Chapter eleven: Echoes of the Past

A few days have passed in the capital. Most of their hours were spent under the house, in the stone-walled training hall that. Down there, where the air was cool and echoes carried, Cid and Fenrona trained with the dragonlings.

The children sat cross-legged before them, wings folded, eyes wide with focus.

“Listen,” Cid began, his voice steady, carrying the weight of someone who had lived through countless lessons of his own. “It doesn’t matter whether you’re human, dragon… even gods. We all have a core. Even me. Mine’s just… empty. But if you can control your core, if you can hold it steady and maintain it, you can walk among others like us—without fear.”

Fenrona’s tail swayed gently behind her as she added, “Close your eyes. Picture your core.”

“Concentrate,” Cid said, stepping closer, his tone sharpening. “Fill it. Try to touch it. Then let it flow. Through your arms, your legs, your wings, your head. Let it move like blood, like breath.”

Adel’s little voice piped up, hesitant. “It feels… weird, Father.”

“Good.” Cid’s mouth twitched into a faint smile. “That means you’ve touched it. Now don’t hold back. Release whatever magic feels natural.”

The chamber flared with light and sound. Adel’s jaws opened, flames spilling forth. Nyx’s arms pulsed as stone cracked up from the floor, reshaping under her will. Dalin unfurled her wings, shards of ice spraying into the air before shattering against the stone.

“Good job, girls!” Fenrona cheered, clapping her hands together, her wolf ears perked and her tail wagging. A smile softened her face, radiant with pride. “That means your father owes you something special.”

“Really?” the three chimed in unison, eyes gleaming.

“Yes,” Cid said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I’ll cook you the dish my mother used to make.”

Later, Cid walked the streets of the capital, slipping into shops to gather what he needed: noodles, meat, eggs… and popsicles for dessert. He carried the bundle carefully, his thoughts drifting back to Moonlight. Emy… do you remember the taste of this dish?

As he neared home, the door opened before he reached it. A little girl darted out and leapt into his arms.

“Father, you’re home!” she said brightly, smiling up at him.

Cid blinked, momentarily stunned. “…Nyx? Is that you?”

“Father, you recognized me!” she beamed, her smile stretching even wider.

“Of course I would,” Cid said softly, kissing her forehead. “I was gone less than an hour. How did you do this?”

“I just did what you told us focused on my core. Then I imagined being like you. And then puff!” She spread her arms. “I turned into this.”

Cid chuckled, pride flickering in his eyes. “Good job, Nyx.”

A voice drifted from the street. An old woman stood outside a nearby house, leaning on her cane. “You must be the new hunter who bought this place. What a cute daughter you have.”

“Yes,” Cid said with a warm smile, his hand resting gently on Nyx’s shoulder. “She’s my oldest.”

“Father,” Nyx whispered, tugging his coat. “Who is she?”

“The neighbor,” Cid murmured. “Be polite. Wave.”

“Hallo!” Nyx said, raising her hand.

“Hallo, little one,” the old woman replied, waving back. Her eyes narrowed curiously. “Do you have more?”

“Actually, three,” Cid answered, his smile turning faintly mischievous. “And more on the way.”

“Really?” she asked, surprise creasing her features. “So that beast-woman is your wife?”

“Yes,” Cid said firmly. “And I’d prefer you not call her that.”

The woman hesitated, then smiled faintly. “Forgive me. She is beautiful.”

Cid’s voice softened. “I know. I thank the gods every day for her.”

The old woman chuckled. “My grandson lives here with me. You should meet him he’s about your age.” She pointed to the house behind her.

“I will,” Cid said, stepping back toward the door. “Have a good day.”

“What a good man,” the woman muttered to herself as he closed the door.

“I’m home,” Cid called, setting down the ingredients.

“Welcome back, my love,” Fenrona’s voice answered from the stairs. She descended gracefully, her silver hair catching the firelight. “I see you’ve already met her.”

