The front door creaked open.
Reyna stood in the doorway, her eyes widening as if she'd seen a ghost. For a moment, she didn't move. Then her lips curled into a smile that she could barely contain. Grann, my Grandfather's name, opened his arms wide, his grin already stretching from ear to ear.
"Hi there, buttercup!"
"Dad!" Reyna practically leapt into his arms. The two embraced tightly, swaying just slightly in place. Reyna's eyes sparkled, and Grann chuckled as he lifted her an inch off the ground.
"You still got some meat on those bones. Good!" he said, giving her shoulders a playful squeeze before releasing her.
Reyna brushed her hair back behind her ear and smiled warmly. "Where have you been, old man? It's been years."
"Had to make sure your brother didn't get himself eaten by a forest troll. You know how he is."
She snorted. "Yeah, reckless like always."
Grann looked past her into the house. "So, where's that husband of yours? Still with you, I hope. I didn't travel all this way just to meet an empty chair."
"Thorskil's out selling the crops. The harvest was good this year," Reyna said.
"Good! I'll see him later. For now..." He rubbed his stomach. "I'm starving."
The table was full of roasted vegetables, a thick potato stew, and a freshly baked loaf of rye bread. The moment we all sat down, Grann and Lyra tore into their food like starving wolves. It was like watching two storms fight for dominance.
Lyra bit into a loaf chunk with her teeth, tearing it in half like it was a prey animal. Grann slurped his stew straight from the bowl with a satisfied growl. Their movements mirrored each other.. I can see the resemblance.
"You eat like a true barbarian!" Grann said, spraying crumbs as he laughed.
"Thanks!" Lyra grinned, cheeks stuffed. "You too, Gramps!"
I blinked at them, then glanced to Mother. She had a bead of sweat running down the side of her face. Her eyes twitched slightly as she tried to maintain composure.
I wasn't sure what to say. This was my first time meeting someone from Mother's side of the family. No aunts, no uncles, no cousins, not even a mention of them until now. I never asked. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I was allowed to. And now, here he was. Sitting across from me. Eating like a beast.
"So, Father," Reyna said, taking a more modest bite of stew, "how are things back home?"
Grann slapped his chest, then downed the rest of his bowl in one go. He wiped his mouth with his forearm. "The tribe's going great! Your brother's shaping up to be the next chieftain. Ceremony's in a few months, and I'd love to invite you all. It'd do you good to return home."
Then, his eyes landed on me. He even squinted, then tilted his head.
"Is he broken?" he asked, glancing at Reyna. "Where's his spark of youth? His energy? He seemed drained. He's supposed to be a Mandate, right? Are you sure he's not adopted?"
My mouth twitched. Adopted? You were so certain that I am one of yours that you're driven to push a finger up my butt, just imagine if that was a random kid you weren't even related to, that would be shameful.. I honestly can't tell if he just was making fun of me or not.
There was a sharp clink as Mother's fork stabbed into the back of Grann's fingers.
"Ow!" Grann pulled his hand back, shaking it.
"My children aren't broken, he's simply a quite kid." she said calmly. She glanced toward me, then smiled. "In fact, Dad, he's the only one of our blood who can use magic."
Grann paused, rubbing his wounded hand with his other. His eyes settled back on me, studying me with a different sort of curiosity now.
"...Huh," he muttered. "No kidding?"
I gave a tired nod. "No kidding."
"Well, ain't that something..." Grann leaned back, arms crossed. "A Mandate who can use magic. That's rare as a three-eyed deer."
Reyna exhaled, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. She didn't even look fazed. Just tired. Like this was the kind of energy she'd grown up with every single day.
"Mandate..." I said slowly, turning to her with a furrowed brow. "Is that your maiden name?"
Before she could answer, my grandfather slammed his palm against the table, making the dishes rattle and the stew slosh dangerously close to the rim of my bowl.
"The most fierce name of the Barbarians!" he declared, puffing his chest out like a rooster ready to crow. "The Mandates! Head of the tribe, leaders of our people, forged from fire and war! Our home lies across the waters, deep in the Demon Continent, Zintar! We only recognize strength and only the strong thrive!"
