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Mythra stretched out her legs and kicked them up onto the opposite armrest of her favorite chair. It was soft and just the right amount of worn out. Her chair had lived a little. Pyra always scolded her for lounging like that, but her sister was out of the house for the day. That gave Mythra free rein to be exactly as lazy as she wanted. About seventy percent lazy was the choice she settled on as she picked up the book she had been reading and removed the bookmark. Reading counted as an activity so she figured it had to count for at least thirty percent.
Her hair got caught beneath her and she winced as her movement pulled on it uncomfortably. She sat up to get it free and then mentally altered her hair so that it was substantially shorter. Now barely reaching below her ears it was well enough out of the way and she was able to sprawl out properly. “That’s better.”
What so many people failed to understand was that being lazy wasn’t just about not doing “stuff.” It was about mindset, location, comfort, and style. For example, if she were to wear her Blade clothes it would be as if she were admitting to being prepared to do “things.” That was why she had put on white and green shorts and a comfy blue sweater that was just the right level of fluffy. Even her book had been chosen to compliment her lazy day. No action scenes here. Relaxed historical fiction. Lots of calming and simple passages about the lives of the characters.
Just as she was reaching optimal levels of drowsiness there was a knock at the door. She lowered her book so it rested on her chest and narrowed her eyes at the door. A visitor? Now? Would they go away if she didn’t answer?
Knock.
Knock knock.
Knock again.
With a grumble she placed her bookmark and set her reading material on the end table next to her chair. Mythra rolled out of the chair and slowly made her way to the door. When she opened it she was greeted with the sight of a pair of teenage boys, one with Gormotti ears and the other with the red eyes common amongst Tanatelse. She couldn’t tell if the lack of the cross-like mark was a sign that the custom was fading from popularity or if he just hadn’t been born in what had once been Tantal.
She never had been able to get Zeke to explain whether it was a tattoo or not. Pandoria claimed Zeke had the mark, but she’d just laugh if you asked where it was.
The red eyed boy blinked in surprise at the sight of her and the Gormotti teen’s ears flicked rapidly. “Ummm, hi.”
Mythra planted a hand on her hip and bluntly said, “I’m not buying anything and I’m definitely not converting.”
“No, no,” said red eyes as he waved his hands frantically. “That’s not it! We’re here to study with Clara. She invited us.”
“Is that so? She didn’t mention it to me. Fine, come on in. Her room is up the stairs, left, and then at the far back. There’s a plaque on her door with her name on it that you can’t miss.”
She stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. They walked in slowly and looked around. They were clearly nervous. “You go to school with her?,” Mythra asked.
Clara attended a school a fair distance from home, but mostly because it was the closest available. Leftheria’s archipelago chain had only partially merged with the other great Titans and as a result much of what had once been the series of islands still remained decidedly rural. There were attendees from a large stretch of locales. Mythra certainly didn’t mind being far from the more active areas.
“We do,” replied the Gormotti boy. “We’ve got a big upcoming exam and Clara suggested we all study together.”
“Gotcha. As long as you don’t make a lot of noise we’re all good. Today is my lazy day.”
Mythra waved them along then hopped over the back of the chair and landed on the seat. There she promptly started getting comfortable again. She was going to make good progress on her book today.
The sound of feet going up the stairs faded into the background as Mythra immersed herself in her reading.
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Clara opened up her door and let Filippos and Iwan in. They looked around with curiosity and Clara pretended not to be nervous about it. Because they lived so far away from everything it was rare for her to have friends over. She had made certain to clean up her room before her classmates arrived. It was a simple enough room with her bed, desk, and reading chair being the only notable items. There were some paintings on the wall and a small figurine of Siren that Uncle Tora had made for her, but there was nothing that might be embarrassing. She hoped.
“Glad you guys made it. Was the journey a pain?”
“Nah,” Iwan replied. His ears angled towards her even as he turned in a circle to examine the room. “Ferry ride was a bit boring, but it’s a pretty region. Anything that gets me out of the house right now is worth it.”
“Is something wrong at home?,” she asked.
Filippos grinned smarmily and nudged Iwan in the side with his elbow. “His parents have their anniversary this week and they’re being super flirty all the time. Iwan here can’t handle it.”
“It’s like, you know, there’s a difference between knowing your parents do stuff and seeing them all lovey dovey. I’d rather take a scenic tour of Morytha than spend too much time around them right now.” Iwan settled down on the floor and set his pack at his side. It made a heavy thunk, presumably because of the textbooks inside.
