#oc tempest

“And so, the Rakshasa and the Flumph lived happily ever after... the end. Would you like to hear another?”

(Children squeal with glee.)

“Me! I want to pick!”

“No, it’s my turn! Tommen picked last time!”

“Nu-uh!” “Uh-huh!”

(A shrill shriek.)

“All right, children! Settle down—no need to fight. We have the magic name bag, remember?

And no peeking... now, who did we get?”

“Puck!”

“Um... I want to hear the Bear Prince and the Fey Knight!”

“That old story? But you’ve heard me tell it so many times, I’m worried your ears will start to fall off!

What about... the Adventures of Balduran?”

(The children cry out ‘no!’ in unison.)

“Fine, fine!”

“I’ll be in so much trouble when Daddy Halsin finds out I’ve let you stay waaay past your bedtime again!”

(The children’s laughter tinkles like bells.)

This, Halsin mused, was precisely the reason he had come home ahead of his company—leaving the final stretch of the journey in the capable hands of his contemporary. He hadn’t had a proper night’s meditation since turning his back on the Trielta Crags, and he couldn’t bear the thought of his children going to bed without him there to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight.

The stars had begun to appear by the time Halsin arrived. He could still feel the remnants of wild shape sloughing from his legs as he crossed the porch, passing a snoring Auntie Adèle on his way up the stairs—three at a time—to the second floor. He ducked his head into each room until a faint noise made him pause. It was the sound of a woman’s voice, mingled with children’s laughter, seeping through the crack of a bedroom door. Not wishing to disturb them, Halsin peered inside. What greeted his eyes made the corners of his mouth curve softly and brought a stinging moisture of relief to his eyes.

Thank Silvanus—no, that’s not right... thank her.

There, under the warm glow of paper lanterns strung high among the branches, were his charges—listening intently as Tempest read to them.

And a bath too, no less... impressive.

A faint note of strawberry suds still clung to his little ones’ crowns. His children were safe, happy, and contented. His fatherly heart felt light as a feather. Halsin had scarcely taken a day off in the two hectic, eventful years since leaving Baldur’s Gate—unwilling to surrender Reithwin to its own devices, fearing what might become of his life’s work if he failed to watch over it, even for a day.

He knew well the wards in place: rites of bramble and impenetrable illusion, barring the way to those who thirsted for blood, yet parting for any soul seeking refuge. Even knowing how unlikely it was for any threat to bypass such measures, Halsin still could not—would not—let his guard down. Experience, and a lifetime of personal loss on a magnitude few outside his race could comprehend, had hardened his heart. After so many years spent searching for a way to undo the Sharran doom, he feared this callousness had become permanent. Always bracing for the inevitability of impermanence. And yet... the Forest Father had been kind to him these last few years—perhaps too kind. Which meant, surely, that something must soon go terribly wrong.

It cannot last, whispered that shard of unresolved cynicism lodged beneath his ribs—a wound that would never truly heal.

He still feared he might one day wake from this reverie, back to a reality where he was once more deferred to as Archdruid and Master of the Emerald Grove—suffocating beneath the weight of duty, unable to leave. A world where he could hear nature’s endless cries of suffering and do nothing. Overturned by a new generation of druids—those he had once guided but ultimately failed to save. The loudest among them, his disciple Kagha, had driven her venomous fangs into his heart, twisting the Tree Father’s teachings under a shadowed, ironclad fist.

But perhaps I need not face the shadows alone...

Fostering and caring for this little acorn of a dream, he could already see the beginnings of it sprouting—becoming more like an oaken sapling with each passing day. Perhaps now, Halsin thought, he was allowed to reap its rewards—by letting someone else step in to complete what he had begun. His legacy was written plain across the faces of the children he had plucked from the streets of war-torn Baldur’s Gate. He thought back to those early days when his little ones dared not close their eyes at night; how he’d kept watch in his rocking chair, meditating as the youngest of his cubs—barely surviving their first year of life—slept against his chest, their small bodies exhausted from crying.

I can still remember the smell of soot in their hair, and the salt of their tears...