He raised a single arm and squeezed the air dramatically, as if he were choking a ghost. The veins in his bicep popped with effort. Then, his eyes narrowed at me. He gave me a slow, thorough look, like I was some undercooked meat he wasn't sure about biting into.
"No offense," he said, completely about to offend me, "but you look like you haven't eaten in weeks."
He gestured to my arm like it was a limp twig.
"Reyna, you sure he's eating right? Do I need to take over feeding duties?"
Without missing a beat, another fork found his finger.
"Ow!" he yelped, recoiling. "H-hehe... okay, maybe not the best choice of words—"
Reyna's smile was sharp. "Are you implying I'm a bad mother?"
Grann cradled his hand gently "N-no, not at all, just... look at the boy."
His gaze shifted back to me, then to my mother again, and finally to Lyra, who was still busy demolishing her third helping of stew like it was her first.
"A barbarian body holds strength naturally. Even in childhood. Muscle and power is what defines us, that's what keeps our bloodline strong." He jabbed a finger toward Lyra, then toward me with the other. "Your daughter? She's got the fire. Your son? He looks like he'd lose an arm-wrestling match against a cabbage."
I stared blankly. Seriously?
Reyna let out a long sigh, like she'd been holding it for years.
"But does that really matter, Father?" she asked. "Physical strength isn't everything. My son is powerful in his own right. We're still training to unlock his Aura through swordplay, yes, and his body will develop with time, but his natural gifts lean toward something more... different."
Grann raised a bushy brow.
"Mmmm.. Different?" He said it like it tasted bitter in his mouth.
Reyna nodded. "Magic. He's already capable of voiceless casting."
For a moment, silence reigned. Even Lyra stopped chewing.
Grann blinked. "Mm, impressive."
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. All eyes were on me now. I could practically feel the weight of Mandate ancestors silently judging me.
Reyna leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice firm. "Kyro can use magic without incantation. No chant, no glyphs, and certainly not even a whisper, but just willpower. That's something only those expert mages and above could do."
Grann stared at me again, but this time there was no mocking in his eyes. Just... confusion.
"Show me, then." he demanded. "I wanna see it, here and now."
I stared down at the wooden table. I wasn't sure if I should be nervous or proud. This was my grandfather. A man who probably wrestled bears and called it morning exercise and here I was, a six-year-old reincarnated introvert with an obsession of magic. I'm still practicing with swords, and there's progress, it ain't much compared to Lyra but it was something. I mean, I'm supposed to have the mighty Mandate barbarian blood in me, I think it's expected to be talented with swords like mom or Lyra. Damn those expectations, especially coming from my grandpa.
I nodded slowly before grabbing a wooden cup as I filled it with water.
Grann scratched his beard, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "What in the name of bonefire…"
He sat back in his chair slowly, folding his arms like a man who had just witnessed something he couldn't quite explain.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered. "The cabbage might be hiding something unique after all."
Lyra snorted into her cup and laughed. Reyna smiled faintly, proud. And I... Honestly wasn't sure whether I should be flattered or mildly insulted.
"Gramps," Lyra said, catching his attention, "you're funny. Too bad you weren't at my birthmonth party." She said it casually, then proceeded to devour a chicken breast whole.
Grann's expression shifted instantly, shock replacing confusion. "Your birthmonth party?!" He looked genuinely wounded. He turned sharply toward Reyna. "Buttercup! You didn't tell us?"
Reyna sighed. "I'm sorry, Dad. I had no way to contact you. You guys don't take mail, and you don't use flying communication birds." She paused. "And you know how our people love eating birds."
Grann sighed heavily. "You could've visited on foot."
"Dad," Reyna said gently, "the Demon Continent is a harsh place. Under normal circumstances, I would have, especially if Thorskil ain't too busy." Her gaze dropped as her hand moved to her abdomen, rubbing it slowly. "I'm pregnant. I can't risk it."
Grann froze.
Then his expression softened completely, joy breaking through. "Another one?" He laughed warmly. "Ah, then I understand. I'm sorry."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice, as if this part was meant only for her. "I was planning to invite you all to your brother's wedding this coming weeks. Big ceremony. Loud music. Plenty of food, you know how it is." He smiled, but there was no disappointment in it. Just acceptance. "If you can't come, then I get it. Family comes first."
