“I will!” she squeals.
They circle each other like twin storms. Little blade swings high, parried by practiced defense; mock clashes reverberate faintly against the observation glass. Chelsea dips, lunges, sidesteps — always in motion, always bold. She’s laughing, eyes wide with pure joy and ferocity.
“I’m gonna beat you one day!” she announces, voice bright as bursting stars.
“I have no doubt of it,” Kallus replies, “but nottoday, little flame.”
I can’t look away. The laughter — their laughter — fills the deck like wind through open fields. It melts something inside me that I didn’t even know was still frozen. I inhale deeply — the scent of starsteel, warm blades, and the subtle sweetness of Chelsea’s hair wafting over me — and something like peace settles against my ribs.
Kallus calls out a feint. Chelsea ducks beneath it, spins, and taps him squarely on the shoulder with the dull edge of her blade. He feigns shock, staggers, and then both of them dissolve into giggles.
“You cheated!” she shouts — a claim half accusation, half grin.
“I did no such thing,” Kallus counters with a roguish smirk. “Your mind was too quick. I merely tested your reflexes.”
Chelsea huffs, but there’s mischief dancing in her eyes.
I run a hand through my hair, gaze drifting back to the stars — their infinite, perplexing dance of light and possibility.
There was a moment, not long ago, when I thought this life would never be mine. When I thought that prisons and broadcasts and war would be the sum total of my days. I thought I would never sleep without fear, I thought every horizon would be stained with loss.
But here we are.
Here, with laughter echoing against a window to eternity. Here, with blades raised not in violence but in play. Here, with a family that defies centuries of expectation, fear, and inertia.
A soft exhale escapes me — a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Kallus glances up at me, sword lowered now, and grins beneath starlight.
“You know,” he says, voice warm, “if she keeps this up, she’ll surpass both of us by her tenth name-day.”
I laugh — because it’s true, and because the truth feels light as comet dust.
“She already has,” I whisper.
Chelsea, hearing us, looks between us with that earnest squint children use when they know they're part of something big — and they want tounderstandit.
“Mommy! Daddy! You watching?” she demands, blade resting across one hip.
I nod. “We’re watching.”
She beams — that grin that’s half toothy confidence, half pure delight. She leaps off the deck and into another overhead lunge, laughter trailing behind her like fire.
And when I look at Kallus again, eyes dancing with glinting emotion, I think:
This is why we chose defiance over fear.
This is why we chose truth over hiding.
Not just for us.
Not just for Earth.
But forher.
For laughter that fills the vast silence like sunlight filling a room.
For starlight reflected in joy instead of dread.
