Carver watched his sister, spending some quality time with their father again. He was disappointed, more than a little, because the oldest child had interrupted their play-fight with her display of a fireball.
Their father had been both frightened and ecstatic, dropping his toy sword in the dirt and wiping his hands on his robes to get rid of the dirt before picking up the girl in a big hug. Malcolm wanted to show her a new spell now that she'd mastered that one, and they'd walked into the house to practice- out of sight of any templars that may pass by.
So Carver was left alone in the yard, again.
Well, not so alone. Bethany was picking flowers nearby, again. But she was still ignoring him because of that morning. He was starting to feel bad about nailing her braid to the bed, almost.
Carver wiped his face, it must be starting to rain or something, his face was all wet.
But Bethany didn't notice anything but her flowers, she didn't even realize it was about to start pouring and her precious flowers and dress would be ruined.
Malcolm returned after a while, and Carver had begun to spar with the scarecrow in the field. It wasn't putting up much of a fight for the six year old. Malcolm laughed as Marian ran outside again with that bright grin she always had.
"Already? My, you're almost as-" but his words caught short when Bethany screamed and Carver saw that her flowers were growing visibly, and faster, and bigger. Malcolm pulled her away from the creeping vines and monstrous flowers and pulled at Marian's wrist, "What are you doing?" he would have yelled, but for fear of Templars getting suspicious, if they were about and they always seemed to be.
But Marian was just as frightened and confused as they all were and held her hands up in defense, "I'm not doing anything, Papa!" she cried. Malcolm looked to Bethany in his arms, and then back at the flowers, which had stopped growing.
And Carver knew it would be time to move again, sooner than anyone had thought.