A Path To Omniscience

Asher knocked lightly on the door to his parents' room. Barely a second later, a voice from the other side called, "Come in."

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, greeted by the almost overwhelming sight of his parents' bedroom. Where Asher's own room could be described as large yet simple, theirs was large and intricate. The walls were painted in an array of darker tones, blending together in such a way that each surface seemed like its own work of art.

And in truth, that's exactly what it was. His mother had transformed the entire room—walls and ceiling alike—into a sprawling, interconnected painting. The design was subtle, its full beauty only apparent from certain angles. Paintings from across Remnant were carefully hung, spaced just right so the room never felt cluttered despite being packed with details.

In one corner, a marble statue stood, its features obscured by vines of a creeping plant that trailed along the room's edges and lined the ceiling. No matter where Asher looked, every inch of the space had been transformed into a canvas for creativity, an exhibition of boundless expression.

And yet, despite the chaos of details, everything felt perfectly in place. Whether it was the deliberate arrangement, the cohesive color palette, or the faint hum of classical music in the background, the room came together as a harmonious masterpiece. His mother had turned potential chaos into something mesmerizing.

Unfortunately, Asher and his father had grown numb to its beauty over the years, even though his mother's passion for creating such spaces never wavered.

"Oh, Asher, dear, you're here. Good." Nillia's voice was warm as she looked up at him from the curved, elongated couch positioned before the fireplace. Flames flickered within the hearth, its mantle adorned with various ornaments, and a flatscreen TV hung just above it. With a casual motion, she reached for the remote and paused the show she'd been watching.

She looked completely at ease, reclining comfortably on the wide couch in her nightgown. The soft glow of the firelight gave the room an even cozier warmth.

"So, tell me, what do you think? Doesn't it add character to the room, just like I said?" Nillia gestured toward the statue in the corner, her earrings jingling softly as she turned her head.

Asher stared at the statue for a moment, letting out a small sigh before responding, "I don't know how you do it, Mother, but it does look nice. Honestly, I didn't think you could fit another thing in this room."

A proud smile spread across Nillia's face as she clapped her hands together, then stretched her arms toward him. Asher didn't need to ask what she wanted. Smiling faintly, he walked over to the couch and climbed onto it. The moment he was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into her embrace. Her softness provided a perfect pillow.

Nillia gazed down at him, her smile tender as one hand gently stroked his hair. Asher, however, caught a faint scent and couldn't help but comment.

"Is that a new perfume?"

The question made her smile widen.

"That's right, it's Lily of the Valley. I thought it was subtle enough not to wake your father in the middle of the night—his nose is so sensitive—but it still has a lovely scent."

Asher nodded in agreement.

"It suits you."

"You always know just what to say, don't you?" Nillia teased, leaning back against the couch while continuing to brush her fingers through his hair.

"So, I called you here to talk about the sleepover. Weiss and Whitley will be arriving in just a few hours. Are you excited?"

Asher tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Do you want me to be?"

Nillia frowned slightly and pulled him closer, giving him a firm squeeze.

"Don't be like that, Asher. I want you to enjoy this. It's your first sleepover. I've prepared your room and plenty of activities for you three—movies, snacks, staying up late... all the usual things kids your age love." He turned his head to meet her warm gaze.

"You and Father already let me stay up as late as I want, you know."

"Of course, I know that. And I also know my son is smart enough to figure out that wasn't the point of what I was saying," Nillia replied with a playful grin. Asher chuckled softly.

"Alright, fine. I suppose I'm looking forward to it a little. Though, not for any of the reasons you mentioned." That piqued her curiosity. She tilted her head, her brows knitting slightly. But as their eyes met, realization dawned. Nillia's eyes widened, and a grin broke across her face.

"Oh my god! You're going to confess to her?" she exclaimed, releasing him to clap her hands excitedly before spinning him around to face her.

"Not exactly," Asher admitted, his voice as steady as ever.

"But... I am thinking about doing something." Her excitement only grew. Despite being one of the founders of Frostvale Enterprises, his mother suddenly seemed more like a gossiping schoolgirl than a businesswoman. Moments like this were rare, and Asher couldn't help but not stifle her enthusiasm.

