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Knock Knock!
An energetic knock thumped against the hardwood door of the Vilulf household. From the other side, a sweet voice called out a muffled “Hello?”
“Wah!” Eta jumped, startled. Although that brief surprise was immediately overwhelmed by a look of pure, unadulterated joy.
He dropped the dolls he’d been playing with just moments ago, practically sprinting towards the kitchen as fast as his short legs would allow him.
He skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding slamming against the doorway. “Mother!” he called out as he raced towards her, tiny hands gripping at her skirt.
“Yes, Eta?” Mother replied, barely even looking away from the silverware she seemed determined to polish till they sparkled like the stars that would twinkle above them at night.
“Nathaniel is here!” Eta paused for a moment, “…I think, I didn’t really check.” he said thoughtfully.
Still, he stubbornly tugged at her dress; “dragging” her to answer the door (which she had fitted with several locks and bolts after Eta’s recent… unauthorized adventures).
Regardless, said locks were only ever enough to stop one squirmy little kitten. And so, Mother unlocked them with ease; letting inside a little boy dressed in adorably fuzzy winter attire and his signature red cloak trailing behind him.
“Hello Nathaniel, how are you?” she greeted as she knelt down to help him pull off his thick boots.
Nathaniel looked up at her, face brimming with unrestrained joy. It was hard for her to believe this was the same quiet little boy she met on that fateful day at the riverbank.
Suddenly, Eta bounded in, tackling Nathaniel in a tight squeeze. Nathaniel’s knees buckled, sending both of them toppling onto the wooden floor.
“Hello, Natha — hello!” Eta babbled in greeting from his place on Nathaniel’s chest. “Hi Eta…” Nathaniel murmured weakly as he recovered from the stars swirling in his vision.
“Woah!” Eta shouted as he was grabbed by the scruff of his shirt. Mother tutted disapprovingly, “Eta, that’s not nice…” she said, gently dropping him onto the ground with a soft ‘plop!’
Eta giggled bashfully, “Hehe sorry, mother…” he mumbled. Mother sent him a pointed look, causing his eyes to widen in realization.
Eta turned towards Nathaniel, helping him up from his position dazed on the floor. “Oops! Sorry to you too!” he apologized lightheartedly. Nathaniel could sense he was at most half-apologetic.
But oh well, what were little brothers if not insincere annoying little hellspawn? …Little brother? Was that how he saw Eta? Well he certainly fit the bill, if his schoolmates’ complaints were anything to go by.
Bratty? Nathaniel thought back to all those times Eta threw a hissy fit over Nathaniel refusing to play… Sounds about right!
Mean? Considering the amount of times Eta pulled a devious prank involving him and the paint set HE himself gifted Eta… Yessir, the shoe does indeed fit.
Troublesome? Definitely. But of course, Nathaniel accepted all of these traits as easily as Eta had accepted him the first time they met — back when he nearly froze to death in a stupid decision to run away.
He didn’t regret it though, even if to this day he could still vaguely feel his fingers growing rigid and cold, his tears frozen solid onto his cheeks as he did his best to muffle his sobs. Because he met them.
Ms. Lagertha, or “Mother”, as she insisted to be called; who cared for him like her own. Eta, who reminded him how to be the child his parents insisted he wasn’t; who showed him he was more than simply “the heir”.
“Nathaniel, are you there?” Ms. Lagertha, er, Mother’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Mm, yes. I was just thinking.” he responded plainly.
Mother looked concerned for a moment before ultimately letting it go. “Alright, if you say so.” she trailed off before adding, “Now, if it’s alright with you; how about the two of you help me prepare for dinner? I need two strong men to help me catch some fish to fry later.”
“Yes, please!” the two boys eagerly exclaimed in unison, nearly tripping over as they hurriedly stepped into their boots. Mother watched on with fondness, shrugging on her winter coat with a sense of contentment.
It took quite a while to ensure everybody was bundled up and properly dressed to face the frigid cold of the plateau of Leng.
