Being the Former Archon's Live-in Cook

Act 9

(15 years old Y/N, 3 years ago)

"Mom, will dad be home by today?" You ask for the millionth time. Judging by your beloved mom's expression, she'd already had enough of that question already and decided to let you play outside with the kids but you were persistent.

"Y/N, I keep telling you. He'll be back when the sun sets. You know how your father is."

"No... I really don't. You should tell me more about him..."

Your mom raises an eyebrow at you as she busied herself in the kitchen, tying her apron in place and letting you indulge in the sweet aroma of the food wafting around like a delectable haze fogging your humble abode. 

"Is that so?" she still couldn't believe it. At a young age, you did formulate that given your dad's talkative personality, he wasn't one for being silent, especially towards his one and only son. 

"Whenever we talk, it's always about the adventures he's gone off to or the types of food he'd teach me to cook." 

"While I'm setting up the food, why don't you and I talk more about your father then?" 

"Okay!"

Being indoors for most of your childhood, you'd rather spend most of your time confined to your mom's study, reading about the world through the pages. You'd sponge up the content as fast as you could, given your youth, it was easier to digest all of the information with a carefree and most indefatigable energy. Eventually, you would go on to entertain and form active friendships with your neighbors' kids. Mom stressed the importance of good relations.

Good relations fostered a future for better social dynamics and while you were most keen on preferring space to yourself, the world was a big place. And your mind was capable of understanding and taking that reality in. At some point, people will come and go, along with those you cherish. It was important to realize that soon and be able to adapt to a universe that was fleeting but immortal. The more people you meet in life, the more they will disappear and reappear. 

You sat on a chair in the kitchen, listening to your mom go on and on about how she met your dad through an encounter with monsters. The man, according to her, shined unlike any other in the heat of battle, as corny as it was. For the intelligence and promise of a good husband granted to your mom since birth, her family had been heavily disappointed when she contemplated going on a date with your dad instead of her long-time suitor who'd been constantly on her heels since childhood. 

He was loud, abrasive, and was an absolute contradiction to the highly-sought love candidate your mom desired. He was cumbersome in interactions but always honest. He was lazy but knew what to do when he needed to. He wasn't the best with clothes but he knew how to charm all kinds of people without them despite that wild nature of his. 

One date became two, then three, then five more and it was already enough indication with a myriad of meet-ups and union in their contrast that your mom thought she'd like to spend a lifetime with him. He was that good. 

"Mom, I didn't ask how he courted you..." You didn't want to listen to the minute details. You just wanted to know what were your dad's hobbies, what were his friends like. Was he never afraid in his life? You don't really know what type of expression that would be on his face. 

"Oh hush. You didn't want to talk about adventures anymore, right? And you're asking me so I'm giving you my perspective." 

"Fine..."

You just wanted to make sure she wouldn't drag that relationship spiel on for long before she got to the specifics. 

"He wasn't your typical guy. He'd always do something that was unpredictably stupid but it would always work out in his favor."