"This is wonderful, Asher!" She enveloped him in another hug before pulling back, her eyes sparkling.

"So, when did you decide to do this? What was the moment? I need to know so I can tell the story when you're older." Asher hesitated, thinking back.

"I suppose it was during the charity event. It was... a clarifying moment. I got to see how she really felt about me." Nillia nodded, her expression softening.

"Oh, of course! Your father and I both noticed the way she was looking at you during your dance—and even afterward. It was so adorable." Nillia's grin widened as she spoke, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

Asher didn't respond, choosing instead to let her excitement run its course. Better to let her get it all out now rather than later. When she finally calmed down, he shifted the topic to a question.

"So, when exactly are they going to arrive? You never mentioned any specific times." Nillia blinked, her expression shifting as she realized her oversight. Then, with a soft laugh, she smiled at him.

"Oh, that's my fault. I got too excited, and it slipped my mind. Don't worry—they'll be here in about an hour or two. Plenty of time for you to stay here and watch this show with me... if you're not too busy." Her words carried a playful hint as she glanced toward the paused screen. Asher thought about it for a moment before nodding.

"Sure."

His response seemed to catch her off guard. She raised her brows, her expression openly surprised.

"Really?"

"Why not?" Asher shrugged.

"I just thought you might be too busy with whatever you've been working on in your workshop," Nillia admitted, tilting her head slightly. That earned a small laugh from him.

"No... I'm done working for now. Most of the processes are already automated, and I've got orders waiting for approval. Plus, Liv—my attorney—is handling something for me, so there's not much left to do. The only thing on my plate right now is a decision I need to make between two options, though I'm having a bit of trouble thinking them over." Nillia's expression softened as she chuckled.

"You and your father are more alike than I realized. He used to work himself into the same kind of corner—where everything boiled down to a single decision. Sometimes, he'd agonize over it for days, even weeks. And even when I tried to help, he'd second-guess both of us until we were stuck at a standstill." Her tone carried a mix of fondness and amusement as if the memory was both exasperating and endearing.

Asher tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"So how did he make a decision in the end?" Nillia smiled knowingly.

"He put the choice in the customers' hands. Your father set up a seemingly trivial poll—something innocuous—but it let the customers decide the company's direction without realizing the weight of their input." Asher furrowed his brow slightly, processing her words.

"It was that simple? That didn't lead to anything bad? No backfires?" She shook her head, her smile unwavering.

"Well, Frostvale Enterprises is still thriving, isn't it?" Her words left Asher deep in thought.

What does the customer want, huh? Yeah, I suppose it really is that simple.

"Now, stop thinking so hard and watch something with your mother," Nillia said, giving Asher little chance to react before wrapping him in her arms again. She leaned to her side, pulling him into a snug embrace, and hit play on the show she'd been watching.

And so, they did.

For the next hour and a half, they lay there, enjoying the simple comfort of each other's company. Occasionally, they exchanged a few words, but mostly, they just basked in the shared moment. Nillia barely noticed the time slipping by—mostly because she'd fallen asleep.

She only stirred awake when she felt a gentle shake. Her eyes fluttered open to find Asher standing in front of the couch, looking at her. Sitting up slowly, she let out a soft yawn and noticed the show had already ended.

"Oh, did I fall asleep?" She asked, her voice drowsy.

Asher nodded.

"Yeah, I guess you were just really comfortable."

"Well, how could I not be, sleeping next to you? I can't remember the last time you let me hold you like that."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Asher replied with a small smile.

"But Lavi told me Whitley and Weiss are here. I'm guessing you don't want to miss greeting the first guests at my sleepover?" He offered her a hand as he spoke. That bit of news seemed to wake Nillia up fully.

"Of course not," she said, taking his hand and rising from the couch. But just as she stood, she gave him a quick once-over and frowned.

"There's no way you're meeting them dressed like that."

"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?" Asher asked, glancing down at himself. He was still wearing his workshop clothes—plain clothes he didn't mind getting dirty and that matched the colors of his workspace. For Nillia, however, that was the problem.

"I picked out ten perfectly good pairs of pajamas and put them in your closet. You are not having your first sleepover in... that." Asher smirked faintly.