Clara plopped down cross-legged on her bed and nodded understandingly. “I get it. My parents get like that too. Total pain.”
Once he had sat down in a spot that completed a triangle Filippos dug into his own bag for his books and notes. As he did so he said, “Speaking of family, how come you never mentioned your older sister was such a hottie? You holding out on us?”
Her brow scrunched up as she tried to process what he was saying. “Waddya mean? I’m the oldest. Not by much, but it still counts.”
Filippos opened his notebook in his lap and settled a pen in the seam. “Seriously? I could have sworn she was at least three or four years older than us, but she’s closer to our age?”
“Duh. My siblings are in the same year as us. They just do more practical studies. I could have sworn I’d introduced you to them before.” They’d all met each other at one of the interclass events, hadn’t they? Or was she mixing up who had met who?
Iwan stretched his feet out in front of him and shifted around as if trying to get comfortable. “Today is definitely the first day I’ve ever seen this one.”
“Today? Everyone besides me and Mum are out of the house today. Mum insisted on this being her lazy day.” Clara reached to the head of her bed and grabbed two pillows. She tossed one each to her classmates so they could use them as more comfortable seating.
Once he was properly seated on a pillow Filippos pointed towards the floor. “Hang on Clara, the blonde hottie who let us in couldn’t have been older than her late teens. Maybe early twenties at most.”
Oh. Oh! Oh…
“Eeew. Don’t call Mum that. It’s too weird.”
“That girl was your Ma?,” Iwan asked.
“Yeah-huh,” she replied.
Silence.
Silence.
And then…
“Is she single?,” Filippos asked without a hint of shame.
This time the pillow she grabbed was thrown with full force into his face. “Course not! She’s got Dad. Dumbass.”
Filippos chucked the pillow back at her so she caught it and set it down in her lap. She leaned her elbows onto it and pouted. “Listen,” Filippos said, “it’s not our fault we assumed. Your Mom doesn’t look that much older than us.”
Iwan nodded along even as he flipped through the textbook to find the section they needed. “He’s right about that. I definitely assumed she was your sister. I’ve seen young looking parents before, but there’s no way she’s old enough to be your Ma. Nobody ages that well.”
“Sure, but Mum doesn’t age.”
They looked perplexed. “What do you mean by that?,” Iwan asked.
“Just how it sounds. Mum’s a Blade so she’ll always look like that. You guys didn’t know that my Mum is a Blade? I swear it’s come up before.” It had to have. Especially given that Mum was the Aegis. There were books and plays about her. Even a line of annoyingly successful arcade games that featured her. That last one was definitely Uncle Tora’s fault, though she couldn’t judge it too heavily. Her family’s cut of the profits for the use of their likenesses helped keep them financially comfortable after all.
“Now hang on,” Filippos interjected. “Blades can’t have kids. Everyone knows that. Or…I guess that means you’re adopted?”
“Does it matter? Besides, Mum’s not that kind of Blade.”
“Huh?,” they both said.
“You guys really don’t know? Mum’s the Aegis.”
“Does that make you half-Aegis?,” Iwan asked.
“Aegis is more of a title than a…species? Category? One of those.”
Clara had gotten used to people knowing who her parents were. It was almost refreshing for someone to be caught off guard. She could have done without them calling her Mum a ‘hottie,’ but you couldn’t have everything.
Even Clara hadn’t always understood what that meant. When she had been a child all she had known was that her Mum was her Mum. Stories of her family’s adventures to save the world had been distant things that were too abstract to truly understand. It must have taken until she was seven or eight to notice that there was something different about her Mum compared to her other friends’ Mums. Truthfully some part of her had just assumed that Mums aged slower than Dads until it had finally clicked in her head.
Pushing those thoughts aside Clara grabbed her study materials, straightened her back, and did her best impression of Aunt Mórag. “No more chatter. It is time we study.”
That seemed to get through to them and they all settled in to begin properly studying. She wasn’t as good as Aunt Mórag at bossing people around, but mimicking her usually helped.
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At fifty Clara had far less energy and excitement for festivals than she had in her youth, but Mum was always thrilled to get the chance to go to them. Mum spent most of the time looking through artwork on display and for sale at different stalls. Or just as likely sampling the various festival snacks that were available.
The Rebirth Festival honored those lost during the events preceding the fall of the upper segment of the World Tree. It was also a celebration for those born into the new world they had been given as a parting gift by the Architect. Clara wouldn’t have believed any of it to be true if there weren’t so many around who had been alive back in those days. It was almost too fantastical to believe.
