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40. What it’s Supposed to be Like

"Absolutely not." Naia scanned the back of the cereal box with disapproval. "There are twelve grams of sugar per serving."

"He loves them, though." Ronin pouted, his attention solely on nine-month-old Ash, gnawing and drooling on his knuckles.

Coming from her husband, who could never say no to the face of their chubby-cheeked child, and who would never be caught dead eating something as sweet as fruity cereal.

Naia placed the box back on the shelf. "He will also love a mushed-up apple."

"Applesauce is boring." Ronin's gaze came up to her, brow cocked. "Let's check the sugar content in a slice of cake."

Naia leveled him with a stare. "I am a goddess. Nutritional value means nothing to me."

"High Goddess," Ronin corrected her with a prideful smirk. "And he is a demigod."

She skimmed over the first part of his statement with mixed feelings towards the subject. "Half mortal."

Ash rotated in her direction and held out his stubby arms. His chin was wet with saliva and his silver hair was already a mess, despite Naia brushing it that morning.

She lifted him out of his seat and positioned him on her hip—even though they'd both agreed to leave him in the cart seat due to his clinginess to her—because she too could not resist her child's swirly brown eyes.

In what Ronin referred to as her baby-talking voice, she cooed, "You need to grow up with strong bones, right, Ashy darling?"

He made an ah sound Naia took as agreement, which quickly became a high-pitched squeal of excitement, flailing his arms about enthusiastically.

"That's right." Naia giggled.

Ash reached for the butterfly hairpin in Naia's braid. Wren's tassels, repaired by none other than Avi and a brilliant potion, skimmed the shell of her ear, serving as a welcomed reminder of her father, no matter how far away he was.

Naia showered Ash's chubby cheeks with kisses that only made him squeal louder. His small hands found purchase on her nose and chin, and she gave a final smooch on his forehead before he crammed a fistful of her hair into his mouth.

"You see, we're in agreement, Ash and me." When she looked up, Ronin's gaze was a glimmering puddle of melted chocolate as he watched them. Naia had come to recognize it as a look he wore during sentimental moments.

An older woman with gray locks squeezed past them, her eyes snagging on Ash. She smiled. "My, what a unique hair color she has. Too adorable."

Ash had a smooth, glowing complexion, deep-set eyes, with a head full of silver strands. Naia admired her child's appearance all the time, and she expected the same reaction from strangers as well.

"Thank you." Naia gave a polite smile in return.

The woman waved animatedly to Ash before continuing down the aisle.

"I might as well put a bow on him." Naia huffed the moment the stranger was out of range.

Ronin gave a casual shrug. "It's his divinity."

His logical statement made her scowl. "I know, but still. If they don't know, they shouldn't assume! Boys can be pretty too, dammit!"

"Come on." Ronin resumed strolling down the aisle. "You have that low sugar look in your eyes, and I have a feeling it's gonna result in damaging the shelves again if they are out of your cream puffs."

"That only happened once. And it was an accident." Naia followed, prying her hair from Ash's slobbery grip. "Cream puffs keep Momma happy."

Ronin cast her an enticing smirk over his shoulder, eyes glittering. "I know of other ways to keep Momma happy."

She blushed.

Naia steppedinto motherhood with grace.

Holding Ash and getting lost in counting his fingers and toes, inspecting the small, intricate details of his pink fingernails and tiny nose and every strand of hair on his head. She never tired from looking at him.

Her favorite moments were when she'd find Ronin in the dead of night in Ash's room, eyes closed as he rocked Ash to sleep, or walking into the brewery and seeing Ash strapped onto Ronin's back as he swiped through his tablet checking inventory.

Two months after Ash's birth, Ronin and Naia married on the brewery's rooftop. They held a reception in the lounge where Avi got drunk and sang karaoke. Theon recorded him as future blackmail, and Damian continuously supplied his cocktails.

Naia danced on the floor with Ash in her arms, doing everything in her power to convince Ronin to join.

After a few songs, Ash became squirmy, a sign of approaching hunger.

Halfway off the floor, Ronin was at her side, taking their child in his arms. "Let me."

He gave her a peck on the forehead and sauntered off towards the bar where she'd stored Ash's diaper bag.

She smiled to herself, scanning the familiar faces dancing around her with a full heart.

Her eyes sought out a bright-pink head of hair in the midst of it all. No doubt, Violet would be in the center of the floor, beaming with her contagious personality.

