The Fifth Birthday: Manor Assaroth
The manor awoke with a roar of life. From his bedroom, Rune could hear the frantic, joyful chaos of the servants below. The air itself seemed to hum with the clinking of silver, the rustle of banners, and the distant, sweet scent of honey-glaze and roasting meats.
Hilda entered with a flourish, pulling back the heavy curtains to let the morning sun flood the room. "Happy birthday, Young Master! The household is already in an uproar for you. Wash quickly; your parents are waiting for the morning proceedings."
When Rune finally made it to the dining hall, he found Froyd and Ravina sitting unusually close. There was a strange, soft intensity in the way they looked at each other—a quiet radiance that even a five-year-old could sense. But the sight of a birthday feast proved a powerful distraction;
Rune simply noted the oddity in the back of his mind and fell upon his breakfast with gusto.
As he finished, he braced himself for the arrival of his tutor, the household scholar. But his father held up a hand.
"No lessons today, Rune," Froyd said, a broad grin splitting his face. "In fact, you're dismissed from the study entirely. Go to the park. Stay as long as you like. And be sure to invite your friends back here for the celebration this afternoon."
Rune froze, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. "Really? All morning?"
"Well," Froyd teased, glancing at Ravina. "It is your birthday. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay inside and conjugate ancient verbs?"
Ravina stifled a giggle. "It seems our little scholar has grown fond of his books, honey. Perhaps I should call the tutor back in—"
"I'm done eating! Bye Mom! Love you!"
With a literal whoosh, Rune was out the door, his small boots thumping rhythmically against the stone floor as he scrambled to escape before they could change their minds.
Froyd and Ravina watched him retreating back, their smiles fading into something deeper and more protective. Despite his genius, he was still just a boy running toward the sunlight.
The Norgke County Commons Park
"Whoooooo!"
Rune skidded to a halt near the great oak tree, chest heaving. "That was close. I almost lost my morning to grammar."
He spotted a familiar head of messy hair.
"Hey, Amery! What are we playing? Can I join?"
Amery looked up, eyes bright.
"Sure, but you have to help me find Thora, Siggy, and Tove first. We're playing 'Scouts of the Nine Realms'."
"Sweet!" Rune grinned. "I've got something to tell everyone once we're all together."
The morning disappeared into a blur of wooden swords and hide-and-seek. When the group finally gathered to rest, Rune made his announcement: a grand party at the manor with a promise of more sweets, cake, and games than the village had ever seen. The cheers of the children echoed through the trees, a herald of the festivities to come.
The Evening's End
The party was a triumph. The manor had been transformed into a hall of music and laughter, filled with the high-pitched giggles of children and the warm songs of the Midgard folk. But as the moon rose—the same moon that made Rune's pendant pulse with a faint, unseen silver light—the guests departed, and the house fell into a comfortable silence.
Exhausted and happy, Rune began to head for his room, but a servant stopped him.
"Young Master, your parents request your presence in their chambers before you retire."
He found them sitting by the hearth, the firelight casting long shadows.
"Mom? Dad? Did I do something wrong?"
"Come here, my love," Ravina whispered, reaching out a hand.
As Rune approached, she took his small hand and pressed it firmly against her stomach.
Suddenly, Rune felt a sharp, rhythmic thud against his palm. He jumped back, eyes wide with terror.
"AH! Something's wrong! Dad, get the doctor! Something moved inside Mom!"
Froyd let out a booming laugh, pulling Rune into a side-hug.
"Relax, my boy. Your mother is perfectly fine. That 'something' just means you're going to have a little brother or sister soon."
The panic left Rune's face, replaced by a slow, dawning wonder.
"A... a big brother? I'm going to be a big brother?"
"The eldest of the house," Froyd said, his voice turning uncharacteristically serious.
"The protector. It will be your job to look after them once you're both grown. Do you think you can handle that?"
Rune looked at his mother's stomach, then up at his father, his small chest swelling with a newfound sense of purpose. The pendant beneath his shirt seemed to grow warm against his skin.
"Yes, Father," Rune said, his voice steady. "Leave it to me. I'll take care of them."