Reyna's head snapped to Grann.
"Rangle's getting married?" she asked, eyes widening in surprise.
Grann nodded proudly. "Yup. He picked a good one too. Strong woman. From another barbarian tribe."
Reyna let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "That sounds like him."
Lyra raised her hand, crumbs cling to her mouth. "I wanna come to my uncle's wedding!"
Grann's grin widened. "Oh? That's the spirit!"
I stayed quiet while they talked.
Lyra's excitement filled the space easily. She was already picturing it, I could tell. Big feast. Loud people. Probably fighting. Lots of fighting. She fit into that kind of world naturally, like she was born already knowing where to stand and how to laugh.
I wasn't like that.
My eyes drifted to the wooden table, following the grain as if it could give me an answer. Outside family. Cousins. An uncle. A grandmother I'd never met. Even Father's side had grandparents somewhere out there, people I had never seen or spoken to.
It felt… strange. I ain't scared, it's just unfamiliar.
I tried to picture myself there.
Me, standing among towering barbarians with scarred arms and booming laughs. Children my age wrestling each other in the dirt, probably swinging sticks like swords, while elders watched with proud grins. Lyra would fit right in, she always did. She was loud when she wanted to be; confident. Quick to laugh, quick to fight.
Me?
I shifted in my seat.
I wasn't the same kid I used to be. I knew that. I'd started talking more. I could hold conversations with villagers now. With farmers who stopped by the house. Even with some of the kids around my age. I didn't freeze up like before, I didn't hide behind father anymore.
But still… I kept distance.
I spoke when spoken to, and smiled when expected. I listened more than I talked. I wasn't the type to grab someone's arm and drag them into whatever I was doing like Lyra did. I wasn't the kind to laugh loudly without thinking.
I inhaled quietly, already preparing the words in my head. Something polite, something reasonable. I could stay home, train and study magic. It wasn't like I'd be missing anything important. Lyra could go. Mom could go if she wanted. I'd be fine.
Reyna hummed thoughtfully, one hand resting on her stomach as she looked at Lyra, then at Grann.
"Hmm… a wedding, huh," she said slowly. "If it's just Lyra, I think it should be fine. She'd love it."
"Yes!" Lyra pumped her fist, nearly knocking over her cup. "I wanna see Uncle Rangle! And fight his tribe's kids!"
Reyna smiled, then turned slightly, her gaze drifting toward me.
"And Kyro could come too," she added casually, like she was suggesting an afternoon walk. "It might be good for him."
My head snapped up.
I opened my mouth. "I—"
"YES! Kyro's coming too," Lyra looked at me, "right, nitwit?"
"I—"
"Great!" Grann boomed before I could finish a single word. He crossed his arms, nodding with absolute satisfaction, like a war council had just reached a unanimous decision. "Then it's settled!"
I stared at him.
I slowly closed my mouth. The words I had prepared vanished into nothing. I looked at Mom. She smiled softly, already accepting it. I looked at Lyra. She was practically vibrating with excitement. I looked back at Grann, who looked pleased with himself in a way that suggested this conversation had ended five seconds ago.
…Did anyone actually hear me?
I sank back into my chair, exhaling quietly. So this is how it happens, getting steamrolled by barbarians.
***
Thorskil made his way to the entrance gate, pushing it open before carefully closing it behind him. The wooden hinges groaned softly, a familiar sound after a long day. His shoulders felt heavy, but the ache was a satisfying one.
It was a good day.
Very good.
He shifted the heavy sacks at his hip and exhaled a long, slow breath. Beside him, the faint clink of coins felt solid and reassuring—proof that today, every bundle of crops had found a buyer. Over his shoulder, he hoisted a massive sack with one hand, while his other gripped a dripping parcel from the market: squids for tonight's dinner.
Then he stopped, his nose twitched.
Bread… freshly baked. And grilled meat. Still warm.
Four people… no, five. One of them large. Mmm... A visitor?
Thorskil's brows lifted slightly as he stepped forward, boots thudding softly against the floor as he entered the house. Placing the sack to the floor. His eyes immediately landed on Reyna in the living room. She was standing near the table, unfolding her apron, her movements relaxed in a way that told him she was at ease.
