as well! We had heard rumors of your return to court, my lord, but didn't expect—"
"Less talking, more preparing rooms," Rowan cut him off. "And a hot meal. The child needs real food, not travel rations."
"Of course, of course!" The innkeeper led them to a private dining room, where servants quickly brought roasted meats, fresh bread, and fruit.
Grim was just finishing his meal—finally something other than boring porridge—when the dining room door opened. A tall, well-dressed man entered, a young girl holding his hand.
"Marcus, I thought that was your horse in the stable," the man said warmly.
"Darius!" Marcus stood, hugging the newcomer. "What brings the Emperor's Chancellor to a roadside inn?"
"Taking my daughter to visit her grandmother's estate," Darius replied, then noticed Rowan. His expression changed to cautious respect. "Lord Ambrose. It's been many years."
Rowan stood stiffly. "Chancellor Levenhart. Indeed, it has."
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut. Grim watched the chancellor carefully. So this was one of the big players at court.
"I had heard of your... return to favor," Darius said carefully. "Though I didn't expect to meet you so soon."
"The Emperor has invited us back," Marcus jumped in smoothly. "Lord Ambrose's son shows remarkable talent."
At this, Darius looked at Grim. "Ah, this must be the young prodigy I've heard whispers about." He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "My daughter is quite talented herself. Liana, come meet our fellow travelers."
The little girl stepped forward. She looked about four years old, with reddish-brown hair and serious eyes.
"What does this flat-chested bitch want?" Grim thought, annoyed at being shown off like a circus animal.
[She's four years old. Of course she's flat-chested,] the voice replied dryly.
"It was a joke," Grim thought back. "Learn to recognize sarcasm."
"Hello," the girl said, doing a perfect curtsy despite her age.
"Lianna shows exceptional skill with fire magic," Darius said proudly. "Started her training at three, and already making impressive progress. How old is your boy, Ambrose?"
"Sixteen months," Rowan replied.
Darius raised an eyebrow. "Rather young to be testing for magic, isn't it?"
"His abilities appeared naturally," Marcus said before Rowan could answer. "Quite impressively, in fact."
Something flashed in Darius's eyes—interest, worry, or both. "Really? How fascinating. Perhaps when we reach the capital, Liana could show him some basic exercises. Children often learn well from other children."
Grim watched the girl studying him with obvious curiosity.
"Li-anna," he said deliberately, testing how the adults would react.
All four adults looked surprised, but none more than Liana herself. Her serious face broke into a big smile.
"He said my name!" she exclaimed, coming closer to Grim's high chair. "Hello, little baby. What's your name?"
"Great, now I've encouraged her," Grim thought.
"Gim," he replied, purposely mispronouncing his own name like a toddler would.
"Grim," Rowan corrected automatically.
"An unusual name," Darius commented.
"A strong name," Rowan countered. "For a strong heir."
Darius nodded thoughtfully. "Well, since we're traveling the same way, perhaps we should continue together? The roads are generally safe, but more company is always welcome."
Marcus glanced at Rowan, who gave a tiny nod. "We would be honored, Chancellor," Marcus replied.
"Perfect," Grim thought sarcastically. "Just what we need—more political bullshit before we even reach the capital."