Naia's grief led her up the stairs and in front of the portraits hung outside the VIP room.

One was of a face she'd never met with an uncanny resemblance to Damian's honed features with long, dark brown strands spilling over her shoulders. Jules. Beside her was Violet's.

Naia bowed her head to the fallen leaders, wishing them a peaceful afterlife.

Noah came to stand quietly beside her. For a long minute, he stared up at the portraits.

Naia minded him with a glance.

"Thanks for bringing Ronin back," he said, his voice low-pitched and easy on the ears. It was the first time he'd ever spoken to her.

She turned towards him, trying her hardest to maintain her level of surprise, welling up. "Thank you for being by his side all these years."

He studied her for a beat and then strolled away. He stopped right before passing by her and gave her a small nod with a look of acceptance. In response, she smiled, and he walked away.

The crowd cheered, and she moved over to the railing, peering across the bottom story of the lounge. Ronin shimmied in place with Ash propped in his arms. Damian circled Ronin, tongue out, inciting the sweetest giggle stealing the attention in the room.

Naia blinked away the moisture gathered in her eyes. All the hardships she'd endured were worth it to be standing here.

She disagreed with her father's words long ago. Those she loved were not fleeting. They were in the dahlias decorating the center of the tables throughout the lounge; in how she could imagine her little brother, if he were here, pretending to be aloof to the joyous, mortal atmosphere.

Naia carried Finnian and their father everywhere. They were a part of her, always.

With Finnian's absence, Ronin and the Blood Heretics took on the role of running the city, and the responsibility for resolving black market affairs and keeping peace among other organizations.

Contrary to expectations, no war broke out between the Blood Heretics and the organizations loyal to Finnian.

Runa, a leader of a Finnian-supporting organization, summoned a meeting with Naia.

With an eyepatch over her right eye, tattooed arms over muscled biceps, and a cheeky personality that provoked Ronin, she made an impression.

"We were told to shift our allegiance," she announced from across the table.

Seated in a circle, they occupied a secluded room in the lounge. Ronin was to one side of Naia, Theon to her other.

Naia had left Ash with Avi in his potion room. Her son sat on the workbench, chewing on a lavender blossom while Avi rambled on about the various ingredients for the potion he was creating. Not caring how Ash was only four months old, incapable of understanding such words.

"To the Blood Heretics?" Ronin wore his boss tone, as Naia nicknamed it—a strong assertiveness when engaging in business discussions with other city leaders.

A patronizing laugh came from Runa. "We are to transfer our loyalty to Naia, per Lord Finnian's orders."

Naia blinked.

It was several days after that encounter when Naia was led into Finnian's home by Runa herself.

It smelled of herbs and licorice. Filled with centuries of art adorning the interior brick walls. Mostly surrealist, peculiar paintings—a portrait of a fox dressed in a tuxedo, or a hand reaching out of a bouquet.

He had dedicated one floor to books, another to a cauldron, potions, and grimoires, and another to overgrown plants that Runa explained were rare and hard to cultivate.

Every surface was covered inoddities—various animal skulls, more candles than Naia could count, and a collection of jewels and crystals needed for certain spells, she presumed.

She sat on his satin bedspread and stared at the fireplace across the room, allowing herself a moment to mourn and miss Finnian.

It was the home of a sorcerer; of a magician; of her baby brother.

Every day of Ash's childhood, she would recount the tale of his Uncle Finnian, and how he bravely rescued her. She also told Ash stories of his grandfather, the legends of Vale, the High God of Nature.

One day, she hoped to see them again.

"I have a question, if you don't mind." Runa pretended to peruse a book on the shelf of Finnian's massive library.

Naia had Ash strapped around her chest, aware of his rhythmic breathing as he slept. She was crouched down on the floor, reading through one of Finnian's journals. All the notes he took when experimenting with his necromancy. It was the same as trying to decipher the foreign language in the Himura clan grimoires.

She closed the journal and looked up at Runa, who had become something of a friend to her. "Not at all, ask away."

Runa propped her elbow up on the shelf, looking down at Naia with her only eye. "What is your title, Goddess?"

Naia slipped the journal back to its rightful place on the shelf and smiled up at the witch. "I am the Goddess of the Blood Heretics."

Nobody needed to know her official title. And until Naia learned more about it, she had no desire to reveal it to people.

