As they reached the front door the major took his leave and left them there in the silence. Toya couldn't get himself to say a word, his mind still processing all the things he just heard. He just stood there by his father's side looking up at the stars. Noticing this, his father said:
"You know whenever I don't know what to do I always look at the sky as if it has all the answers. It always feels so relaxing but in the end, it doesn't have all the answers. That's the same with humans when you need answers no one will hand them to you. You always have to find it yourself." His voice carried a weight that made it impossible to look away. It was at that moment Toya realized that this whole time he hadn't looked at him once. Now that he saw him there standing in the moonlight, he saw just how unwavering he was. His silver hair waved at the slightest breeze, shining like the moon itself. His eyes, blue as the clear ocean. He was a tall man with a mild but serious face.
"Toya promise me something…" Toya clenched his fists. Why does his father sound like he was saying goodbye? It made no sense. It wasn't like he was dying or something. Everything was normal, nothing would change. So why did it feel like it would? His father placed his hand on his head, patting it lightly - yet the weight felt unbearable.
"Live." A pause. "Live and find the truth."
As the silence became an agreement, they hadn't noticed the sound of the front door being opened. The shifting shadows behind Toya were the only warning he got - before an immense pain struck his skull. He stumbled forward, clutching his head, as his mother, Theia, stood behind him, arms crossed.
"I told you to get your father. What took you two so long? Dinner is getting cold."
Toya groaned, rubbing the sore spot. "It's not my fault Dad's so slow!" He shot his father an exasperated look. "And we had to say goodbye to the major!"
But Theia was already walking back inside, unfazed. Beside him, his father just grinned.
As they had gotten seated at the table, Theia brought in the food. It was beef stew - Toya's favorite. It was a stew made up of carrots, potatoes, some beans and of course beef. He didn't know why it was his favorite, maybe because it was the first meal he remembered eating, or because of the look his mother had when making it. All he could say was he was grateful. As the evening dragged on and minutes became hours, they sat there chatting. It had gotten late and it was time for him and his little sisters to go to bed.
"Big brother. Can you read me a bedtime story?" She looked at him with those big dog like eyes that made it close to impossible to deny. But still before saying anything he looked to his parents. They were both nodding. Toya let out a sigh "fine, but it won't be a long one." But his little sister didn't seem to bother with that. She was already jumping up and down out of sheer happiness. In that way I guess she is just like mom Toya thought only hearing what she wants to. She was a 6-year-old girl with black hair - just like her mother - and blue eyes - just like her father. She was a happy girl who didn't get mad often but when she did you would be thankful to stay away. She was also what you would call an extrovert, talking to everyone she sees. But as she ran there to her room to get a bedtime story Toya could only see her as a little kid obsessed with her big brother.
The story he read to her was a story about an ancient war between the humans and forgotten races, like elves, spirits, beast people and most importantly dragons. It was based on a real event that happened far in the past, but it sounded like it was a bit much. Toya didn't really get why her little sister loved the story so much it was so unrealistic. But even so the smile she put on whenever he told it was worth doing over and over again.
As the story was finished and Toya was about to leave the room his little sister asked him something. "Big brother? Do you think they still exist?" He knew what she meant by them but still it was a hard question. No one had seen any for decades, most fought they went extinct in the war, while others thought they were out there just waiting to strike.
"That depends. Do you want them to still exist?" The question was meant as a joke but his little sister didn't seem to get that.
"Yeah. I want to meet them all when I get older and be friends with them." At first silence filled the room but then Toya busted into laughter. He admired her for seeing them that way but still couldn't stop thinking about how silly it sounded.
"It not funny, big brother." Said she clearly irritated.
"Ohh I'm sorry, but you would get killed before you even said a word. And how do you plan on being friends with a, I don't know, 20-meter-high dragon." What his sister said made no sense to him. How could she want to be friends with them when so many people died because of them.
"That isn't a problem. I heard dragons can take on human shapes…" A pause. "And if they tried to kill me you would protect me right, big brother?" It was a myth that dragons could take on human shapes but even so where did she hear that. But it was the question that made him look her in the eyes.
"Of course, that's what a big brother is for after all." With this she smiled. "But I think it's a little over your bedtime right now. So go to bed." With this he left the room and headed to his own.
As Toya lay on his bed, staring at the wooden ceiling, his mind refused to rest. The room was quiet now—just the soft creaking of the house settling, the distant chirping of insects outside. Yet, in his head, voices still echoed.
Not his sister's this time.
"You still haven't told him, have you?" That was the major's voice. Stern. Unwavering.
"It's not the right time," his father had replied, his tone lower, quieter than usual.
Toya turned onto his side, frowning. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but when they took too long outside, he had gotten curious. The way his father spoke had been - different. Something about those words made Toya's stomach feel tight. What were they talking about? Was it about him? His grip tightened on the blanket. His father wasn't the type to keep secrets - at least, Toya had never thought so before. But now?
"He has a right to know." The major's voice was firm, almost frustrated. A long silence had followed. His father hadn't answered right away. And then, finally…
"When he's ready." Toya let out a slow breath, staring at the faint glow of his lantern. What was it they weren't telling him? And why did it feel like, no matter what it was, everything would change when he found out? He closed his eyes, but the words wouldn't leave him.
"He has a right to know." And now, more than ever, Toya wanted to know too.