Page 19 of Living Legend

He didn’t say anything for a minute as he held me. Eventually, he grabbed my arms and held me out in front of him, looking me over.

“I’m alright. Same old, same old.” He said that every time I visited. “You look well.”

“I’m doing okay I suppose.” I shrugged, not wanting to give away too much. His mustache had grown since the last time I was here, now down past his lips. It had specks of gray in it, the same as his hair and beard. We shared the same dark hair, but his was longer, meeting the bottom of his earlobes, curling outwards. “Smells amazing in there, dad.” I nodded inside.

He squeezed my arms and let go, motioning for me to follow him inside. “I was just about to have some lunch, if you’re hungry.”

“Is that even a question?” I teased, settling down in a wicker chair at the table. The house was small, but nice for a small family. The kitchen and living room were consolidated into one space, a bear skin rug in the middle of the room. There was a small closet in the far corner next to the fireplace with extra blankets and pillows. I remember lounging on the loveseat and never having to wonder if dinner was ready, because I could just look over my shoulder and see it.

The light outside was still bright, coming in through the square windows, but I looked up at the string lights my father had strung up for when evening came. I could see down the hallway leading to my bedroomand one of the bathrooms, to the staircase leading upstairs. The sound of taps and stirring pulled me out of my thoughts.

“I know it’s just soup, but I have bread from the baker that I think you’ll like,” he called from the corner, pulling some bowls down from the cabinet.

I chuckled. “You know I’ll eat whatever you make.” He was such a good cook.

I couldn’t hear his laugh, but I noticed the way his shoulders shook, confirming he approved. My father walked the bowls to the table, setting them down gently and going back for the bread. I got my height from him, so reaching tall things around the house was never an issue for us; it made me smirk to see his long arm effortlessly reach the top shelf before closing the cabinet door. He took the seat adjacent to mine and looked over his meal.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring youractualfavorite this time,” I joked, referring to Reese. He usually accompanied me on my visits home, even though he avoided his own family a few houses down. He had issues with his parents, and it was a rabbit hole he refused to dive down.

My father dunked some bread into his soup and popped it into his mouth. “Shame. How is the troublemaker?”

“Just as you’d expect.” Reese really hadn’t changed. He was just as loud and arrogant as ever, just taller. “As obnoxious as ever.”

“Is he still handling that bow like it's his first-born son?”

I shifted forward in my seat, laughing. “He cradles that thing like a damn baby.”

I scooped up some of the soup, blowing on it to cool it down. The garlic hit me instantly before the soup even touched my lips, but it was heaven, spicy but subtle. I peered up and noticed him staring at me.

“Could you be any weirder right now?”

“I’m just happy you’re home, that’s all,” he stated. I pressed my lips together and let out a breath. “Your company is always appreciated.”

I reached out to rip off a piece of bread. “I’m happy to be home, but you know I can’tstayright?” Each visit came with small talk, an update on my life, and the endless speech about how I could do better. “I love visiting you, but I’ll have to go back to my job.”

“Thank you for the reminder, Nicholas.” He shoveled more food into his mouth. We had just started eating and we were already at this point, the one where Reese would leave and wander into another room.

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want to fight, but you can’t keep trying to convince me to not go back.” I got my persistence from him, but I also got his stubborn nature.

“I’ve never once told you to not go back; don’t put words in my mouth.” He wagged his index finger at me, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Dad, you literally saidyou shouldn’t go back there, Nicholaslast time I was here.” I mimicked his words, taking another spoonful of my soup.

He dropped his spoon into his bowl and sat back in his chair. “I said you shouldn’t go back there if you plan to live the same lifestyle. Those were my exact words.”

“What does that even mean?”

My father let out an exasperated sigh. “I mean you’re so much more than they’re letting you be. You can’t really tell me you’re happy guarding posts and seeking souls.” I pushed my bowl away from me and placed my hands on the table at his mention of our weekly duties. Animus Seeking was what he meant -- soul seeking. Sentries were expected to fly around human lands and guide souls to Heaven, and I truly enjoyed it.

“It’s more than that and you know it,” I argued.

“I brought you to The Skies because you wanted to go so badly, and yeah, maybe I wanted to show you everything you could be. You’re a great sentry, but that’s not all youcanbe. They said they wanted you there because of your skills, but you’ve hardly used them. I’ve seen you with a sword, the way it calls to you. I bet you haven’t had any real chance to wield one.”

“It’s not my fault a war of bloodshed and death isn’t happening right now, like it happened to you.” He didn’t flinch at my reminder of his past as a sentry and revered angel.

My father ran a hand through his hair. “Then aim higher. You have always been a leader, my boy, so lead. I can have a talk with Jonah, if that's what it takes.”

I groaned, hating the direction this had taken yet again. “You want me to be an executive? You think it just works like that? Like I can go to Jonah and ask to be promoted? When he asks me why, I’ll just say my father would really fuckingappreciateit,” I spat back, crossing my arms over my chest.