As they passed by many beautiful and grand houses—each with its own unique style and luxury—Sam couldn't help but glance at them in wonder. Yet, despite the elegance of these mansions, their carriage didn't stop. It kept moving toward a more modest home, the residence of his mother's family. They were nobles, yes, but of the middle rank—not among the highest.
After about an hour, the carriage finally came to a halt at the gates of the house.
Sam looked at his mother's face.
There was something in her expression that caught him—she looked both happy and sad at the same time, like memories were blooming and hurting all at once.
The family stepped out of the carriage together. Sam's father joined them, standing close beside his wife.
He leaned in and whispered so only she could hear,
"Dear… maybe we shouldn't go in. I don't think this will end well."
His wife gently took his hand. She didn't say anything—no words.
Just a soft smile.
A smile that quietly said, "It's going to be okay."
Then little Liya exclaimed with wide eyes,
"Mother, mother! Is this our grandparents' house? It's so big!"
Lane chimed in excitedly,
"Mother, are we going to live here?"
Before their mother could respond, Sam's father spoke firmly,
"We're only staying until Sam's awakening ceremony is over."
Their mother nodded with a calm smile.
"Yes, this is your grandparents' house. We'll be staying here for a little while."
As they were talking, a guard standing at the garden gate noticed them. He quickly stepped forward, saluted respectfully, and opened the gate. He had received orders in advance to welcome them.
**********
The carriage moved forward again, this time through the inner gate.
Inside was a breathtakingly beautiful garden, stretching far on both sides. Colorful flowers and rare plants bloomed everywhere, each section more vibrant than the last. The air was rich with the scent of blossoms.
The carriage followed the garden path and finally stopped near the main house—a large and elegant mansion, made with polished marble and intricate design. It stood tall and graceful, with carved columns, delicate windows, and a warm yet regal presence.
***********
As Sam stepped out of the carriage, he noticed an elderly couple standing at the entrance of the house.
graceful woman her posture was proud, but her eyes held a deep well of emotion.
Slowly, she began walking toward them.
The moment Sam's mother saw her, something in her broke. Without a word, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around the woman.
"Mother…" she whispered, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her face.
The elderly woman—Sam's grandmother—embraced her daughter just as tightly. A few tears slipped from her own eyes as well, even though she tried to remain strong.
In a slightly broken voice, she said,
"Vani… why did you take so long to come back?
You know… we can't live without you.
We were only angry… you know our anger would've melted in a year or two… Ahh…"
Vani buried her face in her mother's shoulder, guilt and sorrow pouring out with every word.
"I'm sorry, Mom… I'm so sorry…
I wanted to come back, I did… but… Dad… I didn't want to hurt him more.
I had already broken his trust…"
As Sam stood silently, lost in the waves of emotion around him, two small figures suddenly rushed past him.
Liya and Lane ran straight to their mother, throwing their tiny arms around her from behind.
"Mother, why are you crying? Haaa… please stop!" Lane said, his voice trembling, tears already welling up in his eyes.
"Stop crying, Mother! Haa…" Liya echoed, trying to be brave but sniffing as she held onto her tightly.
Vanisha slowly broke her embrace with her own mother. She knelt down beside her children, her smile trembling as she wiped their little faces with the sleeve of her dress.
"No, no… my sweet ones. Mother isn't sad," she said gently, brushing her fingers through their hair. "These are tears of happiness. Mother is just… very, very happy."
She then looked up at her mother again—her own mother, still standing with tears in her eyes—and said softly,
"Mother… they…"
But before Vanisha could finish her sentence, the elderly woman knelt down beside her, her arms opening wide, her voice thick with emotion.
"They're my grandchildren, aren't they?"
She pulled them close, hugging them tightly as if she had been waiting her whole life for this moment.
"They look exactly like you did when you were small…"
For a moment, time seemed to pause.
The pain, the years of silence, the anger—all of it faded in that quiet, tearful embrace beneath the warm light of home.
Sam stood there, just a few steps behind, silently watching the scene unfold in front of him.
He had never seen his mother cry like that before—not like this. It wasn't just sadness. It was something heavier… something that had been buried deep for years. Her shoulders trembled in her mother's arms, as if all the weight she had carried alone was finally too much.
And in that moment, Sam felt something stir inside him—something warm and painful all at once.
He realized, for the first time, that his mother wasn't just his mother.
She was a daughter too.
A woman who once ran away.
A woman who had loved and been hurt.
He had always seen her as strong, quiet, and distant from the past—but now he saw a fragile part of her heart that she had never shown.
Sam's fists tightened slightly. Not out of anger, but something closer to helplessness.
He didn't understand all the history between the families, but he could feel the ache in the air.
