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“Slique!”
The dwarf looked up from the notes in front of him when he heard Kyborg’s panicked voice.
Slique was sitting outside in his little garden, enjoying the warm afternoon sun. His house in Boulderay wasn’t much, but it was his. He had bought it with the money he had earned as a travelling bard, though he still only performed in dark alleys, always hidden beneath a hood. And he liked it that way. Fame had never been something he truly wanted—not anymore. It was enough to know that his music was heard. And people still threw money at him, enough that he could live comfortably. Most of it went to helping GumGum run the orphanage, but he had kept just enough to afford this modest home.
It wasn’t grand or luxurious, but it was warm and cosy. A real home. It was filled with gifts from his friends: art from GumGum, books from Mudd, songs and trinkets from Bart’s travels, and small inside jokes from Spectril, like the tomato plant sitting in his kitchen. But most of all, it was filled with things from Kyborg. Ever since he had learned how deep Slique’s depression had run, the elf had made it a habit to bring him gifts to cheer him up. The gifts were thoughtful, but what mattered most was knowing how much Kyborg cared. They had become more than friends—they were brothers.
And maybe that was what truly mattered now. His guilt for everything he had done to Ürbloom, for the lies that had built the Infinights, had faded. Not entirely, but mostly. Because he had accepted that he couldn’t change the past. He had done his best to atone. And, most importantly, he had learned that doing good shouldn’t be about making up for the past—it should be about building a better future. That was why he helped GumGum with the orphanage. Not because he needed to make amends, but because it felt right. Because those children deserved a better start in life than he had ever gotten.
His own childhood had been filled with dreams that had been laughed at. He had never wanted to be a miner, but his father had made it clear that he would never be anything else. He had worked tirelessly to prove him wrong, to be something greater. And for a time, he had believed he had succeeded. He had been Slique the Symphonious, a legend, a hero. But it had all been built on a lie. And in the end, he had become the disappointment his father had always expected him to be.
Or at least, that was how it had felt for a long time.
Now? Now he had built something real. Maybe he wasn’t famous. Maybe he wasn’t a hero. But he had a home. He had friends who truly cared about him. He had a purpose that didn’t rely on deception. And that was more than he had ever thought he would get.
So hearing the elf’s panicked voice now sent a wave of concern through him. Had someone died? Had Entropa returned? Had Dia revealed something alarming? Was the city under attack?
The possibilities rushed through his mind. If Entropa was back, Kyborg wouldn’t be the only one panicking—he would have gathered the whole team already. If Dia had spoken, it had to be something dire; she rarely interfered unless things were truly catastrophic. And if the city was under siege, Slique would already hear the sounds of battle. But none of those things seemed to be happening. Instead, there was just Kyborg, running towards him, breathless, looking like his entire world was crumbling.
Still, Slique quickly scanned the cityscape beyond his small garden, needing to be sure there was no attack. Boulderay was as peaceful as ever, but Kyborg’s expression said otherwise. The elf was nearly panting, which was rare. That meant he had run straight here, not stopping for anything.
“What’s wrong?” Slique asked, standing up, his heart pounding a little faster.
Kyborg blinked, realising how worried he must have sounded.
“Oh, sorry, man. No attack!” he reassured quickly.
Slique exhaled in relief but didn’t let his guard down just yet. “Is someone dead?”
“No, everyone’s alive—as far as I know. And if I don’t know, they’re not important enough for me to be informed,” Kyborg said, plopping down into the chair opposite Slique, now feeling a little foolish.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Kyborg took a deep breath, as if steadying himself before speaking again.
“Lynn Merr is pregnant!”
Slique blinked. That was not what he had expected.
“Is she sick? Is something wrong?”
“No, she’s fine… I think. I hope so?” Kyborg hesitated, his fingers tightening into his tunic as his thoughts raced. “Wait, what if she’s not? Can pregnant women get sick all the time? Could dragons? What if this is dangerous for her? What if—”
Slique recognised the signs of a spiralling mind immediately. The way Kyborg’s breath came faster, the way he clutched at his shirt like he was trying to ground himself—Slique knew these symptoms all too well. He had felt them in his own body too many times before, his thoughts slipping into a downward spiral, impossible to pull away from.
“Kyborg,” he said firmly, but the elf didn’t seem to hear him. His hands were trembling slightly, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling at a pace that was becoming worrying.
Slique grabbed his lute without thinking, letting his fingers pluck a slow, calming melody as he hummed along. His voice was steady and soothing, the kind of melody meant to anchor someone back to reality. It was an old song, one he had used to calm himself on the worst nights, when the guilt and fear had felt too heavy to carry. It took a few minutes, but eventually, Kyborg’s breathing started to slow. His eyes flickered toward Slique, and he let out a shuddering exhale.
“Thanks, man,” Kyborg muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “What was that?”
“A panic attack,” Slique said simply. “Like the ones I used to have. Let’s take a deep breath and talk about what made you spiral, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you panic like that before.”
Kyborg exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to be a father, Slique! I never thought this would happen!”
Slique raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me someone explained the birds and the bees to you, Kyborg?”
“Of course!” the elf huffed. “I just never thought of myself as a dad! It wasn’t like we were trying for a baby. Lynn said it was a really small chance of it happening, her being a dragon and all. But now it’s happening, and I don’t know what to do!”
“How is she taking it?”
“She’s happy. She’s looking forward to being a mum.”
“And you don’t want a child?”
“What? No, I want a child! I just don’t know how to do this! It’s not like I had any good role models growing up!” Kyborg ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “My dad was awesome, but he died when I was young. I barely remember him—just that he was cool, like my mum. But that’s not enough to teach me how to be a father.”
“You do have good role models around you now,” Slique pointed out. “Bart has Gillian and Will. GumGum finally adopted Terry officially, and he’s helped hundreds of kids at the orphanage. Mudd acts like a guardian angel to Gumbo’s kids—probably doing a better job than a lot of normal parents would. And I know you and Spectril aren’t as close, but he and Andi have three kids…”
“He doesn’t count,” Kyborg interrupted with a huff. “He has a literal goddess helping him raise his kids.”
That made Slique smile, but he didn’t argue.
“Even Brink is a father. And if he can manage, so can you.”
That got a reaction. Kyborg’s lips pressed together in a thin line, and then he gave a single, begrudging nod. Slique smiled again, knowing that even though Kyborg and Brink were friends now, the elf would never let himself be outdone by him—not in anything.
“So you have plenty of people to talk to about this,” Slique continued. “And yet, you came to me—one of the few who doesn’t have kids.”
“Of course I came to you!” Kyborg said, as if the answer was obvious. “You’re my best friend. My brother. I feel like I can talk to you about anything. The others are my family, but you… you’re different.”
The words warmed Slique’s heart. It wasn’t often that Kyborg got sentimental, but when he did, it always hit deep. And Slique felt the same way. Kyborg had been the one to pull him out of his darkest days, the one who had helped him forgive himself and find his way forward again. Their friendship had only grown stronger with time, and hearing Kyborg put it into words meant more than he could say.
“You may want to talk to Lynn Merr about this,” Slique said after a moment.
“Yes, of course. But I don’t want to worry her.” Kyborg sighed, rubbing his temples. “She’s so excited, and she’s not panicking at all.”