Although the weather was significantly more forgiving than it was just a few months ago, all that meant was that she no longer had to worry about either child being blown away by harsh tempests.
“Your cloak looks stupid.” Nathaniel commented offhandedly, pointing at the large bat-like ears stitched onto Eta’s hood.
Eta reacted explosively, blunt nails attempting to scratch at Nathaniel’s unbothered face. If he hadn’t been held back by Mother grasping at his hood, he would’ve got him for sure! Or so he told himself.
“It’s not stupid!” he hissed in Mother’s arms. “Mother said it makes me look very intimidating!” he huffed proudly, suddenly looking up at her with an expectant look. “Right, Mother?” he asked hopefully.
Mother nodded placatingly, “Yes, yes — you’re right. I’m sure it’s scared off plenty of monsters already.” she said amicably, petting his head fondly.
Eta turned towards Nathaniel, smug grin already plastered onto his face. He looked really punch-able, Nathaniel thought with slight irritation.
“Well that’s enough dilly-dallying. Let’s go boys, the fish are waiting.” Mother said, taking both of their hands as they walked along the snow-covered path.
They walked in a comfortable silence, only broken when Eta had to point out a little critter scurrying up a tree or when Nathaniel stopped to pick up a funny-looking mushroom.
“Do you think we can eat this?” Nathaniel asked, holding up a bright red mushroom speckled with white spots. “Hm, I don’t think so.” Mother replied thoughtfully, “It looks poisonous, don’t put it anywhere near your mouth, okay?” Nathaniel nodded.
Soon enough they arrived at their destination, a lake so large it seemed to stretch along the horizon endlessly. It was completely frozen over, ice more than thick enough to carry at least a hundred more Nathaniels.
Just as they were about to go on the ice, a firm grip held the two boys back. “Please stay here for a moment, we have to make some holes in the ice first.” Mother said, adding, “Don’t move until I call for you two, okay? And no running on the ice.” she reminded.
The two nodded earnestly, faces scrunched into serious expressions. Mother smiled, patting their heads before leaving the two alone to play amongst themselves while they wait.
Just like clockwork —no more than a minute in — Eta whined, “I’m bored!” Nathaniel sighed, taking a seat on the soft snow. “Then let’s play, Eye Spy?” Nathaniel offered, to which Eta tilted his head curiously.
“What’s that?” Eta asked, plopping down onto the snow next to him. “It’s a game where you have to guess what I’m looking at based on the hints I give and our surroundings.”
At Eta’s confused look, Nathaniel added, “For example, I’ll say “Eye spy with my little eye something green,” or something.” he pointed at Eta, “And you’ll respond with something like leaves — or other green things.”
Eta’s eyes lit up in recognition, “Oh! I know now! Mother and I play that all the time!” he exclaimed in realization, though he paused, “We don’t call it Eye Spy though, that sounds silly!” he said, giggling.
—
After a few rounds of Eye Spy, which by some miracle neither of them were winning (Nathaniel blames the way Eta keeps changing his object the moment Nathaniel gets it, though Eta would argue Nathaniel did the same thing.) Mother finally called them over.
Peeking through the hole in the ice, the boys could see the subtle shadows of several schools of fish swimming beneath the abyssal darkness of the deep waters.
“Here, your fishing rods. Try not to lose them okay?” Mother said, patting the stools sat beside her, beckoning the boys to take a seat. “Okay!” the two replied, taking their respective seats around the hole.
Lines were cast, and soon, after what felt like hours of waiting — they got their first bite. “I got it!” Eta yelled, pulling against the force struggling against his rod with all his might.
Until a medium-sized, grey-scaled fish came hurling out of the water, splashing Eta with the freezing water from its flapping tail.
Eta picked it up, holding it up to his face and laughing at how its wriggling body tickled his cheek. “Look, I caught one!” he exclaimed proudly, chest puffed.
He presented his catch to his audience of a grand total of two people, holding it up like a bag of treasure.
