Reborn with Eyes of Fate-Chapter 27: A Cozy Morning

The subtle, different scents of each girl filled his senses — fresh rain from Naia, warm spice from Sythara, cool metal from Veyra, smoky vanilla from Lyria, and blooming light from Yena.

He smiled softly.

Without thinking, he tightened his arms around whoever he could reach.

Naia grumbled sleepily and snuggled closer.

"Mmm, warm..." she mumbled, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

Lyria stirred next, blinking blearily at the sunlight.

"What? Morning already?" she groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes.

"I refuse. It's illegal. I want to sleep more."

Veyra cracked one eye open.

"You can't outlaw the sun, Lyria."

"Watch me," Lyria grumbled.

Sythara chuckled low in her throat, the sound like a gentle rumble.

"Ugh...Be gentle Lyria...You're loud this early," she teased.

Yena blinked sleepily, her voice a soft whisper.

"Is it... really morning?"

Evon kissed the top of her head gently.

"It is," he murmured.

For a few more minutes, they simply stayed there, unwilling to leave the cocoon of warmth and safety.

Finally, Evon stretched, careful not to dislodge too many of them, and said, "It's already too late, We should get breakfast started."

Groans of protest answered him.

Naia pouted, clinging tighter.

"Nooo. Stay. I want to hug you a little longer."

"I agree, it was soooo comfortable" Veyra said, her voice muffled against his arm.

"Stay twenty more minutes."

"Five hours, enhance your analysis Veyra" Lyria corrected.

Yena giggled shyly.

"I wouldn't mind staying like this... forever."

Evon laughed softly, shaking his head.

"If we don't get up, there won't be any breakfast."

At that, Naia sat up dramatically, hair sticking out wildly.

"Fine!" she said.

"But you're making it!"

Evon smirked.

"Deal."

One by one, they untangled themselves, stretching, yawning, blinking into the soft golden morning.

Naia and Lyria wandered toward the kitchen, bickering about what kind of pancakes to make.

Sythara and Veyra quietly tidied the blankets, moving with practiced ease.

Yena hesitated, standing shyly near Evon.

He offered her his hand, smiling warmly.

"Come help me," he said.

She brightened immediately and slipped her hand into his.

Together they moved into the cozy kitchen, where the morning chaos was already beginning.

---

Naia was waving a frying pan around like a sword.

"Pancakes! No, waffles! Pancakes!" she argued with Lyria.

Lyria was tossing flour in the air like magical powder.

"WAFFLES are superior!"

"Blasphemy!" Naia shouted.

Sythara sighed heavily, massaging her temples.

"You're going to set something on fire."

Veyra leaned coolly against the counter, sipping tea.

"I'd bet money on it."

Yena clung nervously to Evon's side, laughing softly.

Evon rolled up his sleeves.

"Alright, alright," he said, stepping between the chaos.

"We're making both. Settle down."

Naia and Lyria immediately brightened.

"Yay!"

Evon handed bowls out to each of them.

"You, Naia — pancake batter. You, Lyria — waffle mix. Sythara, Veyra — supervise."

"And me?" Yena asked softly, wide-eyed.

Evon grinned.

"You and me are on toppings duty. Berries, cream, syrup."

Yena beamed.

They moved like a small, chaotic, happy army — measuring, mixing, laughing, arguing over how many berries was "too many" (Naia insisted there was no such thing), taste-testing the batter ("Quality control!" Lyria claimed), and bumping into each other in the narrow kitchen space.

At one point, Veyra actually laughed — a low, genuine sound — when Naia accidentally flung batter across the counter and hit Sythara in the face.

Sythara just stood there, eyes closed, batter dripping off her nose, and said in a deadpan voice,

"I am contemplating whether to retaliate... or ascend to a higher plane of existence."

They all broke down laughing.

Even Yena, usually so shy, giggled so hard she had to lean against Evon to stay upright.

---

Eventually, they gathered around the big wooden table.

Stacks of golden pancakes and crisp waffles towered in the center, surrounded by bowls of fruits, whipped cream, syrup, and butter.

The smell was heavenly.

Evon watched as his companions dug in, laughing, stealing bites off each other's plates, teasing and joking.

It was chaotic.

It was loud.

It was beautiful.

Yena sat beside him, carefully piling her plate, stealing glances at the others, a shy smile on her lips.

Evon nudged her gently.

"You don't have to be shy, you know," he said softly.

Yena blushed.

"I'm just... happy."

"Good," he said.

"Get used to it."

She looked at him, eyes sparkling.

"I will," she promised.

Across the table, Naia caught his eye and grinned wickedly.

"Hey, Evon?"

He raised a brow.

"If you don't feed me a pancake, I'm divorcing you."

Lyria choked on her syrup.

"You can't divorce someone you're not married to, dummy!"

"Technicalities," Naia waved airily.

Evon laughed and forked a pancake, holding it out to her.

Naia bit it dramatically, humming happily.

"See?" she said through a mouthful.

"This is love."

Sythara reached over and plucked a berry off Evon's plate without a word, smirking.

Lyria fed Evon a piece of waffle coated in delicious cream and berries.

Veyra sipped her tea serenely, but Evon caught the way her foot brushed lightly against his under the table.

Even Yena, emboldened, leaned over and dropped a strawberry onto his plate with a shy wink.

Evon sat back, heart full.

This — these small moments, these messy, chaotic, beautiful mornings — were everything he had ever dreamed of.

And more.

---

The sun climbed high above their peaceful residence, casting a warm golden hue over the training grounds behind the house. A soft breeze carried the scent of the sea from the distant cliffs, and somewhere nearby, birds sang lazily in the trees.

