[Yuan at his back is worlds better than the alternatives. Kratos explicitly relaxes as he leans back, his arm loose around his knee to reach Lloyd, who seems intent on falling asleep still clutching his father's hand. Beside Lloyd, Colette has returned to her sprawl, her hand in Lloyd's other, and still touching Sheena's arm on the other side.

[The room falls quiet, save the soft scratch of Botta's quill on paper, and that's oddly soothing as well. It's ... domestic. It represents a peacefulness Kratos has struggled to find.

[Then Yuan broadcasts, and Kratos turns his attention to tracking the movement in Yuan's mana. It's an easy motion, not even an arte; child's play, almost. Kratos lifts his free hand, cupped toward him and behind his knee to minimise the chance of disrupting the children, and sends the gentlest thread of mana he can manage into his hand.

[Nothing happens. Kratos frowns and tries again, just a tiny bit -- he can feel his mana moving, but it doesn't move the way he wants; and certainly not into his hand. With a consciously relaxing exhale, he tries again, a bit more firmly; and this time the light shines as nearly a blast, illuminating the whole room for an instant before Kratos closes his palm to shut it off.]

What was that?!

[That's Lloyd, yelping and half sitting up, wide-eyed. Likewise, Colette is rolling over, blinking in surprise. Kratos grimaces.]

That -- wasn't meant to happen. I'm sorry.