Mother clapped, “Good job, Eta!” she congratulated, taking the feebly struggling thing from his grasp and placing it in a covered bucket.
Nathaniel hummed in agreement, “Mhm, it’s good you got the runt out of the way.” he said, patting his back condescendingly — much to Eta’s irritation.
“Why you —“ before he could continue on what was about to be an hour-long tirade on why Nathaniel was a big no-good meanie, Nathaniel’s line shook with a bite on the hook.
The boy cautiously reeled it in, careful to avoid the water splashing onto his expensive garments. The last thing he wanted was for his parents or a nosy servant to wonder why he came home smelling of fish.
The fish, which he currently held with his fingertips, was similarly sized to the one Eta pulled out of the water just minutes before.
However, this one was different. In that it had a gorgeous iridescent shine — the type that scattered rainbow patterns across an otherwise unremarkably pale white body.
Still, it was gross and slimy. So, Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to immediately dump it into the bucket once the wonder wore off. He wiped his hand off on the underside of his stool, frowning in dismay when the smell lingered.
The rest of their little fishing trip went by peacefully, aside from one incident where all three of them were nearly pulled into the water by a particularly stubborn and powerful fish.
It got away, unfortunately… That was fine, Nathaniel was sure it would have tasted like garbage anyway.
So here they were, walking home lugging behind them nearly three buckets full of nothing but fish. Well, Mother was doing most of the heavy lifting but they were still helping!
Suddenly, Mother stopped, as if remembering something important. “Oh, right!” she exclaimed, “We ran out of firewood just this afternoon…” she trailed off pensively.
She took the third bucket — the lightest of the bunch — which she had left in the children’s small yet capable hands. “Eta, Nathaniel, I have something to ask of you two.” she started.
Eta piped up, “Yes, Mother?” he asked. “Could you please collect some firewood on our way?” she gestured towards the piles of fallen branches that surrounded the path they walked on.
“Of course, Mother!” Eta replied, already moving towards the largest pile of dead sticks. Nathaniel did the same, picking up some of the branches on his side of the path.
With that, they carried on their short journey. Their small collection of branches snowballing into a seemingly colossal pile of wood, so tall that the children struggled to see past it.
Soon enough, they finally arrived back home. Tired arms unceremoniously drop bundles of wood into two separate piles, sending branches and sticks loudly clattering against the old wood of the patio floor.
At some point, Mother went back inside; most likely preparing the fish for cooking — also known as the boring parts. Eta had a much more entertaining activity, and it seemed Nathaniel did too.
1… 2… 3… 4…
One by one they counted the wood pieces they collected, setting aside the counted pieces into yet another pile.
…23 …24 …25
“I got 25!” Eta cheered aloud. Nathaniel laughed in response, “25? I got 30!” he claimed smugly. Eta stared at him, confused.
“Hm? How could you have gotten more than me when I literally took almost all of the wood we spotted on the way?” Eta asked, puzzled.
Nathaniel grinned, “Well, you see, if you divide this really long stick I have here —“ …and Eta already stopped listening.
—
Soon enough, after a short back-and-forth on whether or not theoretically broken pieces of sticks count in their little competition, Mother called them inside for dinner.
It was a simple spread, as usual. Nothing fancy, just a few pieces of toasted bread and a hearty bowl of stew. Tender pieces of fish stuck out from underneath the pale broth, crushed under the force of Nathaniel’s playful spoon.
He noted with pride how the bits of the (actually edible) mushrooms he collected were sprinkled throughout the stew. The scent of mixed herbs filled his nostrils, causing his mouth to water.
Starving after a day out and about, the family wasted no time in digging in. It was quiet yet warm; an atmosphere Nathaniel struggled to adapt to at first. But now, he reveled in it, wishing that one day — this life would be permanent.
Perhaps in the future, when he’s older. Only time would be able to tell. He just hoped that whatever story the Fates have spun with his life, it was a happy one.