War and Fortune 2.242

Viggo stopped in front of the door of his children's room and hit a couple of times —it's me— he said in a thick, cold voice. Today he wore the coat, jacket, scarf on his neck, pants, and leather boots, all in black to highlight his red hair. Nobleman's clothes looked silky with white embroidery on the edges.

—Go ahead, sir— said the wet nurse named Sofia.

Viggo opened the door and saw the wet nurse sitting next to the babies' crib. Rosewisse was in Midgar with Freya, Semiramis and Scheherezade doing business, Sakura, and Ana as adventurers. Tsubaki doing her first jobs as a master blacksmith and captain of the Hephaestus family. However, the wet nurse should not be alone with babies. Viggo heard a door closing on the left side of the room and saw his aunt Mikoto dressed in a light brown kimono.

—Hello, auntie, I came to see my children— said Viggo coldly.

—I see, how do you feel?— asked Mikoto as she approached. She stopped in front of Viggo, extended her hand to her neck, and Viggo held it firmly to her —pull your hand away— she said. Viggo did so and his aunt touched his neck. The muscles felt like they were made of steel. Not for the training, but for the complete containment of the whole body, ready for combat at any time.

—Viggo, son— Mikoto said, worried about him —you must find a way to relax. It's not good for you to spend all your time tense, it will hurt you—

—You already told me that, auntie— Viggo replied, keeping a cold expression.

—I know, and I will repeat it as many times as necessary. Talk to your father, he might know some way for you to rest. If you don't want to try medication, sleep with your wives. I don't think they will refuse—

—I would be like a machine— Viggo said, looking down and sighing —I can't relax. I haven't slept for two days and the other day I was able to get some sleep, but it was two hours. I...—

—Well, enough, let's leave it there. I don't want you to feel bad— Mikoto said, stroked his cheek as if he were his own son and continued —come to see Bell and Uriel. Maybe you could try painting them. Rosewisse told us the other day, before she left, that you had ideas of portraying children—

—Yes, I think that's right— Viggo said, showing a small smile and feeling his whole-body sore.

—You could also try singing— Mikoto said —you have a nice voice, very manly, I'm sure you get the attention of children. Let me see, I will bring some tea, honey, and lemon to fine-tune your throat—

—Auntie, you don't need—

—No, it's necessary. Go, see the kids, I'll be right back—

Viggo saw his aunt walk to the door and leave to get what she promised. Viggo looked at the wet nurse sitting next to the cribs. He nodded and she lowered her head in an act of respect. Viggo walk to the cribs, both varnished wood, with a mattress and white sheets. Both babies slept in their own cribs. However, as a reflex act, as soon as Viggo approached, they opened their eyes. Bell on the left, with white hair and red eyes. Uriel on the right, closest to the wet nurse, with red hair and blue eyes.

Uriel opened his small mouth widely, letting out a big yawn. On the other hand, Bell looked at Viggo with wide-eyed and attentive eyes, as if he hadn't been sleeping before.

—What's wrong boy?— asked Viggo —you can't sleep either—

He approached Bell's crib and took him in his arms. Since Bell was small, he was able to carry it lying on his left arm. Then he went to Uriel's crib, who looked at him with a smile as she showed her gums. She moved her small arms in an effort to reach him.

—It looks like someone woke up with a lot of energy— Viggo said, bending down to grab her with his other arm.

—Sir, shall I help you?— asked the wet nurse, the humble woman with a headscarf and a white apron.

—Yes, Sofia, please—

Viggo took a step back, Sofia took Uriel and brought her closer to Viggo so that he could carry her on his right arm. Uriel blew with his mouth and with saliva produced balloons. She spoke to him in her own way producing simple sounds, but it seems that she wanted to tell him everything. She wouldn't shut up, to which Viggo smiled happily. On the other hand, Bell looked at Viggo calmly, his red eyes never leaving him.

Viggo was able to calm down for a moment. The struggle of the hundred and twenty days did not matter. The constant appearances of draugrs, elite draugrs. Ogres, trolls, dungeon dragons, minotaurs and other abominable creatures. It also does not matter the fact of getting tired of using touki, occupying soul strength or not having enough strength. It didn't matter that he slept only four hours and that, during the first two days, he almost died eaten by the draugrs that re-emerged from the arid land.

—Sofia— said Viggo, his voice tired and his eyes half closed —takes the children—

—Huh— said Sofia, she looked at Viggo's face and understood immediately. She took Uriel first and laid her in her crib and when she went to take Bell, she had to be faster than ever because Viggo was fainting. Sofia managed to snatch Bell and Viggo fell lying on the ground.