This house—so grand and beautiful—held stories that had shaped his mother's silence.
He looked down for a moment, swallowing hard.
"If this is what she was holding inside all these years… how much has she endured?"
And then, as if sensing his gaze, his mother turned her head slightly, her tear-streaked face softening the moment she saw him.
She reached one hand toward him, silently calling him closer.
That single gesture told Sam everything he needed to know:
Even in the middle of her pain, she hadn't forgotten him.
And now, he was part of this story too.
************
As Sam slowly walked toward his mother, his thoughts were in complete chaos.
What do I even say? he wondered.
'Hi, Grandma'? No… too casual.
'Long time no see'? But I've never even seen her before…
He took a deep breath, trying to push through the confusion, his steps hesitant but steady.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something—anything—an older man, who had been silently standing nearby with moist eyes, suddenly rushed forward.
Before anyone could react, the man wrapped Sam in a powerful hug.
Everyone stood frozen.
Sam's grandmother.
His mother.
Even his father.
All were stunned.
The old man—Sam's grandfather—held onto him tightly, his voice cracking as he spoke,
"My grandchild… why did it take you so long to come to me?
Why didn't you come before?
Why did you act like your foolish mother?!
I know she and that arrogant husband of hers are both too stubborn—
But you! You're old enough to travel on your own!
Why didn't you come earlier?
Do you not love your grandparents?!"
Before Sam could even begin to respond, another voice cut through sharply.
"And who are you calling arrogant, old man?!
If I'm so arrogant, why are you the one come to him, you stupid goblin!"
It was Sam's father, clearly irritated now.
Sam's grandfather turned around, eyes gleaming with mock anger, and shouted,
"Today is the happiest day of my life—meeting my daughter and grandchildren again!
But if it weren't for their presence, I swear I'd break both your legs!"
Then, pointing a finger dramatically, he added,
"And who are you calling stupid goblin?!
You stupid goblin!
Your parents—stupid goblins!
Your grandparents—stupid goblins!
Your whole bloodline—goblin nonsense!"
Sam's father, now visibly fuming, stepped forward and growled,
"You old—!"
But before he could finish, Vanisha quickly stood up and grabbed his arm.
"That's enough, dear," she said firmly.
At the same time, Sam's grandmother also stood, raising her voice gently but clearly,
"Enough! Today, our family has finally reunited after so many painful years…
And you two are starting a fight again?"
There was silence.
Then suddenly—awkwardly—a small laugh escaped from Sam.
And just like that, the tension softened.
Everyone turned to look at him.
He wasn't laughing at them.
It was that kind of laugh that comes when your heart is too full—when emotions mix so deeply, you don't know whether to cry or smile.
Standing in the middle of it all—between old wounds, clashing pride, tears, and laughter—Sam finally understood something.
'Maybe… time really is the best medicine,'he thought.
'Even the deepest wounds… eventually begin to heal.'
He looked at his mother, who now stood between her husband and father—still holding their arms, but this time not to stop a fight, but to hold the pieces of her past and present together.
He looked at his grandparents—flawed, loud, but full of love.
And he looked at his siblings, still hugging their grandmother tightly.
This, he realized, was family.
Messy, chaotic, painful—but still whole.
And for the long time, Sam felt something warm begin to grow quietly inside him again
***********
Slowly, the family began to walk toward the house together.
Sam walked a little behind the others, watching them move forward—his mother with her hand on her father's arm, her mother holding little Liya's hand, and his own father quietly beside them, muttering something under his breath.
As his footsteps echoed softly along the stone path, a thought stirred in his mind.
'My parents were separated from their own parents for twenty years…
Two whole decades of silence, pain, and pride.'
'And now… they're back. Just like that'
He had expected yelling.
He had expected blame, drama, maybe even cold shoulders and slammed doors.
But none of that happened.
Instead, there were tears.
Hugs.
Laughter through clenched teeth.
And the same old insults that somehow felt like love when they came from people who never stopped caring.
Sam exhaled slowly, glancing up at the sky.
'Maybe… maybe love doesn't always need to shout when it returns.
Sometimes… it just walks beside you. Quiet. Tired. But still there.'
Inside the grand hall, everyone settled onto the large, cushioned sofas. The atmosphere was relaxed and warm, though still charged with the energy of long-awaited reunion.
Liya and Lane were already bouncing up and down on the couch, giggling as if they owned the place
while a few servants brought in trays of tea and a variety of sweets, placing them gently on the center table.
Sam's grandmother sat beside Vanisha, holding her daughter's hand and asking in a soft voice,
"How did you live through all these years, Vani? Twenty years… without us?"
Her voice trembled, full of worry and guilt, as she continued to ask about everything—how Vanisha managed, where she lived, how she raised her children, and how she kept going.