“Not just me,” Cid said, smirking. “Our neighbor saw Nyx too. And she called you beautiful.”

Fenrona’s cheeks flushed. “Stop, love…” she whispered, embarrassed.

Cid kissed her forehead before handing her a popsicle. “I bought these for you two. Where are the others?”

Fenrona patted Nyx’s head. “Still downstairs trying to do what she did.”

“I’ll go help them,” Cid said, rolling up his sleeves. “Dinner will wait until they’ve all had their turn.”

Downstairs, Dalin and Adel were growing restless. Their wings twitched, their eyes glistened with tears, frustration building.

“You’re too tense,” Cid told them, his voice steady, though his eyes softened with patience.

“Father…” both whispered, desperate.

“You need to relax,” he said, crouching to their level. “Let the core do the work.”

“We just… can’t,” they stammered, tears spilling.

“Don’t cry,” Cid said, sitting beside them. His hand rested on their scaled heads, firm and warm. “Listen. Do what I say, and if you manage it—I’ll bring your Aunt Emily to dinner tomorrow. Deal?”

Their eyes lit with hope. “Okay!” they said together, shutting their eyes tightly.

“Good.” His voice dropped into a calm rhythm. “Now—focus. Let the core flow. Let it guide you. Imagine me, your mother, your sister… imagine the family you want to stand beside. Let the core shape you into that image.”

The dragonlings shuddered, the air around them heating. Steam poured from their bodies, rolling through the hall in thick waves.

“Dalin! Adel!” Cid shouted, unable to see them through the haze. His heart kicked in his chest—then, as the smoke thinned, two small figures emerged, stumbling forward on bare feet.

They were girls now. Humanoid. Their eyes, still draconic in hue, sparkled with wonder.

“Don’t make me worry like that again,” Cid muttered, voice gruff, though relief pulled a smile across his lips. He patted their heads with a trembling hand.

“Father…” they whispered in unison, as if seeking his approval.

“Good job, you two.” His smile widened, pride breaking through his stoicism. “Tomorrow, I’ll keep my promise. I’ll bring your aunt.” He kissed their foreheads, one after the other.

When they climbed upstairs, Fenrona was waiting. She leaned down, kissing each girl’s brow. “Good job, you two.”

“Thanks, Mama,” Adel said, grinning wide.

“Thanks, Mother,” Dalin added, more composed.

“Come play with me, sisters!” Nyx called, already dashing into the wide living room. The three of them chased each other, laughter filling the once-silent halls.

Cid slipped an arm around Fenrona, pulling her close. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Now we look like a normal family.”

“Yes,” she said softly, leaning against his chest. “We do.”

“Tomorrow,” Cid murmured, watching his daughters run wild, “I’ll go to her. I’ll invite Emily to eat with us.”

“It’ll be nice,” Fenrona said with a faint smile. She looked up at him, eyes bright. “Now go make us dinner.”

The meal was simple—no feast of kings, but one born of memory and care.

“Noodle soup with meat and eggs,” Cid announced, setting bowls before them. “Back then, we didn’t have much. My mother made this on special days—because meat was rare.”

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The children dug in at once.

“It’s yummy!” Adel said, eating so fast she nearly tipped her bowl.

“Not so fast, little one,” Cid chided.

“I’ll eat faster!” Dalin declared with a grin, slurping loudly.

“Don’t eat like that, both of you,” Fenrona said, though she was smiling as she tried the broth. Her eyes softened. “It’s really good, my love.”

“Yes, Father!” Nyx said eagerly. “It’s really, really good!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Cid murmured. He took his own spoonful—and froze. The taste hit him like a memory, sharp and bittersweet. His eyes watered.

“Love?” Fenrona asked gently.

“Father?” the girls whispered.

“I’m fine,” Cid said, wiping his cheek. “It just reminded me of my mother.” He gave a faint smile and kept eating.

When the bowls were empty and the fire burned low, Cid stood. “Honey, I’m going out.”

“Where?” Fenrona asked, rising with him.