The bear within him nested. Halsin had long believed himself inured to the passage of time, yet lately, he had begun to feel that telltale ache of longing—the fear of never returning to what he once believed could never concern a restless wanderer like him: a home. A place where he belonged. And a home built by his own hands, no less. But he could not take all the credit. Halsin found himself watching, open and unguarded; memorizing everything about the woman, regaling his children with a tale—and not just any tale, but a gentler, age-appropriate retelling of their first meeting. He found it hard to focus on her words. Instead, he lost himself in a pair of storm-faceted opals.

His heart did not stir easily.

But it does now...

Propped up among the cushions as she was, wearing a matching bear onesie beside her partner in crime, Moxie, she reenacted scenes with shadows and spellwork—to his children’s unending delight. Time and again, Halsin found his gaze drawn back to her: to catch the warmth of her smile, to soak in the tenderness of her voice, to bask in the rhythm of the heart beneath her lovely chest. And of course, Halsin was hardly immune to the human woman’s comeliness—vivacious, in full blossom. The sight stirred in more ways than one, even from where he stood, leaned beyond the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest.

When Sena had knocked on the door to Valen and Celestino’s cosy little home in Holistone, he didn’t quite know what to expect. It had been a week since he’d last visited the newlyweds, or his granddaughter Tempest, mainly due to them being rather occupied with moving out of the Moon Temple and into a space of their own.

Sena had been prepared for the usual amount of chaos, like Valen and Celestino’s combined teasing, boxes that hadn’t been unpacked yet, or even the littering of baby toys that usually accompanied the presence of a newborn. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for Valen to open the door looking like he hadn’t slept in days. The poor boy had dark circles around his eyes, his usually immaculate hair sticking up at odd angles, and his casual button-up shirt rumpled and…singed?

Sena raised an eyebrow at his son’s bedraggled appearance in a mix of surprise and concern. He could hear Tempest wailing from inside, the sound no doubt contained until now by Celestino’s soundproofing magic. Valen gave his dad an almost helpless look as if he was about to burst into tears.

Sena just sighed softly and nodded, making his way inside without a word as Valen trudged closely behind him. He walked over to the lounge where Cel was pacing the room with little Temmie in his arms, desperately shushing her as he attempted to soothe her current hysterics. Little Tempest, however, seemed dead-set on demonstrating her rather impressive lung capacity along with her newly developed vocal cords.

“I see little Tempest is already living up to her name…” Sena noted, his voice sympathetic even as it was drowned out by the sound of the screaming baby.

Celestino startled slightly, his head snapping sharply towards Sena before registering the new arrival, his posture relaxing once he realised there was no threat. That alone spoke volumes about how exhausted and frazzled the celestial must have been. Under any other circumstances, he’d have sensed Sena’s presence long before he’d arrived.

“Oh, Uncle Sena…” Cel acknowledged, looking relieved to see him. “Sorry for the chaotic welcome, and for…the state of things…” he said, barely audible over Tempest’s own voice. Both the celestial and the house were in a state of disarray, which seemed very out of character considering how orderly Celestino usually preferred to keep his space. Valen leaned heavily against the doorframe as he blinked blearily at the pair, letting out a tired hum of agreement.

“There’s no need to apologise, Cel. Having an infant must be very stressful.” Sena soothed, taking a look at the swaddled form in Cel’s arms. “Do you want me to hold her so you and Valen can take a break?” Sena offered gently, still keeping a respectful distance between them. As excited as Sena was to interact with his grandchild, he knew that Celestino’s protective instincts had been in overdrive since Tempest’s birth. Poor Aelius had even been treated to a lightning bolt to the rear because of an ill-timed joke he’d made.

Still, Sena wanted to help. He could see how drained of energy the young couple were, their weariness clear in Valen’s uncharacteristic silence and Celestino’s quickly crumbling composure.

Celestino hesitated for a moment, not too eager to be parted from his child, especially not when she was this distressed. But he was starting to feel desperate. He and Valen had tried everything to soothe Temmie. She had been fed, bathed, changed, checked over for any injuries or discomfort, and had even been offered every toy in the house. But nothing could appease the fitful little demi-goddess.

So in a last-ditch effort, Cel turned to Sena. Sena always knew what to do; surely this wouldn’t be any different, right?

“Please…” Cel pleaded, his voice cracking slightly as he held out the screaming bundle to Sena.

Sena’s expression softened as Tempest was transferred into his waiting arms. He gently cradled the fussing infant against his chest, letting her tiny head rest over the steady beat of his heart as he hummed and murmured softly to her.