Slique gave him a knowing look. “Do you know that for a fact, or are you just assuming? How do you know she isn’t over at Hops’ place right now, panicking just as much as you?”
That made Kyborg pause.
His mind raced. He had been so focused on his own panic that he hadn’t even considered that Lynn Merr might be feeling the same way. What if she was worried but just hiding it? What if she didn’t want to burden him with her fears, just like he didn’t want to burden her? Oh Dia, what if he had been blind to what she was going through?
“Kyborg,” Slique’s voice was calm but firm, pulling him back before he could spiral any further. “You’re doing it again.”
Kyborg exhaled sharply, forcing himself to meet his friend’s gaze. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise to me,” Slique said gently. “I just pointed it out to spare you the stress.”
“But what do I do?” Kyborg asked, his voice tight with uncertainty. “What if she is panicking? What if she’s not as calm as I think? What if I talk to her and she’s scared, and that makes me panic even more? This isn’t good—”
“Do a backflip.”
Kyborg blinked. “What?”
“Do a backflip,” Slique repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Still confused, Kyborg stood up and flipped through the air, landing with practised ease. He turned to Slique, waiting for an explanation.
“Do another one.”
Slique kept his face neutral, and Kyborg frowned but obeyed, flipping again. And then again. And again.
It wasn’t until he actually started feeling tired that he stopped, dropping into his chair with a breathless laugh. “Okay, I have no idea what that was about, but I do feel a little better.”
Slique smirked. “Good. Now that you’ve burnt off some of that nervous energy and emptied your mind a bit, let’s talk about this calmly.”
Kyborg sighed, feeling a little ridiculous. He had just learnt that his wife was pregnant a few hours ago, and he was already spiralling. He had run straight to Slique’s house the moment he could, unable to stop himself.
Not that he had fled when Lynn Merr told him. No, he had been overjoyed at first—really, genuinely happy. He had kissed her, spun her around, and laughed at the sheer wonder of it. Lynn had smiled, clearly amused by his excitement, and said she wanted to tell Hops. That had seemed like a good idea at the time, and he had told her he’d go tell Slique.
He hadn’t even considered telling anyone else.
Sure, GumGum and Mudd lived a bit farther away—not so far that it would be difficult to visit, but far enough that they weren’t his first thought. Bart lived closer, yet Kyborg hadn’t even thought to go to him. No, Slique was the only one who came to mind, the only one he had wanted to tell first. And at first, it had been to spread the good news.
But somewhere along the way, his thoughts had shifted. His joy had started twisting into uncertainty, then fear, then full-blown panic. By the time he reached Slique’s house, he was running, his heart hammering like war drums in his chest.
He felt so stupid. He was Kyborg the Mighty! He had fought monsters, defeated enemies, and survived against impossible odds. And yet the idea of being a father was somehow the thing that broke him.
“I’m just afraid I’m going to mess this up,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. “My parents raised me well—for the few years they were around. But after that, I had to figure things out on my own. And I’m not exactly the best role model. Sure, I can hit almost any target, but being a well-adjusted, responsible, intelligent adult? That’s… not really my thing.”
“You’re better than you think,” Slique said with a small smile.
“That doesn’t mean much here! The others are all well-adjusted parents. Their kids love me because I’m the cool Uncle Kyborg—the one who does action surges and shoots arrows that glow. But that’s not enough to be a father. I don’t want Lynn to end up being the ‘boring’ parent just because I can’t get my act together!”
Slique’s expression softened. “You’ve helped me through so much over the years. You’ve listened to me, supported me, and been there when I needed someone to remind me who I am. That’s what it means to be a parent. I’m sure there’s more to it, but I wouldn’t know—I don’t have kids. And besides, the others’ kids don’t think I’m the cool uncle.”
“No, they think you’re the mysterious and awesome one,” Kyborg grumbled. “Stupid magic users. I can’t compete with you and Bart—you can make them float or put them in time loops just to mess with them. And don’t even get me started on Mudd, who cheats by turning into a freaking animal.”
“You’re not bitter about GumGum’s abilities?”
Kyborg scoffed. “It’s almost impossible to be bitter about GumGum. He’s too innocent and childlike. Everyone loves him. I mean, for Dia’s sake, he made friends with the Tabulians while they were in prison.”
Slique chuckled. “And you’re afraid Dia will smite you if you say anything mean about him?”
“That too! His mum is a literal goddess—so unfair.”
Slique’s laughter grew, and for a moment, Kyborg felt a little lighter. But then the weight of his thoughts returned.
“Back to the problem,” Slique said.
“Yes, please,” Kyborg answered, almost pleading. “Give me a magical solution to this.”
“I don’t have one,” Slique admitted. “But talking about it makes you more aware of your fears—and that’s the first step. You have good memories of your parents, right? Start there.”
Kyborg exhaled slowly. “My mum taught us to fight, so we could defend ourselves against Quadron. She was a fantastic warrior. But I don’t want to raise my kid to be a soldier. There’s no need for that. And my dad…” His voice trailed off for a moment. “He supported my mum in every way he could. He never had a problem doing what people considered ‘unmanly’ things. I remember him taking care of me and my sister, running the household while my mum fought.”
Slique nodded. “Is that the kind of father you want to be?”
“Me and Lynn already split things evenly, so I don’t think that’ll be an issue. But…” Kyborg hesitated, looking down at his hands. “I don’t remember the small things. The details. The way they handled problems. The little moments that made them great parents. And that sucks, okay? My parents were amazing, and they died when I was just a kid, while everyone else still has theirs.”
His words came out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. He wasn’t resentful—he was happy that his friends had their parents. But it felt so unfair. They could go to them for advice, lean on them for support. And he had… no one.
Or at least, it felt that way sometimes.
Kyborg exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I just wish I could call my mum sometimes, you know?”
Without hesitation, Slique walked over and wrapped him in a hug. They hadn’t always been able to understand each other like this—hadn’t always been this close. It had taken time. Kyborg had to let go of his stubborn hate, and Slique had to confront the parts of himself he had tried to ignore. But despite the obstacles, despite everything that had made it difficult, they had built something real. A friendship forged in fire, in hardship, in growth. And now, sometimes, words weren’t necessary.
“I know,” Slique murmured. “I used to wish the same thing after my mother died. There were days I wished she had survived instead of my father.”
Kyborg stiffened slightly, caught off guard by the admission. “I forgot you lost your mum when you were young too. Sorry, man. I shouldn’t complain about it.”
Slique pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s fine. You don’t have to compare our grief. Losing a parent hurts, no matter what. And sometimes, it’s just easier to share those feelings with your best friend and brother.” Then, before Kyborg could get too caught up in his emotions, Slique jabbed him in the side.
Kyborg flinched violently, his eyes widening before he let out an undignified laugh, squirming away. “Hey! Cut that out!”
Slique smirked. “I still can’t believe someone as tough as you has a ticklish spot right over the ribs.”
Kyborg shot him a glare but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips. It was such a sibling thing to do—playful, teasing, but full of warmth. It reminded him how much they had grown, how much they had overcome to reach this point. They had been best friends for a long time now, but somewhere along the way, it had become something more. Stronger. Unshakable.