“To see Ker.”

“Good luck, love,” she said, pressing her lips to his cheek. “Nyx—help me with the dishes.”

“Yes, Mother,” Nyx replied dutifully.

The Hunter’s Tavern was larger than Bill’s—rowdy, crowded, the air thick with ale and sweat. Hunters filled the tables, their laughter edged with danger.

Cid pushed through the noise and sat at the bar.

“What can I get you, young man?” the woman behind the counter asked, raising a brow.

“Whiskey. Strong. And I need to speak to Ker.”

The hunters nearby turned their heads, sizing him up.

The woman poured his drink. “You know where you are, don’t you?”

“Yes. Bill sent me,” Cid said, sipping.

Her eyes narrowed, then she smirked. “So, you’re his monster.”

“You know him?”

“I am Ker, kid. And I guess you’re Cidolfus Lynvern.”

Cid downed the cup in one gulp. “Yes.”

“You drank that too fast,” Ker muttered, pouring him another. “But it’s good you came. I need you.”

“What’s the job?” Cid asked, setting the glass down.

“The job can wait. First—what do you need?”

Cid’s eyes sharpened. “Intel. A girl. Sixteen. Emily. Adopted daughter of Briks.”

Ker tilted her head. “Why?”

“She’s my sister,” he said, and explained enough for her to understand.

Ker’s smirk faded. “They live nearby. She studies at the Royal Academy one of the strongest there, from what I’ve heard.”

“Sounds like her.” Relief flickered in his voice. “Thank you. Now… the job?”

“Old mersomufs near the north gate,” Ker said, sliding a parchment across.

“Consider it done.” Cid left coin on the counter and stood.

“You sure you want to head out now?” she asked, brows raised.

“I’ve killed plenty of old mersomufs,” he said, walking out.

Ker watched him go. “Good luck, monster.”

At the north gate, the guards waved him through after seeing the papers. Outside the walls, the land fell quiet until a shadow moved.

“There you are,” Cid muttered. He launched forward, his blade Clain flashing. The creature roared as one of its eyes burst under the strike.

“Angry already?” Cid taunted. “I don’t have time to play. My wife and kids are waiting.” He vaulted into the air, his coat billowing, and with a single strike split the beast’s skull.

He tore off one of its horns and returned to the tavern, depositing the job without ceremony.

When he opened his own door, the warmth of home greeted him.

“I’m home,” he called.

“Welcome back, love,” Fenrona said from by the fire. The dragonlings were asleep, curled like kittens around the hearth.

“Already in bed?” Cid asked, kissing her gently.

“They were exhausted,” Fenrona said with a soft laugh.

“I think I’ll join them,” he said.

“Without me?” she teased.

“Of course not.” He swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs.

In their room, Fenrona rested her head against his chest. “So tomorrow… I’ll finally meet her.”

“I hope she’ll come with me,” he whispered. His hand brushed her hair.

“She will,” Fenrona murmured, kissing him. “Love, don’t doubt it.”

“I love you, honey.”

“I know,” she said, her smile tender. “I love you too.”

They drifted to sleep together, the city’s hum beyond their windows, tomorrow’s promise heavy with hope.

Morning light spilled through the shutters, golden and soft. Cid stirred first, his instincts waking him before the rest of the house. He rose quietly, washed, and descended the stairs. The hearth was cold, but he stoked the embers until a faint warmth glowed, then set about preparing breakfast. The smell of eggs and meat soon filled the air.

Light footsteps pattered against the stairs. Nyx appeared in her human form, her hair slightly tousled, her face bright.

“Good morning, Father,” she said, hugging his leg.

“Good morning, Nyx,” Cid said, lifting her up with a smile. Her warmth eased the heaviness in his chest.

“What are you making?” she asked, sniffing the air.

“Eggs and meat,” he replied. “Now—can you go wake your mother and sisters for me?”

“Yes!” she said cheerfully, hopping down and scampering upstairs.

