"Surge forth!" Rey yelled, sounding like someone who'd spent way too many hours binge watching magical dramas, all while not having any free time.
Honestly, if he threw in a "wingardium leviosa," no one would've been surprised. His wand flared up, glowing a determined shade of blue, as if it were auditioning for a role in some grand magical production.
But this glow wasn't content with just looking pretty; it had dreams. Big ones. The particles it summoned whirled around, gathering into a dense ball of water, and then it launched itself like a cannonball with a vendetta.
The water was launched at the fire that was burning passionately, but he did not notice the fact that the table was not being burnt, and the fire was also not growing or spreading.
The projectile hit the table, but he made the water too dense. The table was knocked away with the fire still clinging on it like a paint stain that won't go away how much you wash.
Then the fire, in an act of pure spite, decided to relocate to the curtains.
Judge's mental alarm bells went off— louder than when Amber accidentally summoned a thunderstorm indoors. He scrambled, trying to cast something smooth and controlled, something that screamed, "I got this." Hand raised, spell ready, he was about to fix it all with style.
But then the fire just... fizzled out, as if realizing it wasn't even supposed to be there. And it hit him: Right... dragon house. things aren't flammable. Duh.
Across the room, his mother Eleyn and Melina watched the entire disaster unfold with the enthusiasm of someone watching a street magician fail to pull a rabbit out of a hat. This was definitely not Judge's finest hour.
Normally, he was calm, collected— the one who could assess a situation before it spiraled into chaos. But now? He stood in the middle of a self-made mess, throwing spells at a fire that was never a threat.
Dragon Logic 101: dragons breathe fire, and their houses are fireproof. Basic. Even a non-dragon toddler would've known better. They made anything wood-related from a tree resistant to fire, or just enchanted things with fire resistance.
Lowering his wand with all the grace of a defeated wizard, Judge let the silence hang in the air like a bad joke. Melina's lips twitched, trying (and failing) to hold back laughter. His mother, meanwhile, gave him that universal mom look— the one that says, You tried your best, sweetie.
Amber, however, was not so restrained. "Judge… you didn't," she wheezed, practically doubled over in laughter. "Tell me you didn't just try to put out a fire. In this house. Our house!" She was laughing so hard, she was on the the floor, clutching her stomache.
Laughter, it turns out, is highly contagious. The moment Amber started, Melina gave in, followed swiftly by Eleyn. Judge could feel the knights outside the room probably wondering what on earth could be so funny.
"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh it up," Judge sighed, rolling his eyes like someone who never even cared to begin with. "Very ladylike."
"J-Judge," Melina gasped, wiping away tears and giving his shoulder a pat, barely able to contain herself. "You've got so much to learn."
She turned away, still snickering like someone who'd just watched their first looney tunes episode, Judge imagined her muttering between laughs.
Once the laughter finally died down, his mother and sister said their goodbyes, leaving Judge alone with Melina. The door clicked shut, and just like that, her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by the sternness of a battle-hardened tutor.
"Alright, young master Judge" she grunted, cracking her knuckles like they were about to throw down in a shady tavern. "Time for your lesson."
Judge groaned inwardly. "What a drag," he muttered under his breath, channeling the spirit of a certain spiky-haired anime character.
Melina didn't care. She was already knee-deep in her itch to start spell instruction, her tone sharp and impatient.
Later that day, the Recorders assembled. Everyone donned their masks, though it felt more like a formality. They all knew each other's faces by now. Judge, however, remained a mystery. As the Observer, he never revealed his true identity. Why spoil the mystique?
The air was thick with tension, the kind that made silence feel like a ticking bomb. No one dared speak without the Observer's signal, and Judge's mere presence ensured it stayed that way.
"Show me," he finally commanded, his voice low and filled with authority. "Show me the moments you've captured for our god."
A shiver ran through the group. Each Recorder had their own reason for joining this secretive order. Lucifer, for one, wasn't interested in petty promises of power— he'd seen enough fools destroyed by their own ambition.
Yet here he was, intrigued by the Observer and the mysterious god they claimed to serve. The idea of power was tempting, but serving a god? Now that was something worth sticking around for.
Asmodeus and Gabriel had both been personally recruited by Judge. He knew exactly how to play rivals against each other, offering them the same prize: power in exchange for loyalty. Lucifer's resistance to the bait only made him more compelling.
The Recorders began transferring their stories to Judge, who activated his Enhanced Cognition like Sherlock Holmes tapping into his mind palace. He breezed through the tales as if binge-watching a series at multiple times the speed.
First: a young boy's misadventure in the woods. What started as a simple trip to gather firewood ended with him lost, stumbling down a cliff, and nearly becoming a monster's snack. A mercenary group saved him just in time, turning a grim fairy tale into a near-miss.
Next: an elderly woman's tragic tale of losing her only son, left alone to wither away in solitude. It hit Judge harder than he expected, the woman's slow march toward giving up on life tugging at something deep within him.
And then, the banquet of dragons. Renald, the spoiled nobleman, had been acting suspiciously, but Judge couldn't quite pin down why. Was it all an act? Something about Renald reeked of conspiracy.
"Asmodeus," Judge ordered, "keep an eye on the first prince Renald. This is your top priority, I will only observe, not record."
Asmodeus nodded. "As you wish, Observer."