Chapter 37 : Of Wine, Waves, and Wandering

The golden afternoon melted slowly into twilight.

The endless laughter of the beach gave way to the soft whisper of waves brushing the shore.

One by one, the families trickled back toward the grand seaside villa —children yawning, adults smiling, their skin warm from the sun.

Aren and Selene stood together on the wide balcony of their room,wine glasses in hand, the ocean stretching endlessly before them.

The evening breeze played gently with Selene's raven hair,catching strands of violet in the dying light.

Aren, leaning casually against the stone railing, sipped his wine.

He wore his infamous tropical shirt, the blue lei still draped lazily over his broad shoulders.The ridiculous hat sat abandoned nearby, mercifully forgotten.

They stood in companionable silence, watching the horizon burn gold and crimson.

Selene leaned her shoulder lightly into his.

"You smiled a lot today," she murmured, voice like a song in the dusk.

Aren hummed.

"Hard not to," he admitted. "They made it impossible."

She swirled the wine gently in her glass.

"And yet," she said, peeking up at him, "you carry other weights too."

Aren turned, studied her —his eternal wife, his anchor, the only one who had stood through every storm.

He set his glass down, captured her hand in his.

Quietly, honestly, he told her everything about the Council of Guardians:the heavenly threat, the fragile alliance, the decision to summon a Primordial Demon of Pride.The risks.The hopes.

Selene listened without interrupting, her violet eyes steady, sure.

When he finished, she squeezed his hand tightly.

"I will stand with you," she said simply.

Always.

Aren lifted her fingers to his lips, kissed them tenderly.

"I know."

They fell into bed later, no urgency between them —only warmth, the easy comfort of a lifetime built together.

Aren drifted to sleep with Selene's head resting against his chest,his arms curled protectively around her.

For now,for tonight,there was peace.

The Next Morning

Breakfast exploded into laughter before it even properly began.

Aren entered the grand dining room wearing what Mira had triumphantly chosen for him the previous night:

A neon-orange Hawaiian shirt patterned with tiny surfing kittens,loose white shorts,sandals strapped absurdly high up his calves,and — the crowning glory —a floppy bucket hat shaped like a pineapple.

Selene nearly dropped her tea in laughter.Sarah coughed into her napkin.

Lucien choked on his juice.

Lyra snapped a photo so fast the air cracked.

Even Darian, usually so composed, cracked a rare, horrified smile.

Mira and Elara threw their arms into the air triumphantly.

"You promised you'd wear it!" Mira shrieked joyfully.

"I honor my word," Aren said solemnly, adjusting his pineapple hat.

Alice, ever serious, tilted her head and said,"You look... heroic, Grandpa."

Aren bowed with mock-grandeur.

The breakfast itself was chaos.

Mira spilled syrup into Arthur's lap —Arthur responded by telekinetically floating her empty plate away in revenge, to Mira's indignant wails.

Lucien tried to balance pancakes on his forehead.

Darian's wife kept shaking her head slowly, as if wondering how her life had turned into this.

Lyra's husband began an impromptu competition to build the tallest pancake tower.

Aren, naturally, won —stacking seventeen pancakes in a perfectly aligned tower before Mira "accidentally" knocked it over with a suspiciously well-timed yawn.

When the plates were finally empty and the last cup of coffee sipped,Arthur clapped his hands.

"Today," he declared, "we brave the city!"

Cheers erupted.

Even Elara cracked a small, rare grin.

Beach City Adventures

The streets of the seaside city were alive —market stalls bursting with colors, spices, and laughter.

Handmade jewelry glinted under the sun.Street performers played flutes, danced, spun glowing fans.

The families moved through it like a small, chaotic army.

Aren was immediately seized by Mira and Alice, dragged into a shop filled with colorful beach hats.

They stacked no fewer than seven hats onto his head while the shopkeeper howled with laughter.

Elara insisted on buying a serious-looking "Captain's Compass,"which promptly led to Mira "borrowing" it and leading a doomed expedition into a souvenir stand.

Lucien attempted to haggle for ice cream using a "royal discount" —only to be charged double by a cheeky vendor who recognized him.

Lyra and her husband disappeared briefly into a stall selling questionable sunglasses,reappearing with matching neon heart-shaped shades they both wore proudly.

Selene and Sarah walked arm-in-arm, buying handcrafted necklaces and laughing quietly at the madness around them.

At one point, Aren was ambushed by a street vendor selling "World's Spiciest Dumplings."

Lucien, grinning wickedly, paid for Aren to "accept the challenge."

Aren, never one to back down, ate the entire dumpling in a single stoic bite.

The world stopped.

For exactly two seconds.

Then Aren's ears turned red.

Then purple.

Mira screamed in laughter.

Selene had to hand him a bottle of cold water while barely holding in her own giggles.

Arthur clapped him on the back sympathetically.

"Even lions," Arthur said solemnly, "fall to spice."

Dinner at the Seaside Restaurant

As the sun set, painting the sky in pink and lavender,they all gathered at a grand seaside restaurant with wide open terraces overlooking the endless blue.

The long table was laden with fresh seafood, fruits, and delicate dishes crafted with local spices.

Children chattered excitedly.

Adults sipped wine and leaned back in their chairs, smiling.

Aren, still wearing his kitten-surfing shirt (though mercifully minus most of the hats), sat contentedly with Mira asleep against his side.

Lyra toasted with Lucien — old friends, new memories.

Selene laughed with Sarah over stories of youthful mistakes.

Even Darian, usually so serious, relaxed into the evening with soft smiles and easy conversation.

And Aren thought,This.This is what strength is for.This is what I protect.Not glory.Not titles.But laughter.And love.