The morning began with the unmistakable sound of someone trying very hard to be silent.
Kael was already half awake, drifting in that space between sleep and the soft hum of the world outside their window, when the floorboard in the hall creaked. Then came the scrape of a tray, the hushed sound of voices.
"Careful," Rys whispered.
"I know how to carry a tray," Kael's father replied.
"You're tilting it!"
Kael smiled faintly in the dim light. They closed their eyes again just in time to hear the soft knock on the door before it opened.
The smell reached them first: warm bread, butter touched with honey, and tea still steaming in the chill of the early day.
Rys appeared in the doorway, awkwardly balancing a tray in both hands, Kael's father right behind him, grinning as if he'd been caught with a secret.
"You two know you're terrible at sneaking, right?" Kael asked, voice still rough from sleep.
Rys's mouth opened and closed once, twice. "We… uh… were trying to surprise you."
Kael pushed themself up against the pillows, hair tousled, a half-smile forming despite the interruption. "Breakfast in bed?"
Their father leaned against the doorframe with obvious pride. "You deserve at least one morning where you don't have to do everything yourself. It's not every day you turn nineteen."
Rys approached carefully and set the tray across Kael's lap. Bread, fruit slices, a wedge of cheese, and a cup of tea—simple, but the kind of meal made with care rather than convenience.
"You planned this?" Kael asked, looking up at Rys.
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "Sort of. I asked your father to help. I didn't trust myself not to drop everything."
"And he insisted," their father said with a laugh. "We couldn't stop him."
Kael looked between the two of them, then picked up a piece of bread. "Thank you. Both of you."
They ate slowly, the early sunlight spilling through the window in soft stripes, the house unusually quiet for once. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had been set aside.
"I still can't believe you've been here for a whole year," their father said after a while. "Feels like yesterday you came walking back into town."
Kael sipped their tea and shrugged. "I needed it. I didn't realize how much until I stayed."
Rys shifted on the edge of the bed, his voice softer than usual. "You've been running nonstop since the guild test. You earned a year at home."
Kael's lips curved faintly. "Maybe."
Something passed between them—a shared look that lingered just a little too long—before their father cleared his throat and chuckled.
"Eat before it goes cold," he said, heading toward the door. "You've got a long day ahead."
---
When the tray was finally empty, Kael placed it aside and swung their legs over the edge of the bed. They could hear the faint clatter of activity outside: someone moving tables, laughter that floated on the wind, the quiet hum of preparations.
By the time they were dressed and stepping outside, the yard had been transformed. Tables set with cloth, decorations they hadn't seen since before their mother's passing, and a few bright flowers arranged in jars.
Rys stood waiting by the doorway. "It's not much, but…" He gestured to the tables. "We wanted to make it feel like a proper birthday."
Kael blinked, the sight catching them off guard. "You did all this?"
"Your father did most of it. I just made sure it got done before you could stop us."
---
The rest of the morning passed quietly, the three of them making sure everything was ready. For now, it was still just them; the guests would start arriving after midday.
As Kael stood looking at the tables, Rys brushed close, lowering his voice so only they could hear.
"You okay with all this?"
Kael nodded slowly. "Yeah. It feels… good."
"Good," he said, and for a moment the only thing Kael could see was the sunlight catching in his hair.
---
By the time the sun was high, Kael's father had retreated into the house to bring out the last of the food, leaving the yard quiet again.
Rys glanced toward the gate. "Ready?"
Kael took a steadying breath. "Ready."
The first knock sounded soon after.
And with that, the party began.
---
The first to arrive was Sef.
The tall, sharp-eyed adventurer strode in with her usual quiet confidence, a small wrapped box tucked under one arm. She glanced at Kael once, then at Rys, and her lips curled in a sly grin.
"You clean up well," she said, holding out the box. "Don't drop it."
Kael took the box and arched a brow. "Should I be worried about what's inside?"
"Yes," she said without missing a beat, before her grin widened. "It won't bite. Probably."
