Five hours passed since my sons were born. Now they were fully grown and eyeing vampires so, as if they wanted to eat them.
I looked at Aron, who seed not to care much. Then to Nate, who also did nothing to reign in our sons.
"You are both horrible," I said, as I just sighed, and handed Morty the black vest he made put together for him.
It is just a phase, I told myself. But Morty was a Lich, and I knew that no, it was not just a phase. He was going to wear black, not brown and green like .
And he was going to date vampires... just like , I guess.
"Well, you are the one who got us pregnant without permission," Nate said, as he pointed at a vampire. I saw how Mordred followed the direction he was pointing at. "That one does wonders with his tongue. I recomnd."
My sandal hit Nate on the head. His finger did not lower itself.
"Thanks dad!" And Mordred was off.
I had no illusions that Morty was not going to run off after a vampire as soon as he managed to get the too tight vest around his muscular torso.
"Dad, why is this thing so tight?" Morty protested, as he tugged and tugged.
"Son, this is a corset," I told him. Because I didn’t want to call things with other nas than the ones which they should be carrying. "And corsets are made for won, who have narrower waists than you."
"It’s not a corset!" Morty protested, tugging and tugging, until the horrid thing fell apart.
"I’m not sewing you another one," because no father wanted for their son to wear a corset.
"You are horrible!" And my dramatic Lich son stord off with his robes bellowing behind him so, as if he were a Dark Lord.
"Well," Aron said, as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "The next ones will be easier?"
I snorted.
"We need to talk," I said, as I eyed the two. I had no idea how I had gotten them pregnant, but that didn’t an that they had to keep it from for so long. "We have children who can never inherit my na."
Because I didn’t want Aron to pass them his na or even Nate to do it. No, these children were created with my mana.
They were mine, darn it!
"Do you want to marry us?" Nate asked, already licking his lips.
"Yes," I said with all the seriousness a clueless drake could have, who didn’t know he had been had. "And Mordred and Morty will be Greenbarks!"
Aron blinked; Nate choked on his own spit.
"What? That’s my last na!" I said, already thinking that they were going to make fun of .
"Sylvan," Nathaniel said, as he was patting himself on the chest. "Tell honestly: does Mordred Greenbark make you fear for your life?"
I shook my head.
"No! But what of it? They are strong! They can make nas for themselves!"
"Mortir Greenbark is just silly," Aron said, as he began to chuckle.
My fists balled of their own accord. But not the way I normally balled them, but the way Solas taught .
But before I could get in a fight and end up with sothing broken, I heard it.
Solas was yelling my na.
"Just a minute!" Because I really wanted to punch Aron on the nose.
Break it...
I blinked at my own thoughts. Was I really going to use sothing like that as a punishnt? I felt sick of myself.
I unclenched my hands. I practically ran to Solas’ tent. Or the Command Tent, as he liked to call it.
"Solas," I was lost in my thoughts. I was a horrible creature who had given birth to a Lich and a Boliarin and did not even love his own soulmate!
"Here," Solas passed sothing that stank to high heaven, but I still began to drink from it. "I don’t deserve Doran."
There were tis when I believed in the fact that Solas had been born a human. That he had grown up slowly. Surrounded by love.
This mont was one of those.
"Well, I don’t deserve Aron and Nate," I told him because I needed to get it off my chest. "So, I guess, we are the sa."
Solas snorted, his blue eyes twinkling. But he did not protest.
"What are we going to do?" Solas asked , as he took his bottle back. It tasted awful anyway. I did not miss it.
"Well... I only know how to solve my problems with food," after all, it was cheese that had turned my sons from weapons of mass destruction into sothing that might pass for humans...
"Do you think I should try it?" He asked .
I nodded.
"Then I will!" He jumped to his feet, running out of the tent. I looked down at the map, musing over the fact that I still had no idea what was what.
I didn’t know why I did it. But as I took out the small booklet that Solas had given , I started to decode our surroundings.
We were near the Mammoth Graveyard, and it was connected to an underground tunnel which led to a dungeon. That dungeon had a green sign over it.
I began to search for the aning of the sign in my booklet. There, in a page so chewed up one might think that Solas had been starving while he had been learning about this sign, was the following sentence. Written in green:
Food! A dungeon that makes food! The Boliari need to eat! I will conquer them with atballs!
There was also an adorable doodle of a atball near the exclamation mark.
I smiled.
Solas had been a kid, once. I had no idea what had turned him into the man he was now, but he had loved cooking, once.
And I wanted to rekindle that love once more.
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