Riven and Talen had fallen into a routine over the last month. Morning would come and Nora would feed them breakfast, then the boys would spend hours on the hills just south of their house overlooking the river summoning that familiar blue light.
They had grown adept at glowing like a pair of irradiated glowsticks, but other than that there was no real change to their training.
"When do we start making progress man." Anthony said letting his glowing body dim.
"We have been this entire time, we've been able to maintain the glow for longer since the first day and we've developed fundamentals for it."
"What fundamentals? All we know is that we glow and i dont need to destroy my shin when i go to take a piss at night."
"This is why you suck at stealth games. You have to see past what's on the surface dude. Look beyond the glow and what it means."
"When did you turn into Johnny the all fucking knowing."
Johnny laughed and broke his concentration, the glow fading from his body.
"Look you fucked me up." Johnny gestured
"Basically we can manifest the basic foundation of magic, which we would consider to be mana, but by itself its useless it needs to be shaped and formed into what we desire it to be. Iron ore is just a rock till you smelt it, forge it and infuse carbon into it to get a gun. There's factors to this shit man, for all we know we need chants or wands in order to harness it properly." Johnny explained.
"We don't have wands or a book of chants for magic, should we just ask Zevran or Serenya for like a book or something?" Anthony asked
"Thats in the cards for sure, but its kinda sketch for two five year old to ask for books on magic, so we need to find a way to casually bring it up on the low-key man."
"I guess it's good we're getting a head start on this. If we end up in a magic academy we gotta flex on these losers and look like straight prodegies. The hoes will be lining up." Anthony said.
"We cant break any laws Anthony, we only lay pipe on teachers and single mothers alright, maybe get some extra credit if you know what im saying." Johnny said nodding
"So right now our main problem is we don't know how to form the mana into a spell, but its been like a month already shouldn't we have seen something other than our glow in that time?"
"You ever tried to start a car without any gas in it?"
"OH, Okay so its possible we didnt have enough mana in order to get results?"
"Thats the theory."
"So what have you been trying to do with your mana cause I've been trying to pull it out of my body and I haven't had any luck."
"I've been trying to move it around my body, mostly to my hands to see if I could maybe form something external."
"You see i tried that for a bit but gave up almost immediately." Anthony stated
"It could be possible to manifest magic in several different ways."
"Dude I feel like im back in science class with miss Rickard."
"Hey don't bring up that name man say it three times and she'll be summoned."
"Three years you got put in her class man I cant believe it, she must've liked you."
"She hated my guts and for good reason I didnt do shit in her class but was pretty damn good at absorbing information passively so I passed with tests and classwork alone."
Johnny began to laugh softly
"You should have seen her face when she took my book from me and I pulled out another one, then she took that one and I pulled out a third book. Fucking had me dying after class man."
"Right! cause you would just read all damn class and your ass still passed all three fucking times you had her!" Anthony said emphatically.
Riven and Talen laughed together, their voices barked with a raw, joyous sound that carried down into the valley.
"Fuck im hungry man, you wanna head back for a bit and eat?" Anthony said.
"Yeah let's go take a break."
The hill dipped out of view behind them as Riven and Talen stepped onto the faint trail they'd carved over time—not a real path, not one anyone else would notice, just a subtle flattening of grass and earth shaped by repetition. It wound its way down the slope in quiet bends, familiar enough that neither of them needed to think about where to place their feet.
Spring had settled in, though not fully. The air still carried a cool edge, especially when the breeze rolled down from the hill, but the sun hung steady overhead, warming the ground just enough to take the bite out of it. It was the kind of day that sat in between seasons—undecided, but comfortable.
Their boots brushed through the grass as they walked, bending it along the path they'd made. Here and there, small wildflowers had begun to push through, scattered and stubborn, adding bits of color to the soft greens. None of them grew directly in their way anymore. They'd trampled this route too many times for that.
The trees thinned as they moved through, the narrow trail opening out into a stretch of land that felt distinctly their own. The grass here grew a little shorter, more even, worn down in places where they'd passed through countless times. Just ahead, their house came into view—nothing large or imposing, but solid and familiar, set apart with a comfortable kind of distance from everything else.
It sat at the edge of the village rather than within it, with a wide patch of open land separating it from the rest of the settlement. Enough space to breathe. Enough space to be left alone.
Beyond that stretch, the village unfolded in soft layers—rooftops clustered together, thin trails of smoke rising into the afternoon sky. Even from here, there was movement. People crossing between buildings, the faint suggestion of life carrying on as it always did. The market sat near the center, easy to pick out by the shifting clusters of color and motion, though the sounds didn't quite reach this far—only the idea of them.
Riven's gaze lingered there for a moment, scanning the distant activity without much interest, before drifting back toward the house.
Talen didn't look as long. His attention had already settled ahead, on the familiar shape of home and the quiet that came with it.
The path beneath their feet softened as it blended into the open ground, their carefully worn trail fading into something less defined the closer they got. By the time they reached the edge of their land, there was no path at all—just memory guiding the last few steps.
The last stretch of open ground gave way to the familiar edge of their home, the quiet around it settling in as naturally as ever. Up close, the small details stood out—the worn grain of the wood along the door, the faint scent of sawdust lingering near the side where their father worked, the stillness that set this place apart from the distant movement of the village.
