I woke up to the sun shining on my face and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I told mumma yesterday I will be doing my usual duties from now on.

  Morning was for collecting some eggs. I found the basket and went off to the chicken coop tracing my usual route not yet lined with flowers. The frost still melting off.

  Believe it or not but collecting eggs can be quite fun if you learn to enjoy it as a game between you and hens. Keep a streak of how many you got without a single peck. I reached twenty-two today.

  I carried the eggs back home.

  Mumma stood at the stove preparing a big breakfast. We were having feasts every morning since getting back here. She was smiling to herself—relieved to have her family back together.

  “That was very quick, my love” she said bending down to take the basket from my offered hands.

  I showed my pearly whites. Her happiness rubbing off on me.

  “I will go set the table now,” helping around the house was it’s own joy.

  I refined my air magic skills laying down the table cloth and cutlery precisely.

  The breakfast with all five of us together was a raucous affair. Before I left for the tower, my brothers would usually not eat with us and breakfast would pass with mumma trying to feed me while they grabbed something and went out to do whatever boys did.

  Now, all the energy was released at a small table.

  Papa was our anchor—he seemed like a transformed man from the silent protector I met on the battlefield. He was gentle yet firm and always full of joy and love to give.

  Only problem Finn enjoyed playing with his food too much. He flicked a piece of omelet on my face. I can’t be sure it was deliberate because I was distracted talking to Rowan.

  The next time we sit for dinner I will pull his chair wordlessly making him fall flat. Revenge is a dish best served called, and all that.

  “Train with us,” Finn said, pointing his fork at me prepared to shoot another egg missile.

  Rowan surprisingly agreed with him and said, “You can’t always rely on magic, Mira.”

  The seriousness in his eyes made me pause. He didn’t understand the sheer amount of magic I had to rely on.

  “I don’t have a sword though—”, I said deflecting.

  “You can use my training sword.” interjected Finn.

  I shook my head around trying to think my way out of this.

  Finn looked at me like I was stupid.

  Papa joined their party against me.

  “I know you’re really powerful, dear. I have seen it still improving your physical will only help you stay safer.”

  Thoroughly lectured. I understood exactly what he meant. I understood it practically intimately.

  I nodded my assent

  If I could boost my physical stats without any exercise. I would make that deal hundred percent.

  Rowan held his training sword reverently. I received it with the honour it deserved.

  Finn immediately ruined the moment with “Grip’s wrong.”

  Pointing at me to laugh.

  “I just got this” giving him my most questioning look to make him understand he was being stupid.

  “Let me teach you” said Rowan. The wiser one of my brothers.

  He adjusted my hands and I noticed his palms were callused. Only eight and somehow he had practiced this movement enough times.

  “Loosen your grip. You’re holding it too tightly.” said Rowan as I practiced swinging the sword around.

  I listened and loosened my tight hold and swinged it gracefully. Time passed playing swords with my brothers under the sun.

  “Hit harder,” Finn screamed while making a quick work of the dummy.

  “She should not. Technique is more important.” said Rowan.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Stronger. Better.” replied Finn confidently.

  Rowan ignored him and said to me.

  “Your grip is much better now. Practice this swing a hundred times now.”

  If I was better at magic I could have taken down that golem precisely with minimal loss. All this strength and I can only use it for senseless self-serving destruction.

  Rowan looked at me expectingly.

  I began practicing the swings. Rowan coached me when my balance faltered. He patiently guided me to the right footwork when I forgot.

  At some point Finn got bored of watching me swing and jumped in front of me.

  “Hit me,” he said. Holding his sword in the form I had just learned. His feet planted to the ground giving him good manoeuvrability.

  “No.” I replied

  He swung first.

  I defended and tried to hit him back.

  He would disappear from my vision and attack me from another side. It was actually insane how I could not even track the movements of this monkey like six year old boy.

  He tapped me from the back. Hitting the same shoulder I was hurt on a week ago.

  I tried not to cry out but something in my expression must have told them there was something wrong. He ended his assault.

  “You just need to practice more to get better at it,” he said helpfully.

  “I—”

  “I can see in your eyes where you’re going to attack,” he added to his account.

  “It’s telegraphing,” Rowan said poking his head from the strength training exercises he was doing.

