You know what indicates that the learning process isn’t going well? Three things: shouting, screaming, and anything that smells like fire or smoke. Any one of them could be considered fine, but once you added in a second it became not fine, then once all three are happening you can safely assume that there’s a situation. That was now. The screaming, shouting, and burning things were all happening right now in the other room, and I decided for once to not get involved.
Mibata, being the cool and level headed brother, decided to leave the room and take charge somehow. His attempt was unsuccessful, as he returned with a dish rag impaled upon one of his horns and a single boiled egg in hand that he meticulously peeled with a scowl plastered on his face. It was an odd sight, seeing him mutter to himself while using his painted claws to try and delicately remove the shell, but rather than speak with him about it I just let him be. After all, if whatever they did somehow ended with him back here with a consolation prize, then maybe it’s best I keep quiet as usual.
Minutes passed, Mibata ate his boiled egg and fed the bits of shell to the greedy isopod, and things in the other room finally died down as the commanding voice of our mother joined the fray. Soon enough her forest green head peeked into the den, locking onto each of us and making a small “get over here” flick. Well, when mother calls…
To my surprise upon entering the main room, there wasn’t any fire, mess, or injuries to be seen, just a tired looking Humey next to a Tokols wearing a wide forced grin with a platter of makeshift french toast. Just from the looks in their eyes I could tell that just getting to this point must have been a battle in itself, given how the kitchen looked like a warzone and how our dad was busy sweeping all of the mess up with a broom. Actually, there was a lingering smell of burnt something in the air, but following my nose just led me to the little space we had set up for Tim’s food and water, in which I saw what must have been attempt number one in the food dish. Hopefully my little bug likes unidentified chunks of burnt food.
Fortunately, breakfast was actually delightful, the false french toast actually being more of a breakfast sandwich that had all the fillings of a full meal, but the flavor was all over the place. First it was savory, then it was sweet, then it was spicy; it was just confusing to eat. Everyone else seemed to like it quite a bit more than me, so my single helping went unnoticed as Humey went in for fifths at the time the other two boys were on their thirds. With everyone full and in that post-meal state of tranquility, I decided to take the time to convey to Mibata that I needed his help telling everyone about the things we saw earlier. Thankfully, as he always did, Mibata nodded and quietly assured me that he would talk with Bahruk to cover the details. Always good to have a mister reliable in your corner.
While I was giving him his due thanks by way of bowing my head and writing down promises to thank him, Juaki stood up and let out a groan as she stretched her back. I could tell already that she had something cooking, but as for what it was I could only imagine.
“I have to speak with my captain today. Boys, I expect you to replace the food that you wasted with your accidents. Kayrux, I want you to stay home. There are strange things going on, so my daughter must be especially safe today. Remain here in the house with your father and brother. Now, Humey and Tokols, you come with me.”
Oh, a talk with the big bad lizard captain, eh? That sounds… hey wait a minute, why do I have to be under house arrest? I made my face into my usual pouty look whenever Mom said something I didn’t like, only for her to scowl right back at me. Okay, no outside for me, message received loud and clear. When I rolled my eyes and let out a soft sigh I swear I heard a laugh from Juaki, though her face quickly turned back into an impassive wall the moment I looked back at her.
While my mother and I had our silent battle of wills, Mibata rose up and began doing the dishes for Humey and Tokols so they could grab their wallets before lining up by the door. Mom gave each of them a quiet little whisper of reassurance on her way out, which surprisingly made both of them shift from worried to relieved. Was she actually getting better at recognizing when she upset her own kids? Either way, they seemed eager to jog out the door on their way to go shopping again. Juaki cast one last glance my way before she stepped out the door, and for some reason I couldn’t help but smile at her to let her know I wasn’t mad. She nodded at me, closed that big stone door with a loud thunk, and Mibata latched it from the inside.
Now it was just the three of us: Bahruk opening up the hidden treasure vault with his stoneshaping magic so he could poke at his finances again, Mibata displaying his prowess for methodical tasks by sharpening the kitchen knives like a machine, and myself deciding that all of the little cubby spaces around the main room could use some cleaning. The main line of reasoning I was following was that there were so many shelves around this room that I haven’t looked in that maybe there was something useful or interesting at the very least. There were books that I had already read, some shiny rocks, a figurine that Humey made out of sticks when he was small, and a hand drawn picture of a valley filled with trees. A lot of the shelves just seemed to be full of supplies as usual, but one little slot had a surprise in it: a locked box with a bronze latch, hidden behind a sack of coal we never used.
I had my claws on the box and was pulling it out of its hidden crevice when my Dad suddenly slithered up behind me.
“Excuse me, miss? I do believe that you are digging through your parents’ belongings.”
I let go of the box out of reflex and put my hands up, pursing my lips as my eyes widened. Bahruk laughed at my reaction and patted me on the shoulder, reassuring me as a tear rolled down his cheek.
“No, it’s okay, sweetest, I’m not mad. Whew, sorry, your reaction was too funny though. Go ahead and bring that out. No sense in hiding it from you, but I have to admit I forgot I even hid that. Here, let me get the key.”
