Send me āā§ā for a memory that brings them anger (for Lumien! :D )
"I heard that there was an incident during training today."
His father's inquiry caught Lumien off-guard at the dinner table. He stopped half-way through cutting a piece from his steak and looked up.
"A-ah, yes, in a way," he admittedly meekly. "It was a misunderstanding, however."
"You came to the barracks all muddy and Valencian punched someone due to a misunderstanding?" Malanieux interjected, raising an eyebrow.
Lumien turned his attention back to his plate, unable to face the questioning looks from his brother, father or mother. "Y-yes. He... he didn't really mean it - Valencian, I mean, or Grigoric..."
He wanted to find some explanation or excuse to dissuade his family from continuing the conversation, but words failed him, and he ended up trailing off. He could feel his dread rising along with the embarrassment.
"That boy is too brash for his own good... Maybe I need to have a word with my sister," she said before pouring herself another glass of water. "At this rate, what talent your cousin Valencian may have will be offset by his attitude, perhaps amongst other things."
Lumien's knife let out a nasty sound as it scraped against his plate by accident.
How can you say that? He is only trying to stand up for others and himself. And he is talented. Much more talented than I am.
The protest burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it nevertheless.
"He is not that bad. He is just... a bit impulsive, at times. A-and I went to apologize to Grigoric afterwards," he said instead. "And... and the rest of the training went well. We even had some... some visitors from the Fane who held a small lecture about the Elementals."
Lumien hoped that the change in topic would lead to a more pleasant dinner conversation - or, if that wasn't possible, have the discussion fade out altogether.
"Was Eloiniel one of them?" Malanieux asked rather neutrally.
The faint smile Lumien gave him ended up being quite short-lived. Malanieux simply nodded in return, but his parents' dubiousness was too evident to ignore.
"It's good that they promote cooperation between the novice conjurers and the guild, but..." Though his mother didn't finish her sentence, Lumien could fill the holes by reading the look on her face.
"Lumien, I know that Eloiniel is your friend," his father began, "and has been formally accepted as a conjurer trainee. Still, you have to consider that she is a Dusk--"
Another screech of metal against ceramic.
Don't. She is my friend, and she is doing her best and trying to be accepted. You are a protector of this forest; how can you be so callous towards some of its inhabitants?
"Please don't," was all Lumien managed to vocalize of his thoughts. His voice, however, was surprisingly sharp.
Silence fell onto the dining room, and for a moment, nobody seemed to move. Then everyone except Lumien slowly continued their meals in what felt like awkwardly quiet mood. He stared at his plate for a bit longer and then excused himself, withdrawing into his room.
They never spoke of the dinner incident again, but remembering it still makes Lumien feel an odd tinge of emotion which is both unnatural and a bit unsettling to him: anger.
...Whether he is angry at his family and their attitudes back then or at himself, he cannot quite say.