She brushed past Rys, muttering something under her breath that made him roll his eyes, and took up a spot near the far table like she'd already claimed it.
---
The next arrival was Mirek.
He looked strange out of his usual healer's traveling cloak, his hair neatly combed back, hands empty except for a small cloth bundle tied with a careful knot. His smile softened when he saw Kael.
"You didn't tell me you were throwing a party," he said, eyes flicking to Rys. "I thought you'd keep it small."
"This is small," Kael replied, gesturing at the single row of tables.
Mirek's chuckle was low, warm. "Fair enough. It's good to see you," he said, pulling Kael into a brief embrace before handing over the bundle. "A thank you. And a birthday gift. Both."
Rys greeted him with a nod, and Mirek gave him a measured glance before turning to set his bundle down among the other presents starting to gather on one of the tables.
---
Soon after came Alren, with their usual restless energy.
They moved like a person who didn't like to stand still, eyes scanning the space as they entered.
"It's been a while," Alren said, clasping Kael's forearm in greeting. "Looks like you've been busy."
"Home can be busier than the road," Kael said.
Alren laughed, sharp and short. "Don't let it keep you soft."
"Don't worry," Rys said dryly from behind Kael. "That's not going to happen."
---
Rella and Thorne arrived together, Rella's tawny beastfolk ears twitching as she spotted Kael.
"Finally found a reason to come visit you," Rella teased, sweeping Kael into a hug before Thorne gave a small, easy nod of greeting.
Kael smiled faintly at the pair. "Good to see you both."
"It's good to see you not covered in mud or blood for a change," Rella replied, earning a laugh from Kael and a grunt from Thorne that might have been agreement.
---
Derrin came later, his clothes cleaner than Kael remembered, though his hands still bore faint stains from smithing work.
"I almost didn't make it," he said, a little out of breath as he came through the gate. "Had to close up early."
Kael clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you did."
Lyessa, the fae scout, slipped in shortly after him, quiet but not shy, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I wanted to see if the rumors were true," she said with a glance around the yard. "You actually stayed in one place for more than a season."
"For a whole year," Kael admitted.
Her eyebrows rose. "Impressive."
---
By the time everyone had arrived, the tables were full. Not with food alone—though there was plenty of that—but with a rare kind of comfort.
This wasn't a loud celebration, not like the festivals that filled city squares. This was quieter. Personal. A gathering of the few who'd walked roads with Kael, fought beside them, and then returned, for this one day, to stand in one place.
Kael sat between Rys and Sef, watching it unfold.
Conversations crossed over each other, laughter rose and settled, and every so often someone would raise a cup and speak a short toast before drinking.
---
Midway through, Mirek caught Kael's attention from across the table.
"You've grown," he said simply. Not just in strength, the words implied, but in presence.
Kael looked away briefly, focusing on the food on their plate. "It's been a long year."
Rys's hand brushed Kael's under the table, a silent gesture of support.
---
Stories came next.
Thorne spoke about a trek through the mountains. Rella talked about how quiet towns made her restless. Lyessa shared a strange little story about a creature she'd spotted in the forest, one none of them had ever heard of before.
And when the stories turned to Kael, it wasn't boasting or exaggerated tales. It was small things: the calm way Kael planned during a crisis, the way they always carried their share without complaint, the way their presence made a road feel safer.
Kael sat listening, unsure how to respond, so they didn't, letting the stories carry on without interruption.
---
When the last plate was cleared and the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, Rys leaned closer.
"You ready for the next part?"
Kael tilted their head. "Next part?"
Rys smiled, a little conspiratorial. "You'll see."
---
As the guests rose and began drifting toward the house to gather up their things or stretch their legs, Rys stood and took Kael's hand.
"Come on," he said. "There's something I want to show you before the evening's over."
Kael glanced back once, seeing their father smiling faintly as he pretended to busy himself with stacking plates, then let Rys lead them away from the tables, away from the chatter, toward a quieter corner of the yard where the lanterns were just beginning to glow.