His expression softened. “There are just so many things I wish I could talk to her about. Things I never got to ask. The small things I feel like everyone else just... knows.”
Slique nodded knowingly. “Like how to make that one dish? Or how to ask someone on a date without sounding like an idiot? Or how to deal with a problem that feels impossible?”
Kyborg let out a breath, relieved that Slique understood. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“I know that feeling,” Slique admitted. “Me and Spectril bonded over it a lot when we were younger. We used to ask each other the dumbest things—stuff that seemed obvious to everyone else but felt like gaps in our knowledge. Things we were too embarrassed to ask anyone else.”
Kyborg crossed his arms. “At least you had someone.”
There wasn’t bitterness in his voice—not really. But it still stung. He had grown up without the guidance of his parents, without anyone to turn to in the moments that mattered most. There had been so many milestones, so many days where their absence had been a hollow ache in his chest. His wedding. The day he realised he loved Lynn. And now this.
He wished—more than anything—that he could tell them. That he could see the pride in his mother’s eyes, or hear his father’s deep, warm laugh.
Lynn had lost her family too, but it wasn’t the same. Her parents had passed from old age, after long, full lives. She had mourned them, but she had also had them there for so many of life’s big moments. She had been able to share her joys and sorrows with them, lean on them when she needed to. Kyborg had never had that chance. His parents had been ripped from him before he had even begun to understand how much he would need them.
But when he looked at Slique, he knew he wasn’t alone.
His friend met his gaze with that quiet understanding, the kind that came from someone who had walked the same road of grief. Slique didn’t need to say anything—Kyborg could see it in his eyes. The same longing. The same ache. The same wish that things had been different.
It meant more than Kyborg could put into words.
“Thanks, man,” he said finally, his voice rough but sincere. “I mean it.”
Slique smiled. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad we have each other.”
Kyborg huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Me too.”
It was strange to think about how much had changed between them. Once upon a time, Kyborg had been so caught up in his own ego that he had hated Slique for no real reason. He had let that resentment fester, let it cloud his judgment. And yet, Slique had still forgiven him. He had given Kyborg the chance to be better, to be the kind of person who deserved this friendship.
And now, Slique was more than just a friend.
He was family.
Then Kyborg sighed.
“Guess there’s no way to know how to handle this, is there?”
The panic wasn’t really gone—not at all. He had just stopped thinking about it for the moment.
“I can help you if you want to know what not to do,” Slique said with a sad smile.
“Actually, that may help—if you want to talk about it. I know everything with your father isn’t exactly something you like to think about.” Kyborg hesitated for a second before adding, “Also, I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Me too,” Slique admitted without hesitation.
There had been a time when all he wanted was his father’s approval. He had worked so hard for it, done everything he thought might make his father proud. But no matter how hard he tried, it had never mattered. Even when he became Slique the Symphonious—a name spoken with admiration, a bard celebrated across the land—his father had only seen a failure. A pretentious fool who had abandoned the mines, abandoned his duty.
“It wasn’t just disappointment,” Slique said, voice calm but sharp. “He hated me. I could hear it in every word, see it in his eyes. He thought I was an embarrassment. He called me useless, spoiled, weak. He took every opportunity to tear me down. If I got the highest grade in a subject, he found a flaw. If I worked myself to exhaustion in the mines, I was still lazy in his eyes. It was like he was looking for reasons to resent me. And I think, deep down, he did.”
Kyborg clenched his jaw, fists tightening at his sides.
“And when the cave-in happened,” Slique continued, “I thought… I don’t know. Maybe he’d be relieved that I made it out alive. That he’d realise, for just one second, that he could have lost me forever. But he wasn’t relieved. He was bitter. Bitter that the accident took his job, bitter that some of his friends died. I don’t think it even crossed his mind that I could have been buried under that rubble forever. Or if it did… maybe he didn’t care.”
Kyborg inhaled sharply, grip tightening around his tunic. “I hate him,” he muttered under his breath. “I hate him so much, Slique.”
Slique just gave him a tired smile. “So do I.”
He exhaled slowly and changed the subject.
“My mother, though… she was different.” His voice softened. “She always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be. That I was special. Not because of talent or intelligence, but because of the way I cared. She said my heart was my greatest strength.”
“She was right,” Kyborg said immediately.
Slique gave a small smile. “She used to sing to me at night. Not just lullabies, but real songs. Beautiful ones, ones that made me dream. I think that’s why I fell in love with music in the first place. Because of her.”
Kyborg grinned. “That’s wholesome, man. I always think of my mum when I do backflips. She was the best at them! She could outflip anyone.”
“They gave us lovely memories,” Slique said warmly.
Kyborg nodded. “Yeah… and that’s another thing. You know I won’t care if my kid is soft. As long as they’re happy, they can be whatever they want.”
Slique smirked. “So you’ve already got better parenting instincts than my father ever did.”
Kyborg rolled his eyes. “Not a high bar, Slique.”
Slique let out a breath and, reluctantly, returned to the memories he had pushed aside.
“In the end, my father had the audacity to write me letters, complaining that I never visited, that I never cared about him.” His voice hardened. “He never saw himself as the problem. Never acknowledged the pain he caused. He just expected me to come back. Like nothing had ever happened.”
Kyborg could feel his own anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I hate that man,” he muttered. “He doesn’t deserve to be remembered.”
Slique nodded, his expression unreadable. “His words laid the foundation for my self-hate. For the feeling of never being good enough. That’s why I so easily got swept up in Felix and Luce’s lie. I wanted to be something. I wanted to be someone good.”
Kyborg didn’t even think before pulling him into a tight hug. He knew how much Slique had struggled with believing he was worth something. And Kyborg was so, so glad that he had been able to help him see the truth. That he was good. That he was a fantastic bard and an even better person. But a part of Kyborg still wished he had realised it sooner, so that he hadn’t spent so much time making Slique feel even worse.
Slique let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he pulled back. “And I know you won’t do any of those things, Kyborg. You may be scared, but you won’t be that bad.”
“Dia, no! That I can promise,” Kyborg declared. “I don’t know how to be a parent, but I do know not to bully my own kid! I’m not that stupid!”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Slique teased.
Kyborg groaned. “Oh, shut up.”
They both smiled at each other before falling into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun set.
Slique found himself reflecting on how lucky he was—to have friends who had helped him see past his father’s lies. To have people who had reminded him that he was worth so much more, that his past didn’t define him, and that he was loved.
Kyborg, on the other hand, was still grappling with the reality that he was about to become a father. He felt far from ready, and the fear still gnawed at him. But at least he knew one thing for certain—he would never be as bad as Slique’s father. And somehow, that alone made him feel a little better.
"I need to talk to Lynn," Kyborg suddenly said.
Slique gave him an approving smile. "All grown up—talking about your problems instead of doing a backflip or trying to shoot your arrow at them."
"Shooting my wife would be a ridiculous way to handle things. And she likes the backflips. Might’ve been what got us into this mess to begin with."
"That is all I need to know," Slique said quickly, giving him a stern look.
Kyborg laughed. "I’ll keep it family-friendly for you."
Slique rolled his eyes but smiled as Kyborg pulled him into a warm hug.
"Thanks for listening, for calming me down, and for, you know… trying to give me advice."