She looked up.
Their eyes met.
"Rey," he started.
"Thors!" Reyna exclaimed, her face lighting up. She rushed toward him, stopping just in front of his chest. "How was your trip?"
"Oh, everything went great," Thorskil said with a warm smile. "Sold all of our harvest, and I made plenty of profit."
He lifted two heavy coin bags, letting them jingle slightly before reaching into his coat. From inside, he pulled out a small glass bottle, its surface catching the light.
"And this?" Reyna pointed to the sack.
"Oh, that's for dinner. Squid I bought on my way here, thought we'd eat something different once in a while." He smiled. "And oh! I almost forgot." He reached from his pocket bag, "Here," he said, holding it out to her. "It's the fragrance you told me you've always wanted. I figured, since I had extra coins, I'd surprise you."
Reyna froze for a moment.
Then her eyes watered. She gently took the bottle, staring at it as if it might vanish. Her lips trembled before she looked back up at him. "Babe…" Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him and lifted him clean off the ground, squeezing him tight. "You're so romantic~!"
Thorskil laughed, feet dangling slightly. "I love you too, hun."
She set him down carefully, still smiling, and Thorskil glanced around. "Where are the kids?"
"Oh, they're in the back," Reyna replied. "Father came to visit. He's with them right now."
"Ah," Thorskil nodded. "Grann's here."
He sighed, already imagining the chaos. "I'll go check on them."
***
Grann stood at the center of the backyard, his boots pressed firmly into the dirt as if the ground itself had accepted his presence. The sunlight caught the deep lines carved into his skin, scars that looked old enough to have their own stories. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, but there was something heavy about him. Like a mountain that didn't need to move to remind you it was there.
Lyra and I stood several steps away from him, wooden swords clenched tightly in our hands.
The grip felt rough against my palms, too light, and too fragile. Completely useless against someone like him.
Earlier, Grann had suggested we spar, to test how far we've come. Not like we can do anything to him, I'm six, and Lyra's ten.
Sorry, Onnie… I thought bitterly as I adjusted my stance. He insisted I stay. I wanted to learn spells today. I wanted to feel mana flow cleanly, not get tossed around like a rag.
"C'mon," Grann said, rolling his neck with a faint crack. A grin spread across his face, sharp and eager. "Show me what you've been training for!"
Lyra moved instantly.
Her foot dug into the ground, grass tearing beneath her as she surged forward. She didn't hesitate. Didn't second-guess. Her body leaned into motion like it was born for it. I reacted a heartbeat later, pushing off to the side, circling wide to flank him.
Lyra charged straight ahead, her path unpredictable. She zigzagged, her wooden sword swinging in fast, clean arcs meant to overwhelm. The air hissed with each strike. Grann didn't even step back. He lifted one massive hand and swatted her blade aside as if brushing away an annoying insect. The impact echoed sharply.
I came in from the side.
My sword snapped forward, aiming low, but Grann turned his torso just enough to knock my weapon away with the back of his forearm. The shock rattled my bones all the way up to my shoulder.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Grann clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Too slow for my taste."
Lyra's teeth clenched. Her eyes burned. "Oh yeah?!" she snapped.
She charged again, and this time, she jumped. Her legs coiled and released, launching her upward. For a moment, her body hung in the air, shadow crossing over Grann.
He grinned. "Oh, wide open." His leg shot upward, a powerful kick aimed straight at her midsection.
But Lyra twisted in midair, she shifted her hips and shoulders, her body rotating just enough to slip past the kick. It was instinctive like she didn't even think about it.
Her wooden sword snapped forward.
Pak-!
It struck Grann's chin; not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to turn his head. Grann blinked, then he laughed.
"Oh?" He turned fully toward her now, eyes sharp with interest. "That's my granddaughter!"
Before Lyra could land properly, Grann lunged forward. His fist drove straight into her abdomen, the impact sent her flying. Her body slammed into the ground, rolling through the grass as dirt and leaves scattered. Her aura flickered violently as she tumbled, finally stopping near the fence.
"LYRA!" I shouted.
My chest tightened, panic surging up my throat. But the moment my attention left Grann—
"Hey."
