Chapter 26 - Cake

Author's Preface

Chapter 26 - Cake

--Thorskil, Two Years Ago--

"I would like a refund, Sam."

I carefully put the clean copy of “Source of Power,” which was only purchased yesterday, on the wooden counter.

The merchant raised a brow, looking between the pristine grimoire and my face. "Huh? W-why? Was the product not to your liking, Master Thorskil?"

"I, uh..." I offered a weak smile, but it fell almost instantly. I lowered my head, my eyes casting downward as the crushing weight of the last twenty-four hours settled back onto my shoulders. When I looked back up at him, my smile was gone, replaced by a hint of desperation.

"Actually... let me rephrase myself. You sell healing potions here, right?"

"Yes," Sam nodded slowly. "Though those are quite steep—easily a hundred gold a bottle."

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. "Then I would like to trade this back and take one of those instead, please."

The merchant stared at me for a long moment, looking down at the grimoire in his hands before letting out a soft, heavy sigh. "Very well... I truly apologize for the inconvenience, Master Thorskil." He gently pulled the book toward his side of the counter.

"Apologize? Why are you apologizing, Sam?"

"The new count has been... insatiable these past few years," Sam murmured, shaking his head. "His taxes are absolute murder on us small merchants. If things were different, I would’ve gladly let you keep the grimoire and just given you the potion... but I simply can't afford to, Master Thorskil."

"That is hardly your fault, Sam," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Though at this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if the people in town rise up against this new count. The way he rules this city is unsustainable."

A tense beat hung in the air before both of us let out a breathy, mirthless laugh.

"HA!" Sam chuckled, shaking his head as the tension broke. "You know what? Here is your healing potion. And because it's you, I’ll give you a ten percent discount. Ninety gold."

Relief washed over me, warm and grounding. "Woah... thank you, Sam. Truly."

Since the Source of Power had cost me a hundred gold, he slid the dark red glass vial across the wooden counter alongside ten remaining gold coins.

"The pleasure is mine, friend," Sam said gently. Then, leaning over the counter with a look of quiet concern, he added, "If you don't mind me asking... is someone back home hurt?"

My heart clenched tight. I gave a slow, somber nod. "Mhm. My son..."

I breathed in shakily as the memory of his injured form burned within me. "It would appear that both he and his sister somehow ended up in the deep forest and ran into some bandits—bandits who had planned to raid Ytval. Kyro… he was badly hurt. He cracked several ribs."

I closed my eyes for a brief second, forcing back the sudden lump in my throat.

"Luckily, Reyna and I managed to reach them before..." I cut myself off, unable to even speak the dark thought aloud. "He’s in so much pain right now, Sam. Every time he coughs, he brings up blood. It breaks my heart watching him suffer through it... That’s why I came straight back to trade the book. I need to fix my boy."

Sam’s eyes softened with deep empathy, and he nodded solemnly. "I understand. I pray your son makes a full and speedy recovery, Thorskil. May the God of the Shield watch over him."

"Amen," I whispered, holding the glass vial tightly against my chest. "Thanks again for everything, Sam." I gave him a grateful nod and turned toward the door.

"Anytime, my friend. Go take care of your boy."

***

--Thorskil, Later--

Kelsey remained at the front of the property. She was a gentle, well-mannered black mare that stood quietly while I secured her reins to a wood fence post.

The moment I pushed the heavy front door open, Lyra was standing in the entryway, waiting for me.

"Papa!" She had her hands planted stubbornly on her hips, her tiny chest puffed out as her golden eyes searched mine. "Teach me how to bake!"

I blinked, taken aback. That came out of nowhere...

I glanced toward the staircase, then looked back down at her fierce little face. Forcing a soft smile, I reached out and gently patted her head. "Later, sweetie. First, I need to give Kyro this healing potion."

"A healing potion? Why? Is he really that hurt?" She tilted her head, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "I saw him fall yesterday, but I caught his head before it hit the floor! I think he’s just really tired and needs a good nap, that’s all."

