Mom didn't tell me everything… but at least she told me something.

I surmised that she had been meaning to tell me this for a long time coming now, guess she just didn't know how to go about it properly. In hindsight, I bet she wished she had earlier prepared a script in case there ever comes a time like this.

Belated as it was, nevertheless, I'm glad she started her tale exactly how she did.

With a heartfelt apology.

"I'm sorry we've ignored you, I'm sorry that it seemed like we neglected you. I would never ever want you to ever think that of us. Your father and I love you and your sister with all our hearts… never doubt that, not even for a second."

Even as I was pissed, even when every fiber of my being was toiling in rage, I never once thought otherwise of her, of dad. I wanted to let her know that, but somewhere along the line, my words must have tripped over a twig or something for what left my lips instead was -

"You're not explaining it still. Mom, where were - "

"I didn't lie, you know?" Mom said before I could finish. "I decided I would come clean the moment I knocked at your door."

She raised a hand, that same hand that healed, that same that stroked - before my eyes, the sunlight from the open window embellishing just how frail and gaunt it had become, her skin was like a thin wrinkled blanket draped over her bones. It really was a harrowing sight.

"A cough is never just a cough," She laid her hand back on her lap. "Your dad's paranoia actually paid off for once."

I tried to swallow. Couldn't. Didn't realize how fast my throat had dried. "You collapsed again?"

"All the way down the stairs. Yeowch."

"But the doctor said - "

"Ah well, Dr. Harry is a nice man, a smart man… but he doesn't know who his patient really is, does he? What I am, what I have," A sad glance my way. "And neither do you..."

"But dad told me…"

I didn't finish the thought. How many more 'but's is it going to take for me to finally understand that I need to abandon everything I've been told? It's time to stop clinging onto past truths - cause just like Santa, none of them were real.

Mom's stare was rueful. "I'm not dying, don't you worry. Death is a non-concept for me… I'm just very, very sick is all. That fall was the worst so far… it's only my luck your sister was there to see it. It really was a nasty fall, I think she thought the worst."

"When was this?"

"Just a day before you sent us your first text demanding to know what was going on. I wasn't conscious for it… but your father certainly was. In-between worrying about me and calming your sister, I'm sure he did send you a reply back, yes?"

"Telling me that you'll all visit soon," I slow recounted, trying to bounce myself back from the first serving of the truth. "Message said nothing about this. Why hide it? I deserved to know, don't I?"

"Well… you know your father. He can be considerate in the most peculiar of ways. When I woke up, I asked him the same thing. Can you guess what he said? I'm sure you can."

It wasn't putting myself in dad shoes. All I had to do was think of the most roundabout way of answering my son's questions and demands, and I got my answer.

"He didn't want me to worry…"

Tumultuous applause lightly sounded from mom's slender hands. "That's my boy. Your sister was already a mess seeing the state I was in, and you, after everything that's happened to you, who knows how'd you react?"

I shook my head. "That's still not a good enough excuse for still hiding the truth from me after I already know about it - and how about those calls? Called the house phone over, and over and no one picked up."

"We weren't home, dear," Mom simply said. "A fall like that, while far from being my demise, still looked like a nasty fall. All I needed was my bed and a bit of rest, but that would look suspicious, won't it? Your father knew I'd be just fine but your sister doesn't know that. I needed to be in a hospital, she thinks I needed to be admitted - so to keep up that image, long story short… we were putting me on a stretcher and saying our hellos to Dr. Harry again.

"And I agree with you. You already knew the truth, there's no point hiding it in from you any further. I discussed it with your father - aw, that was a long, long night - but we eventually came to an agreement. Two days after my little accident, he was to pack his bags and set forth to city life. It was time that he and you have a one-and-one talk about how things really were."

Obviously, that never came to be now, did it? Two days after my first text, my first barrage of endless spam calls to our house, no Great Hero of the Past was knocking on my doorstep.

Something threw a wrench into the plans.

"What happened?"