"Anytime, Kyborg. You know that."
Slique watched as Kyborg headed back towards Infinights HQ before gathering his own notes. He had spent enough time outside—it was time to head in.
"Should I be hurt that you told Slique first? And that I had to find out you’re going to be a father through your wife?" Bart asked as Kyborg approached Infinights HQ. His tone was dramatic, but the teasing smile gave him away.
"You told GumGum first," Kyborg shot back in his defence.
Bart laughed. "Fair enough. But still, to think that you would turn to Slique of all people first. If someone had told me when we first met him that you two would be friends, I’d have never believed it."
"It’s because I was an idiot back then."
"You still are," Bart said with a smirk, "but we love you anyway."
Kyborg rolled his eyes. "So what do you actually want? Are you here to pester me about going to Slique first?"
"Nah, I’m just glad you two are as close as you are. You really needed each other." Bart grinned. "But I did come to say congratulations."
He stepped in and hugged Kyborg, and Kyborg hugged him back. Maybe they didn’t have the same bond he and Slique had, but Bart was still family.
"I would have told you next, you know," Kyborg muttered as they pulled away.
"I know. I just wanted to mess with you a little," Bart said before grinning. "And look at little Kydelius, all grown up—soon to be a dad."
"Hey, there are still nine months before that happens."
Bart waved a hand. "Oh, trust me, those months fly by. Feels like an eternity at first, then one day you wake up, and—bam!—twins."
Twins.
Oh Dia, what if they had twins?
Kyborg hadn’t even considered that possibility. That was not good.
"You okay there, buddy?" Bart asked, tilting his head at him.
"Just imagining two of me," Kyborg said, forcing a grin. "The horror."
Bart laughed. "Please, we’re all used to dealing with one of you. We will survive. But it might be a learning curve—you figuring out how to hang out with yourself." He grinned. "Let’s just hope they take after Lynn."
"Yes. Let’s definitely hope for that."
"When do you plan to tell the others? So I know when to start planning your party?"
"I’ll write to them tonight or tomorrow," Kyborg admitted.
"Great! Then I’ll start preparing for a party in a few weeks."
"We are not using headquarters again. It was a mess last time."
"Boooo, you’re so boring! I miss when Dr. Ahem was in charge—he wasn’t afraid of trashing the place."
"Because he didn’t have to clean it."
"Then get Atten and Dant to do it."
"They aren’t our servants. Wow, Bart, never thought you’d be pro-slavery," Kyborg teased.
"They were already cleaning the first time we met them! They refused to stop, so I’m pretty sure they like it."
Kyborg raised an eyebrow. "The hamster was running in the wheel that powered the electric axes the first time we saw him too. Do you think he liked it?"
"We will never know," Bart said with a mock sigh, "because you killed him."
"He was evil. I stand by that."
"Whatever makes you sleep better," Bart shook his head, laughing. "Just remind me to never get your kid a hamster."
He reached under his cape and pulled out a bottle, holding it up with a grin. "It’s a good year."
"Then it’s wasted on me. I know nothing about wine."
"Then have Slique educate you."
"He would know," Kyborg admitted, smirking as he took the bottle. "But I’ll drink this with all of you."
"You better," Bart said, waving as he started down the path towards the tavern.
"This is so exciting!" GumGum shouted happily. He loved kids and knew how much joy they could bring. And he knew Kyborg would be a great dad. The kids at the orphanage adored him, and he was always so kind and gentle with them when he visited.
"I can't wait for the kid to annoy you as much as you’ve annoyed us. I hope it learns to do a backflip and other stupid things really early," Mudd chuckled over his cup of coffee, teasing him but also being completely serious.
Kyborg had been such a dork and a pain back in the day. Mudd loved him, of course, but there had been plenty of moments where he had wanted to knock some sense into him. So it would only be fair if the kid gave him some trouble in return.
"I hope Gumbo's kids start eating your books again," Kyborg shot back, making Mudd sigh.
That was one of the few things his grandkids had done that he could never forgive. His precious books! He didn’t blame them, but he still never let them into the library again.
"I hope it gets wings," Bart said with a grin. "Imagine all the ridiculous things it could do then."
That was something Kyborg hadn’t even considered. Of course, it was a possibility—Lynn was a dragon, after all—but how in Dia’s name was he supposed to handle that? His chest tightened, panic starting to creep in again.
Then a familiar hand rested on his arm.
Kyborg looked down and met Slique’s eyes. The dwarf gave him a calm smile before glancing towards Lynn.
And just like that, Kyborg felt himself steady. Wings might be a problem for him, but they wouldn’t be a problem for her. And he knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t leave him to figure it out alone. They were in this together.
They had already talked about it—about how overwhelmed he felt—but she had reassured him time and time again. She was worried too, but she knew they would get through it together. And they had amazing friends who would support them if they needed it.
That had made all the difference.
Raising a child wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t something impossible. It wasn’t like fighting Entropa again.
"Well, if it gets wings, I’ll definitely have the most awesome kid here!" Kyborg said, flashing a grin.
"If it acts like you, it’ll have an ego big enough to take off without wings," Brink teased.
"Jealous that your kid won’t be as great as mine?" Kyborg shot back.
And just like that, he and Brink were locked in a heated debate over whose kid would be more awesome.
The others just rolled their eyes, used to their nonsense by now.
"Slique?"
The dwarf turned at the sound of Lynn Merr’s voice, giving her a warm smile. "Can I talk to you?"
"Is something wrong?" He studied her face as they stepped out onto the tavern’s balcony.
"No," she reassured him. "I just wanted to thank you for everything you do for Kyborg. I know he’s had a few panic attacks, and you’ve been able to calm him down when you’re there. And if you aren’t there, well… he’s started doing backflips. Apparently, that was your idea?"
"It empties his mind," Slique said with a small shrug. "And of course, he’s my best friend. I’ll always help him however I can."
"I know that." She smiled, something warm and deeply grateful in her eyes. "And I really, truly appreciate it. He hasn’t told the others just how worried he is, but he is handling it better now."
"You reassuring him that you’re doing this together helps him a lot," Slique said. "He has so much faith in you."
"And I have just as much faith in him," she said without hesitation. "I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. But I also know that I wouldn’t be able to handle him without your help."
She glanced over at Kyborg, a soft smile on her lips, full of admiration for the man she had chosen to spend her life with.
"If he ever becomes too much, send him over," Slique said, shaking his head fondly as he looked at his best friend—his brother—before turning back to Lynn.
He loved her the way you love a brother’s wife. She was perfect for Kyborg. She was kind, wise, full of life. But she also wasn’t afraid to match his energy, to challenge him, to stand her ground when needed.
Not everyone could handle Kyborg’s antics.
But she could.
And that made Slique happier than he could ever put into words.
"Be careful with what you say," Lynn smirked at the dwarf, making Slique chuckle.
"I can always freeze him in time if he becomes too much."
"Let’s hope it never comes to that," Lynn laughed before waving him goodbye and walking over to Hops, who was already excitedly talking about baby clothes with her best friend.
Slique turned his gaze towards the starry sky, savouring a few minutes of calm. He could still hear the commotion inside, and sometimes, he felt too old for it. Normally, when things got overwhelming, he would leave Boulderay for a small tour, but he wouldn’t do that now—not when Kyborg needed him. Instead, he had to take moments like this.
