Chapter 7: The Ravenclaw Twins at Five

The Ravenclaw mansion stood tall and wide, with halls long enough to race in and rooms big enough to get lost in—which the twins managed to do at least once a week.

From sunlit courtyards filled with singing birds to glittering chandeliers in the dining hall that Kael tried to swing from (once), everything about the house seemed like a dream.

Elyndra, their mother, moved through it all like a breeze through leaves. Her golden hair shimmered no matter the lighting. Her ears, elegantly pointed, peeked through the curls like a secret only elves knew. Her skin glowed faintly, smooth and light like polished moonstone. And when she walked, it wasn't really walking—it was gliding.

Kael was convinced she had magic just for that. "Mama's feet don't even touch the floor," he whispered once, and Mark, ever the partner-in-crime, bent down to check. "Hmm. Maybe she floats a little."

Mark and Kael were five now, and with that came a special kind of chaos—the delightful, exhausting, enchanting kind that only twins could create.

Mark had grown into a bright-eyed boy with thick black hair that always managed to stick up in the back, no matter how many times Mama tried to smooth it. He wasn't exactly quiet, not unless he was plotting.

While Kael lit up rooms with his booming voice and wild stories, Mark was more of a mischievous breeze—soft, swift, and always up to something. His warmth showed in little things: the way he held Mama's hand without being asked, or how he always saved the last cookie for Kael… unless he forgot.

Kael, on the other hand, had hair like spun sunlight, wild and untamable like him. His blue eyes sparkled with endless curiosity. He ran everywhere, usually shouting something like, "Onward, Captain Mark!" before crashing into the pantry door or nearly taking down a poor maid with a toy sword.

"Mamaaaaaa!" Kael shouted one morning, sliding across the polished marble floor in socks. "Mark put a frog in my shoe!"

"I did not!" Mark shouted from the stair railing. "It was a toad! Frogs are slimy, Kael. You're welcome!"

Elyndra sighed, but her eyes twinkled as she set down her embroidery. "Where did you even find a toad?"

"The fountain," Mark said innocently.

"The one in the east garden?" she asked.

"…No."

"Mark."

"The one in Papa's study."

Kael burst into laughter. "You mean the water sculpture?! That's not a fountain!"

"Well, it had water and a fish statue. Close enough."

Their father, Ardyn, entered at that exact moment, dressed in navy robes, looking every bit the noble human lord. His black hair was combed back, and his sharp blue eyes immediately narrowed at the puddle forming in front of his desk.

"Mark," he said, without looking.

"Yes, Papa?" Mark replied, grinning.

"…Why is there a frog on my chair?"

"Technically, a toad," Kael offered helpfully.

Ardyn blinked, then exhaled through his nose. "I was gone for five minutes."

"Toads work fast," Mark said with a straight face.

Later that afternoon, the twins were in the garden, sitting under the shade of a flowering tree, each with a pastry in hand. Elyndra sat nearby, braiding together garlands of fresh ivy and moonbells, her golden hair glowing in the sun.

Kael took a big bite and then mumbled, "Mama, is Papa a warrior or a prince?"

Elyndra looked up. "Why not both?"

"He's too serious to be a prince," Mark said, licking jam off his fingers. "But he does have the fancy clothes."

Kael nodded. "I'm gonna be a warrior prince! With a sword and a crown! And a flying horse!"

"You're scared of the chickens," Mark pointed out.

"They have evil eyes!" Kael said, shivering.

Elyndra laughed, a musical sound. "No flying horse until you stop hiding behind your brother when the rooster crows."

"Fair," Kael grumbled.

The boys helped their mother gather herbs later, although helping might've been a generous word. Kael spent most of the time chasing butterflies with a wooden spoon.

Mark picked herbs, but also secretly added mint leaves to Kael's pocket, which made him smell fresh for the rest of the day. Kael never noticed.

That evening, they sat curled up in Mama's lap while she told them stories in the soft glow of the fireplace. Her voice was like a warm blanket, and even Kael, who usually squirmed like he had ants in his boots, sat still.

"…and the two brothers used their bond to defeat the shadow beast," Elyndra said, brushing their hair with her fingers. "Because no force is stronger than love between those who share the same heart."

Mark looked up. "Do we share the same heart?"

Kael poked him. "Well, mine is bigger."

Mark rolled his eyes. "It's full of chicken fear."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

Elyndra pulled them both closer. "Enough, you two. If you argue again, I'll make you sort laundry with the housekeeper."

"…Even Papa's socks?" Kael whispered.

"Especially Papa's socks."

They froze.

Mark whispered, "Truce?"

"Truce," Kael agreed.

Later, when Papa joined them, Mark climbed into his lap and tugged his sleeve. "Papa, if you were a sword, what kind would you be?"

Ardyn raised a brow. "A… sword?"

Kael jumped in. "I'd be a fire sword! Or a lightning sword! With dragon wings!"

Mark tilted his head. "Papa would be a grumpy sword. Silent. But sharp."

Ardyn chuckled. "Then what would your Mama be?"

Both boys paused, then shouted in unison, "A sparkle sword!"

Elyndra lifted an eyebrow. "Sparkle?"

Mark nodded seriously. "But dangerous."

"Super dangerous," Kael agreed. "With flower bombs."

That night, tucked into their shared bed beneath a canopy of stars painted on the ceiling, Kael mumbled, "You'd tell me if there were monsters under the bed, right?"

Mark yawned. "There aren't. I checked."

"You always check."

"You always ask."

Kael grinned and rolled to face him. "We're the best team."

Mark smiled. "Yeah. But next time, you check under your own bed."

"Deal… but only if you fight the chickens tomorrow."

"Never happening."

They fell asleep with the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the window, their dreams filled with flying horses, sparkle swords, and a big mansion full of love and laughter.

In House Ravenclaw, every day was a new story. And the twins, chaotic and clever, were its favorite authors.