Several days passed before the clan finally accepted it.
At first, people only noticed the absence. Their patriarch had not appeared that morning. Then the next. Then another day passed, and another after that. By the end of the week, the entire island already understood what had happened even if nobody said it directly. Vexer was gone.
The island itself had not changed. The defenses still stood, the clan still functioned, and life continued moving the same way it always had. But something about the atmosphere felt heavier now. Like a pillar holding the entire place together had quietly disappeared.
Sigil had prepared for this long ago.
Vexer had already handed most of the clan's management to him years earlier, so the transition caused little chaos. Still, the amount of work increased noticeably. The island's defenses were strengthened in secret, patrols became tighter, and several older clan members who had been inactive for years quietly returned to duty. Nothing was announced openly, but anyone paying attention could feel the tension beneath the surface.
Three, on the other hand, spent his days doing almost nothing useful.
Most of his time disappeared inside the clan library. He would pull random books from shelves, read for a while, get distracted midway, then grab another one. When he wasn't doing that, he spent his time following his mother around the island.
Khate had made it her mission to restore his mood.
And honestly, it worked frighteningly well.
Three had slowly discovered that grief became much easier to endure when someone constantly fed you snacks and dragged you into random outings. New food appeared almost daily. Walks turned into adventures. Somehow, every conversation with his mother ended with him holding something sweet in his hands.
Sometimes Three wondered if all twelve-year-olds were this easy to manipulate.
Of course, he had not forgotten Vexer. The ring on his finger made sure of that every time he looked at his hand. But grief at his age was strange. It came in waves instead of staying constant. One moment he missed his grandfather badly, and the next he was arguing with his mother about whether he could survive entirely on desserts.
Life kept moving anyway.
On this particular morning, a clan member informed him that Sigil wanted to see him in his office.
Three immediately became suspicious.
His father rarely summoned him for casual conversation.
The moment he stepped into the office, Sigil stood up and patted his back warmly.
"Three, my boy. How have you been?"
Three narrowed his eyes immediately.
That face again.
His father only acted this friendly whenever he wanted something. Usually something troublesome.
'He definitely messed something up with Mum again,' Three thought calmly. 'And now he wants me to save him.'
"I've been fine," Three answered carefully as he sat down. "Mother has been treating me very well lately."
Sigil's expression twitched slightly.
He understood exactly what Three meant by that sentence.
"Good," Sigil said while pretending not to notice the hidden attack. "That is good."
Three leaned back slightly, waiting.
Sigil remained silent for a while, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. Then, unexpectedly, a grin appeared on his face.
The moment Three saw it, goosebumps rose on his skin.
Danger.
"Father," Three said cautiously, "why are you smiling like that?"
Sigil ignored the question.
"Three," he began, "have you ever thought about marriage?"
Three stared at him.
Then stared some more.
"Father," he said slowly, "I am twelve years old."
"I'm aware."
"So why are we discussing marriage like I'm some old clan elder with three children already?"
Sigil coughed lightly into his fist.
"Look, son. Hear me out first."
Three crossed his arms immediately.
"I already know this conversation is going somewhere terrible."
"It isn't."
"It definitely is."
Sigil sighed.
"The great families outside the island often arrange betrothals very early," he explained. "Sometimes before their children are even born. Since you are already twelve, I thought perhaps you might start considering such things."
"I don't even know what I want for breakfast most mornings," Three replied flatly. "Why would I think about marriage?"
Sigil decided to ignore that and continued speaking anyway.
"When I was ten years old, your grandfather sent me out into the world," he said. "Officially, it was to study and experience life outside the clan. In reality, I think he was simply tired of seeing me train every hour of the day."
Three blinked.
"You went to school?"
"Unfortunately."
Three suddenly found this conversation much more interesting.
"That was where I met your mother," Sigil continued, and for the first time since the conversation started, a faint redness appeared on his face. "She had many suitors back then."
Three looked at his father again, then at the serious expression on his face.
No way.
"I fought them," Sigil said proudly.
Three almost choked on air.
"You WHAT?"
"I defeated them," Sigil repeated calmly, as if discussing the weather. "One by one."
"Over Mum?"
"Of course."
Three stared at his father in complete disbelief before laughter escaped him. It started small, then quickly grew louder.
His father had actually fought people over his mother.
That was the funniest thing he had heard all week.
"When I was twelve," Sigil continued with complete seriousness, "I proposed to her and told her I would marry her once we became adults."
"And she agreed?"
"Naturally."
Three laughed even harder.
He had never heard the story of how his parents met before, and now that he had, he suddenly understood several things about his father's personality.
A thought suddenly entered his mind.
"What about Grandpa?" Three asked after calming down slightly. "Didn't he say he suppressed his cultivation for five hundred years? When did he even find time to marry Grandma?"
Sigil's expression softened slightly at the mention of Vexer.
"My father was obsessed with cultivation," he said. "He had no interest in women until he felt strong enough to properly protect whoever he married." He paused briefly. "He only got married around a hundred years ago. I was born about forty years later."
Three blinked slowly.
"So Grandpa was already over a thousand years old when you were born?"
"More than that."
Three suddenly imagined Vexer pinching his cheeks while casually being older than entire civilizations.
The thought felt ridiculous and strangely sad at the same time.
"Well," Three said eventually, "I don't have anyone in mind right now. And I'm still young, so let me enjoy life properly first."
Then a sly grin appeared on his face.
"Also, I enjoy sleeping in my own bed. I have no plans to spend nights outside."
Sigil's face darkened immediately.
Of course he understood the hidden meaning behind those words.
Unfortunately for him, he could also feel a familiar gaze watching from somewhere outside the office.
So he swallowed every response he wanted to say.
Three almost smiled victoriously.
"But seriously," he asked after a moment, "why did you actually call me here?"
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
The amusement disappeared from Sigil's face as his gaze moved toward the window. His eyes settled somewhere far beyond the island.
When he spoke again, his voice had lowered.
"It's because," he said quietly, "it's almost time."