He suddenly leapt onto his bed and crawled over the plush layer of furs and sheets, moving all the way to the farthest side to stick his hand into a small hole just barely hidden behind a pillow. He pulled out a key and came crawling back, a happy smile on his face as he slid over to sit at the edge of the bed. I hoisted the box up to him, noting how heavy it was and how the contents shifted slightly, and set it beside him so he could access the lock. This was just like some kind of show and tell, so I couldn’t help but cross my legs and sit in front of him, my tail subconsciously wiggling behind me as he popped the lock and swung the chest open. I caught a smell of dust and oil from inside, crinkling my nose as the stale scent hit me. Bahruk seemed to share my reaction, but oddly enough sniffed in deeply as a grin spread across his face.
“This is a box of my mother and father’s things, as well as some things my grandfather left behind. I wanted to show these to you earlier, but I really did forget where I left them. Go ahead and look at them. I will tell you more, if you like.”
With his permission I began to explore the contents of the box, first by removing a thick leathery flap from the top in order to view the contents. One by one items came from the box, which I would hold up to have their history unraveled. The first item, a pair of gigantic leather gloves with fur padding the inside, caused Bahruk to laugh.
“My grandfather’s gloves. He was an ice breaker on the docks, going out onto boats and up the masts in order to break the riggings free so that the crew could set sail quickly. He had the biggest arms, as you can see by how big his gloves here are. He was known as ‘Iron Knuckle Gern’ because of how he’d punch frozen doors open.”
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I was momentarily bewildered by his statement. Great Grampa Gern, the ice punching mammoth. The mental image I formed was literally just an upscaled version of Bahruk, plus a fur coat and a bit of an underbite. A soft chuckle escaped me as I rooted around in the box for the next item, which happened to be a silver necklace depicting a snowflake medallion. It was actually very small, too small for even the smallest member of our family: my father.
“This… was my grandmother Wenakt’s necklace. I never got to meet her, but this was hers. I only heard from rumors and stories that she was a rather feisty woman, even though she was no bigger than a sack of grain. She was a furnace keeper, and every day she would find Gern by the fire warming up. Somehow they fell in love, had my mother, and raised her as best as they could. Then she got sick, and no healer could help. Gern kept her necklace with him every day, looped through a hole he carved into his own horn.”
There was a hint of pride and sadness in my father’s words, and a smile on his face that told me just how much he loved these fond memories. I looked at the medallion once more, and a slight chuff came from me as I reached for my slate.
“He sounds like he was incredible. I would love to hear more about him sometime.”
Bahruk read my words, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to keep himself from crying, if I had to guess. He opened them again and put his hand on my shoulder, the sadness in his eyes fading away while I felt the subtle surge of magic from his heart.
“Absolutely, Kayrux. I have many stories of my grandfather that you would enjoy, and I would be happy to tell you them any time.”
That sounds wonderful, Dad, I’d really like to hear them. I gave him a single nod, then we began to dig through the box again.
Inside were more objects that were little pieces of history from a city I’ve never known, little glimpses into a world of ice and iron. Some of the items were from happy times, such as the preserved petals of a flower that only blooms in frigid lands, the scented oil my grandfather would wear as cologne, and the broken and bent training tools my father had used when he first learned machining. There were also items in the box that held some sadness in them, such as a stamped document that told of my great-grandfather’s passing, or the broken pair of goggles that had saved Yabtin from a deadly accident. But at the bottom of the box, kept in a silky bag that Bahruk assured me was sealskin, was something I did not expect at all. It was a necklace of sorts, with numerous scales of varying colors tied in a line. Bahruk looked at it with a pensive look, then sighed before explaining it to me.
“Those… are the scales of my family. It is an old custom from the past that a family would collect scales from their loved ones at the time of their first year, or on the day of their passing, and tie it to a thread. If a family was to die off, this would be hung in a memorial for the dead. This chain was made for me before I left. The scales at the top, the small blue one and the big orange one, that is Gern and Wenakt. Then it is my mother’s orange and my father’s tan. Below there you can see my brother and I, orange and purple, with your mother’s scale tied to mine.”
I felt something odd as I held this chain of scales. These were pieces of my family, ones I’ve never met, and yet holding them in my hand it felt oddly vivid for me. Just seeing it and holding it was so grounding, and from them I could even smell a faint whisper of what the owners of these scales must have smelt like. It was bizarre enough to send a shiver down my spine, but at the same time I could feel the weight of the significance of it, the comforting knowledge that I was holding a piece of history in my hands.
Whether out of fear of dropping it or simply because I felt like I was disrespecting the dead I gently passed it on to my Dad, who shot me a look of understanding. He gently patted my shoulder as he fumbled with the item, rubbing his thumb over Juaki’s scale.
“It is okay. I know the feeling of holding it for the first time. You miss the family that is connected to this thread, but at the same time you are glad to know that one day you will be a part of this as well. And I do hope that one day, once you are a year old, you will allow me to add one of your scales to this. That way, even if you are to go out and explore the great world, a part of you will never leave your family behind and keep you here with us.”
