Family Meetings
By Lore
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Orange sands. The medical station was a lifetime away and around them now were the orange sands of Quatarr. Before them stood a small but proud house. Around them, an oasis of a front garden. Tall orange leafed trees burst from the sands with small pools of water sustaining them. Char was hesitant but eventually pressed the door chime.
“Out of the frying pan.” Char whispered under her breath. “I was really hoping we’d be doing your thing first…”
“You didn’t tell them?” Lore looked to Char in dismay. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”
“What was I supposed to say…” The door opened and their conversation closed.
“Oh. Where’s the llysneim then?” The woman at the door was taller than both Lore and Char by a significant margin. Compounding her height was her warrior’s frame, not overly muscular but enough to get any job done well. Char stared at her mother, eyes wide.
“llysneim?” Char looked to Lore who was stood in tensed silence trying not to twitch. “What’s a llysneim?” Char grabbed at Lore’s arm.
“Never mind.” The woman glanced at Lore but quickly devoted all of her attention to Char. “Are you going to stand there all day and let the heat in or are you coming in too?” She stepped aside affording enough room for Lore and Char to enter the house.
Although they had never been there, the house matched Lore’s mental image to a tee. The whole building was spartan in its decoration with the living room being the only room Lore would have described as decorated. The living room walls were lined with metallic triangles, arranged in uniform and aesthetically pleasing patterns. At first Lore thought nothing of it but upon closer inspection was stunned. Lore’s lower back was in agony trying to supress their urge to twitch as they felt the woman stabbing them with her gaze.
“Are those ID Tags?” Lore tried to sound confident but stumbled on their words.
“Ka’lana’s idea. She felt it was the least they deserved. I think it’s a little boastful and insanely disrespectful but you know your mother. Proud soldier to the end.” Char’s father was about Char’s height but his figure was hunched after years of living in Ka’lana’s shadow.
“They’re mother’s confirmed kills.” Char clarified. Lore took a closer look at the wall. Scanning a small percentage of the thousands, a few names jumped out at them. Char put her arm around Lore. She patted their shoulder in reassurance. Lore tried to smile.
“I met Shieek at the Three year month. Wasn’t he one of the Eastern clan leaders pressing for peace?” They bowed their head.
Char’s father nodded. “He was the reason I defected. He knew that war was inevitable.” He stopped as his wife entered the room.
“Admiring the fallen. Come now, sit.” Her voice froze the very atmosphere, subliming her husband’s softer tones. “You’re married then. Still didn’t invite us.” Lore’s already pallid complexion grew paler still. The colour drained seemed to only empower Char.
“Father was invited. Given your record, I didn’t see fit to extend that courtesy to you.” Char maintained her confidence by tightening her grip on Lore. Thankfully for Lore the hand she was crushing no-longer had pain receptors.
“Fine, but tell that you didn’t let it take our name?” Ka’lana sipped at her drink, refusing to make eye contact with Lore.
“Mother, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to re-introduce you to my partner, Lore Aramund’Zeyah.” She smiled at her mother’s discomfort. Lore looked slightly confused, this was the first time they had heard their full married name.
“Excuse me.” Ka’lana rapidly lifted herself from her chair, she looked as though she was preparing to attack. Once out of earshot, Char’s father raised his glass. He double checked his surroundings before beginning.
“Well, I Ke’van,” He spoke in an almost inaudible whisper. “Do welcome you to our family. If you need help with the rites, I’ll do what I can.” Their glasses tapped lightly. “Llonst!” Lore raised theirs to their lips.
“No.” Char placed her hand between the glass and Lore. She removed it from Lore’s possession and placed it back on the table. “I’m sorry.” She tipped Lore’s drink into a nearby planter. The plant itself was fine at first. The red liquid seeped into its soil and penetrated its roots. Slowly, it climbed until the whole vine had been engulfed in its lustre. Char poked the plant with the base of Lore’s glass. Dust.
“Thanks.” Lore took the glass back and held it up in a salute. “Where has your, sorry our, mother gone?”
“She does this every time you or the kid comes round. Once you’ve entered the house, it’s like a timer starts. The more of Lore or the kid she sees, the shorter the timer but when it ends… Let’s just leave it to the imagination.”
“Who’s this kid then?” Lore tried to ignore their sudden inclination to find an excuse to spend time with Ka’lana.
“You told us to refer to our grandchild as ‘the kid’ or other non-specific terms to reduce the chance of paradoxes or other temporal anomalies.”
“How many times have we been here since we brought Quatarr back? It’s only been…” Char looked to her locked Breacher. “Ten years.”
“After I told you about your mother’s reaction to your choice in family, you made it your goal to fill those ten years with as many family visits as your child could stomach. Works out to about one a month if she’s here and one a week if I’m on my own. We get along. Otherwise they’re with their guardian.”
“Guardian?” Lore went to drink from their glass, frowning at its emptiness.
“On Quatarr there are three key groups involved in the development of the child: The parents; The grandparents and The guardians. Guardians are un-related figures who teach the child and help care for them.”
“Like godparents?” Lore chimed in.
“Don’t let her hear you say that but yes. Like them.” Ke’van looked to Char then to Lore. His eyebrow’s waved.
“What father?”
“Did you share your full name with them or just the family one?”
“They know me as you do.” Char grabbed Lore’s left hand and kissed it. “We’re family regardless of what mother thinks. Don’t take it personally.”
Lore smiled. “Mum’s a bit of an arse. Ha! Never had a mum before!” Lore’s smile dropped as Ka’lana returned. Familial Rites.
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Comments
I guess war is always
I guess war is always described as inevitable. That way it's like a kid's told-you-so.
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