Sandro looked at his father with pity in his eyes.

First, he felt a great deal of anger towards him. Then, things calmed down.

Now he even felt that he understood his father a little bit. He was just a lonely man, running from reality.

Times had been rough in the past decades.

The Kingdom had expanded its borders, and he himself had gone to the frontlines a couple times.

There he learned important values. His generals had families, relationships. He met people and learnt that a mother protecting its weak child was capable of using more power than a woman protecting herself.

He had grown considerably. With his grandmother as his mentor, life had mostly turned 180 degrees.

Indeed…

Looking at his younger siblings, it was clear that they also had had some similar experiences.

His grandmother was good at reading people and directing them towards their growth. So, when she told them of her decision, he wasn’t surprised.

His father… was probably the only case she was never able to properly take care of.

Was it because he was her son? Or was it because he was a lost case?

Sandro didn’t know. But he knew that, if his grandmother said so, then that was the best path possible.

His faith in her was… complete.

***

Pietro looked at his father, a little bit of sadness and pain welling in his heart. He hadn’t mastered all the Mental Resistances yet, as most as he loved grinding them above everything else.

It was a surprise how much he loved grinding. Had it been not for his grandmother, and he would have stayed inside his father’s kitchen his whole life, eating and play-fighting with his sister.

He would have never found his true passion. He would have lived a mild life, and well up unsatisfaction inside of him, to the point where he filled himself with gold and intoxicating foods all day long.

Gold was delicious for a dragon. Delicious like heroin. Wasn’t his father simply an addict? Maybe he, himself, could also be considered an addict, seeing as how he had decided to devote his whole life to reach higher and higher power levels.

“At least max level” - he said to himself - “then I’ll find something else to do”.

Maybe collect cards? Whatever he liked to do at the time. Regardless of what, it didn’t include that gooey, sticky emotional dependence his father had generated in the family.

It didn’t include staying still, in fear of losing what he had… only for that to rotten away.

***

Sandra pouted a bit. That was so ridiculous. What was the need to let her father know?

Just send him a message inbox and be done with it!

She had better things to do! The Elf-Gnomish Art Expo would happen in five days! She hadn’t finished preparing her piece yet, and now here they were, dealing with her failure of a father!

Oh, certainly she loved him. But love didn’t equal praise and worship. She had her own husband already, and planned on laying her first egg in five to six years from now. But her father couldn’t even start to fathom that.

Were they his eternal children? Maybe they would be, had they not been trained by her grandmother.

Aaah… and don’t even start on her grandmother! The old woman was merciless! She even wanted for her to get rid of her husband, just because he liked to stay at home!

He isn’t your son, grandmother! He doesn’t sleep all day long! He even knits for me!

Emotional Intelligence. That was the bigger difference between a dragon and a human. As much as they had lived over twenty awaken-years, at the time before her grandmother came back home, they were still children on their minds.

Their mood would fluctuate wildly, strong emotions could even make them sick. They would not understand maturity, not matter how much had them lived.

…and they didn’t live much, truth be said, as it was twenty years of semi-captivity. The most time they expended outside would be on dungeon-conquering trips.

Leaving a dungeon only to explore another dungeon. Dungeon’s all the way in!

She liked art. She liked living freely and wildly. She liked songs, people, trills and the glitters of the court!

She liked to make gossip and she loved intrigue - as long as it was just a small game of wits, as she would make it to be.

As long as no one gets hurt, it is just a game.

Luckily for her, it was a game that was useful in real life as well. From the three siblings, she was the first one to master all Mental Resistances.

From there on, all she had to do was to accompany her grandmother and build her circle of friends. They had their small codes of conduct and betting rules.

One could bet a dukedom, while other would bet their possessions. If someone ended up in too bad of a shape, they would be given some time to recover before returning to the game.

Then, there were also nights-out, days-out, family time… was it so difficult to make betting into something positive?

She found it natural. One could bet futile things with friends, but should never bet against a real enemy. It should be assured victory.

That was how she liked to live, and family life was how she liked to relax when she wasn’t doing her business. Art… well, it was a hobby.

Regardless, her father was a dark spot on her perfect life. She wouldn’t dismiss him, obviously. But she also wouldn’t mingle on his own hobbies.

…which could be summed up on sleeping and making his family waste their potential.

“You’ll always have a spot on my heart, dad… just maybe not the one you fantasize about.”

