{Elarion, Age 3 – POV}
"The Beginning of Something Soft"
The morning light hadn't fully reached the corners of my study when Marcus arrived—right on time.
In one arm, he balanced a stack of thick, leather-bound books. In the other, a small basket wrapped with cloth, the scent of warm pastries curling into the air.
"Good morning, young master," he greeted as he placed both down carefully on the desk.
"Just Elarion," I said, pulling out my chair with a quiet scrape. "That title is unnecessary."
Marcus only smiled. "Very well then, Elarion. I hope you don't mind—I brought breakfast. My son insisted you try these."
"Your son?" I asked, raising a brow.
"Danny. He's five. Loud as thunder, soft as bread. He made a mess of our kitchen this morning, saying, 'Make sure Elarion eats this or I'll cry!'"
That… caught me off guard.
I looked away, tried to maintain my usual calm. But something tugged at the corner of my mouth.
A child I didn't even know cared enough to say that?
"Tell him," I said slowly, "that I accept his offering.
But why? He's never even met me."
Marcus chuckled. "I mentioned you once or twice. Since then, he keeps asking when he can meet you. Shall I bring him someday?"
I gave a small nod. "If he insists."
Formality, I told myself. Nothing more.
But Marcus… smiled. The kind of smile that didn't demand anything in return. He always had that in every timeline.
---
Our lessons began. I expected lectures—cold, precise, dull. But Marcus didn't speak at me. He spoke to me.
He told stories. Asked what I thought. Let me pause, question, and reshape the answers with my own logic.
He didn't treat me like a prodigy, or a noble, or a curiosity.
Just… like a boy.
Some memories from my past life had long blurred. They came back only in jagged shards. But that feeling—of being treated like a person—was new.
When I solved a difficult passage, he clapped softly. "Brilliant, Elarion. No three-year-olds would catch that."
"Of course," I muttered, looking away.
Still, I remembered the warmth in my chest. A feeling I hadn't asked for… but didn't reject.
---
Three days later, Marcus brought Danny.
The boy peeked out from behind his father's leg, clinging to a wooden rabbit whose ear was nearly chewed off.
"Hi! I'm Danny! You're really Elarion?" he asked, stepping forward with no hesitation. "You don't look mean like the rumors said!"
I blinked. "Rumors?"
"Yup! But you're tiny and pretty. Like a doll."
I stared at him. "…You're weird."
He beamed. "I get that a lot!" Then started running laps around my chair like some unhinged squirrel. Marcus sighed.
And from that day onward—they stayed.
---
Morning lessons, quiet training, and in between… Danny's "adventures."
He'd drag me outside to show me rocks shaped like dragons or leaves he swore were magic. At first, I resisted. It was childish. Wasteful. I didn't have time for this.
But then he'd tilt his head and grin, eyes bright and sincere. "You're always thinking with that stone face. Come on! You'll forget how to smile!"
Ridiculous.
And yet… sometimes, I followed.
We'd sit beneath trees while Marcus read aloud. Danny would pick flowers or chase bugs. I watched.
He'd lose every game of chess we played, but keep challenging me anyway.
Sometimes he'd fall asleep in the grass, his head resting against my arm like I was something warm. Safe.
Marcus never said anything.
He never tried to make me speak more. Never asked why I didn't smile. He just stayed.
A kind man. A bright child. And silence that didn't press in like iron bars.
I'd known cruelty, betrayal, coldness since before I could walk. I had never been allowed to rest.
But here, in this sun-dappled lull of time, I didn't need to defend myself.
I wasn't smiling yet. But I wasn't hiding, either.
---
One rainy afternoon, I sneezed during my personal training after the instructor left. My body—still small—had limits.
Marcus stepped in immediately, hand on my forehead.
"That's enough. Training's done."
"I'm fine—"
"You're human, Elarion. Even geniuses get colds."
He wrapped a thick blanket around my shoulders and lit the fireplace. Danny gave me honey-sweetened tea, then gently tucked his rabbit beside me "so I wouldn't feel lonely."
They left soon after.
I stared at that rabbit for a long time.
And that night, I let it stay beside me on the pillow.
---
I never admitted it aloud.
But in that quiet room, with the fireplace crackling softly, rain tapping at the windows, and the unfamiliar weight of kindness warming my chest…
I felt something I hadn't let myself feel in years.
Safe.
But of course not everyone is like Marcus
For example: My swordsmanship instructor