Slowly, Tempest’s wailing simmered into a soft fussing before she finally settled down completely, looking at Sena with big, innocent violet eyes as if she hadn’t been screaming her lungs out just seconds ago.

Celestino’s shoulders slumped in that instant, and he looked like he might genuinely cry from relief. Valen just stared in a mix of disbelief, gratitude and a small amount of envy.

“How?!” Valen asked, throwing his hands up in mild frustration. “We’ve been trying to get her to settle for an hour now!”

“I don’t care how, as long as she’s finally calmed down…” Celestino responded, dragging a hand across his exhausted face.

“Don’t take it too personally, you two, you’re doing an incredible job. I just think the little demi-goddess missed having a steady supply of divine energy.” Sena explained, giving the baby a small smile as she nestled closer to his chest.

“Huh? Don’t I have a lot of divine energy though..?” Cel asked, blinking tiredly at Sena.

“Yes, but technically that’s your divinity, Cel. At the moment, a large chunk of your energy is going towards helping you recover, not just from childbirth, but everything else as well. You don’t really have much of it to spare, and whatever you do have is going towards little Temmie here…” he explained gently.

Cel stared at Sena uncomprehendingly for a long moment, his usually sharp mind dulled by fatigue. “So…Temmie is feeding off my divinity?” he asked.

“In a sense, yes, but it’s only until she’s old enough to sustain her own divinity by herself,” Sena reassured, before sighing softly when he noticed Cel blinking slowly at him.

“How about we discuss this later, Cel? For now, why don’t you and Valen take a nap while I watch Temmie?” he offered, his golden eyes flickering between the exhausted couple sympathetically.

Cel looked down at Tempest, who was busy staring curiously at Sena, as docile and quiet as a church mouse. Then his dark eyes flicked over to Valen, who was struggling to keep his eyes open now that the noise had stopped.

“Yes, please. She’s already got everything she needs for the next few hours, but there are diapers in the cupboard, and her milk bottles are already prepared if you need them. They just need to be heated up.” Celestino answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. He gave Sena a grateful nod and rushed out of the room, dragging a half-awake Valen behind him.

“Also, she might get a little sparky sometimes, but you can ignore that! It’s just how she expresses herself.” Cel tacked on, helpfully.

“Sparky?” Sena asked, sounding slightly confused.

“Too late, no takebacks! Thanks, Uncle Sena, you’re the best!” Cel said in a hurry, the door to their bedroom slamming closed with a definitive click.

After a moment of silence, Sena blinked down at the little infant in his arms as Temmie just studied her grandfather in return.

“Well, looks like it’s just us for the next couple of hours, huh, Storm Cloud?” Sena cooed, earning an affirmative babble from the baby Tempest.

Despite her earlier outburst, Tempest remained oddly calm for the next couple of hours, occasionally gurgling up at Sena as he set about helping to tidy up the house. He knew Cel and Val likely had a lot on their plates, still learning to juggle their duties to Esperia with their responsibilities as new parents, and Sena was ready to help in whatever way he could. Once the house was in relatively good shape, Sena once again glanced at Temmie, who had begun to grumble softly.

“I take it you’re hungry?” Sena asked, already making his way over to the kitchen.

Temmie wriggled in his grip, her grumbling intensifying as if urging Sena to hurry up. The mage couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her obvious impatience, grabbing one of the bottles from the counter and heating it up using his magic.

As Tempest’s irritation began to mount, there was an odd shift in the air around them. The atmosphere grew thick and heavy as magic permeated the space, static crackling, causing the hair on Sena’s arm to stand on end.

He watched in mild fascination as the electricity slowly coalesced around the infant’s tiny form, wind starting to stir around them from some unseen origin as if heralding an oncoming storm.

Sena calmly adjusted Tempest in his grasp, allowing his own magic to seep into the air too, gentle and soothing, but still insistent enough to smother the mounting charge in the air. Slowly, the brewing storm fizzled out, much to the confusion of little Tempest.

She let out a small, disgruntled noise, her tiny brow furrowing as she gave Sena an almost offended look for having thwarted her plans. She began to fuss, squirming and kicking; however, Sena just chuckled as he settled her against his chest again, propping her up a little so he could feed her properly.