Kyborg’s visits never became too much, but with the others staying in town for a week now—and GumGum dropping by every day with Bart, and sometimes Mudd—it was starting to feel a little exhausting. GumGum just wanted to tell him every amazing story he had experienced since they last saw each other. Bart had been floating the idea of writing a song for the baby. Mudd was, at least, more relaxed than the other two, preferring to eat cookies and read in silence, but still, there was always someone there.
Their visits were definitely better than when they had tried to cheer him up in the past—those times had drained his energy completely. But now, they actually asked about things he cared about, did things they both enjoyed. He loved spending time with them, especially GumGum and Mudd, whom he saw less often than Bart. Yet, they all had so much more energy than he did, and sometimes, he just needed a moment to himself.
"Stupid Brink Tussler," Kyborg muttered as he stepped out onto the balcony, pulling Slique from his thoughts. "He thinks his kid is better than mine."
"Are you surprised? Sometimes, it’s hard to say which one of you has the bigger ego," Slique teased.
"I at least have a reason for it—I saved the world!"
"He helped."
"Yes, helped, but he didn’t do it."
"Like me," Slique joked.
Kyborg immediately shook his head. "No, you and Smarsh were incredible. That was one of the coolest things ever, watching you charge into battle riding him. It was like something out of a legend!"
Slique grinned. "Yeah, well, you weren’t too bad yourself. Kind of hard to miss the guy pulling off crazy flips while shooting arrows midair. Not everyone could make that look effortless."
Kyborg smirked. "Well, I was the best."
Slique rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. But for real, I am glad we got the chance to fight together."
Kyborg let that sit for a moment before speaking again. "I told Smarsh about the kid. He was so excited! You should have seen him. He almost crushed part of the forest wagging his tail. He said he’ll let the kid ride him anytime they want."
Slique let out a laugh. "That sounds like him."
"He’s gonna be the best, just like you."
"You’re really laying it on thick tonight," Slique chuckled, shaking his head. "But thanks, Kyborg. You know that goes both ways, right?"
Kyborg gave him a knowing smile. "Yeah, I know."
The two of them stood there for a moment, watching over their hometown.
"Also, how are you feeling? I haven’t even asked. All the focus has been on me lately," Kyborg said.
"I’m longing for a small tour, but I’ll stay here until the kid is born. And as long as you need me. Gives me time to write new songs, at least."
"I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay for my sake."
"I don’t have to—I want to."
Kyborg smiled. "Then I’m lucky to have you."
Slique simply nodded.
And together, they turned back towards the party.
Slique entered the Infinights headquarters, moving quickly. Lynn had sent him a message over the sending stone, practically begging him to come over.
Kyborg is going insane.
That was all he needed to hear before hurrying to his old home. He had grabbed his lute on the way, already suspecting that Kyborg was having a panic attack. If Lynn couldn’t get through to him, then music might. It wouldn’t be the first time.
The headquarters had been his home for years, a place filled with battles, laughter, and some of the most important friendships of his life. There had been a time when he felt like he didn’t belong here, like his past and the lies he had carried made him unworthy of the friendships he had built. But he didn’t feel that way anymore. He had made peace with it all, with himself.
And yet, he still couldn’t live here.
Kyborg had offered—insisted, even—that he could move back in if he wanted to. That it didn’t matter that he wasn’t officially an Infinight anymore, that this would always be his home. And Slique had appreciated it more than he could say. But he had turned it down.
Not because of guilt. Not because he felt unwelcome.
Because of Dr Ahem.
Slique had made peace with everything that had happened. Ahem had been his friend—one of his closest friends—and losing him had left a hole in his heart that had never quite healed. He still visited the grave from time to time, sat there and talked to him as if he could still hear, still tease him for something ridiculous.
But living here, in these halls where Ahem’s voice once rang out, where his laughter used to shake the walls—it would have been too much.
When he visited, he could hold on to the good memories and leave with warmth in his heart. If he lived here, those memories would turn to echoes, a constant reminder of what was lost.
And Slique missed him. He admitted it freely. Ahem had been brilliant, kind, and a damn good friend. And Slique wished more than anything that he was still here.
“He’s in the library,” Lynn said as she met Slique at the entrance.
She was in her seventh month now—not that you could tell at a glance. She still carried herself with the same elegance as always. She complained that her back hurt, that her clothes didn’t fit right, but she still looked fantastic. Hops had grumbled about it more than once, claiming she had looked like a cow when she was pregnant and that it was completely unfair. Lynn had only laughed, insisting that her friend was exaggerating.
Slique had wisely chosen to stay out of that conversation.
“What’s the problem?” he asked, getting straight to the point.
“He’s trying to read every book he can. He’s panicking again.” Lynn sighed. “I told him to do backflips, but I can’t get through to him this time.”
That made Slique pause.
“He’s reading?” Kyborg wasn’t the type to pick up a book without a reason.
“Yes, he’s been reading a few baby books lately. It was really sweet—he wanted to learn a few things. But then Bart asked him a question earlier. It was innocent, he didn’t mean anything by it. But it made Kyborg realise he didn’t know the answer. And now he’s convinced he knows nothing. So he’s trying to read everything.”
Slique pinched the bridge of his nose. That sounded exactly like Kyborg.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he assured her.
Lynn let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you. I’m going to visit Hops while you deal with this.”
Slique nodded before heading towards the library, his lute slung across his back, already bracing himself for whatever mess Kyborg had worked himself into.
When Slique opened the door, he was met with utter chaos. The library was in complete disarray—books strewn everywhere, some tossed aside, others left open with pages ripped out and plastered to the walls. And in the centre of it all was Kyborg, frantically darting between books and scattered notes, muttering to himself as he scribbled down thoughts at a frantic pace.
Slique couldn’t make out what he was saying, and he wasn’t even sure if any of it made sense to anyone but Kyborg himself. The elf looked frantic, pulling at his own hair before suddenly grabbing his bow and firing an arrow at a page stuck to the wall.
Slique barely had time to react before another arrow flew past him. He cursed under his breath and quickly took cover behind a turned-over table. It was like Kyborg didn’t even see him—his entire world had narrowed to the books, the scattered pages, and the overwhelming weight of everything he was trying to process.
This wasn’t just a panic attack. This was a full meltdown.
Slique understood now what Lynn had meant by insane, but he admired her for not panicking. She had faith—faith in him to bring Kyborg back, and faith in her husband that he wouldn’t completely lose himself to this. Yeah, that woman was perfect for Kyborg.
“Kyborg!” Slique called out, trying to snap him out of it. Another arrow shot across the room.
He wasn’t scared, not of Kyborg, and he knew he could stop the arrows with his magic if he had to. But he’d rather not resort to force—this needed to be handled carefully.
He had suspected something like this when he made his way to the headquarters, which was why he had brought his lute with him. Lynn wouldn’t have called him if she could talk Kyborg through it herself, and Slique had learned by now that sometimes music worked better than words.
Without wasting another moment, he settled onto the floor, pulled his lute into his lap, and started playing.
He had written this song in pieces over time, some verses forming in his mind after Kyborg’s past panic attacks. He didn’t want to just sing anything—he wanted Kyborg to have his own song. A song meant for him.