It took me a second to really grasp what he’d said, or rather, I felt like he was saying a quote backwards. The idea I’d grown up with on earth was the same old ‘we’ll always be with you’ or ‘wherever you go we’re always there with you’ slop. For these people… my people, it was more symbolic and meaningful to know that a part of you would never leave home. The tradition sounded like a two-fold method of giving your family something to mourn when you passed as well as to offer them reassurance that some part of you would never be far away. Somewhere, deep in my heart, that message struck a chord with me, maybe because in my last life I’d never done that for anyone else.
I chalked down another message for Bahruk, and to leave both of our hands open I sat it in his lap.
“When you say I can, I would love to add one of my scales to the chain. Nothing would make me happier, or be a greater honor than that. I want to be a part of this tradition.”
There was a glimmer of joy in his eyes, which translated immediately into him giving me a firm pat on the back.
“I promise that you will, when the time comes.”
A silence fell upon the room as we shared this inexplicable moment, as if I understood him in a way I’d never been able to see until now. Maybe I just overlooked how much he loved his family, but seeing how he kept all this stuff and wanted to bring us into it as well, it finally drove home how much importance these values had for him. It was our legacy, our history, and our connection he cared about, since Juaki took care of keeping us safe and disciplined. He took care of us the way that suited his personality, and his lack of physical strength.
I leaned in and wrapped an arm around him, returning his affection in kind and just taking in the moment. I could feel the warmth of his scales, the flickering dance of his mana, the pressure of his hand on my shoulder, and the rise and fall of his body following his breaths. I was focusing on him so much that it took me a few seconds to realize that it was a tad bit quiet in the room, which Bahruk pointed out by rolling his eyes upwards to someone looming to my left. I didn’t need to turn to know it was Mibata, since he was the only other person here and I had gotten accustomed to sensing his particular shape of mana. He stood over me for a second, then spoke in a rather soft voice.
“Father… may I be permitted to take part in this as well? Perhaps Tokols and Humey as well? I find the sentiment of this tradition fascinating, and I would very much like to be a part of it, if you would allow me to.”
A glimmer of joy sparkled in my father’s eyes as he heard those words, turning his entire body to face Mibata with a smile on his face. I turned to look at him with what I hoped was a happy smile and not a ‘I knew you’d say that’ smirk on my face. His narrow, calculating eyes flicked to mine as if he knew I’d anticipated him, though knowing him he probably did this because I showed interest first. Well, whatever, so long as it made our Dad happy.
“Allow you to? Son, I would be, no, I am overjoyed to hear you ask. Knowing you, your brothers, and Kayrux, I was sure just pulling this out of the box that you would be interested, but hearing it… by the scales of elders past, it makes me so happy. If your brothers wish to do the same, then on your day of hatching in one year’s time, I swear to add you to this strand. Come here, son.”
Bahruk rose to his feet and strode towards Mibata with his arms out wide, which made my brother become stiff in the joints and tail. He awkwardly stood there as Dad wrapped his arms around his stomach, his horns just barely reaching his shoulder. There was a pause as the tension left Mibata’s body, though his soft smile never went away at any point and even became a bit wider as he hugged his father back. For such a stern guy, my brother just couldn’t keep face when his family showed their care for him.
Unfortunately, as was the case with my brother getting any kind of affection for longer than sixty seconds, he began to fidget and look for an opportunity to squirm away. Bahruk recognized what was happening and slowly took his arms off him, giving him a parting pat on the arm that made the tall boy stop trying to distance himself.
“I’m proud of you, my boy. You’ve grown up so fast, even for our kind.”
While my brother took that statement as a compliment and murmured something quietly in return, I took that statement as an indirect call-out. I got the gist of how kobolds usually act when they were younger just by being around Vimna and her siblings. They were just a bit younger than us, but they were so youthful and carefree. Our life as it is forced them to grow up too fast, with all the danger surrounding us. Maybe I had a hand in it as well, being who I am: a soul from another world.
Rather than dwell on the possibilities of things I couldn’t prove, I decided to slowly pack the chest up with all of its heirlooms arranged back as they were when we opened the chest. Once everything was tucked away, I carefully arranged a set of refining runes in my palm, making sure that I was only feeding them a miniscule amount of power so as to not damage the wood I was trying to clean. A few passes of my hand left it as clean and shiny as if it were just made and polished down to the creaky hinge and wobbly latch with the lock on it. I took it into the little treasure room behind the kitchen wall and found a nice place for it on a shelf where it would be in full view of whoever came in here. Maybe I was just being a little sentimental about it, but I had a bit of trouble pulling my hand away from the wooden surface on my way out.
Back in the main den, my brother and father were sitting in the main divot chatting about more stories about great-grandpa the ice breaker and how he was an icon on the frigid docks. I decided to not only return to them and listen in, but I even found myself sketching this somewhat mythical figure in these stories. Dad really liked to see how I drew Gern, and eventually I managed to capture his likeness. As it turned out, Gern not only had a big pair of arms and a broad chest like a wrestler, but he had some kind of frills that would puff up whenever his emotions got to him. I managed to make a good sketch of him, right fist out in a punch, left arm up to his chest, frills out and medallion swinging from his left horn. This picture is going on the wall, colored and framed right next to Humey’s art display.