“I know, I know. I’m the absolute worst. But I can’t have you wreaking havoc on a freshly cleaned house, especially not while your parents are trying to sleep.” He teased, his voice low and reassuring. He couldn’t help but give Tempest’s squishy little face a gentle prod, earning a confused noise from the baby demi-goddess.

Sena smiled to himself as he checked the temperature of the milk, before pressing the bottle to Tempest's lips as a peace offering. The infant seemed to find these terms agreeable because she latched on and immediately started nursing, earning an affectionate huff from her grandfather.

When Valen and Celestino finally woke up from their much-needed rest, they found Tempest sound asleep in her crib as Sena set the table for supper. Had they really ended up sleeping all day? And more importantly, what was that mouth-watering aroma coming from the kitchen?

Sena smiled gently as Valen and Celestino seemed to automatically search the room for signs of chaos that hadn’t happened, seeming almost suspicious at how smoothly things had gone. Sena didn’t take it personally; he’d also been suspicious whenever Valen had been well-behaved around others for a change.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, gesturing for the couple to take a seat as he started plating their food for them as if they themselves were children again. A plate of chicken alfredo pasta with two sides of garlic bread for Celestino, and a plate of the same pasta with chicken parmesan for Valen.

Cel’s eyes widened at the sight of his favourite dish, a childlike sparkle appearing in his dark eyes as he eagerly took a seat at the dining room table. “Oh, absolutely. I can’t remember the last time I got a chance to relax like that. Thanks, Uncle Sena.” Cel responded, already digging into his meal.

“Yeah, thanks, Dad. You’re an absolute miracle worker. I can’t believe that Temmie didn’t cry a single time…” Valen agreed, though he still seemed mildly annoyed at how easily Sena had handled things. That annoyance, however, quickly melted away as he bit into his food.

“Well, she did get a little fussy now and then, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle,” Sena explained, watching in mild amusement as both boys dug into their meals eagerly, not even slowing down to respond save for a distracted hum of agreement.

Sena left them to eat in peace as he went to check on Temmie, who was still slumbering peacefully. When he returned, they’d both just finished up their second portion as Cel dished himself his third.

Sena just smiled and shook his head. “Is my cooking that good, or are you two just extra hungry now that Temmie is taking up all your time and energy?”

“Both,” Valen said bluntly, giving Sena a thankful look. “We haven’t exactly had the time to cook a full meal from scratch since Tem arrived.” He explained.

“Mmph.” Cel hummed in agreement through another mouthful of pasta.

“Yeah, Temmie has kept us really busy, and it’s not like we have you, Dolly or the hamsters around to help. My fathers pop in now and then, but we’re pretty far away from the Moon Temple, and well…dad’s not exactly good in the kitchen…” Cel explained once he’d finished chewing.

Sena winced sympathetically at the mention of Dionel’s culinary misadventures, clearly remembering the time the celestial had somehow burnt water. “Ah, yes…perhaps it’s for the best that you’re not subjected to his cooking…” Sena said, sounding almost apologetic.

Valen and Cel just murmured in agreement before turning their attention back to dinner.

“But you know, if you miss having someone around that much, I could always pop in more often. I mean, Mary is handling most of the important Merlin duties right now, so I have some extra time. Plus, you can always come spend a few days at the Mystical House when you miss Dolly and the hamsters. It has been oddly quiet without you three around, and I’m sure they’d love to have Temmie back under the same roof.” Sena offered. That, and we have high ceilings that can actually handle stray lightning bolts, Sena thought to himself, his eyes flickering to the scorch marks randomly littering the ceilings and walls.

Cel’s fork clattered against the plate as he and Valen shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them before they quickly turned back to Sena.

“Please!” Val answered instantly.

“Oh heavens, yes. I swear, I’ve barely slept since Temmie showed up and you KNOW how much I need my beauty sleep, Uncle!” Cel added, rushing through his words.

Sena blinked in mild surprise, taken aback by the speed at which they’d answered. “Ah, of course, you know the Mystical House will always be your home if you need it, and I’m always happy to help,” he assured anyway.

Sena wasn’t expecting to be practically tackled by the pair as they clung to him, openly sobbing and rambling about how difficult things had been, but he recovered quickly enough to wrap his arms around the two of them as they vented.