So, with a steady, warm voice, he began to sing the song he had named: Brother, I’m Here
“Breathe in, breathe out, just take your time,
You don’t have to climb this hill alone.
The weight you carry, let some fall,
Brother, you don’t have to hold it all.
I’m here, I’m here, just like before,
No need to stand when you can’t anymore.
The road is long, but I won’t stray,
Brother, I’m here—I’ll stay.
Storms will rise, and skies may break,
But we’ve stood strong through worse before.
Lean on me, just for a while,
You don’t have to fake that smile.
I’m here, I’m here, just like before,
No need to stand when you can’t anymore.
The road is long, but I won’t stray,
Brother, I’m here—I’ll stay.”
He repeated the song three times before Kyborg finally spoke.
“Slique?”
“Yeah?”
“Where are you?”
“Behind the table,” Slique answered. “You started shooting arrows, and I didn’t want to get hit—or have to use magic on you.”
Kyborg’s voice was suddenly full of guilt, and he rushed over, scanning the room until he saw Slique sitting on the floor, lute still in hand, looking up at him with a small smile. Kyborg knelt at his side at once, hugging him.
“I’m fine,” Slique assured him. “You couldn’t even take me down in Ürbloom—what makes you think a few arrows would do the trick?” he teased.
Kyborg let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe not, but I never meant to fire at you.” His eyes widened in sudden horror. “Oh Dia—Lynn! I didn’t hurt her, did I?”
“She’s fine,” Slique said calmly. “She sent me a message and then went to see Hops.”
"But did I shoot at her?"
"Don't think so. She didn’t mention it, and I’m pretty sure she would have warned me if you did."
"Thank Dia." Kyborg exhaled in relief. "I would never have forgiven myself if I hurt either of you!"
"Well… you didn’t really aim at me," Slique said with a smirk. "You were too busy trying to take down the books."
Kyborg paused, finally taking in the absolute chaos around him. Pages scattered, books flung open, some pinned to the walls with arrows. He winced. "Uh… yeah. That… uh, might’ve gotten out of hand."
Slique crossed his arms. "Care to tell me what exactly was going through your head?"
"I… I don’t really know," Kyborg admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "At first, I just wanted to check the answer to Bart’s question. But then I realised I didn’t know enough to understand the answer, so I grabbed another book. And then another. And another. And suddenly, all of them were calling me an idiot and telling me how unprepared I was. How I didn’t know anything, how I was going to fail as a father—"
Slique raised a brow. "Alright, let’s backtrack a bit. What was the question?"
Kyborg hesitated. "...He asked how I’d handle the kid’s first teeth."
"And?"
"And I realised I don’t even know when a kid gets their first teeth! And then I realised I didn’t know what to do when they did! What if they start screaming and I don’t know why? What if they’re in pain and I can’t fix it? What if I do something wrong?"
Slique let out a short laugh—not mocking, but the kind of laugh you give a friend who says something ridiculous but doesn’t realise how ridiculous it sounds. "Kyborg. You do realise not knowing about teething isn’t going to get your kid killed, right?"
Kyborg groaned. "I know that! But I don’t want to be useless either! I want to give them the best life possible, not be some clueless idiot who just wings it."
Slique clapped a hand on Kyborg’s shoulder. "Listen. You're gonna screw up. We all do. But guess what? The kid isn't gonna know the difference. They’re not gonna be keeping score. And if something important comes up, someone will tell you. Or, you know, you can ask."
Kyborg exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. "...I really don’t want them to turn out like me."
Slique tilted his head. "And what’s wrong with you?"
"You know what I mean," Kyborg said, groaning again. "I want them to be smarter than me. More... normal."
Slique smirked. "Well, considering they’re not being raised by themselves in the forest I think you’re already ahead of the curve."
Kyborg let out a small chuckle at that. "...Yeah. I guess so."
Slique nudged him. "And let’s be real, even if the kid is like you, the world could always use another great hero."
Kyborg snorted. "More like another headache."
"That too," Slique agreed.
There was a pause, and then Kyborg glanced at him again, more hesitant this time. "I, uh... I’ve never heard that song before."
Slique shrugged. "I wrote it for you."
Kyborg blinked. "You wrote it? For me?"
"Of course," Slique said simply. "I wanted to give you something that actually helps in moments like this."
Kyborg stared at him, expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, he grinned. "No one's ever written me a song before. And especially not... y’know, one that actually means something."
Slique raised an eyebrow. "What, you mean you never got a cheesy ballad about your legendary heroism?"
"Oh, plenty of those," Kyborg admitted. "But this? This is different. It’s not about some over-the-top epic story. It’s just..." He struggled to find the words. "...It’s real."
Slique softened. "Well, you deserve it."
Kyborg looked down at his hands, then back up at him. "...Would you sing it again?"
Slique smiled. "Absolutely."
Kyborg gave a small nod, then glanced around at the disaster surrounding them. "...And, uh. After that, you mind helping me clean up this mess?"
Slique chuckled. "I figured you’d ask."
With that, he picked up his lute again and started playing, the warm melody filling the chaotic library like a quiet reassurance that everything was going to be okay.
Kyborg smiled, feeling like he was over the moon. He couldn’t believe it—he was holding his baby girl. Lynn lay in the bed beside him, looking exhausted but radiant, and he smiled just as brightly at her.
She had been incredible through all of this. He had always known she was strong, but watching her today had been something else entirely. He was in awe of her.
And somehow, he had stayed calm. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised—when it really mattered, when it was life or death, he had always been able to focus. But this had been different. This had been something he had no control over, something he had feared for months. And yet, the moment he saw her, saw both of them, there had been no room for panic. Only happiness.
The girl in his arms had soft, light blue skin, a perfect mix of his and Lynn’s. Wisps of blonde hair curled at the top of her head, and just above them, two tiny blue horns peeked through. A tail curled gently around her, and when he ran his hand carefully down her back, he could feel the small bumps where wings would one day grow. Lynn had told him it would take years before she’d be able to fly. That didn’t matter. She was perfect.
A knock at the door made both parents glance up, and Kyborg called out for them to enter. Hops and Slique stepped in, grinning at their best friends.
Hops was practically bouncing on her heels, and the second she caught sight of the baby, she gasped and rushed to Lynn’s bedside. “I am so happy for you!” she gushed, practically vibrating with excitement.
Lynn gave her a tired but warm smile. “Thank you.” Then she smirked. “But remind me—why did you do this twice?”
Hops scoffed. “Well, my babies don’t have scales or tails.”
“Oh, so now you’re just jealous,” Lynn teased.
“Listen, if I had the option—”
The two of them quickly fell into laughter and conversation, comparing birth stories, teasing each other the way only best friends could. Slique watched them for a moment before turning towards Kyborg.
Kyborg had already started walking toward him, the baby still cradled protectively in his arms. He stopped in front of his friend, his grin wide and proud.
Slique raised an eyebrow. “So, how are you feeling?”
“Proud,” Kyborg said immediately. “Of them both.”
Slique nodded, glancing towards Lynn before looking back at him. “I’m sure you did great too.”
Kyborg let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “I didn’t panic. That’s all that matters. She did the rest.” He glanced down at his daughter again, his voice quieter. “And look at her. She’s beautiful.”