Riven reached the door first, but paused.
Voices.
"…next time, I'll make it myself," a woman was saying from inside, her tone calm but edged with something firm—assured in a way that didn't leave much room for argument.
"I didn't realize it was that bad," Nora replied, polite, though there was a carefulness to it now—like she was feeling her way through unfamiliar ground.
"It isn't," the woman said after a beat. "But it could be better."
A soft clink followed, porcelain against wood.
Riven glanced at Talen once, then pushed the door open.
The room was lit by the afternoon sun, warm light spilling across the table where Nora stood with a tea set still in hand. Opposite her sat someone neither of them recognized.
The resemblance was immediate—but not in a way that felt familiar.
Blonde hair, like theirs, though darker from the sun. Blue eyes that settled on them the moment they stepped inside, sharp and steady. She didn't look old—not the way they'd expected—but there was something in the way she held herself, relaxed but completely in place, that made the space feel like it belonged to her anyway.
Her skin carried a deeper tone than theirs, touched by years spent outdoors rather than away from it. One arm rested loosely against the chair, the other holding her cup as if the conversation hadn't been interrupted at all.
She took them in with a single glance—quick, measured.
Then, just slightly, her posture shifted.
Not softer, exactly. But something in her expression eased, subtle and instinctive.
"So," she said, setting the cup down with a quiet, deliberate motion. "These are them."
Nora turned, immediately relaxing at the sight of the boys. "You're back already?" she said, a small smile slipping in. "I was starting to think you'd lost track of time again."
Riven stepped inside, his tone light, easy—just enough of a child's cadence to pass without question. "We didn't," he said. "We got hungry playing in the hills."
Talen followed, closing the door behind them a little more carefully than necessary. His gaze drifted back to the woman, curious but not overly so. "Who's that?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
The woman's eyes flicked to him, and there it was again—that faint hint of approval, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
"You can introduce me properly," she said, glancing toward Nora without looking away from the boys.
Nora straightened slightly, as if reminded she was hosting someone important. "Right—of course." She gestured lightly. "This is your grandmother. She arrived not long ago."
A brief pause settled in the room.
Riven blinked once, then twice, as if processing it a second slower than he actually did. "…Grandmother?" he echoed.
Talen took a small step closer, studying her a little more openly now, though still within the bounds of a child's curiosity. "You don't look like one."
The woman huffed—quiet, amused, not offended in the slightest.
"I'll take that as a compliment," she said. Her gaze moved between them again, slower this time. Not judging. Not testing. Just… taking them in.
There was something in it—something steadier, warmer, though no less sure of itself.
"Well," she added, leaning back slightly in her chair, "come here, then. Let me see you properly."
The boys edged closer to their supposed grandmother, steps slow and cautious, as if unsure how close was too close.
Sunlight spilled through the window and caught across their faces—and something in the woman's expression shifted. A smile curled at her lips, subtle but unmistakable, her blue eyes brightening as they settled fully on them. Up close, the details stood out more clearly: the warmth in her skin from years under the sun, the steadiness in her posture, and beneath it all, a sharpness that didn't soften just because she smiled.
There was a kind of beauty there—not gentle, not delicate, but something stronger. Something that felt earned.
"Ah… yes," she murmured, her voice low, almost pleased. "Two handsome boys. You'll have trouble later—breaking hearts without even trying."
Before either of them could react—
She moved.
Fast.
One moment she was seated, the next she was leaning forward, hands already on them. In a single, effortless motion, she lifted both boys—one in each arm—as if they weighed nothing at all.
And then she squeezed.
Talen and Riven stiffened instantly, the air leaving their lungs in a quiet, strained sound as they were pulled tight against her. The grip wasn't painful—not quite—but it was firm, unyielding in a way that made it very clear she could've made it worse if she wanted to.
Their heads tilted awkwardly, bodies caught in place as they struggled to pull in a proper breath.
A faint, muffled groan escaped between them.
"OH, I am going to spoil you two rotten!" she declared, her voice suddenly bright with energy, completely at odds with the iron strength in her arms.
The grip didn't loosen.
Not right away.
Talen managed a shallow breath, just enough to speak. "Too… tight…"
"Mm?" she hummed, distracted, as if only half-aware she was still holding them. Then, after a beat, her arms shifted—still firm, still strong—but the pressure eased just enough for air to properly return.
A small pause followed, her expression changing slightly as she looked at them more closely.
"…Ah." she said quietly.
Riven drew in a deeper breath this time, steadying himself as their feet finally brushed the floor again. Talen followed a second later, both of them stepping back in quiet synchronization.
For a moment, they just stood there.
Their grandmother held her hands where they had been a second ago, then slowly flexed her fingers once, as if testing something she hadn't fully meant to use.
"Hmm," she murmured.
It wasn't an apology—but it wasn't quite nothing either.
Her gaze lingered on them, the earlier brightness still there, though now tempered with something more measured. Like she was adjusting her expectations in real time.
"Not fragile," she said, almost to herself.
The words weren't loud, but they landed with weight anyway. A brief silence settled in the room.
Then—
"Good," she added. The word carried a calm finality to it.
"Because we have a lot to talk about."