John was out in the hallway, looking lost. Unfortunately, he was just as bad with directions as Prota was, if not worse. He'd wandered the halls, backtracking multiple times for a while until he, too, remembered that a map was a part of his system. Even then, he was still getting lost. At some point, he considered breaking the walls down and walking in one direction until he got somewhere, but that would probably just get him killed. While that would've been fine by him before, it wouldn't work now.

"Seriously… maybe I should've just waited for someone to come and guide me out."

He sighed, expanding his map to see where he had and hadn't explored.

"There's a large blank area over there… there, too, but those could all just be corridors. Fuck, I don't wanna think about this…"

Suddenly, there was a loud sound, like a giant object being pounded into the ground. There was a pause, and then it was there again. He could feel the floor shaking ever so slightly. Was someone throwing one-ton weights on the floor or something?

"That way," John muttered, breaking into a light jog.

He had no idea what he was getting into, but it was better than nothing. There was likely a person at the source of the sound, and they'd likely be able to get him out of this damn place.

Eventually, he reached a pair of twin doors. He could hear the sounds of fighting on the other side, with occasional bursts of heat or cold sweeping underneath the door. The sound was louder now. The floor shook, sending shockwaves up John's legs, making him hesitant to approach. Another wave of heat, followed by the sound of icicles shattering.

"...Prota?" John frowned. He braced himself and pushed forward.

He was greeted with the sight of a ruined training ground, with his sister standing in the centre of it all, her head snapping left and right as she cast spells frantically, chanting like never before. Something was moving at high speeds around her, bouncing around like a ball, its shape hard to track.

"Wait. I- what the hell's going on?"

Suddenly, a loud crack rang out as Prota barely managed to raise a shield of ice in front of her, just in time to stop a giant black hammer from crashing down on her. The shield didn't stop the attack entirely, though. It simply slowed it down enough to give Prota time to dodge.

"You really are incredible! What kind of training did you go through?" Hart's voice rang out.

John just continued to watch in confusion.

"What the- how did this happen?"

Prota caught his eye and began to signal. Her face actually twisted into one of mild worry, something John rarely saw. Her body flinched as she threw herself to the side, dodging another blow from the hammer that resulted in a crater being formed in the ground. She looked at him again pleadingly, but what was he supposed to do?

Stop Hart? How?

Thankfully, it seemed that his presence was enough to bring the elder Windwalker child to her senses. Hart stopped moving as quickly as she'd started, her face dripping with sweat. However, her expression remained calm and collected as she turned to John.

"Your sister is incredible. I thought Des was strong, but she might be just as much of a genius as he is. I must say, I'm impressed."

"...what?"

Suddenly, Destiny came running up from behind, a girl with blonde hair trailing behind him, running to catch up.

"Hart! Did you start a fight with Prota?"

"Well-"

"Seriously, you can't just do this every time you come across someone strong!"

John half expected Hart to blow up, but she simply nodded her head and turned to Prota with a bow.

"I'm very sorry about that. I get a little hot-headed when it comes to strong people. Thank you. It was very fun."

Just like that, Hart's violent nature had been replaced with the calm and collected girl they'd seen before. She turned to Destiny.

"Why are you here?"

"Mom wants you to help get dinner ready."

"I'll be there," Hart nodded, turning her hammer back into a case.

She bent down to pick it up and walked away calmly, leaving behind the ruined training grounds as if she'd gone for a light jog and nothing more.

"Haah… sorry about that," Destiny said, rubbing the back of his head. "She's normally much more mature, but she's a fanatic about fighting strong opponents. I shouldn't have said anything about Prota's strength."

Prota nodded weakly as she collapsed, out of both energy and mana. It wasn't like Hart was the most powerful foe she'd fought. Mise, the mercenaries, Doctor, they were all opponents with abilities stronger than Destiny's sister. The difference was the dedication Hart had put into the fight. Mise had underestimated her. The mercenaries were professional, but it was nothing more than a job for them. Hart was fighting with spirit. With passion. And a spar was very different from a battle to the death. Prota had to hold back and ensure her opponent could finish with no serious consequences.

In some ways, it'd been even harder than fighting John.

"Anyways, what's up? Who's that?" John said, cocking his head to the side to try and get a better look at the blonde girl behind Destiny.

She seemed shy, but she carried herself well. To John's surprise, Destiny seemed shocked that he had someone tagging along. He spun around, but not before they saw a visible expression of annoyance.

"Cel," Destiny said in an annoyed tone. "I told you not to follow me."

"Hmph! As if you can tell me what to do."

"What was the point in coming here? We're just going to head back anyway!"

"I haven't seen you in a year! Seriously, I thought we'd catch up and stuff, and you're just gonna brush me off like this? You're a meanie."

John frowned and looked at Prota, who shrugged slightly. Neither knew what to make of the situation, so they just sat down in the dust next to each other. He looked around the area, tracing his fingers along the cracks in the ground, shattered from cold and sheer force.

