Village life

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the orphanage's small windows, casting streaks of golden light across the well-worn wooden floors. The faint chirping of birds accompanied the sounds of soft footsteps and sleepy murmurs as the children stirred. Tomas was the first to appear, rubbing his eyes and stretching before stepping into the hallway with an air of authority that belied his nine years. He glanced back at the room he had just left, sighing audibly as Ellie's voice rang out.

"Don't touch that! It's mine!" Ellie's protests were as sharp as they were frequent.

Mira emerged a moment later, clutching a doll that had clearly been the source of the squabble. "I wasn't touching it," she muttered under her breath, her reflexive step backward narrowly avoiding Tomas' outstretched arm.

"Can't you two go one morning without fighting?" Tomas asked, crossing his arms. Despite his stern tone, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Lera's soft voice cut through the growing argument as she stepped into the hallway. "Breakfast will be ready soon. Mira, Ellie, why don't you help set the table?" She crouched to Mira's level and gave her a reassuring smile. "And leave the doll on your bed for now."

The girls exchanged a glance but didn't argue. Mira darted toward the dining area with surprising agility for her age, her steps light and precise as if she might trip but never did. Ellie hesitated, clutching a spoon she had taken from the kitchen earlier, and gave Tomas a quick poke with it before skipping off after Mira.

Tomas shook his head. "They're impossible."

"You're doing a good job keeping them in line," Lera replied, ruffling his hair lightly before he could move away. "Now go help Greaves with the firewood."

Tomas rolled his eyes but obeyed, stepping outside where Greaves was already stacking fresh logs by the kitchen entrance. Greaves handed him a smaller axe, and Tomas set to work with a surprising amount of focus and precision for his age.

---

Inside, Lera moved to the nursery, where the five babies were beginning to stir. Sparks was the first to wake, her dark curls catching the morning light. When Lera picked her up, Sparks' small hand wrapped tightly around her thumb, her grip almost startling in its strength.

"Well, aren't you eager to hold on," Lera murmured, smiling. Sparks responded with a soft coo, her wide eyes fixed on the flickering lantern by the wall.

As Lera rocked her, she noticed Zara slowly opening her golden eyes. The baby seemed to exude calm, her presence quieting the others as they shifted and stretched. Lera reached over to gently stroke Zara's silvery-gold hair, marveling at how serene she always seemed.

Ox let out a small, grumbling sound as he shifted, his greenish hue faint but noticeable. Even at this age, he felt solid in her arms, his little hands gripping tightly when she held him. She couldn't help but chuckle softly. "You're going to grow up strong, aren't you?"

Cross, lying beside Ox, stirred suddenly. His eyes darted toward the door before it opened, as if sensing Tomas entering with a fresh bundle of kindling.

"How do they all seem so... connected?" Lera muttered, half to herself, as she placed Zara back in the cradle. Alistair, nestled in the center, remained still but not unnoticed. His quiet presence felt grounding, as though the others naturally turned toward him even in sleep.

Greaves stepped inside, brushing off his hands. "They're different," he said simply, his tone carrying an unspoken understanding. "And the older they get, the more noticeable it'll become."

Lera sighed, glancing back at the cradle. "Their marks haven't shown since last night, but I can't help feeling like... like something's waiting to happen. And their heritage, Greaves—how do we protect them when the world might not accept them?"

He leaned against the doorframe, his expression thoughtful. "The village is peaceful enough, and most folks don't ask questions. But you're right. Mixed bloods don't always have an easy path. If anyone notices... well, we'll have to be careful."

"They're just children," Lera said, her voice catching slightly. "How can anyone see them as anything else?"

Greaves didn't answer immediately, his gaze shifting to Tomas, who was back outside helping Ellie carry a bucket of water. Tomas had a quiet determination, his movements precise as he corrected Ellie's clumsy grip. "The older kids—they're all showing signs of what they'll grow into. Tomas has the makings of a leader, Mira's quick as anything, Ellie's got a steady hand when she's not causing trouble. Even Finn's got his bursts of strength when he wants something."

"And these five?" Lera asked softly, her eyes returning to the babies.

"They're something else entirely," Greaves admitted. "We'll just have to raise them right and hope the world doesn't catch on too soon."

---

The village was bustling by the time Greaves reached the market square. Merchants called out to passing travelers, offering everything from fresh produce to hand-carved trinkets. A group of adventurers lounged near the guildhall, their laughter carrying over the hum of activity. The forge's steady clang provided a rhythmic backdrop as the blacksmith worked on repairing a wagon axle.

Greaves nodded to a passing guard, exchanging polite greetings before stopping at the general store. The shopkeeper greeted him warmly, chatting about the influx of travelers while packing supplies into a burlap sack. Greaves listened halfheartedly, his mind still on the children. He thanked the shopkeeper and stepped back into the sunlight, pausing briefly by the adventurer's guild. The notice board outside displayed the usual low-tier quests: clearing pests, gathering herbs, escorting merchants. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Back at the orphanage, Lera had gathered the older children for breakfast. Ellie was animatedly describing a "giant bird" she claimed to have seen in the woods, flapping her arms for emphasis. Finn rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, while Mira giggled behind her doll.

"Settle down," Lera called, her voice cutting through the chatter. "Finish your food before it gets cold."

Greaves entered just in time to catch Ellie stealing Finn's piece of bread. "Ellie!" he barked, making her freeze mid-bite. She sheepishly placed the bread back on Finn's plate, though not without sticking her tongue out at him first.

The laughter and noise of the children filled the room, a comforting sound that seemed to melt some of the tension in Lera's chest. As she sat by the cradle, watching the five infants sleeping peacefully, she felt a faint glimmer of hope.

"They'll be safe here," she said, her voice soft but certain.

"For now," Greaves replied, his eyes flickering between her and the children.

For the moment, the orphanage was warm and lively, and for Lera, that was enough.