The town was a lively contrast to the tranquil silence of the farm. Even with the drought, Two Rivers Town was bustling, more recently, the influx of merchants hoping to secure any available high-quality goods.
Rowan's family store, Blacksun's Hearty Handcrafts stood proudly on the main thoroughfare, a two-story structure of well-kept dark oak with window boxes overflowing with his mother's signature, brilliantly colored flowers.
The moment they stepped through the heavy, carved oak door, the change in atmosphere was immediate. The cool air was perfect for this hot weather. The store was a collision of rich, woody and floral aromas. The front section of the store was a forest of meticulously crafted wood carvings, catching the sunbeams.
On one wall, a display of fantastical beasts sat proudly. Dragons of shimmering cherry wood coiled around pillars, their scales etched with such fine detail they seemed to ripple to life. Wyverns with menacing, open jaws stretched their wings across a massive cedar panel.
One breathtaking piece, a six-foot-tall sculpture of a Phoenix in flight, was painted in fiery crimsons and golds that looked like living flame, a masterpiece of both carving and color, obviously the work of Rowan's father, Bjorn Blacksun. Adjacent to them were powerful-looking Hydras carved from dark ebony, their serpentine heads snarling.
Across the central aisle, long, simple shelves displayed rows upon rows of soap. The colors were incredible.
Deep indigo squares infused with lavender, pale green bars scented with mint and rosemary, golden amber ovals smelling of citrus and honey, and, most prominently, the rich, white-pink swirl of his mother's rose-scented soap, which the girls had praised so highly.
The sheer volume of the bloom-scented bars gave the store a single, cohesive perfume. It was a complex, yet welcoming scent of a botanical garden's flower field.
A gentle hum of comments and business deals filled the space. Fancily dressed merchants from the capital, instantly identifiable by their expensive, slightly dusty robes and jewel adorned bodies, moved through the store, carefully selecting wooden serving platters, utility tools, and large baskets of scented soap.
Rowan spotted a few who looked familiar, the same types of high-end buyers he was planning to deal with.
Clara, a woman with the same kind of quiet, deep strength as her son, gave a warm, proprietary smile as she navigated the crowd of people.
"Your father isn't here right now, sweetie," she told Rowan, her voice low enough for only the family to hear. "Bjorn finally got a line on a batch of wood from his old supplier friend, a rare cut from the Shadowfen. He's been wanting it for the new Archduke's commission."
Shadowfen was famed for its near-magical sonic dampening properties, and carving it required a master's touch.
"He's got to secure the timber before someone else snatches it up." she added.
Clara put a gentle hand on Rowan's arm, guiding the small procession deeper into the store. "But you can tell me now," she suggested, her eyes crinkling. "We'll head to the back room…it's private. I know the general idea, Rowan. I've met all five of your girls.
They all had a certain fire about them, and none of them were the type to simply walk away forever. They were all just not too for a simple life, and too in love with you to fully let go. Now, you have five little ones who look exactly like them."
As they walked past the main counter, Rowan's gaze fell on the woman handling the transactions. She was tall and slender, barely out of her teens, with striking chocolate skin and a cascade of ice-white hair that fell past her shoulders.
Her ears, finely pointed and elongated, marked her as a half-elf, and a distinct lack of pigment in her hair hinted at a dark elf lineage. This was Nytra Blacksun, the daughter of his uncle, Kael Blacksun.
Nytra's face was an innocent, bubbly mask of professionalism. She was currently deep in negotiation with two impeccably dressed merchants, one of whom was fanning himself with a silk handkerchief.
"I understand your urgency, gentlemen, but the price for a full cask of Bluecrown Lavender soap is firm," Nytra said, her voice bright and melodic, completely lacking the harshness of a dark elf but possessing an iron core of business acumen.
"My aunt only uses the best of flowers, and the yield this month was lower than projected due to the drought. Consider it an investment. Twenty silver for the cask, take it or leave it. There are three other buyers from House Vex waiting for this very batch."
