“Michel, I feel so bad for your son, having such a peanut-brained father. It’s common knowledge that a dog would wear their pants on their two hind legs.” My father and Frank trudged behind the wagon, still bickering despite having been ejected from their seats by Mia after she got fed up with their arguing. “They’re pants! They belong on the two hind legs. If a dog were to stand up, then it would be obvious that -”

“If they were to stand up!” Dad cut in triumphantly. “But do they? No! So the pants obviously belong all four legs!”

The inane argument continued behind the wagons as we traveled towards Furness City. Mia, sat cross legged on a bench with her hands crossed and eyes closed, appeared to be meditating to shut out the annoyance. After a particularly loud exclamation from Frank, Mia opened one of her eyes and grinned at the sight of everybody’s annoyed face in the wagon.

“They’re still going at it, huh? We missed you quite a lot, Faith, but I don’t think any of us missed this nonsense. You really don’t appreciate the peace and quiet until it gets ripped away from you. Frank will shut up if no one talks to him, but he never stops once you get going with him.”

Mother sighed. “Michel’s like that at home, too. He never stops talking. I swear, part of the reason I wanted to retire was to get away from this.” She gestured towards to back of the cabin, where my dad and Frank were still arguing about how a dog would wear pants.

Abella poked her head out of the back of the wagon. “Why can’t we just compromise,” she asked, “and give the dog a full set of clothes instead?”

Both my father and Frank snapped back in synchrony, “that’s not the same! Pants are pants, and clothes are clothes!”

In the front of the wagon, Ajax burst out laughing. “You used to try and stop them back then too, didn’t you?” He asked Abella. “The two of them will fight like cats and dogs until someone tries to stop their fun, and then all the sudden they’re the best of friends.”

The third party threat to their “fun” having left, dad and Frank got right back to bickering. “And your sword! Your sword, Frank! You may feel bad for my son, but I sure feel bad for anyone you marry in the future. Your sword is so small, I doubt you’ll have the prowess to defend your wife and kids from any threats.”

Frank shot back- “It’s not the size that matters man, it’s how you use it. My swordsmanship is leagues above you, Michie boy.” He thrust his longsword through the air a couple of times, miming stabs and parries.

Everyone in the wagon snickered at these comments. I looked at my mother in confusion. “Why was that so funny?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older, Gil” she told me. “But for now, lets start practicing your magic, alright? No fire in the wagon, so let’s start off with wind magic.”

“Michel tells me you can summon a flame already, right?” Lucina asked. I nodded. “Good. Let’s start by summoning a light breeze. Close your eyes, and concentrate. Now, breathe. In, out.” Her voice slowed down. “Push your mana into the air instead of gathering it by your hands. Focus on the air around your hands, and then just gently move the air.”

I raised my hands, and, like summoning a flame, pushed my mana to my fingertips, and then released the mana into the air. I could feel the mana exiting my body, but there was no immediate effect. “Can I open my eyes now?” I asked, my voice strained.

“Go ahead,” mom said, with a smile in her voice. “Take a look.”

As my eyes opened, I saw the three sheets of paper that had been sitting on the table gently floating in the air, spiraling down towards the ground.

“I… I made that paper fly?” I asked wondrously.

“You sure did, kiddo,” Lucina said. “Now, don’t let the paper touch the ground!”

I quickly stuck my hands out, mana flowing back to my hands. I pointed them at the paper, and… nothing. No gusts of wind to lift the paper, not even a gentle breeze. One stray breath of air wiggled one of the sheets of paper just the slightest bit, as if taunting me for my failure. My shoulders slumped.

“Guess I need more practice,” I groaned. “Let’s try that again.”