Though, becoming a High Goddess with a new lineage had frightened her sister. Marina had not made an appearance to fulfill her vow since the day of Ash's birth.

While Naia did not regret granting Ronin eternal life, she regretted doing so against his will.

"I have no hard feelings towards you." Ronin would tell her, late at night in their bed, when she voiced the worries crowding her mind. "I get to live forever with you."

Hedid, but what about their child?

After Ash's first birthday, he began walking, and his fragility was evident in the way he skinned his knees on the rough concrete and the sound of his cries after each stumble.

"When he grows older, you can present him with the option," Ronin suggested. "If he wishes to be immortal, you can grant it to him."

The Council won't approve, was Naia's quarrel, but she didn't dare speak it aloud. Fearful if she did, they would finally summon her forward for a discussion.

She could sense them watching her closely, waiting to see how she'd choose to wield her ability. With the power to grant eternal life, mortals would worship her endlessly. To some deities, another outshining them was considered a threat.

Not only that, but it was highly improbable the Council would allow Naia to bestow immortality upon her son—a demigod from the Himura clan.

If Ash desired such a thing, she'd deal with it when the time came.

For now, she wanted to just… be.

"My,miss, I can't believe you've put up with him for a full year now," Ms. Maeve gestured down to the black band, studded with a single ruby on Naia's ring finger. "You know, I never thought this one would ever settle down and get married. Well, with his reputation as the Witch Lord running this city and all, but I suppose I was wrong."

"Some would call that judging a book by its cover, Ms. Maeve." Ronin tapped his debit card impatiently on the granite surface of the counter.

Ms. Maeve stood on the other side of the cash register with an assortment of dishes floating behind her—dirty ones entering the kitchen, and others with meals and pastries to their designated tables. The coffee shop was busier than most days, given it was a weekend and the autumn solstice.

Ms. Maeve winked at Naia."Or being observant."

Ronin's eyebrow twitched and Naia grinned.

"A full year…" she mused. "It doesn't seem like it's been that long."

"This interaction feels longer," Ronin mumbled.

Ms. Maeve rolled her eyes. "So dramatic. Now, come on, what can I get for you two? Your usuals?"

Ronin rubbed a tired hand across his face. "Yes, please."He'd placed his order several times in between Ms. Maeve's babbling.

"I think I want to try something new." Naia read through the seasonal flavors posted on the chalkboard. The chilly temperature and the copper shades of foliage outside had inspired her.

She beamed. "How about a Bonfire Ash latte?"

Ronin's eyes slightly widened, and he shook his head discreetly, insinuating it was an awful choice.

Naia's gaze shifted between him and Ms. Maeve's perfectly arched eyebrow and her stare pinning Ronin. "Boy, what is wrong with my latte?"

"It tastes like soot." He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the board. "It's even in the name."

They bickered, but Naia wasn't listening.

The morning sunlight filtered through the windowpanes, pouring maple rays across the hardwood floor. A broom swept past her. Two younger girls were waiting in line, talking amongst themselves. A man sat by the window, reading on his tablet, rotating his wrist as his spoon stirred his tea. Naia recognized him as the regular who always sat in the same seat at this time of day.

It was all a privilege, the last year of her life—idyllic and peaceful. Coffee on an autumn morning. Their son at the brewery, undoubtedly wreaking havoc in Avi's potion room with Theon in the corner, smirking in secret under his mask.

Monarch butterflies flitted above, adhering to the blossomed milkweed woven in the metal rafters.

Naia reached up into her hair and pulled Wren free. Her silver strands fell in waves down her back.

"Go," she whispered. "Be free."

Wren awoke in her palm, stretching its wings up and down before fluttering in the air.

Find peace. She smiled through the tears pricking in her eyes as she watched her hairpin's golden wings mixed with the canvas of Monarch butterflies painting the ceiling.

"Two soot lattes, coming up," Ms. Maeve huffed with finality and waved her hand in the air. The espresso machine hissed to life. She turned around and stalked away.

"For fuck's sake." Ronin rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Naia slid next to him and interlocked their fingers. "You shouldn't have said anything."

He tapped his card on the little device pinned on the counter that allegedly subtracted money from their bank account. Despite her doubts, Naia still wasn't convinced the device lacked magical influence.

"It's not sweet enough for you," he said under his breath.