"Oh? But what about our guests? Shouldn't I be greeting them, considering it's my sleepover?" There was a playful note of teasing in his voice.

"And you will—once they get to your room," Nillia countered firmly.

"I'll guide them there while you get changed." Her tone left no room for debate. They headed toward the door together, stepping out into the hall before splitting up—Nillia heading toward the manor's entrance while gesturing for Asher to go to his room.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Asher complied. As he walked, his mind seemed elsewhere, his gaze distant. Only when he reached his bedroom door and stepped inside did his thoughts snap back to the present.

She did all this while I was in my workshop? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

Just as she promised, Asher's mother had gone all out in setting up his room. At the foot of his bed stood three polished serving carts, each neatly arranged and brimming with snacks.

The first cart was dedicated to salty treats—chips, pretzels, and other simple snacks that felt completely out of place in the life of Asher or the Schnee siblings, who were more accustomed to elaborate cuisine.

The second cart was packed with candy. There were so many varieties that Asher couldn't even begin to identify them all, especially since most had been removed from their packaging.

The third and final cart housed an array of pastries. From donuts to fruit-filled croissants, it looked like a miniature bakery display, all of it waiting to be devoured.

His room, typically minimalistic, now felt like it had been completely transformed. Across from his bed, above the fireplace, was something that hadn't been there before—a TV, mounted and already running a curated list of movies tailored to kids his age.

By the couch, he spotted what looked like a brand-new game system, surrounded by unopened games and four controllers. It wasn't even plugged in yet, but it was clear someone had thought ahead to ensure it would be ready for use.

There were more additions, too: bean bags replacing some of his usual chairs, a miniature trampoline tucked into one corner—just close enough that someone could jump from the bed to the trampoline and back again.

"She really didn't hold back on this," Asher muttered as he walked past the extravagant setup and headed toward his walk-in closet. He opened the door, and the automatic light flicked on, revealing the pajamas his mother had laid out for him.

He didn't particularly care how he looked during a sleepover, but his mother's choices gave him pause. Most of the pajamas were onesies—bright, colorful, and utterly ridiculous. After a moment of deliberation, he settled on a simple white button-up pajama set with black trimmings.

Wasting no time, he began changing, quickly swapping out his workshop clothes. Just as he finished putting on the pajama pants, he heard the door to his room open, followed by the sound of voices. The words were muffled at first, but after a moment, Weiss's voice cut through clearly.

"Asher, are you in here?" Walking to the entrance of his closet, Asher leaned out, his torso and head visible as he looked toward the two newcomers. Weiss was standing near his bed, her gaze curious as she took in the room, while Whitley lingered by his desk, equally intrigued.

Both of them turned to him the moment he spoke.

"Sorry, I'm still in the middle of getting dressed. Mother was a bit quick in leading you here." Whitley responded first, waving off the apology.

"Oh, it's fine. Your mother was going to give us a tour of the manor, but she got called away for something, so one of the maids guided us inst-" Whitley didn't get to finish.

Weiss, catching sight of Asher in his half-dressed state, quickly turned away and practically yelled, "Asher, would you mind talking to us when you're properly dressed?"

Hearing Weiss's outburst, Asher glanced down at his bare chest and apologized, though he didn't seem like he was in much of a hurry. 

"Oh, sorry, Weiss." He disappeared back into the closet, leaving the siblings alone. Whitley turned toward his sister, a sly smile curling across his lips as he slowly shook his head, clicking his tongue.

"You know, Weiss, I don't think you're going to make much progress if just seeing him without a shirt on turns your ears that red and your face that flushed," he teased, his voice dripping with mockery. Weiss's head snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing into sharp daggers as she struggled to find the right words.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she shot back, her tone defensive.

"I just... didn't want to see something I wasn't supposed to. It's the polite thing to do." Whitley chuckled, clearly unconvinced.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure that's why you spent a good ten seconds staring before you said anything."

Weiss opened her mouth to retort, her hand lifting as if to punctuate her words. But after a brief pause, when nothing coherent came out, she huffed, crossed her arms, and turned away, deciding to ignore him entirely.

Whitley smirked, his amusement evident as he muttered under his breath, "Oh, this is going to be interesting."