Viggo woke up in the afternoon, still lying on the floor of the babies' room, but on a thick blanket. At his feet he could see his aunt Mikoto, with dark hair, slanted eyes, and brown kimono, talking to the wet nurse Sofia. From the intensity of the light and the sound of the wind, he could tell that it was more than five o'clock in the afternoon. He had slept more than five hours straight, which could be considered a great achievement within this week.

Mikoto saw Viggo looking sideways and looking for something with his eyes. She got up, approached Viggo and knelt beside him in seiza, very carefully and elegantly —How do you feel, Viggo?— she asked.

—Much better, auntie— Viggo said in a sleepy voice. His vision was blurry, he felt a headache and dizzy, all at the same time.

—Let me make you tea— Mikoto said, she got up from the floor and Viggo lay down staring at the white ceiling of the room. The cold of the ground felt refreshing while the breeze coming in through the window was warm.

A few minutes later Mikoto brought him tea with lemon and honey. Viggo lay back and Mikoto brought the cup to him so that little by little he could drink.

The citrus aspect of the lemon woke up Viggo, his head still hurt, but he felt less sleepy. Once he finished drinking, he sat on the floor and looked up at the cribs, where the two little ones should be sleeping.

Viggo tried to stand up with difficulty, but he could not and Mikoto had to help him. Once he was standing, he walked to the cribs where the two babies slept in complete calm covered by a thin sheet. Uriel moved her small lips like a flower button while babbling something. On the other hand, Bell slept with his arms and legs extended in all directions, as if he were completely free.

—I think we'll leave the songs for another day— Viggo said quietly and with a smile on his lips.

—It's the best— Mikoto said —but you could bring a lectern, a canvas, and your paintings—

—I don't think so, aunt— replied Viggo —the paintings have a very strong aroma, they can be toxic to children—

—In that case, it's a shame—

—But this image is more than enough— said Viggo —with this I can already paint something. I could name the future painting "innocence and peace"—

—Yes, I think it would be the perfect name—

Viggo took a deep breath, said goodbye to Mikoto and Sofia. He walked out of the room and walked slowly down the hall. The light was dimming in the hallway, revealing the furniture on the left side opaquer and the flowers of the day in sadder vases. On the right side of Viggo the windows showed a sun hiding in the distance. Nothing to do with what happened in the painted picture of the nightmare. That's how Viggo named the painted picture where every day he was fighting until he fell asleep.

—What do you want me to learn from these experiences?— asked Viggo with a certain mental fatigue —it makes no sense for me to spend in solitude and meditating for a hundred and twenty days to only realize all the things, I fear. It makes no sense other than training to spend one hundred and twenty days fighting with a minimum rest. Where is kung fu, grandpa? I only see chaos, loneliness, and fear in all this.

Viggo stopped, let out a sigh and approached to the left to lean on a white wall, next to a natural varnished piece of furniture. He leaned against the wall, let himself slide until he felt seated and stood there, with his right leg extended and his left one tied up and resting on his thigh. It was just Viggo, tired, overwhelmed, with a lot of questions and fears. Viggo let out a sigh, sat in a lotus position. He had spent one hundred and twenty days in the same posture, so for him it was as natural as breathing. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.

Xiao appeared at this time and smiled kindly seeing Viggo meditating in a small space, hidden behind the furniture. From his expression and the dark circles on his eyelids, he looked really overwhelmed.

—I see you're getting the hang of it— Xiao said in a good mood, as if he wanted to convey his tranquility to Viggo. It seems that succeed because the latter smiled, opened his eyes, and looked at him. The old man sat in a lotus position in front of him.

—How do you feel?— asked Xiao.

Viggo looked at the old man, large entrances, long gray hair, arranged in a high bun on the high back of the neck. He was wearing a black robe with buttons that went down his neck, traveled down his right collarbone and down the right side. What stood out most was a wide and friendly belly.

—Lately everyone asks me the same thing: How am I?... — Viggo said with an awkward smile — Confused?

—It's natural, you're just getting started— Xiao said —everything that is new different from what we did before confuses us, frustrates us, produces tension and fear. However, change is good, growth is complicated, but the result of what we seek to improve ourselves is always satisfying. Keep going, because once you reach the end of this first step, you will look back, smile, and think it was fun. Maybe now it seems difficult, but when you have overcome this initial step, you will understand that it was only that, a small step—

Viggo chuckled and replied –I'm already regretting looking for blissful enlightenment or kung fu, as my father used to say.

—I taught that word to your father, but the very shameless only dedicates himself to enjoyment. I'm always arguing with him: When will you attain kung fu if you don't take the time to perfect what you have? When will you get the supreme ability?—

Viggo let out a sigh and said —Maybe not the way everyone else does, Grandpa. That's Dad—

—Maybe, not everyone learns in the same way—