It didn't look like their argument would end any time soon. Eventually, John got fed up.

"Ok, so, um… who is this? Can we leave?"

Destiny sighed, clearly annoyed.

"This is her royal highness, Celestia Elvus, Princess of the elves."

"Dummy!" Celestia pouted, hitting him on the back of the head. "Now they're gonna treat me differently!"

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"What? What else am I supposed to introduce you as? Your father would kill me if he knew I was telling people you were just another servant!"

Indeed, Prota had leapt to her feet and bowed in the presence of royalty, but as usual, John seemed to pay no regard to the title associated with the girl's name. He nodded, acknowledging her presence, but the fact that she was a princess didn't seem to faze him.

The princess suddenly stopped and faced them, doing a curtsey as she had been formally introduced. Interestingly enough, she and Destiny were around the same height. Her long golden hair shone, outlining a slim, dainty face that didn't match her bright, cheerful smile. Despite her proper and tidy appearance, the girl's energy was bright and bubbly, causing an interesting contrast between appearance and attitude.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that guy treating you any differently," Destiny grumbled as he eyed John. "I hope you didn't talk to the king like that."

"...sure," John nodded. "Keep thinking that."

"What the hell, man! I told you to treat him with just a little respect. Was it really so hard?"

"What? Why should I treat him any differently? Cause he's a king?"

Destiny sighed as he held his face in his hand. He was shocked John was even alive, but then again, the man had a habit of getting himself in and out of the most ridiculous situations.

"Aegnor Elvus, King of the Elves. Layla Elvus, Queen of the Elves. Remember those names. You need to treat them a little better, got it?"

Celestia suddenly burst out into giggles.

"You're an interesting person."

John shrugged. "Thanks. I know a lot of people who would say otherwise."

"No, I think most people would think of you as an oddball," Destiny said, shaking his head. "Well, I know better than to try and lecture you. Just make sure you're home for dinner, ok?"

"Can I come?" Celestia begged.

"Cel, we've been over this. The royal chefs do their best to prepare your meals. You can't just keep avoiding them to come over and eat…"

John watched as Destiny and Celestia walked off, bickering once again. It felt different than the arguments between, say, Zero or Prota and himself. He couldn't quite place his finger on what it was, though. It took him a few moments, but as he realized what it was, he made a face of disgust.

"Hey, if there's a romance thing down the line, I don't want any part of it, ok?" John said, looking up in to the air.

Prota looked at him with a frown.

"Zero?"

There was no response.

John shrugged. "Great. Sounds good."

He stretched, watching the [Characters] fight as he breathed the outside air. Suddenly, a question passed his mind, one he'd forgotten to ask due to the nature of the situation.

"Hey, Prota. Hart. How strong was she?"

Prota flinched, remembering the sparring session she'd been through. "Super strong. Scary."

"Hm. Fair enough. Alright, let's get outta here. Come on, I'll carry you. Let's go," John said, reaching down to pick her up. "Oh? Hey, what's this?"

Prota looked down, and her heart skipped a beat. Her cloak. There was a giant tear she hadn't noticed. It hadn't been there during the fight. It must've ripped while she was fighting with Hart. It wasn't just a small rip that John could patch up.

"...hey, Prota. I mean, we can get you something better, right? At this point, this equipment's not gonna keep up with the power scaling of this world. You're kinda just wearing a rag at this point."

Prota remained silent as she took her cloak off, staring at the tear. There was a long pause before she handed it over slowly, her face revealing nothing. John was too busy to pay attention, so he just took it and shoved it into the pocket dimension for storage.

Prota raised her hands, waiting for John to pick her up.

"Alright, let's go eat."

He hoisted her onto his shoulders and then began to head out, only stopping to grab Prota's staff. He headed for the doors, flinching momentarily.

"...?"

"Ah, don't worry about it. Just remembered something."

John had indeed just remembered something. In his system was an alert from his calendar. How had he forgotten? It'd already been almost a year.

[Prota's birthday]

It was a good thing he'd put it in there, because he would've forgotten otherwise. His appearance remained calm, but his head was practically producing steam at the rate it was working, trying to figure out what he would do. One week. He had a week to figure it out.

He stepped through the doors, heading back into the castle, only to realize something.