Moments later, Fenrona came down with Adel cradled in her arms, Dalin close behind.

“Good morning, Dad!” Dalin called, bouncing into a chair.

“Morning, my love,” Fenrona said, yawning as she leaned down to kiss him softly.

“Good morning to you all,” Cid said, ruffling Dalin’s hair before turning his gaze to Adel. He brushed a finger across her cheek. “What’s wrong, little one?”

Adel’s face was flushed, her voice small. “Good morning, Papa. I’m not… feeling well.”

Cid kissed her forehead, concern shadowing his features. “Come eat. You’ll feel better.”

They gathered at the table. For a time, there was only the clink of plates and the warmth of family.

Afterward, they settled before the fire. Adel slept with her head on Cid’s chest, Fenrona leaning against his shoulder. The crackling flames filled the silence with peace.

“Love,” Fenrona murmured, “let me cook today.”

“You sure?” Cid asked, brushing back Adel’s hair.

“Yes,” she said, her tone a little firmer now. “I want to show your sister that I can be… a good wife.” Her hand tightened against his sleeve.

“Honey,” he said gently, kissing her forehead, “you don’t need to prove anything. But if you want to, you can.”

She smiled faintly, but the grip of her hand lingered.

Hours passed. The house quieted into a still rhythm of chores and play. At last, Cid shifted Adel into Fenrona’s arms.

“Honey, can you take her for me?” he asked quietly.

“You’re going to her?” Fenrona asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Yes.” His voice carried a weight of both hope and worry.

“Father,” Nyx said suddenly, looking up at him, “can I come with you?”

Cid studied her for a moment, then his stern features softened. “You know what? Why not?”

Her face lit up.

He lifted her into his arms, adjusted his coat, and together they stepped out. The city stretched wide before them, busy and loud. Each step carried him closer to the moment he had waited two long years for.

The spires of the Royal Academy rose ahead, white stone gleaming beneath the midday sun.

Emy… he thought, his grip tightening faintly on Nyx. Will you recognize me when you see me?

The Royal Academy buzzed with its usual morning noise—students rushing between classes, weapons clattering, and laughter echoing down the halls. In the locker room, Emily was tying her hair when Monic leaned in close, grinning.

“Did you hear?” Monic whispered. “There’s a new hunter in the capital. They say he killed the old mersomufs near the north gate.”

“So, maybe you’ll finally have a chance, Monic,” Emily teased.

Monic rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. I’m married, unlike you. But they say he’s young. Dangerous.”

Emily shrugged, walking toward the door. “Then he’s just another hunter. Nothing more.”

“They say he played with the beast first,” Monic pressed, following her out, “and then cut it down with a single strike.”

Emily froze mid-step. The memory burned sharp. That kind of precision… could it be… Cid?

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Monic smirked.

“Monic, stop.” Emily’s voice was sharp, her eyes flashing. “It’s been five years. It can’t be him.”

Before Monic could answer, another girl came rushing down the stairs. “Emily!”

Emily turned. “Glory, what is it?”

“There’s a man waiting for you at the gates. The guards wouldn’t let him in. He has a little girl with him—she called you aunt.”

Emily’s heart jolted. “What…?” Her lips trembled. “It can’t be…”

Without another word, she ran, Monic’s teasing voice fading behind her.

At the academy gates, Cid stood tall, Nyx in his arms. The years had carved his features sharper, his eyes deeper—but Emily knew him the moment she saw him.

“Father,” Nyx said, tugging his coat. “Look, she looks like you!”

Cid’s throat tightened. He saw his sister, but in her face he also saw their mother. His vision blurred with tears. “Emy…”

Emily’s breath caught. “Cid.” Her eyes brimmed as she stepped closer.

“I’m sorry, Emy,” Cid said, voice breaking. “Sorry it took me five years.”

“You… you look so different,” she whispered, reaching out.

Before she could close the distance, a boy rushed forward from the gate, flames flickering in his fists. “Emily, get away from him!”

