"You are late, Voren."
Voren's gaze met his father's without hesitation.
Aldric Kaleid stood at the head of the dining hall, posture straight, arms folded behind his back as always. His expression was firm, but there was no sharpness in it tonight. If anything, there was something restrained beneath his calm, something close to expectation.
"I know," Voren replied. "Sorry."
Aldric gave a short nod, accepting the apology without comment. "Sit."
That was when Voren finally noticed the table.
To his surprise, the long oak dining table was full. Not just occupied. Full in the truest sense of the word.
Plates layered upon plates stretched from one end to the other. Roasted meats glazed to a golden sheen. Steaming bowls of herb-infused broth. Fresh bread still warm enough to release a comforting aroma when torn. Seasonal vegetables sautéed in fragrant oils. Delicacies he recognized from festivals and special occasions, things that never appeared on an ordinary night.
This was not the dinner he ate every evening.
This was a farewell feast.
Voren stopped just short of the table, taking it all in. The candles burned brighter than usual, their flames steady, filling the room with a gentle glow that softened every corner. The air itself felt warmer, heavier, as if the house were holding its breath.
"It's a bit much," Voren said at last, glancing toward his mother. "You didn't need to go overboard."
Mary Kaleid looked up from where she was adjusting a dish, her hands dusted lightly with flour. She smiled, not the polite kind, but the soft, knowing smile that only a mother could give.
"Nonsense," she said. "This is my gift to you."
She wiped her hands and walked closer, placing them on Voren's shoulders. "A good meal for your stomach, and strength for your body. You'll be busy in the coming weeks. I want you healthy."
Her voice was gentle, but firm in its own way. There was no arguing with it.
Voren felt his chest tighten slightly. "Thank you, Mom."
She patted his shoulder. "Sit before everything gets cold."
Before he could move, a smaller figure barreled into him from the side.
"Brother!"
Voren barely had time to react before his sister wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him with surprising strength for her size. He laughed softly and returned the hug, ruffling her hair.
"You're going to knock me over," he said.
"I don't care," she replied, voice muffled against his shirt. "You're leaving."
He pulled back slightly, then noticed it.
Her hands were awkwardly positioned behind her back, fingers clenched around something she was clearly trying to hide. The way she shifted from foot to foot only made it more obvious.
Voren smirked.
"What are you hiding back there?" he asked, bending down to her level.
Her eyes widened. "N-nothing!"
"Really?" He tilted his head. "Because you're terrible at lying."
She puffed her cheeks, then finally sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat. Slowly, she brought her hands forward.
In them was a folded sweater.
It was thick, knitted from dark wool, the stitches uneven in places but tightly woven. It wasn't perfect. Some patterns didn't align quite right. One sleeve looked slightly longer than the other.
But it was unmistakably handmade.
She held it out with both hands, cheeks burning red. "I made it for you."
Voren froze.
"They say Oakhaven is very cold," she continued quickly, words tumbling over each other. "Especially at night. And I don't want my brother to catch a bad cold. You always forget to dress properly."
The room went quiet for a moment.
Voren carefully took the sweater, feeling its weight, the warmth still clinging to it. His throat tightened in a way he hadn't expected.
"It's perfect," he said.
Her eyes flicked up. "R-really?"
He nodded. "I'll wear it."
Her face lit up instantly, pride replacing embarrassment in a heartbeat. "You have to! Every day!"
He chuckled. "I'll do my best."
As he straightened up, his gaze lifted and met Iris's.
She had been watching the exchange quietly, a soft smile on her lips. When their eyes met, she stepped closer and gently held his arm, her fingers slipping into the crook of his elbow as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"You know," she said quietly, "you're lucky."
Voren glanced at her. "I know."
"No," Iris said, squeezing his arm a little. "I mean really lucky. To have people who care this much. Who are willing to do so much for you without asking anything in return."
Her voice carried no envy. Only warmth.
Voren looked around the table again. His father standing tall and silent. His mother watching him with eyes full of concern and pride. His sister practically vibrating with excitement. Iris beside him, close and steady.
Grateful didn't even begin to cover it.
Everything here had existed before. Every person. Every relationship. Every moment like this had happened once already.
But back then, he hadn't fully understood it.
He had taken it for granted.
After his regression, he had learned to cherish them properly. That was why he had kissed Iris in his room. In his previous life, he had only hugged her, too cautious, too uncertain, too focused on the future to stake his heart in the present.
By kissing her now, he had spoken without words.
He had made his feelings now clear to her.
And he would not carry any regret with him to Oakhaven City.
They took their seats around the table. Aldric at the head. Mary beside him. Voren across from them, with Iris next to him. His sister wedged herself as close to Voren as possible, claiming her spot with an air of triumph.
The meal began.
"Eat slowly," Mary said, immediately slipping into her usual role. "There's plenty."
Voren nodded and took his first bite.
It tasted incredible.
Conversation flowed easily. Small talk at first. His sister chattered endlessly about her day, about a new book she was reading, about how she was going to start training seriously too. Mary asked Iris about her family, about her plans now that Voren would be gone for a while.
"I'll help around here," Iris replied. "I plan on staying throughout the night."
"That's good," Mary said approvingly. Then she paused, glancing between Iris and Voren.
She smiled.
"You know," Mary said casually, "the way you look at my son…"
Iris stiffened.
"…it reminds me of how I used to look at Aldric," Mary continued.
"Mom," Voren said immediately.
Mary ignored him. "Have you two talked about the future? Marriage? Children?"
Iris's face turned bright red.
"M-Mrs. Kaleid—" she started, then stopped, lowering her head, completely flustered.
"Mom! Not in front of her!" Voren protested.
Aldric coughed lightly into his cup, suspiciously hiding a smile.
Mary laughed. "Alright, alright. I'm only teasing."
Iris peeked up again, still blushing, and Voren felt his own ears warm. His sister giggled uncontrollably, clearly enjoying the chaos.
The meal continued with laughter and gentle teasing, the kind that wrapped around the heart and refused to let go.
Eventually, Aldric set his utensils down.
The sound was soft, but it drew everyone's attention.
He stood.
Taking a cup of wine from the table, he raised it high.
"To Voren," Aldric said, his voice steady and resonant.
Everyone lifted their gaze.
"To your path to power. To your path to magehood. May it be difficult, and may you endure it."
He paused, eyes locking onto his son.
"May your name raise the Kaleid household throughout the kingdom. May you stand where others fall. And should your road carry you beyond this earthly realm, beyond this plane and into the greater dimensions that bind our world together…"
His grip tightened slightly around the cup.
"…carry our legacy with you."
Silence followed.
Then Voren stood as well, lifting his own cup, emotion pressing hard against his chest.
"I will," he said simply.
They drank.
Later that night, as the candles burned low and the voices faded into quiet, Voren sat back and let the moment settle.
Everything felt new.
The faces. The warmth. The weight of belonging.
And yet, he had lived every moment of this before.
The difference now was simple.
This time, he truly understood what he had been given.
And he would not waste it.