  “Whatever,” Finn said. “I figured out what’s wrong with her first.”

  I adjusted but still failed to land a hit on Finn. He was inhumanely fast.

  It made me curious how his evaluation result looked like. I had never asked before.

  I saw Papa watching from the fence. I ran to him.

  “How did I do?” I asked.

  He considered it properly.

  “Your sincerity will take you far.”

  A royal official came to deliver the letter when sun was at its peak.

  He announced the content officially to the family and finally handed a sealed royal invitation to papa. And left. The quality of the invitation stood out starkly on our table—which retained a rustic charm no matter how much you scrubbed it.

  We stared at it. All five of us.

  Finn broke first making a dash grab for it. He was intercepted by papa who turned out to be even faster than him.

  “The ceremony is set for start of next month. The whole family is invited.” said Papa reading through the letter.

  Rowan listened attentively his back straight.

  Papa continued. “Investiture is in the capital city.”

  “What’s investiture?” asked Finn.

  “They will be officially recognizing me as a baron. It also includes founding a House which the King will entitle to us along with some piece of land. The House will swear its loyalty to the King.” Papa explained patiently.

  He turned the page.

  “They give us a new house? I like it here!” interjected Finn.

  “No, a noble family has an officially documented bloodline which receives rewards from the King in their strength.” said Rowan.

  “What kind of rewards?” I asked.

  “For Knights—I’ve heard it boosts constitution, recovery and endurance depending on the rank.” said papa. It seems he didn’t know too much about what exactly it did either.

  “Still…how do they actually do it?” asked Finn sounding annoyed Rowan knew more than he did.

  “They will take a drop of my blood and your mumma’s blood. Our descendants—you all—will be recognized as members of the House.” said papa.

  That made sense. I thought.

  “There’s no need,” said mumma playing with the hem of her sleeves.

  “You’re of course needed, Maris. We will both be co-progenitors officially.” said papa, frowning slightly now.

  “There is no doubt of that anyway,” she replied.

  “It’s the official record for our family”

  She seemed furious now. “Not everything needs to be written with blood.”

  There was silence as papa processed this. Maybe not wanting to continue this fight in front of us.

  Rowan looked between them.

  Finn whispered, “Does that mean we’re nobles?”

  Silence.

  I looked at the letter.

  An oath. Houses with bloodlines and potentially actual boosts in your evaluation depending on the rank. There were tangible benefits to nobility in this world.

  Mumma stood. “I need to go tend to the greens.”

  She left the table.

  Papa kept looking at the doorway even long after she walked out.

  Rowan broke the silence first.

  “So we’re a House now?”

  Papa exhaled slowly. “Yes.”

  Finn grinned. “We get stronger?”

  Papa almost smiled.

  “You will know after your evaluation.”

  Finn liked that answer.

  That night I went out for a walk in the night. A moment to feel the breeze and relaxed.

  I was stopped by a controlled argument. Low and fast despite the isolation.

  “You should stand beside us,” Papa was saying. “We’re together in this.”

  “It is your House,” Mumma replied.

  “It is ours, Maris. We built this together.”

  “The children are,” she said. “But this House nonsense is all yours.”

  A pause.

  “Just a drop of your blood and this house would be tied to our children,” Papa said.

  “You can tie it yours. There is more to old magic than you understand.” she said and walked away.

  I went back to the house under the sheets before anyone could discover me.

  The next morning I sat by the crystal blue pond—it always looked the same. No matter the seasons. I had never seen it freeze.

  “You ended the war,” Finn announced when he saw me. My heart skipped a beat.

  I denied it. Even though he would know the truth of what exactly I did at some point when we reached the capital.

  Rowan trailed behind him.

  “Come to breakfast.”

  “Are you going?” I asked Mumma at breakfast.

  She didn’t hesitate.

  “No.”

  Finn’s head snapped up. “Why not?”

  “I have many animals and plants to tend to, I am the only who can. You all enjoy.” she said wiping her face.

  “They can survive couple day without you,” he argued.

  She brushed the hair on his hand. Messing it up.

  No one else pushed the matter.

  I had ended a war to gain enough power to not be a prisoner in the Mage tower. To be more than a battery.

  Now, the Crown had managed to entangle me further in their games. Who knows what they would demand of me next as my family split its loyalties.