"Ah. Right. Hey. How do we leave?"

~~~

Prota carefully guided John out of the palace using her knowledge of the area. A servant had been waiting outside, ready to guide them back to the Windwalker abode.

"This way," he said, leading them inwards.

Prota looked around in amazement as they walked through budding trees and growing bushes, which were not nearly as neat as the garden but still beautiful in their own way.

"This is as far as I go. Please enjoy your stay."

John hesitated in front of the door, but it was opened by Hart, who was standing in fresh clothing. She nodded and motioned for them to enter. Prota was wary, but Hart's weapon was nowhere to be found. Besides, she was still being carried by John, so her will didn't matter all that much anyway. Granted, given what was coming next, she wouldn't want to leave anyway.

A delicious smell filled the air. It was a fragrant smell of stew that was somehow rich and light at the same time. Beef and herbs wafted under their nose, a meaty and hearty feeling that warmed the soul, even without taking a bite. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed with garlic and other spices was heavenly. Potatoes were baking in the oven, the meaty insides turning a golden brown.

Prota was practically in heaven, and even John's mouth was beginning to water. He hadn't eaten anything all day.

"Mother makes very good stew," Hart said with a small smile. "It's her specialty. It's a recipe that's been passed down from generation to generation."

"...you guys willing to sell it for anything?"

Hart just smiled.

John lowered Prota down so she could walk into the dining room herself, where servants were busy preparing the table. It was a fine home, but it wasn't overly fancy. It was well built, designed properly and made with quality materials, but there was no extravagance or design that wasn't needed. Even the servants wore simple clothing that would allow them to perform their job best.

At the head of the table was a large man with a gentle face and a bushy brown beard. A large, friendly bear came to mind. To his right sat a smaller woman with silver hair and red eyes, her slim figure disguised but not hidden by her simple black dress. Her aura seemed much sharper and more piercing, but she nodded with a smile similar to Hart's. Destiny sat somewhere in the middle, smiling away. It was easy to see how the family was related. Destiny had his mother's hair and his father's smile. Hart shared her mother's smile and her father's build.

"Welcome," Haze Windwalker said. "Please. Have a seat."

John obliged, pulling a seat back for Prota, then himself, and sat quietly. He was sure Destiny's mother was friendly, but he just wasn't very comfortable with these kinds of people. He couldn't fool around the way he usually would. They wouldn't react. They'd just act. And John was pretty sure he didn't want to be on the "finding out" side of fucking around with this family.

Haze sat down next to her mother, nodding once, and the table was finally set. Prota's mouth was already on the verge of turning into a waterfall. She kept swallowing, trying to hold herself back.

Bowls, plates, and cutlery were set before everyone, and servants began ladling out the rich soup. The broth was a rich, dark brown, with thick chunks of braised beef, carrots and potatoes floating around. There wasn't a hint of oil or fat at the surface, just good, clean stew.

A steaming loaf of fresh bread sat in the center, sliced up to reveal the soft, puffy insides, next to a plate of garlic butter. Baked potatoes were available for the taking, with fresh cream, salt, and pepper available as toppings. A salad was tossed in a bowl with a light dressing, the lettuce and tomatoes looking crisp and fresh. John's mouth began to water.

"I hope you enjoy," Alan Windwalker said. His voice was soft yet deep. It fit his image very well. "I doubt there's anyone in the world that can top my wife's cooking."

"That's an overstatement."

"No, it's an understatement."

"Silence, you."

Despite Haze's cold tone, the type of relationship the two had was evident. John sat awkwardly, somewhat put off by the not-so-decorated show of love, while Prota was already digging in, dipping a piece of bread in her soup, tearing away, and happily devouring the meal. Just how good was the food? John watched in amusement, then turned to try it for himself.

His first bite was all he needed to understand. The bread was light, fluffy, and chewy, mixing perfectly with the stew. The flavours were intense but not heavy, perfectly balanced between fragrant and rich, the stew thick but not heavy. The meat was tender, falling apart on the fork, juices oozing out with each bite. It was a perfect blend of fatty and beefy without being greasy.

The salad, too, was amazing. The sauce was just acidic enough to cut through the fattiness of the stew but light and sweet enough to enhance the flavour of the greens that John couldn't identify. The vegetables tasted fresh, bursting with juice and flavour and perfectly ripe in texture, not a single soggy leaf to be found.

It was enough to make him shut up and eat. The rest of the family was talking, clearly happy to be together again, but John couldn't even be bothered to listen in. Like Prota, an unconscious smile formed on his lips as he chewed away.

[Determination activates!]

"Yeah, yeah," John muttered, waving the message away.

Now was not the time for [Determination]. Now was the time for food. Family. Warmth. A simple home-cooked meal. When was the last time he'd been pampered like this? A long-since-forgotten emotion rose up. John almost didn't remember what it was, but he realized what it was at the last moment.

Right. Jealousy. That was the word.

"I take it that the meal is to your liking?"

John tried to say something, choked, and coughed, covering his mouth. "I- yeah. Yeah, it's good."

Destiny's mother smiled. "That's good to hear. I've heard much about you two from my boy. It's nice to meet you in person."

John nodded, pretending he hadn't seen her in the king's room. She seemed so different here. He then went back to eating, slowly putting another piece of food in his mouth.

Still, ever since she'd spoken, he couldn't get the cold gaze of Haze Windwalker off his back.

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