Meanwhile, across the room, Sam's grandfather and his father sat beside each other—not speaking—but anyone could feel the storm brewing in the air.
They weren't talking with words, but with glares.
Sam quietly sipped his tea, trying not to get caught in their invisible battle. Just as he was beginning to relax, his grandfather suddenly spoke:
"Sam," he said, "have you thought about joining the academy after your awakening?
I know your lazy father probably hasn't even considered it."
Before Sam could answer, his father calmly spoke up, his voice firm but steady:
"Sam, I already had plans to send you to an academy.
But I didn't want to pressure you. I just want you to focus on your awakening for now.
Not everyone believes in throwing pressure on their children just to feel useful."
Sam's grandfather narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his teacup loudly on the table.
"I only asked because if Sam does want to go to the academy, he'll need to buy books, uniforms, supplies—everything.
And when the enrollment day comes, it's hard to find those things on time.
But some people"—he glared sideways—"have brains too small to think ahead about such things."
Sam's father smiled politely, though there was a sharp edge behind it.
"Sam," he said, "don't worry about any of this. I've already arranged everything—books, clothes, even the transport.
Unlike some people, I don't just talk about preparation."
His grandfather's face turned red.
"Sam," he said loudly, "I also arranged everything for you! Books, uniforms—all of it!
And trust me, my arrangements are better than your father's. His taste is... average at best. You should take mine."
Sam's father looked directly at him now, eyebrows raised.
"Sam. You should take mine."
Sam froze, teacup halfway to his lips.
Then—
"No, mine!"
His grandfather barked.
"No, mine!"
His father snapped back.
Across the room, Vanisha rubbed her forehead while her mother sighed deeply.
*********
As the two men continued their silent battle of pride over Sam's academy arrangements, Vanisha turned to her mother with a thoughtful expression.
"Mother," she asked softly, "this time… do you know how many children are participating in the awakening ceremony?"
Her mother shook her head gently.
"I don't know the exact number," she said, "but according to what I've heard, there are more than two hundred children this year."
Vanisha's voice lowered slightly, a faint note of concern slipping in.
"Mom… what do you think about Sam's awakening? Will he awaken properly?"
Her mother placed a hand gently over hers, her voice calm and reassuring.
"Don't worry, Vani. Everything will turn out fine.
You awakened well. Your husband awakened too.
When both parents are awakened, the chances for the child to awaken are much higher. Trust in that."
Vanisha took a slow breath, her heart calming with her mother's words.
Some of her hidden anxiety melted away—replaced by quiet hope.
Then her mother asked gently,
"Vani… do you know that after awakening, Sam will have to attend the academy?
He'll have to live in the capital for some time.
So… why don't you all just live here with us from now on?"
Vanisha smiled, warmth returning to her eyes.
"Mother, I've already discussed this with Sam's father," she said.
"He's made arrangements for us.
He's found a house in the capital, and… he's planning to start a new business there too."
Her mother's eyes lit up with pride and surprise.
"You both have thought ahead…" she said softly. "That's good."
In the background, the father and grandfather were still exchanging cold glances—each pretending not to look at the other while clearly waiting for Sam's final decision.
But between Vanisha and her mother, there was peace—at last.
*******
Vanisha's mother grew quiet for a moment. Then, in a soft and sorrowful voice, she said:
"Vani…
Your father and I—we're getting old now.
I don't know how much time we have left... how many more seasons we'll see, how many more sunrises.
The only joy we have in this fragile, tired life now… is you, and your children."
She paused, eyes growing misty as her voice cracked slightly.
"In the past… your father and your husband's pride—
It pulled us apart.
For twenty long years, I lived without you.
Without knowing my grandchildren.
Without hearing your voice or holding your hand."
Her hands trembled slightly as she continued,
"And now… now that we're reunited,
You want to live separately again?"
She shook her head slowly, pain and pleading mixed in her voice.
"No… I can't accept that.
I want to see my grandchildren grow.
I want to hear them laugh in this house.
I want to watch them take their first steps toward becoming fine young men and women."
She reached out and gently held Vanisha's hand.
"You have to live with us. Please, Vani… don't leave again."
Vanisha looked at her mother, her heart torn in two.
On one side stood her aging parents—longing, lonely, and full of the love they had once lost.
On the other stood her husband—proud, determined, and already making a new future for their family.
She didn't know what to say.
For a long moment, she just breathed quietly, her eyes lowered.
Then she took a deep inhale, lifted her gaze, and spoke in a calm and steady voice.
"Mother… I've spoken to Sam's father about this.
I'm trying to persuade him.
Please give me a little time."
Her mother didn't reply immediately—just tightened her grip, as if afraid of letting go again.