It was the perfect afternoon.

And today, for once, there was no urgent mission, no dark beasts to slay, no world-ending threats lurking just beyond the horizon.

Just time.

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Precious, unhurried time.

Evon stood at the center of the open training yard, his cloak left indoors, wearing only a simple black shirt and fitted trousers. His boots crunched lightly against the packed earth as he stretched his arms out, breathing deeply.

Around him, his companions gathered slowly.

Naia came first, barefoot, her ocean-blue hair tied loosely behind her. Her light garments fluttered in the breeze as she approached with a playful grin, bouncing lightly on her toes.

"I bet I can pin you down first," she teased, her voice lilting with mischief.

Evon smirked.

"You're welcome to try."

Next was Veyra, her steps measured, precise. She wore sleek training armor forged from her cyber creations, silver and dark violet, form-fitting but flexible. A thin, sharp blade hung loosely in her grip — less a weapon today, more a practice extension of herself.

She said nothing, but the glint in her eye spoke volumes: she was here to refine, to sharpen, to improve.

Sythara followed, her towering draconic form emanating a calm, overwhelming presence. Her wings were furled close to her body, and her talons were blunted for training, but even so, she moved with a power that made the ground seem to hum with each step.

"Don't expect me to go easy," she warned Evon, her voice low, a purr of dangerous amusement.

Evon chuckled.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Then Lyria bounded in, her hair tied in a hasty ponytail, flames dancing lightly around her fingertips.

"Who's ready to get sweaty?" she called out, tossing a wink at Yena.

Yena, blushing deeply, followed timidly behind her.

She wore a simple white and gold training dress, light and flowing, clearly not used to physical sparring yet. But her determination shone brighter than the afternoon sun.

"I-I'll try my best," she said, voice soft but steady.

Evon looked at all of them, pride swelling in his chest.

Each of them so different.

Each of them so beautiful in their strength.

And all of them his.

"Alright," he said, voice carrying warmly across the yard.

"Today's not about fighting. It's about moving. Trusting. Feeling each other's rhythm."

Naia perked up.

"Feeling each other? I like where this is going."

Veyra rolled her eyes.

"Control yourself. It's training time."

Lyria grinned.

"Not a chance."

Even Sythara huffed a quiet laugh, while Yena smiled, her nerves easing in the playful atmosphere.

Evon raised a hand.

"We'll start simple. Pairs. Flow exercises. No hard strikes. Just... connection."

They nodded, forming loose pairs naturally: Naia with Veyra, Lyria with Sythara, Yena stepping hesitantly toward Evon himself.

He smiled and offered her a hand.

"Would you like to dance with me, Yena?"

She giggled softly, slipping her delicate fingers into his.

"Yes, please."

---

The training yard became a living thing.

Naia and Veyra circled each other like water and steel — Naia's movements fluid and wild, Veyra's sharp and precise. They clashed hands lightly, spun, laughed, adjusted.

"You're too stiff!" Naia teased as she ducked under Veyra's arm.

"And you're too reckless," Veyra retorted, managing a slight smile.

Nearby, Lyria and Sythara moved in a fiery dance — flame against shadowed scale. Lyria darted forward in quick, snapping jabs, only to be gently batted aside by Sythara's wing or tail.

"You're holding back!" Lyria accused.

"You're fragile," Sythara replied smoothly.

"I am NOT!"

"Then prove it."

Their laughter rang out like bells, bright and bold.

And at the center of it all — Evon and Yena.

Their pace was slower, gentler.

Yena was cautious, unused to combat, but Evon guided her patiently, moving their hands together, stepping side by side, mirroring each other's breathing.

"You're doing wonderfully," he whispered as she managed a simple pivot.

"I feel clumsy," she admitted, cheeks flushed.

He smiled, squeezing her fingers reassuringly.

"Clumsy is just the first step to grace."

She looked up at him, eyes wide, green like the most vibrant spring leaves, and smiled shyly.

Around them, the sun dipped lower, bathing the entire yard in a warm, amber light.

Sweat gleamed on their skin, but none of them cared.

They moved in time with each other — flowing, stumbling, laughing, breathing — a harmony that had nothing to do with battle and everything to do with trust.

---

Hours later, they collapsed under the ancient oak at the edge of the training ground.

The tree's massive branches stretched overhead, casting deep, cool shade.

Evon lay back in the grass, arms spread wide.

Naia plopped herself down across his stomach, sprawling lazily.

Veyra sat nearby, meticulously wiping down her blade, but her posture was relaxed, her cybernetic arm resting casually on her knee.

Sythara leaned back against the tree trunk, wings half-spread to catch the occasional breeze.

Lyria was sprawled out beside her, tossing pebbles at Naia and snickering.

Yena curled up next to Evon, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.

The air smelled of earth and sweat and sunlight.

For a long while, they simply lay there, breathing, hearts beating in lazy sync.

Finally, Naia spoke, her voice drowsy.

"This... is nice."

"Mm," Sythara agreed, eyes half-closed.

"We should do it more often," Lyria added, tossing another pebble that bounced harmlessly off Naia's hip.

Veyra nodded, glancing at Evon.

"It strengthens more than the body."

Yena turned her face into Evon's shoulder, whispering,

"It feels like... a family."

Evon's heart tightened at that.

He gathered them all in his gaze — these fierce, beautiful souls — and smiled softly.

"It is a family," he said simply.

Silence fell again, but this time it was warm, full, rich with unspoken promises.

Promises that no matter what came next, they would face it together.

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