After our little match, Dad and I cleaned up our makeshift arena and went home for breakfast. I walked in and was greeted by the heavenly aroma of cooked meat. Cerila was already sitting at the table, half-awake with bed head, and just gave me a slight nod of recognition as I sat down next to her. Dad joined us shortly after, my mom placed out plates of food to Cerila, and I then sat down with her plate.

“Um, dear? Where is my plate?” my dad asked.

"Only good boys get to eat breakfast,” she responded curtly.

“But Kal—”

My mom interrupted him before he could even finish. “He is my son. I will always feed him, even if he is being a bad boy.”

My poor father winced at her harsh words and deflated a bit. I was about to snicker at him when I looked down at my plate and noticed a distinct lack of protein.

My eyes darted towards my mom, who was just smiling at me, then to Cerila’s plate which was holding my portion of the meat hostage. Cerila was barely conscious as she shoveled food into her mouth.

Hey… that’s not fair. I’m a growing boy and I need my protein. I can’t be this short forever!

I waited for the opportune moment when she was about to put the food in her mouth and struck. I stabbed for a piece of meat, but Cerila batted my hand away without even flinching. I redoubled my efforts with a two-prong attack with a quick poke to her side and another attempt to recover my lost portion.

Once again, she deflected my hand away, but this time, Cerila flung the greasy slab of meat off her fork right into my face. The slab of meat just slid down my face as she stabbed it off and promptly ate it. She glared at me in silence. Mom just giggled, and Dad gave me a wry smile.

Guess I’m just no match.

“Are you going to go put that order in with Mr. Whitehelm today, Kal?” Dad asked me.

I signed.

Dad just scratched the back of his head and nodded. Both my parents had learned sign language to a moderate degree at this point. I tried to make it a habit to sign when Cerila was around, even if it was just a casual conversation that she wasn’t part of.

I figured it would take far longer for my parents to form that habit. It is a new language they both learned only recently, so it was probably hard for them to change the way they spoke over just a few months.

Also, after our match today, Dad decided it was about time I got my own spear made. My dad was handy, but he couldn’t forge anything out of metal, so we had to turn to Padraic’s father.

And since none of us attend The Garden anymore, Padraic typically comes over around mid-morning, where I act as his new teacher. I’ve continued Padraic and Cerila’s studies in both math and Elvish. Of course, I still teach Padraic sign language. Hopefully, it won’t take him too much longer to become fluent.

I asked.

She stared at me and shook her head from side to side. Guess it’s still too early for her. Even when she is like this, she seems much more animated and happy.

A few months of having her on a proper diet has rapidly changed her appearance. Cerila looks much healthier now and isn’t so unnaturally skinny anymore. Of course, she still has a ways to go, but it’s definitely an improvement.

She also seems to have gained some of her confidence back. Cerila no longer wears her same white cloak day in and day out like she used to, nor does she hide in her hood. I think that has to do with Mom always doting on her, which has boosted her confidence.

Mom treats Cerila like a long-lost daughter and spends a lot of time with her now. They often go shopping together, and Mom even made her a selection of handmade manaweave clothes for Cerila to wear. Even I only have a few handmade outfits from Mom…

Does that mean I’ve somehow become the second favorite child? No, surely not…

—

I finished up breakfast and got ready to go to Padraic’s place. I stretched out and had a nice big yawn.

I feel kinda off today.

It was always a peaceful walk into Owlkirk. Many of the villagers are out and about in the early mornings of the day, heading to work, shopping for dinner, or just doing whatever they do in the mornings. Most of the villagers waved to me or gave me simple greetings.

Some recognized me as the son of Alanis, the hunter and former Shadow Dancer, others as the child of Seana, the master manaweave seamstress, and a few recognized me as the town healer's student. It was a stark contrast to how the kids of Owlkirk treated me.

However, a small group of villagers would glare at me and give me dirty looks. I imagined they were the parents of the children I attended school with, and I’m sure they were told all kinds of twisted truths from their kids about the most recent events regarding Cerila and her family.

I mean I did cause a fight and break a kid’s wrist but… he had it coming. I have no regrets.

“Good morning, young man!” a friendly voice called out to me.

I turned around and smiled at Captain Amber and returned his greeting, “Good morning, Captain Amber.”

“What brings you out here so early? Shouldn’t you still be asleep?”

“No, sir. I just prefer waking up early and training with my dad. And I’m heading to the Whitehelm forge.”

“That’s a little odd? What kind of kid wakes up so early to train? Is your Dad forcing you? I can give him a stern talking to if you’d like,” he said jokingly with a bright smile.

“Haha, no, sir, but thank you. I like doing it this way.”