She spotted Rowan and the children and offered a quick, practiced nod of acknowledgment, her smile unwavering, but her focus instantly snapped back to the merchants. Rowan returned the nod, a wave of brotherly pride washing over him.
Nytra was a whirlwind of finance, a natural talent his accountant ex-fiancée, Lina, would have absolutely adored and, simultaneously, been infuriated by.
Clara led them down a short hallway lined with shelves of unfinished wooden utensils and into a small private room. It was furnished simply but richly, with two overstuffed velvet chairs, a mahogany coffee table, and a small, magically chilled water dispenser. The door closed with a satisfying, soft thunk, sealing them away from the hustle of the market.
"Alright, everyone settle down," Clara instructed gently, her eyes sparkling with grandmotherly delight. "I have a special treat."
She retrieved a ceramic plate from a closed wooden cabinet. On it sat a stack of plump, golden-brown cookies, still radiating a faint warmth. The air instantly filled with the scent of roasted butter, wheat, and the deep, rich sweetness of honey.
"Honey baked shortbread cookies, made this morning. Your grandfather's favorite," she announced.
The children's eyes went wide. Lilly and Lucia were the first to move, each taking a cookie with careful hands.
"Thank you, Grandma," Lilly whispered, taking a cautious bite. Her eyes closed in bliss. "It's even better than Daddy's bread!"
Lucia chewed slowly, her ruby eyes gleaming. "Sweet. Warm. Soft," she stated, her voice a purr of pure contentment, before her small fingers delicately reached for a second.
Darius took a cookie with the efficiency of a man choosing the best ration, but the look of deep, relaxed enjoyment on his face betrayed his inner soldier. "Excellent flavor profile, ma'am. Thank you."
Alex, didn't speak but took his cookie and studied it before taking a precise bite, chewing slowly, his small smile the only clue to his pleasure. He took a sip of water, then a second bite, already calculating the value of the things he had seen in the store.
Alexia, of course, analyzed it. She broke a small piece off and inspected the golden crumb. "The honey has perfectly caramelized the edges, preventing too rapid a dehydration. The texture is crumbly, yet the core remains moist. A perfect execution of a simple, stable formula. Thank you, Grandmother."
Clara watched them eat, the pure joy on her face eclipsing any curiosity about their origins. The sound of their contented chewing was a victory in itself. When they were all happily absorbed in their treats, Clara turned to Rowan, her eyes soft but unwavering.
"Now, my sweet, exasperating boy," she began, leaning forward and resting her hands on her knees. "Start from the beginning. I want to know everything."
Rowan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He felt the tension that had been slowly building for the past week finally begin to release in the presence of his mother.
"I… I didn't know it was a possibility, Mom," he admitted, his voice low and heavy. "Not really. Not five of them, all at once. They all came here, one by one, over the years. They all stayed for a while, and they all left with a different piece of my heart. But the children…"
He paused, looking at Lilly, who was now sharing a small piece of her cookie with Lucia.
"The blonde one is Lilliana, we call her Lilly. She's from Artemis."
Clara nodded slowly, taking in his words. "Artemis was always the simplest of your ladies. Noble in spirit, but direct. Let's hope her daughter, Lilly, has her mother's fire but not her stubbornness."
Rowan chuckled, a dry sound. "Stubbornness is the only thing that keeps that farm running through a drought, Mom. Anyway, the one with black hair and blue eyes is Nexia's. Her name is Alexia. She has her mother's intelligence and thirst for knowledge."
"Nexia is a potioneer, Rowan. And a witch. She is driven by the pure, unholy need for knowledge. " Clara observed, her gaze resting on Alexia, who was now meticulously wiping the crumbs from her lap. "Alexia is must be her most valuable creation."
"The studious looking one is Alex, Nina's boy." Rowan continued, his jaw tightening slightly. "He plans on helping me sell my goods. As good at math as his mother but not as scheming."
