Rethais sighed as he climbed out of bed and wearily made his way to the bathroom. He sighed some more as he relieved himself then washed his hands and face, then continued to sigh as he wandered back into the bedroom, staring at the empty bed. Lysar was already awake, up and about, he could hear her moving around downstairs talking to one of the kids.
Sighing a little more, Rethais put a stomach wrap and some light armour on to cover his modesty, then made his way downstairs. Like most modern Rethan homes, the bedrooms and bathrooms were laid out on a half-floor, with a balcony overlooking the kitchen, living area and fire pit. From there, he could see his eldest kid Relkay lounging around on the sofas, while Lysar and his adopted son Trismit were in the kitchen, chatting away happily.
Normally, the kids all had their own homes to live in, they were adults after all. But all three of them had agreed to move back in with Rethais and Lysar, so their houses could be used by the homeless. A common Rethan thing to do in times of need. After all, not too long ago, there had been quite a few disasters.
Rethais paused, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. That last thought stuck with him though. Disaster was the wrong word. Catastrophe wasn’t strong enough either. Most of the damn universe had been destroyed, and there Rethais was, in his fancy modern apartment, in a bad mood, living with his partner and kids.
“Rethais, dear!” Lysar beamed as she spotted Rethais standing on the balcony. “Did you sleep well?”
“No.” Rethais grunted, making his way downstairs. He was beginning to feel slightly hungry and Lysar was cooking, so he decided to go and inspect what was going on. “Night terrors. As always.”
“I thought so. I decided to let you sleep in. You do not have work today anyway, might as well rest.”
“It did not help…” Rethais sighed as he sat down, cautiously eyeing Trismit. Trismit was happily stirring up things in a bowl. “What are you making?”
“Lemon cake!” Trismit chirped. For someone who had been through a lot of trauma recently, Rethais couldn’t work out why Trismit was so happy. “You seem really glum, dad.”
“I am very glum, kid. What I cannot work out is how you are cheerful, despite all that has happened.”
Trismit shrugged, thinking to himself while he continued to beat the ingredients in his bowl. “Most likely a combination of severe head trauma and memory loss, having been stripped of my responsibilities and being placed with a caring, loving family for the first time in about two decades! If I had to work like you do… I would probably be a chittering mass of mess…”
Rethais blinked, surprised at Trismit’s honesty. “I… am so sorry for what you went through.”
“Nah, not your fault a big dragon decided to throw me at a bunch of golden warriors!” Trismit laughed.
Lysar and Rethais both glanced at each other with a worried look, then decided to alter the subject.
“He does have a point though, dear…” Lysar smiled. “You are completely overworked. Maybe… Maybe you need a proper holiday, rather than these few days off? You are a Rethianos but you are not a god.”
Rethais fell silent, not finishing his sentence. Lysar was right, he was not a god. He was a mortal working for a god. Being overworked. Work was pretty much all Rethais did. And he was frankly rather sick of it. “Hm. Maybe I will take an extra holiday… I wonder how much holiday time I have saved up from all my years of work…”
Lysar grinned, handing Rethais one of his wristbands. The answer Rethais sought was already displayed on the small screen.
“Two years and Six months?” Trismit blurted. “That is a biiiig holiday!”
“Well… I never actually took any real time off… Not as Vice General, not as High General, and not even when I served as a normal General…”
“Take the time off!” Trismit beamed. “Take it off and spend the time with your family and me!”
Rethais paused, then turned to Trismit. “Kid, you are part of the family, no need to exclude yourself.”
“Oh. Force of habit, I guess…” Trismit shrugged. “But yeah! Holiday! And if you do not want to go on holiday in a time of turbulence, then just throw some charitable work in the middle!”
“Hey!” a voice perked up from the living area. “Where did you find someone to adopt that sounds exactly like Revan yet isn’t Revan?”
“What do you mean, Relkay?” Lysar asked as she peered into the living area.
“Trismit is not always right, but, just like Revan, when he is right, he is SUPER right.”
Rethais sighed, but unlike his other sighs that morning, this one was different. A sign of decision.
“I am convinced. I will have to go in and speak to the High General though, in person. He will not like me taking a break, so a deal will have to be made.”
“Would you like me to come with you?” Lysar asked.
“No, no. I shall arrange it all. Should not be too difficult…” Rethais smiled. “After all, I deserve some time off as well…”