"I wish it were just a nap, sweetheart," I murmured softly. "A little sleep isn't going to fix what's wrong with him right now."

Lyra fell silent, following close at my heels as we climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to Kyro's room.

There was a heavy and stifling air about the room. Reyna was sitting in the wooden chair, her face pale, leaning over our son who was convulsing underneath the covers. The whimpers escaped from his mouth along with his gasping breaths.

"I-it hurts... ghh ... Dad, Mom... it hurts..."

Reyna’s hands were trembling as she gently wiped the sweat from his burning face. He was burning up with a terrifying fever. She wrung out a cold cloth in a washbasin beside the bed and carefully laid it across his forehead. Beneath her stoic, maternal composure, I could see the unspoken terror in her eyes—the fear of a mother who felt utterly helpless.

When the floorboards creaked beneath my boots, she snapped her head toward the doorway. "T-Thors! Did you... did you get it?"

I met her desperate gaze and gave her a steady, reassuring nod. "I got it, Rey. It's right here."

A shuddering wave of relief washed over her, and her shoulders visibly slumped. "Thank goodness..." She turned back to Kyro, softly stroking his flushed cheek. "You're going to be okay, my baby boy. Look, your dad brought you something to fix the pain."

Kyro forced his heavy eyelids open, staring up at her with unfocused, glossy eyes before letting out another weak groan. Reyna leaned down and pressed a long, lingering kiss against his feverish temple.

Behind me, I felt a sharp tug at my shirt. I looked down and saw Lyra staring wide-eyed at her little brother. Her pupils had shrunk into tiny dots, the reality of Kyro's state finally crashing over her.

"P-Papa...?" her voice quavered, barely a whisper. "What's... what's really wrong with Kyro?"

I knelt down beside her, offering a warm, gentle smile as I softly ruffled her sky-blue hair. "He's going to be just fine, Lyra. I promise."

I stood up, walked to the side of the bed, and unstoppered the small glass vial.

"Kyro," I whispered, gently slipping an arm behind his shoulders to prop him up. "Here, son. Drink this. It’s going to make the pain stop."

He leaned against my chest, his small frame trembling as I tipped the dark red liquid to his lips. He swallowed it down, his face instantly twisting in utter disgust as he coughed weakly.

"T-that's so... gagh ... it tastes awful, Dad..."

"I know, buddy. Drink every last drop," I encouraged softly.

He hesitated, squeezing his eyes shut, but bravely swallowed the rest of the potion until the vial was completely empty.

"There," I murmured, holding him close for a moment before laying his head gently back onto the pillow. "Look at that. You're so brave, Kyro." I leaned down and pressed my lips to his sweaty forehead. "Now, close your eyes and rest. The potion will start working soon, and the pain will fade away."

"O-okay..." Kyro mumbled softly.

Soon enough, as the medicine started working its calming effect in his broken body, he breathed calmly and evenly. His little chest went up and down, and sleepy snoring sounds could be heard from the silent room.

Both Reyna and I let out a long, collective breath we felt like we'd been holding for hours.

Reyna lowered her head into her hands that trembled uncontrollably, her shoulders silently quaking. "I-I was afraid we were going to lose him, Thorskil..."

Her façade of strength could no longer withstand the pain, sadness, and fear she felt. I hugged her in my embrace, holding her close to me.

"He's safe now, Rey," I breathed into her blonde bun, hugging her tightly as she cried into me. "Our boy is going to be just fine."

At the foot of the bed, Lyra stood completely frozen. She looked at us, and then turned her wide, glossy eyes back to Kyro’s sleeping face, watching the rise and fall of his chest. A little while later, Reyna stayed behind to watch over Kyro while Lyra and I quietly stepped out into the hallway.

I looked down at my daughter as we walked. Her usual energetic posture was gone; she looked solemn and deeply thoughtful.

We made our way down the stairs in silence until we reached the kitchen. She stopped near the wooden table and looked up at me, her small voice steady and surprisingly resolute.