Slique smiled. “She is. You’ll be chasing off suitors for years.”
Kyborg snorted. “As long as it isn’t Brink’s brat, I don’t care—so long as they make her happy.”
Slique chuckled, shaking his head. He let Kyborg have his moment before finally asking, “So, have you decided on a name?”
“Everly Kristilena,” Kyborg said, glancing down at his daughter. “Kristilena is after my mother.”
Slique nodded in approval. “That’s a beautiful name.”
Kyborg didn’t look away from his daughter. “It fits her perfectly.”
Slique studied his friend carefully. Kyborg was always energetic, always moving, always doing something. But here, in this moment, he was still. Not because he was exhausted, not because he was distracted—but because nothing else mattered. His entire focus was on his daughter. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, because to him, she was.
Slique had never seen him like this before.
Kyborg exhaled slowly, as if pulling himself from his thoughts. Then he looked at Slique, his expression more serious. “Slique, I wanted to ask you something.”
Slique met his gaze. “Anything.”
Kyborg took a breath. “Would you be her godfather?”
Slique blinked, slightly caught off guard. “You do realise I’m older than you, and dwarves don’t live as long as elves or dragons, right?”
Kyborg chuckled. “You always go on about how old you are—I know. But that doesn’t matter. You’re not so old that you’re about to drop dead any minute.” He looked back down at Everly, his grip tightening just slightly. “And it’s more symbolic anyway. I don’t plan on ever leaving her. If I have to, I’ll fight my way out of hell itself to come back to her.”
Slique couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Of course you will,” he said, clapping a hand on Kyborg’s shoulder. But he could see Kyborg was still waiting for an answer.
So he nodded. “And I’ll be her godfather.”
Kyborg grinned. He glanced down at Everly and gently ran a hand over her tiny horns. “You hear that? If anything happens to me, Uncle Slique is going to look after you until I come back.”
Slique leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Hello, little one. It’s nice to finally meet you, Everly.”
Kyborg let out a quiet chuckle. “You will love him more than me, won’t you?”
Slique smirked, but before he could say anything, Kyborg shook his head and added, “You are going to win her love by cheating. Magic and music—that’s unfair.”
Slique let out a small laugh. “I’ll also be the one teaching you everything you need to know,” he said, addressing Everly now. “Everything that doesn’t involve backflips.”
Kyborg groaned, but the teasing between them had softened. They fell into a comfortable silence, both watching the newborn in his arms. Everly blinked up at them with big, curious eyes, before slowly, softly, smiling.
And just like that, Kyborg knew—his whole world had changed forever.
Everly had only been in the world for a few weeks when the others decided she needed a proper welcome. No child of the Infinights would go uncelebrated, and the moment Lynn and Kyborg felt ready, their friends wasted no time throwing a party in her honour.
They were just as excited to bring gifts as they were to meet her—not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Finding the perfect gift had become something of a competition among them, and Everly was no exception.
GumGum had given her a beautiful mobile made of flowers, carefully woven together. “My mother helped me make sure they won’t wither,” he said proudly.
Mudd had gifted her an enchanted book, one that would grow with her. At first, Lynn and Kyborg could fill out its pages with memories and milestones, but as she got older, the book would shift to hold new challenges, blank spaces for her thoughts, and places to store important moments. The pages would never run out.
Hops had made her a stuffed animal, soft and well-loved even before Everly got her hands on it, and Bart had placed an enchantment on it so that when hugged, it would play a lullaby he had written just for her. Lynn had rolled her eyes fondly at her best friend.
“I swear, you’re going to spoil her,” she teased, shaking her head.
Hops smirked. “Oh, I’m going to spoil her? That’s rich coming from you, considering how much my kids still expect gifts from their ‘Aunt Lynn’ every time you visit.”
Lynn only grinned, not even pretending to deny it.
Then there was Slique’s gift. It was a small amulet, the surface engraved with the notes of Everly’s song. She wouldn’t understand it yet, but Slique had pulled Kyborg aside to explain.
“It’s enchanted,” he had said. “If she’s ever in danger, it will activate—freezing her and everyone around her in time. No one will be able to touch her, no one will be able to take her, and it will hold until anyone of us reach her.”
Kyborg had barely been able to speak, his throat tightening as he looked at the delicate object in his hand. He would always worry about Everly. There would always be dangers he could not foresee. But knowing that, if all else failed, this would protect her—it meant more than he could put into words.
Slique, as always, had waved it off like it was nothing.
But it was not nothing.
Kyborg had hugged him so tightly that Slique nearly lost his balance, overwhelmed by how much it meant to his friend.
“We’ll always protect her,” Slique said quietly.
Kyborg only nodded, looking down at Everly, who was completely oblivious to the depth of love surrounding her. She just smiled up at them, safe and warm in her father’s arms.
Lynn chuckled softly, leaning against Kyborg’s side. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you actually went on a quest to eliminate every possible danger in Faeza.”
Kyborg grinned. “And if I do, I’m dragging Slique with me. Someone has to pay for the inns.”
Slique scoffed. “I’m not a bank, Kyborg. Get your own money.”
Yet Slique knew he would join Kyborg if he asked.
Lynn shook her head, laughing. She knew Kyborg was joking, but there was a part of her that believed he really would try if he thought it would keep Everly safe. That was just the kind of man he was—reckless, determined, and with a heart far too big for his own good.
Brink eventually wandered over, smirking. “Who would have thought Kyborg the Mighty would turn out to be this overprotective?”
He expected a quip back—some cocky retort about how he was still plenty mighty, thank you very much—but it never came.
Instead, Kyborg’s expression turned cold, and without a word, he walked away.
Brink frowned, confused. “Okay… he doesn’t always think I’m funny, but that was new. What did I do?”
Slique sighed, glancing at Brink. He was not irritated—Brink had not meant anything by it. Despite their constant bickering, he and Kyborg had grown closer over the years. They even worked together to keep Dr. Ahem’s memory alive.
“He’s just scared,” Slique said simply. “That something will happen to him and Lynn. That Everly will be left alone. Like he was.”
Brink’s smirk vanished in an instant. “Oh, crap,” he muttered. “I’m an idiot. I should have realised.”
Without another word, he hurried after Kyborg.
Slique watched as Kyborg stopped and turned, his shoulders tense as Brink caught up to him.
“I didn’t realise,” Brink said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Every parent gets overprotective, you know.”
“I just want her to be happy,” Kyborg admitted. “And I don’t want her to lose any of us.”
Brink nodded, his usual arrogance nowhere to be found. “That won’t happen. You know that.” He placed a hand on Kyborg’s arm. “I mean, your knuckleheads started as a joke, but you did save the world. And much as it pains me to say it, you’re actually good at it. Everly will be safe.”
Kyborg’s expression softened, and he let out a slow breath before finally nodding. “Thanks, Brink.”
Brink just shrugged as Kyborg turned and walked back to Lynn and Everly, this time with a smile.
Kyborg would do anything to keep his daughter safe. And he knew, without a doubt, that his friends would too. Just as he would do anything to protect their children.
“Uncle Slique!” Everly came running towards him the moment he stepped through the doors of the headquarters, Kyborg walking beside him.