“Charls,” she gasped.

“Who are you?” Charls demanded, glaring at Cid.

“Just a hunter,” Cid replied, setting Nyx gently on the ground.

Charls snapped. “I don’t know what tricks you’re playing, but she belongs with us.”

“She is not your sister,” Cid said firmly. His voice was low, steady, like iron. “I don’t know what Birks told everyone. But Emily, you and I all know the truth.”

Charls roared, lunging with a fist wreathed in fire. Cid slipped aside with ease. Charls swung again—only to freeze as Emily’s voice cut through the courtyard.

“Charls, stop!” she screamed, clutching Nyx close. Her eyes burned with anger and desperation. “Tell Father I’ll be home late!”

Before Charls could react, she grabbed Cid’s hand and pulled him from the academy.

Away from the crowd, Cid lifted Nyx back into his arms.

“Father, I was worried you’d get hurt,” Nyx whispered, hugging him.

Cid kissed her forehead, then looked at Emily. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Emy…”

“It’s really you,” she said, rushing forward. She wrapped her arms around him, her sobs muffled against his chest.

“Yes, Emy. It’s me.” His hand cradled the back of her head. “And this time—I’m not leaving.”

He kissed her hair, breathing her in, as though trying to make up for five lost years. Then he pulled back, his voice gentler. “Will you come home with me? Have dinner with my wife and daughters?”

Emily blinked. “You… you have a wife? And children?”

“Yes!” Nyx piped up proudly. “I’m the oldest. And I have two sisters—and more are coming!”

Emily laughed through her tears, patting Nyx’s head. “Then of course I’ll come.”

On the way back, Emily’s voice was quieter but searching. “Cid… did you really defeat the Celestial Time?”

“No,” he said honestly. “I only defeated him. It was me and the King of Camelot who killed him.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “King… of Camelot?”

Cid told her what had happened, the battles, the Red Moon, the curses. By the time he finished, they had reached the iron gates of his home.

“Welcome,” Cid said, holding the door open.

“Welcome,” Fenrona’s voice called from the kitchen, the smell of broth thick in the air.

Adel and Dalin peeked from behind the doorframe, their eyes wide. “Are you Aunt Emily?” they asked in unison.

Emily knelt, smiling. “Yes. And you must be my nieces.”

Cid set Nyx down, then went to Fenrona, kissing her cheek. “How are you, honey?”

“Fine. Dinner’s ready,” she said, though her eyes studied Emily carefully.

“So, you’re the unfortunate woman who married my brother?” Emily teased with a faint grin.

“That’s me,” Fenrona said without missing a beat.

“Girls,” Cid called, clapping his hands. “Come sit.”

“Papa, can I sit on you again?” Adel asked, holding up her arms.

“Yes. Come here.” He lifted her into his lap.

The table was set. Steam curled from bowls of noodle soup.

Emily blinked. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” Fenrona said, placing plates down. “The same soup he made yesterday. He said it was your mother’s recipe. I thought if you were coming, I’d make it too.”

Emily’s eyes softened, her throat tightening. She sat beside her brother, and for the first time in years, the weight she carried seemed lighter.

They ate together, laughter rising between bites, stories shared until the night grew deep.

Later, outside under the starlight, Emily hugged him again.

“You sure you need to go tonight?” Cid asked, reluctant.

“Yes,” she said softly. “But I’ll be fine. I’m not a child anymore.”

He pulled her close. “If you need anything, I’ll be here. Always.”

“I know.” She hugged him tightly once more, then turned away.

Cid stood in the doorway, watching her until she disappeared into the dark streets of the capital. When he stepped back inside, Fenrona was waiting, her hand reaching for his.

The girls were already heading upstairs, sleepy from the long day.

“Let’s go, love,” Fenrona said, her tail brushing his leg. “I’m tired.”

Cid laced his fingers with hers. “Then let’s rest. Tomorrow will bring its own battles.”

Together, they ascended the stairs, leaving the fire to burn low.