To grow or not to grow, there's no question

The old carpet helmsman ruffled Hale’s hair, “Happy 11th Deathday, young master!”

“Thanks… Hey!” Two smaller hands joined the rough and chubby man’s. “Quit that,” Hale swatted at the giggling kids and tidied up the bird’s nest on his head.

“But your head’s at the perfect height,” Ernest’s lip curled up meanly.

“I’ll outgrow you, just wait!”

“Don’t, stay our cute teeny weetle Hale.” The siblings hugged the sullen boy from both sides, giving him the full teddy bear treatment.

His growth spurt finally started last season but it would be a long time before he could overtake the siblings who shot up like bean sprouts. Even the younger Auretta was half a head taller than him. Why?! They breathed the same air and ate the same meals. Was it the insane amount of cake she had between meals? Whatever it was, he vowed to drink an extra glass of milk that night. He was malnourished in the previous life and slightly below the average male standard. This time he must grow taller.

The knights watching held back their smiles while one muttered enviously, “I want in too…” The carpet wasn’t large and everyone sat close so the boy caught the words.

“Are you asking for a pay cut?” Hale shot Ernest’s teacher a displeased look.

Amon’s lips protruded like a duck’s beak, “But no swordmaster in all realms is paid lower than me…”

“Feel free to move to another territory. We can foot the travel expenses, taking into account your years of service.”

“Young master, how can you think about sending me away? This Amon’s only wish is to bury his bones with the Tenebris family!” The exaggerated aggrieved expression looked completely out of sorts on the burly man. Hale found it harder and harder to retain his fake smile.

“Is that really all you want?”

“Of course, you can doubt my ability but not my loyalty!”

“Since you so desire, I’ll tell dad you don’t want your year-end bonus.”

“Young master!” Amon exclaimed, then turned to Ernest for help. “My dear disciple, say something to your brother. My future retirement is at stake!”

Ernest raised a brow and asked Hale, “Can I get a new sword with that money?

Amon looked like a bird dropping landed on his head. The large man weeped in disbelief, “They say it’s no use raising children…”

“To be fair, we raised you more than you did us.”

Although her brother used a joking tone, Auretta had an inkling Hale hated Amon. They were pretty close to the manchild in their childhood but Hale’s attitude changed since his 10th birthday. No, a lot more than that had changed… She switched the subject by asking the helmsman, “Mister, why don’t you join us for lunch?”

The man with a curly mustache expertly swerved the carpet to avoid a pegasus-drawn carriage. “The crowd’s too much for my old bones these days.”

The Homecoming Festival was a week-long event held in the Phasm capital when the boundary between the etheric and physical dimensions is at its thinnest. What was once a sacred and solemn event to appease the grudging dead and the grieving living had lost its meaning and turned into a tourist attraction. The old man sighed heavily as the carpet dipped, stopping a few inches off the ground at the landing point.

“See you kiddos back here at the wraithing hour. Not a minute after! The Earl will have my head if you’re back late.”

“Don’t worry, that’s what we’re for,” Amon winked and put an arm around his fellow knight who shrugged it off violently.

The helmsman ignored the dolt and patted Hale on the shoulder. “I’m counting on you.”

“...” Wasn’t something wrong if an 11 year-old is the most reliable of the bunch? Hale stuffed some bills into the man’s hand. “It’s going to be a long wait so get some food. I think Maggie’s has the Witches’ Stew you like.”

“Stop dawdling!” Ernest yelled, already in the queue at the city gate. The lean muscles of his arm rippled as he waved it up and down.

“Ignorant disciple, did you know? It’s a tradition to remove footwear at the gate so that the dirt from outside doesn’t contaminate the capital.”

From the pensive look on the boy’s face, Amon could tell that he believed him. Ernest should be glad that he wasn’t born in the capital which was rife with scammers.

“What? These city dwellers are so weird,” Auretta joined in from the side, pulling at her long skirt. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn the socks with little macarons. Would they think her childish?

Hale’s dense lashes cast a long shadow on his pale face as he watched Amon talk to his siblings.