“Hey, I’ve been gone too,” Kyborg teased, crossing his arms as his daughter barely spared him a glance. She stuck out her tongue playfully before reaching her arms up, already expecting Slique to pick her up.
Slique chuckled, scooping her into his arms with ease. He had only been away for a short tour, but he had met up with the Infinights in the last city by sheer coincidence. They had been there on a mission—some wizard attempting to blackmail the city into submission. Kyborg had practically begged Slique to join them, and in the end, he had given in. He didn’t miss being an Infinight, not really, but he couldn’t deny that there was something fun about working with his friends. Enough fun that he had mentioned it to the rest of their old crew when they talked through the advanced sending stones. Which made it possible for them to talk to each other freely for a few minutes.
That conversation had quickly spiralled into jokes about going on a grand adventure together, just for fun. Kyborg had warned them not to get any ideas about coming out of retirement, to which Spectril had immediately protested jokingly.
“Unfair that Slique gets to go with you!” he had said.
Kyborg had shrugged. “Perks of being my best friend—and the best of the Infinights. Besides, he’s the only one who lives nearby.”
Slique had muttered, “Good to know my service is only appreciated because I’m convenient. Hope I’ll still be your best friend if I ever move.”
Kyborg had snorted. “You’re stuck with the title, no matter where you go.”
That had earned laughter from the group before they ended the call.
After the wizard was dealt with, Slique decided to end his tour in the same city. He never did official tours anymore, so he had the freedom to come and go as he pleased. Of course, his friends had insisted that he do one last performance before they left, wanting to see one. He wasn’t mad about it, even when they had started singing along—badly. Bart had joined him on stage, eager as ever, while GumGum had taken to the drums, slightly offbeat but enthusiastic. It had only gone downhill from there when Kyborg and GumGum had started belting the lyrics loudly and off-key. Mudd, the wisest of them all, had simply tapped along, watching the chaos unfold.
Slique hadn’t minded. Some of the audience members might have, but that was their problem. These were his friends, his family. He would gladly have a performance ruined by them. Besides, they were heroes who had saved the world. If anyone had complaints, they could stand to be a little more grateful.
Afterwards, they had travelled home together—at least, he, Kyborg, and Bart had. GumGum and Mudd had split off halfway, promising to return for Everly’s birthday party.
Slique still couldn’t believe she was already turning three. She was as lively as ever, a whirlwind of energy that bounced between devouring books and practising with her toy bow. Or sneaking up on people.
Not that Slique had anything to do with that, of course. He would never admit to teaching her how to move silently. She was too young to fully grasp it, but she loved watching him demonstrate. Kyborg had his suspicions, but Slique denied everything, and the elf had no proof.
And, well, if Everly ever got the better of her father, Slique wouldn’t be too upset about it.
That was part of why she loved spending time with him—and why he loved it, too. So when she came running, he never hesitated to lift her up.
“Hello, little one,” he greeted, hugging her before snapping his fingers. Glowing music notes appeared in the air around them.
“Cheating,” Kyborg said, pretending to be offended.
If he was being honest, he always felt warm seeing Everly and Slique together. He had never expected or demanded that Slique take to his daughter, but he had—without hesitation. And Everly adored her Uncle Slique. She loved all her aunts and uncles, but Slique was different. So was Hops. They had been her parents’ best friends for so long, and it showed.
But Hops didn’t have magic.
“My song!” Everly demanded, grinning up at Slique.
“Is that how you ask?” Slique teased.
“Please?” she added quickly.
Slique chuckled and adjusted his hold on her before starting to sing.
“Everly, Everly, wild and free,
Sky above and endless sea.
Footsteps light, your heart beats strong,
The world is wide, so run along!
Climb the hills, chase the breeze,
Dance with rivers, talk to trees.
Every path, a tale untold,
Go and find your dreams in gold!
Everly, Everly, spread your wings,
Sing with thunder, laugh with kings.
When the road is steep and high,
Lift your gaze and touch the sky!
Let the echoes call your name,
Ride the tide and fan the flame.
Turn the page, the tale’s begun,
Run ahead and chase the sun!”
Everly giggled, singing along as best as she could, her little voice trailing behind the words. She always lit up when she heard her song, and Kyborg loved it too. He often sang it to her, though it never sounded quite as good. Not that Everly cared—she was just happy to hear it.
“Again!” she demanded.
Both men chuckled, starting the song again as they headed further inside.
Lynn was waiting in the hall, smiling as they entered, their voices filling the space—Kyborg more shouting than singing, Slique’s voice as beautiful as always, and Everly clapping along. Lynn shook her head fondly, watching the scene unfold. Their daughter had two of the greatest heroes wrapped around her tiny fingers, and she didn’t even realise it.
All she knew was that she was loved.
“More!” Everly grinned up at Slique, ready for another song.
“After dinner,” Lynn told her, leading them towards the dining room.
Everly nodded, content for now.
The two friends sat outside the headquarters in the garden, looking down over the city. Both were exhausted, but they enjoyed the quiet company of each other.
“I’m getting too old to chase after her,” Slique joked, rubbing his shoulder.
Kyborg snorted. “It’s only been three years, and you’re still alive. Stop complaining—you at least get to go home.”
“And thank Dia for that,” Slique said, glancing at Kyborg before they both broke into laughter.
Neither of them truly complained about Everly. She had an energy that could wear down even the strongest warriors, but the joy on her face when she played with them made every second worth it. She was fearless, always eager to take on new challenges, whether it was sneaking up on Slique (which he pretended not to notice sometimes) or running circles around Kyborg with boundless enthusiasm. She laughed easily, loved fully, and threw herself into every moment without hesitation.
And somehow, despite all that energy, she always listened when they told her it was time to stop. That, more than anything, was a blessing.
“A part of me wants her to stay this young forever,” Kyborg admitted after a moment.
“You’d regret that real fast,” Slique chuckled. “This stage wouldn’t be fun forever.”
“I know… but I don’t want her to grow up too fast.”
“Her parents are an elf and a dragon. She isn’t human, so she won’t grow up that fast.”
“Fast enough,” Kyborg muttered. He already knew he would miss every phase she outgrew.
“You just don’t want to hit another phase where you panic again,” Slique teased.
“I fear that every new phase will come with wings.”
“Lynn will let you know when that happens.”
“I know. It just scares me.”
“I’m aware,” Slique said, his voice softer now. “But we’ll handle it—just like we’ve handled everything else.”
Kyborg smiled, bright and sincere. “Thank you for always supporting me.”
“You do the same for me,” Slique replied without hesitation. “We’re family.”
“That we are. Love you, brother.”
“I love you too,” Slique said, smiling back.
For a long time, he had struggled to believe he truly belonged anywhere. That he was anything more than a liar wearing a mask. But sitting here, watching Kyborg—his best friend, his brother—he could see how much had changed. He wasn’t alone. He hadn’t been for a long time.
He had a home. A family. A niece who lit up every time she saw him, who ran to him with open arms and called his name like he was the most important person in the world. He had friends who never hesitated to remind him of his worth, who stood by him through every triumph and every mistake.
Slique let out a slow breath, leaning back against the bench.
Once, he had spent years searching for a place where he truly belonged. Now, he realised—he had found it a long time ago. And he was never letting it go.