---
The evening air had cooled into a gentle breeze by the time the last guest left. A few lanterns still flickered in the trees, and the soft echo of music lingered in the backyard like a pleasant ghost. Kael stood by the garden fence, arms folded loosely, watching the fireflies rise in the distance.
Rys stepped up behind them, silently offering a steaming cup of tea. "One last birthday surprise," he said. "Mint and elderflower. Supposed to help you sleep."
Kael smiled, taking the mug and inhaling the warmth. "You spoil me."
"I like the job," Rys replied, leaning against the fence beside them.
They drank in silence for a few moments, listening to the gentle rustling of the trees and the distant hoot of an owl. The air between them felt heavier now—but not with tension. With comfort. Familiarity.
"I had something else planned," Rys said after a moment, nudging his shoulder lightly against Kael's. "If you're not too tired."
Kael turned to look at him. "What kind of something?"
Rys grinned. "Come on."
He led Kael down the old side path that wrapped around the back of the house. They passed the garden shed and the wooden bench Kael's father had carved years ago. Eventually, they came upon a quiet corner of the yard where a blanket had been laid out beneath a wide-limbed tree. A few small lanterns floated lazily in the air above it, casting a soft glow.
Kael's eyes softened. "You did all this?"
Rys shrugged. "It's nothing fancy. Just thought we could use something... quieter. Just the two of us."
Kael sat on the blanket, setting the mug down beside them, and Rys joined them a heartbeat later. For a while, they just lay there, side by side, watching the stars begin to wink into existence one by one.
Kael broke the silence first. "You know, I never thought birthdays could feel like this again."
Rys turned to them. "Like what?"
"Whole," they said. "Like the ache isn't winning anymore."
Rys reached over and took their hand, fingers curling between Kael's. "I think the ache will always be there. But that doesn't mean you can't feel joy too."
Kael squeezed his hand in return. "I know. It just... feels different this time. Like I'm really allowing myself to be happy."
"You should," Rys said. "You deserve this. All of this."
Kael turned their head, catching the look in Rys's eyes—a look so full of admiration and warmth that it made their heart skip.
Without a word, they leaned in, brushing their lips gently against his. It was a soft, easy kiss—not desperate, not searching—just two people breathing each other in.
When they pulled apart, Rys chuckled under his breath. "Still my favorite kind of birthday present."
Kael laughed, leaning their head against his shoulder. "You're impossible."
"I know," he said, resting his cheek against the top of their head. "But I'm yours."
They sat like that for a while, watching the stars scatter across the sky like bits of broken moonlight. Kael's hand remained in his, warm and grounded. For all the uncertainty about the future, about soulmates and curses and whatever might come next—this moment was theirs.
Eventually, Kael whispered, "Thank you... for today. For making it feel like home again."
Rys kissed their hair. "Thank you for letting me be part of it."
A few minutes later, Kael let out a soft yawn and sat up. "We should head back before the candles start floating into the trees."
Rys laughed. "Agreed. I like my eyebrows un-singed."
They stood, Kael brushing stray grass from their clothes, and Rys gathered the empty mugs. As they walked back toward the house, their fingers found each other's again, intertwining easily.
Kael's father was sitting in his favorite chair by the hearth when they returned, nursing a mug of tea. He looked up and smiled.
"Had a good walk?" he asked casually.
Kael nodded. "Perfect end to a good day."
Rys glanced at the man with a nod of respect. "Thank you, again, for everything."
Kael's father gave a small wave of dismissal. "It's Kael's birthday. There was never a question."
Kael leaned down and gave him a warm hug. "Still. I'm grateful."
"You better be," he said gruffly, but there was nothing harsh in his tone.
---
Later that night, as Kael got ready for bed, they looked into the mirror, brushing out their hair. There was a light in their eyes—faint but steady. A reflection of something that had felt distant for too long.
They didn't know what the next year would bring.
But for tonight, that uncertainty could wait.