"It's all set! My sword is ready! I can't wait to start my adventure!" Alfie shouted with excitement, bursting out of the forge and running toward the house.
"Welcome back, Mama!" he called joyfully as he spotted Margaret returning from the garden.
Margaret smiled warmly at the sight of her energetic son. "How are you, Alfie? I hope you didn't hurt yourself while forging today."
"No, Mama, just a little scratch. Nothing serious," Alfie replied, beaming with pride.
"Let me see," she said, reaching for his hand.
"Here, Mama. I told you it's just a scratch," he said, showing her his palm before darting inside to join his brothers. "Eli! Marcus!"
"Big brother, are you done with the sword?" Elijah asked, rushing toward him.
"Yes, yes—it's all done! I can't wait to start my journey. Come, both of you, let's check it out!" Alfie grinned.
The three boys ran back into the forge, their laughter echoing.
"Here it is!" Alfie declared. "The Sword of Justice! I forged it myself. It's sharp—don't touch the edge!"
"Okay, big brother," Elijah said, reaching for it carefully.
Just then, Margaret appeared at the door. "Okay, boys, let's get dinner started. What do you say—want to help?"
"Of course, Mama! That sounds fun!" they all chorused, rushing out with cheerful grins.
"We'll start by washing the grains and slicing the beef. Alfie, you take care of the meat. Elijah and Marcus, help me with the grains. I'll get the rest ready," Margaret instructed.
"You can count on us, Mama!" Alfie declared, raising his fist in playful determination. "Let's begin our cooking adventure!"
"Yes, big brother!" Elijah and Marcus replied, following him into the house.
"Be careful with the knife," Margaret warned. "And after dinner, I'll give you something to put on that scratch."
"Yes, Mama!" Alfie's voice rang out from the kitchen.
Hours passed as the family worked together to prepare dinner. Laughter, clanking utensils, and the sizzle of the stove filled the air. But not everything was smooth.
"Mama, the beef pieces aren't the same! Mine is way smaller. Alfie did it on purpose!" Elijah complained, pouting.
"Not true!" Alfie replied. "I'm just not good with knives. Once I saw the sizes were uneven, I figured I'd take the big one. Hahaha!"
"You did do it on purpose!"
"Did not!"
"You did!"
"That's enough from both of you," Margaret scolded sharply. "Eat your food properly. Table manners, remember?"
"Sorry, Mama…" they both mumbled and turned back to their plates.
After dinner and cleaning up, the boys got ready for bed. Margaret tucked Marcus in, then noticed Alfie lingering at the doorway.
"Mama... is everything alright?" Alfie asked gently. "You've looked worried all day."
Margaret paused. "It's nothing, my boy. Go to bed early, and wake up early for more forging tomorrow, alright?"
"Okay, Mama. Goodnight," Alfie said, stepping inside. "Don't worry too much."
Margaret smiled faintly and ruffled his hair before he left. When the house quieted, she stepped outside and sat on the wooden bench beneath the stars. Midnight passed in silence. She gazed at the sky, heart aching with fear—especially since Elijah had told her about his dream. Something wasn't right.
Eventually, she went inside and lay down, trying to sleep.
Elsewhere, in the Mechan Kingdom
"Good morning, Captain. What's on the schedule today?" a young Shinra asked as he walked alongside Marco, the captain of the court.
"Nothing much, kid. Just keep training. Get stronger—maybe stronger than me," Marco replied casually as they approached the castle gates.
"That's impossible, Captain! You're the strongest Shinra in the kingdom. You could probably beat most of the special Darkside Knights from the other kingdoms too."
Marco chuckled. "Don't get ahead of yourself. Save your praise for the true legends—god-Slaying Knights. Now those are the ones you should admire."
The two entered the grand halls of the Mechan Kingdom castle and walked toward the ruler's chamber.
"Marco," the ruler greeted him from atop the steps. "Thanks for coming."
"This is my duty, Your Highness. I live to follow your orders," Marco replied, bowing respectfully.
"You're a rare one," the ruler said, stepping closer. "Other kingdoms are ruled by their special Darkside Knights. But you—you've always given your loyalty to the throne, even though you're the strongest among us."
"Let's not get sentimental this early, Your Highness," Marco replied dryly. "What's the mission?"
"Straight to the point. I like that. I received a report from the Kingdom of Bashen. A special Darkside Spirit was sighted. It wiped out half their troops and vanished. I'm sending you—along with this young Shinra—to investigate. We must uncover its motive before it returns. We can't wait for it to strike again."
Marco remained quiet.
"Marco?" the ruler asked. "You heard me, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did," Marco replied, still kneeling. "I just didn't expect this. I thought it would be another point-and-kill mission. But this... this feels different. Harder to accept."
"What are you trying to say?" the ruler asked.
A moment of silence.
"A faith-deciding conversation is about to unfold.