Got met with another woeful glance, betraying the small smile that mom was doing her hardest to retain.

"Your sister happened."

What the hell is up with this string of unfortunate events here? First Mom, now my sister… all the while I've been playing housemates with fantasy folks, my entire freaking family tree was falling timber by a goddamn chainsaw - and I didn't know about it!

"Sammy, she's - what happened to her? Did she get hurt? Is she fine now? What even - ?!"

"Hush, hush," Mom gently placated my outburst with a raised finger. "Your sister's okay now… she's holding up fine."

"What made her not fine before?"

"Like father like daughter, you know?" She blew a breath. "I always say you took after me more than you did your father, and it seems like the total opposite is true too for little Samantha."

Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment, a few seconds to reminisce, to harken back. I don't think she was holding that memory fondly in her head by the looks of it.

She opened her eyes and continued.

"Your father got a call from her teacher that afternoon. He said Samantha was too distraught to focus on schoolwork for the time being, and all her pent-up feelings sort of culminated during recess. Her classmates reported seeing her punching the concrete wall at the back of the school over and over again."

I punched concrete before when I first realized I got duped by the mob - my knuckles didn't really like me too much after that, and here was Sammy doing it over and over again.

Ouch.

"So she broke her hands?"

Mom shook her head. "She was breaking the concrete."

Okay… now it's starting to click, now I'm starting to understand. Guess I wasn't the only one struggling to maintain a status quo.

'Augh…" I had both hands pressing against my cheeks, the second serving of the truth was a whole lot bigger than the first. "Sammy is… magic?"

"I told you, like father like daughter. When it comes to keeping their emotions in check, they're utter failures. Not us though, hm? We, on the other hand, well we can put up with a lot more grievances before we finally pop like a balloon. Case in point - "

Mom gestured her hand to all around, wearing a smirk as if having proved her statement - which, really… yeah, irrefutable alright.

"Your father and I were blindsided by the news. Watching you two kids grow up, none of you ever showed the usual signs of having any magical prowess, and we thought it better that way, we wanted it that way. And then suddenly you were questioning us about Leonardo, Terestra, Kronocia, Elf-Knights, Matriarchs - out of nowhere… meanwhile your seventeen-year-old sister is punching cinderblocks like they were made out of styrofoam.

"Samantha was a mess for a couple of days. She had very little control of her abilities - as she should - I know your father had some trouble too during his younger years. I was bedridden, and your dad needed to rein your sister back in. Answering you… meeting you... well, it was gonna have to wait till we sorted everything out."

"And Sammy?" I asked. "What'd you tell her to make her understand? I doubt she readily accepted what you two had to say."

Mom lightly chuckled. "Exactly that. It took a significant amount of time for her to start coming around to the truth. She didn't believe I could make her float till I did. Wish I had taken a picture… aww… could have shown you."

"And you told her what exactly?"

"As much as you know right, I suppose," She answered. "That your father and mother are both entities from another realm that migrated to Earth after said realm have been reduced to complete nothingness."

"By you."

"Yes," Mom nodded her head. "By me. Though I kept that part a secret from her, actually."

I furrowed my brow. "How come?"

"Because she will have no doubt asked me the very same question that you're about to."

There was a definite edge in her tone, it wasn't as if it was subtle. I glanced at her, and she was still meek, gentle, smiling a smile that bared no malice. It was her gaze that I didn't quite like.

No glares, no scowls - but there was just something off about the way she stared, so unnerving… a little bit bone-chilling.

Mom kept quiet, she didn't elaborate further on. I think she was waiting for it, waiting for me… waiting for that question.

So I took the bait, I bit - firm and hard into the slice of the truth.

"Why did you destroy Kronocia?"

And the truth was admittedly a little bit tough to swallow.

"Because I'm simply vile, dear. I'm evil, cruel… and because I yearned to do so. And if I'm ever given the chance to eradicate all those lives, destroy the entire realm once more, make no mistake - I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."