His voice snapped me back. He was already looking at me, one finger casually digging into his ear. "Don't break eye contact with your enemy," he said. "That's like… the first thing you're taught."
I froze, and my legs felt stiff. My grip tightened until my knuckles hurt.
"What?" Grann tilted his head slightly, unimpressed. "You scared?"
He waved a hand lazily. "Come at me already."
You're insane.
I screamed that in my head as I charged and I swung.
He stepped aside.
I swung again.
He leaned back. Again. Again.
Every strike missed. Every movement of his was minimal, controlled, like he was conserving energy just to mock me. Then he countered with a simple slap, darn, that hurt, his palm struck my cheek so hard my vision flashed white. My feet left the ground as I was sent skidding backward. My wooden sword slipped from my hands and clattered uselessly against the dirt.
I groaned as I pushed myself up, one hand pressing against my face.
My cheek burned. Throbbed. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes.
"O-ow…"
Grann looked down at me, arms crossing over his chest. His expression was calm. Finished.
"I've seen enough."
Lyra was already back on her feet. She ran toward him, dirt clinging to her clothes, eyes shining like nothing had happened.
"Granpa, you're strong!" she said, voice full of awe.
Grann laughed loudly and reached down, lifting her effortlessly onto his trapezius. "And you're fast! You dodged my kick midair! Hahaha!"
I stayed where I was, sitting in the grass, rubbing my burning cheek, I turned to them.. They really do look alike. In the way they act, I mean. And me? I felt like I was standing outside that picture. I don't mind, honestly.
There was something comforting about watching them together. Something warm settled in my chest, a gentle feeling that reminded me of my own grandfather from my previous life. The way he used to laugh loudly, the way he would roughhouse without meaning any harm. That same kind of joy. Simple, honest, loud joy.
Then we heard the back door open.
The familiar creak of the hinges cut through the laughter.
I turned instinctively, it was father.
"Dad!" I smiled, pushing myself up to my feet as Thorskil stepped into the backyard. The moment he saw us, his expression softened.
"Grandpa, Dad's here!" She pointed to Thorskill.
"Ah," Grann said, turning his head, Lyra still perched comfortably on his shoulder. His grin widened. "The mightiest swordsman himself. Thorskil!"
Thorskil let out a sheepish laugh, scratching his cheek in a habit I had seen a thousand times. "Haha, good to see you too, Father."
Grann strode over without hesitation, closing the distance in two long steps before slapping Thorskil's back with a hand heavy enough to make the air thud. Grann kept his hand on Thorskil's back for a moment longer than necessary, giving it another firm pat as if testing the solidity of him.
"So?" he asked, chin lifted. "You still standing, or did farm life finally soften you up?"
Thorskil let out a short laugh, rolling his shoulder where he had been struck. "I'm standing, and I can assure you, I'm still as sharp as before. Just… fewer enemies, more stubborn soil."
Grann barked a laugh. "Hah! Soil fights dirty. I respect that." His eyes swept Thorskil up and down, slow and assessing. "You've filled out. Not bad for a man who chose plows over war."
"I had to keep up somehow," Thorskil replied lightly. "Two kids, a wife who could still throw me across a yard, and now you dropping by unannounced."
"That's survival training right there." Grann nodded approvingly.
From atop his shoulder, Lyra crossed her arms, clearly enjoying the height. "Dad's strong," she said proudly. "But I'm gonna be stronger."
Grann turned his head just enough to look at her from the corner of his eye, grin stretching wide. "Oh, you will, cub. You've got fire in your bones." He reached up and lightly tapped her shin. "Good balance too. Didn't even wobble when I lifted you."
Lyra beamed. "I train every day!"
"I can tell," Grann said.
Lyra puffed her chest out even more. "I hit his chin!"
Thorskil glanced up at her, surprise flickering across his face before pride replaced it. "Is that so?"
Grann laughed. "You sure did. Made me see the clouds for a second."
Thorskil chuckled, shaking his head. "What about Kyro?" He turned his head and saw me walking over. "You okay there?"
"Y-yeah." I said, still rubbing my cheek. I could see his eyes looking at my cheek, he was smiling. He head over towards me and patted my head. And so, we all went back inside the house.
[End]