She studied the side of his face, admiring the pieces of hair in face and the puffy white scar on his neck she'd recently discovered how much she loved kissing. It elicited the most feral reaction out of him every time.

She stole a quick kiss on it. "We can stop for cream puffs on the way home."

"And takoyaki. I'm starving." He twirled the band on her ring finger with his thumb, something he started doing after they got married. A subconscious act Naia wasn't sure he was aware he did.

"Oh! Pasta, too. From that place you took me to last week."

He embraced her with his other arm. "Who the fuck eats pasta at ten in the morning?"

"Says the man who wants takoyaki," she teased, easing her weight into his side.

He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, grinning.

Life with Roninwas cozy Sunday mornings; the house smelling of freshly iced cinnamon rolls; night drives with the purple and blue neon lights of the city streaming through the window; dishes in the sink scrubbing themselves, and the laundry folding itself on the sofa; teaching Ash how to walk in the lounge with members of the Blood Heretics cheering him on; Damian and Noah casting a spell on the hard floor to cushion it in case he fell; days wasted away in bed with cartoons on the television, Naia wearing Ronin's oversized t-shirt, and him resting back on the headboard bare-chested and skin covered in goosebumps, with Ash propped in his lap, in a trance on the television; an IPA and a plate of cookies on the apartment balcony, tipsy with Ronin's mouth on hers.

They returned to Nohealani Island every year for the Summer Solstice Festival.

Together, they meandered around.

Naia wore her yukata, the color of blush and lavender haze, gifted to her by Ronin—who'd taken a few months of sewing lessons from Avi to make it with his own hands. Despite how much he wanted to give in and cast a spell to do the work for him. She appreciated his effort and took pride in wearing it alongside Akane and Yuki.

Along with Wren pinned in the small updo of her freshly cut hair. The ends of her strands met the tops of her shoulders, pulled up in a tight half bun with her butterfly hairpin keeping it in place.

No matter how many times she set Wren free, the ancient relic appeared on her bedside table the next day.

Ash held Akane's hand and led him to her favorite game stand. Yuki and Avi bickered over the moral ethics of entrapping goldfish in a tank for the mere sake of children's entertainment. Ronin's arms overflowed with all of Naia's delicious treats while Theon gave him continuous sidelong glances, thoroughly amused.

The islanders danced and chanted around a new statue of a High God with its gaze fixed on the sea. A High Deity of a serene disposition with baby's breath scattered throughout his hair, and an arm held out, offering his followers a flourished peony in his palm.

Naia's heart ballooned as she gazed up at the magnificent stone carving of her father. Her fingers touched Wren in her hair. She blinked back the tears threatening to spill out.

I love you deeper than the earth, Father.

His memories kept her company while she walked the shore where Ronin had first found her. Above her, the night sky was a backdrop of warm, twinkling lanterns. To honor the High God of Nature trapped in the Land of the Dead.

"Mommy!" Ash tugged on her arm, jumping exuberantly, his silver strands bouncing on his forehead. "Look!"

She looked down at him, attempting to concentrate on what he held up. A large disk of a deep red flower sat in his palm.

Her breath hitched. She accepted the blossom from Ash. "Where did you find this, Ashy darling?"she asked, her voice wobbling.

Dahlias did not grow among the island flora.

"They're growing in my footsteps!" He spun around, pointing to the trail of footprints he left in the sand. In each one, a stem sprouted up from their center and unfolded in layers of sharp petals.

Ronin and the others carefully walked to the side, avoiding stepping on them.

She regarded Ronin with a look of implication, silently asking if he was the one doing this.

A smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head.

She exchanged looks with Avi and Yuki and Akane all at once, who were just as in awe as they watched the flowers yawn open.

Ash let out a gleeful giggle, leaping. "It feels funny!"

Tears pricked Naia's eyes, and she smiled so wide, it cramped her cheeks. "I bet it tickles."

He dashed ahead of her through the sand, creating more footprints for the dahlias to grow in.

Ronin came to stand beside her. "Looks like your dad is here with us."

Naia wiped her cheeks with the heel of her hand. An overwhelming sense of happiness exploded in her soul. One she didn't know was possible. "It seems so."

Ronin's arm drifted around her. The chill of his fingers slid into the back of her hair, bringing a solace along with it as he pulled her into his side.

He kissed her on the temple. "Happy Birthday, babe."

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