Clara reached out and took his hand, squeezing it firmly. "Lina is fear, Rowan. Pure, cold, rational fear. She grew up with nothing, and she will never let her child feel that. You represent the absolute safety of a no-risk existence. Your farm is her financial backup. She loves Alex enough to give him up to the one thing she can't control, her own ambition."
"And the other boy is Darius," Rowan said, his voice softening once more. "Yue Ling has probably the second most dangerous environment as he's constantly fighting. Leaving the boy to me is the best decision ."
"Yue is a general," Clara stated simply. "She sees her son as a future soldier, and she is giving him the best possible training ground. She knows you will teach him discipline and self-sufficiency. She sees your farm as a place to learn from the best. She respects you, Rowan. Which is the highest honor a Shuhuan martial artist can give."
He stopped, his eyes drifting to Lucia, who was now curled up in the big chair, her cheek resting on the velvet.
"And then there's Lucia. Obviously from Cheryl. With the drought so widespread, even the Ironsong empire Must be in chaos too. The high nobility of such a nation isn't the proper place for someone as pure hearted as Lucia to live."
Rowan rubbed his face, his exasperation melting into pure fatherly affection. "Just like when Cheryl was around, there is still a horde of bodyguards always lurking around inside and outside the farm. Even now they are sitting outside the store in the always and on the rooftops."
Clara smiled, a rare, profound smile that creased the corners of her eyes. She patted his hand again. "Cheryl, that vampire had the most love for your life but she also loves her power. She can't seem to abandon her duties but maybe one day she might.
One day, all five of those women might come back to put the pieces of your heart they took in the right pace "
She leaned in, her gaze softening further. "Those women trust your strength, Rowan. They trust the magic you abandoned your title to protect. They trust your goodness. That is a great deal of trust…." She paused, letting the word settle into her son's heart.
"Now, what do you need? You're here to outfit the children, but you also mentioned money. What is your plan?" she asked soon after.
Rowan took a deep breath, the comforting smell of his mother's shop finally centering him. "I'm almost out of money, Mom. The wards, the irrigation, the Magic Fridge, it all drained me. I decided I need to sell the premium produce now, while the nobles are desperate.
I need capital to build Alexia her lab, to buy Lilly her equipment, and to Betsy's needs a companion cow. I need to be a provider, not just a protector."
Clara nodded, her merchant's mind already calculating. "Good. You can't rely on your past savings forever, and your brother and sister's education in the capital is only getting more expensive. You're sitting on a mountain of high demand and low availability products.
I'll ask around. I know the head buyers for three of the biggest merchant houses in the capital, the ones Nytra is currently charming the boots off of. They're respectable and discreet.
We'll set up a meeting. You can show them the ginseng, the perfect tomatoes, the full range of your harvest. They will pay a fortune for the privilege."
She squeezed his hand one last time, her expression firm and resolute. "We will build your childcare fund, Rowan. We will secure your children's future. Now, let's go find Lilly that sword and Alex a proper ledger."
The five children, now on their third or fourth cookie, looked up, their eyes full of appreciation and sweet exhaustion. The simple act of explaining, of sharing his burden, had lightened Rowan's heart immeasurably. He was no longer a retired Magic Knight, or a paranoid farmer. He was a son, he was a father, and his own mother was here as his mental support.
"Thank you, Mom," he said, a genuine smile finally reaching his eyes.
Clara winked. "Good. Nytra can handle the merchants for a bit. She's making 1 silver coin an hour, after all." She then looked at the children, her voice bright once more. "Who's ready for more cookies?"
As the group was cheering about more cookies, Lucia, still cuddled deep in the chair, let out a soft, sleepy whimper. She was already drifting off, her head lolling to the side.
"Oops. It seems the shortbread and the travelling have done their work on our little princess," Clara whispered.
She murmured something in her sleep that sounded like 'cookie... honey...' and then was completely out.