And here they were wandering around a festival that had toys and costumes and masks that presented interpretations of her Mum and not a soul around them realized who she actually was. Clara had long since learned that people in their daily lives were unlikely to assume a near mythical figure walked amongst them. Especially not one who spoke as casually and brusquely as Mum often did.
Mum cursed under her breath as the goldfish she was trying to catch with a paper scoop plopped back into the water. One of the parents standing nearby and watching their child play the same game glared at Mum. The brunette was at least a decade younger than Clara and turned to her and said, “She’s your daughter, right? You should teach her to mind her manners around children. My boy shouldn’t be exposed to such language.”
Clara shrugged. “She’s not my daughter, she’s my Mum. And if you want her to know something you should just tell her.”
“Ridiculous,” the woman protested. “She’s at least twenty years younger than I am.”
“I’m a little over five and a half centuries old,” Mum retorted as she failed yet again at catching a goldfish. “You should learn to respect your elders, kiddo.”
With a harumph the woman dragged her child away even as the boy extended an arm back towards the tank of water. He appeared to have had no luck catching one.
A few minutes later they walked off from the stand with Mum happily holding a plastic bag with a goldfish in it. “Do you think the koi will eat this goldfish if I put it into their pond?,” Mum asked.
“You should probably ask Dad. Or maybe Aunt Pandy. They know way more about fish than I do.”
“You’re probably right,” Mum said as they passed a pair of teen girls dressed in a decent approximation of her Blade clothes. They didn’t seem to have realized they had come mere steps away from the genuine article.
As they wound their way through the busy crowd Clara noticed that Mum’s gaze kept drifting towards the distant World Tree. The lower section still stood after all these years. A testament to what had been accomplished. A reminder of that day. “Does the festival make you nostalgic?,” Clara asked.
“Somewhat.”
“Good or bad?”
“Mostly good. We came moments away from being gone forever. If it hadn’t worked…well the last several decades wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have gotten to experience things like this. Wouldn’t have gotten to see you come into the world for real and become the woman you are today. But I did get to do all of that. So the Rebirth Festival is a reminder of my blessings.”
Clara couldn’t help but smile. There were many times that Mum’s glee for the smallest parts of life made her seem young, but every so often she’d say something wise or introspective. “I’m glad. I guess I’d have to be. I literally wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t happened that way.”
“Does it ever bother you? When people mistake you for my mother, that is.”
Clara shook her head. “Not anymore. The first dozen times, sure. But it’s happened so often that I suppose I’m just used to it. Does it bug you when people think Dad is your grandfather?”
Mum grinned mischievously and balanced the bag with the goldfish on her head as they weaved through a denser crowd. It seemed effortless for her. The benefits of having supernatural balance. “No way. Whenever it happens I tease him and call him Gramps for the rest of the day. Azurda gets a big laugh out of it too.”
A mother and daughter brushed past them hand-in-hand and Clara momentarily recalled the first of these festivals she had ever been to. She remembered being too frightened of the crowd to really enjoy it, but Mum had stayed at her side the whole time. Dad bought them candied apples and then he hefted Clara onto his shoulders and walked around. Seated there, feeling so high up, Clara had left her fear behind. A crowd wasn’t scary from that angle.
That memory made her smile. Especially as they reached the spot their group had established as the meet-up spot. Her husband was chatting animatedly with her cousin and Dad sat on the edge of the fountain with her daughter curled up asleep in his lap.
From an outsider’s perspective her family probably looked confusing or peculiar, but to her it was exactly as simple as could be.
It was just family.
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Mythra sat in the front row, Nia at her side, as she watched her great-granddaughter get married to the one she loved. As they pledged themselves to each other she felt tears welling up. There were cheers from the gathered celebrants and a few excited whoops and shouts. As usual her family and their extended friend group were a lively bunch. Just as it had always been.
“You still get weepy even after all this time?,” Nia asked.
She dabbed at her tears with a cloth and said, “Always. It’s just who I am. Times like these remind me of the blessings I’ve received over the years. Sometimes I look back to that frightened girl I was and I hardly recognize her. She never would have understood that living on and on could be something joyful.”
“Even when we leave loved ones behind?”
“But we’ve got all these chances to cherish new loved ones and make more memories. It’s something he never understood.”
“He?,” Nia asked. “Who are you talking about?”
“Malos. It’s something he said at the end. Words can be a curse. And he was right. But he didn’t realize that the opposite is true.”
“Words can be a blessing.”