[ Reynir sees the memory; he isn't aware of Onni witnessing it, too. He doesn't see the grown version of him in the memory itself, and he thinks perhaps he had done something wrong, not focused hard enough...

But all those concerns are swept aside as he watches the scene that takes place. Onni's grandmother is still a little scary to him--he's not sure if that is because he knows what she would later become or if she was just kind of a scary lady. Maybe it is a mix of the two.

She certainly seems to be, to Reynir's eyes, a very stern teacher. He watches as little Onni conjures a flame, and Reynir can't help but feel a small burst of pride. So powerful, even at that age.

He watches the family from a small distance, little Tuuri and her love for Onni and his love for her, Onni's mother, the warmth and belonging wrapped up in that memory. And then he is back at the inn, with Onni sitting beside him, looking... blank. Shocked. ]

No, it was- it was another one. You saw... little you creating a flame with magic, right? Your grandma was there and then she talked with your mom, and Tuuri was pulling on your hair?