"Papa... teach me how to bake."

I paused, looking down at her solemn face, and felt a bittersweet smile touch my lips. "Alright. Since you asked so nicely."

She swallowed hard, staring down at her own shoes. "I... I caused all of this. If I hadn't gone into the woods, Kyro wouldn't be lying up there hurting." She squeezed her small hands into tight fists. "I'm going to apologize to him the second he wakes up. But until then... I want to learn how to bake the greatest cake in the whole world! You have to teach me, Dad. I'm going to make it for Kyro... and for Saul, too!"

A warm chuckle escaped my chest, smoothing away the last lingering remnants of the day's terror.

"Alright, sweetheart," I said softly, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. "Fine, fine. Let's get the flour."

A tiny, hopeful smile finally broke through her somber face, and she gave me a determined nod.

***

--Thorskil, Present Day--

Lyra and I were hard at work in the kitchen, flour dusting the countertops as we kneaded soft dough together.

"Papa, I think we're out of flour," she said, scraping the bottom of the earthenware bowl.

I paused, wiping a forearm across my forehead before nodding. "I'll go grab another sack."

Stepping out through the back door into the warm afternoon air, I walked over to the small wooden storage shed in our backyard. The hinges groaned softly as I pushed the door open. I stepped inside, taking a moment to interlock my fingers and stretch my spine until it popped.

"Ah... all that standing is really starting to get to my back," I muttered with a soft chuckle.

I scanned the tall wooden shelves lining the walls. Sacks of seed, stored root vegetables, dried herbs, and spare farm tools cluttered the corners. After a second of searching, my eyes landed on the woven sack resting on a middle shelf.

"Ah, there you are."

I hoisted the heavy bag of flour onto my shoulder, headed back inside, and set it down on the table.

For the next hour, I stood back and watched as Lyra took total charge of the kitchen, carefully assembling her attempt at my signature carrot cake.

"DONE!" she announced triumphantly, slamming the wooden platter onto the center of the wooden dining table.

Reyna and I leaned over to inspect her creation.

"Wow, Lyra," Reyna gasped, her eyes widening. "That... actually looks surprisingly delicious!"

"And it's going to taste delicious, too!" Lyra wiped her sticky hands onto her oversized apron before crossing her arms, her chin held high with pure, unfiltered pride. "Go on, don't be shy! Take a bite!"

Reyna and I exchanged a quick glance. We smiled in unison, shrugged, and picked up a pair of forks to take a bite at the exact same time.

Our faces immediately contorted into complete horror at the touch of the cake on our tongue, for the texture of the dessert was something between being gritty yet compacted, almost like damp dirt coated in sugar. Nevertheless, by sheer force of will, we immediately controlled ourselves from gagging and resumed our friendly expression of encouragement.

"W-wow..." Reyna stuttered, desperately forcing the bite down her throat with a hard gulp. "That was... certainly... decent! Thors, dear, w-what do you think?"

I hesitantly swallowed, feeling the lump slowly slide down my esophagus like a stone. "It's... good, sweetheart! Really good. Though, you know, it could always be a tiny bit better."

"Really?!" Her golden eyes lit up like fireworks. "Yes!"

Before either of us could stop her, she snatched up the plate with the rest of the cake. "I'm going to give the rest to Kyro! I want to hear what my little brother thinks of my masterwork!"

Reyna’s and my eyes nearly bugged out of our skulls.

"L-Lyra, wait! Don't!" Reyna yelled out.

But she completely ignored us, already dashing up the wooden stairs two at a time with the deadly carrot cake balanced in her hands.

Reyna and I turned to each other, a cold sweat breaking out on our brows.

"Uh oh..."

We could hear them above. She slammed the door open.

"HEY, PIPSQUEAK!" She yelled, "TRY MY CAKE!"

"What? Lyra, what are you—?"

"I said try my cake!"

Reyna and I simply looked at the ceiling as we could hear our children's voices.

"C'monn," Lyra insisted, "Try it!"

"I doubt it's any good."