***

Elicia felt a cold sensation spreading from her lower abdomen. It was like taking a cold bath on a hot summer, or eating Ice Cream on the beach under the sun.

Refreshing.

So many decades. So many decades she wanted to do this. But she didn’t have the strength to.

“Why did I marry him?” - Was how she first thought about the matter - “Because I love him!” - Was how she answered for herself.

Then, she loved someone else. Then, someone else. And she kept loving people. Never breaking her vows, but, still…

The children came. She loved them. She loved them as much, if not more, than she loved her husband.

But she was unhappy. She had small infatuations here and there. She had administrative work to distract herself.

She would go to balls on Dungeon City and dance. She would visit weird people and laugh with them while thinking about the craziness of the world.

Sometimes, she would fall in love with someone else.

But she always returned home, past loves forgotten, infatuations deflated, husband sleeping on his bed.

She then learned how to live a love story with someone, without ever needing any kind of contact.

No kisses, no hugs, no sex. Just looking passionately at each other, doing things together, spend time with each other.

She had had a handful of such “imaginary husbands”. Some made her laugh, some made her mad, some took her to do things she never thought about doing, while others… well, they went away with the wind and she never saw them again.

A few died as well.

The good thing about those “imaginary husbands” was that they weren’t too deeply involved with her. They were free, and they usually didn’t care about others.

Of course, jealousy was something that happened all the time. But so, what? She was married in the first place, so, what to say except laugh?

She had good times and bad times. Vows of eternal love and heartbreaks. And then… she was satisfied.

She didn’t need it anymore. She started to look around her, and saw that, in terms of partners to share joy and sorrow… there was no need to compromise.

Good friends could be closer than partners. Confidants were more precious than people you’re infatuated with.

She had been betrayed before by some of her “imaginary husbands”. They humiliated her, or made things that broke her heart.

And so, she started giving more value to people who stayed by her side as friends than to those who she felt like kissing, hugging and having kids with.

More wonderful yet, wouldn’t people who did those kinds of things while also remaining friends, no strings attached, be even better?

Somewhere inside of her was the mentality of a matriarch. Of someone who isn’t affected by compromise. Of someone who gives what they want to give to those they want to give, and then take it back at any time they feel like it.

Of someone who gives more value to the moment than to past. To words spoken now than vows made in the past.

She was poison for someone like Jack. And still, she desired him and he desired her. Maybe it was just destiny that both had to end up married. Maybe they had something to learn with each other.

…but that was in the past now. Before she knew of herself, before she knew how to keep in the present moment the vows made in the past. Before she knew how to sort the people around her, how much confidence to give to each and which were the consequences of sharing this or that to those or these people.

Now, the old husband of her… well, she felt he was past. That he had nothing else that she liked.

Even the link they had as friends, as confidents, was lost in time as he slept and she couldn’t share her joys and sorrows with him.

He didn’t know her anymore. So, were they really married in the first place?

Elicia looked at Sasha. Her mother-in-law had helped a lot, that was for sure. She herself wouldn’t have been able to do things that smoothly without her help.

Without her guiding and serving as a supporting pillar for her children, so she could sort out her own feelings and have her own experiences.

Then, at first, she asked herself “what’s this ‘she loves another man’ thing?”. He wasn’t wishing to divorce in order to go live with someone else.

She didn’t wish to build this kind of relationship with anyone else, ever again.

And then… she saw Jack’s reaction. She saw how he basically begged for mercy. How he asked for… what?

A bond. A bond of marriage… a bond of… dependence?

What did he want him for? What kind of relationship did he want to build?

She noticed how he unconsciously deactivated some skills.

He himself didn’t know what he wanted. She had a clue. Maybe what he wanted was to be more like her - free, polygamous, unhindered by the people around him.

But maybe he didn’t. She had no way to know.

Because she had done all that she could in order to help him reach this, and now was time to take another step - allow him to detach from this bond they had formed, and be free to finally build something new.

With someone else, maybe?

No, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do that. He would probably look for her for a long time, almost like a stalker.

And then… he would probably start to look for people who were like her, and in this process…

Oh, it was useless to think about what he would do. There she was, fantasizing about the future.

What was she, an oracle? Was this a bad habit she took from him?

She pressed the divorce button, and then confirmed the option a couple times.

*You’re now single again! *

She closed the pop-up window and decided never to touch that DLC pack again. It was nauseating.

***

Sasha gave the others a quick glimpse, before focusing back on her son. The poor thing would need help. She sighed inwardly and got ready to do her part.