“Mm alright, if you say so.”

“But why does the captain of the rangers still do patrols, let alone so early in the morning?” I asked curiously. Usually, it was above the station of a commanding officer to go on daily patrols.

“And how exactly would you know what a captain should or shouldn’t be doing? Mmmm?” he asked with a grin.

Oops. A six-year-old shouldn’t know anything about military structure. Default answer time, curious child mode initiated.

“My dad told me you were important, so I thought it was weird for you to do patrols with everyone else.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Yeah, I don’t exactly have to do patrols with everyone, but I still choose to. It helps keep people happy, at least I think it does. The villagers like seeing somebody important from time to time, especially since they don’t often get to see the elders.”

I knew you were an admirable man, Captain Amber.

But this was the second time I’ve heard of the elders. I don’t know much about them other than the fact they essentially run the village and that Cerila’s dad used to be one.

“What do the elders do?” I asked.

“Pshh. Jack shit,” scoffed Captain Amber. He quickly shot a pleading look at me. “Sorry… pretend you didn’t hear that, please? It’s just they are well… elders. They make my job harder, and I make theirs harder. We just don’t get along very well, is all. They run the day-to-day operations of Owlkirk, everything from taxes to organizing festivals and such. They are the direct link to the capital, while we are the direct link to the military. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it makes sense,” I said simply.

Bureaucracy sucked in the age of space-faring civilizations, and I imagine it sucked here as well.

“How’s Cerila doing? Is she adjusting fine?” he asked me with genuine concern.

“Yeah, she is doing much better. She is healthier and happier than ever before. At least I hope she is…”

Captain Amber gave me a broad smile and chuckled to himself. “That’s good, and I’m sure she is much happier living with you now. Sorry I haven’t had much time to check in with you or her.”

“Your apology isn’t needed, sir. You’ve done everything we could ever ask for, so once again, thank you.”

“I.. uh. Yeah, sure, no problem, just doing my job. Talking to you is kind of weird, you know that, Kaladin? Are you sure you are really only six? What the heck are Dr. Jacobs and your parents teaching you?”

“Just how to be a good boy is all,” I responded with a smile.

Captain Amber stopped walking and spoke, “Well, you are shaping up to be… something. Anyways, this is where we part today, young man. Say hi to Cerila and your parents for me, and have a fantastic day, Kaladin.”

'“You too, Captain Amber, thanks for everything.” I waved to him as he walked away.

Good man.

—

After just a few more minutes of walking, I reached Padraic's place. Much like Grandpa’s office, Padraic and his family used the forge not only as a business but also as their home.

I didn’t want to intrude since they weren’t expecting me this morning, so I decided just to use the storefront entrance rather than their personal home. I reached for the door and tugged at it, but it didn’t open. But I could hear shuffling inside, so I just waited a moment. Finally, Mrs.Whitehelm opened the door, and she was wearing a bright orange apron.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Good morning, Mrs. Whitehelm,” I said cheerfully.

“Oh. Good morning, young man. You must be Kaladin, right?” she said with a smile.

“Uh… yes?” I said, confused.

Huh? Does she not recognize me or something? I mean, it’s been a few months since I’ve met her, but surely she couldn’t have forgotten me so soon?

“You must be here for Padraic. We just finished breakfast, so I’ll go get him for you.”

“Yeah, please, and thank you…”

“You don’t have to wait outside. Come on in, sweety.”

I just nodded and walked inside. The shopfront for the forge wasn’t very big. There wasn’t much to browse either. Just an odd assortment of iron weapons and farming tools. Pretty sure there are more shovels in this store than actual weapons.

According to Padraic, his father usually just does repairs on existing items and sometimes does personal orders. He also helps the rangers maintain their gear.

I was admiring a simple iron short sword when Mrs. Whitehelm called out to me. “Good morning, Kaladin. How are you today?” she asked me with a kind smile.

“Uhhhh, good morning?” I said, a little disoriented.

Am I losing my mind? I know I don’t feel myself right now, but Mrs. Whitehelm just came out to talk to me again, but this time she recognized me? But why did she greet me like this was the first time I’d seen her today? And why did she change her apron to a purple one?

“Are you here for my husband or Padraic?” she asked kindly.

“Both, actually. But didn’t yo—”

Mrs. Whitehelm cut me off before I could finish. “I’ll go fetch both of them for you. Just wait right here, okay?”

I just nodded and stood there in the shop, alone.

I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I don’t dream that often anymore, and most of my dreams are more like replays of old memories, so this would be a whole new journey for me. But the pinch brought a slight pain to my arm.

Have I ingested some kind of drug? Maybe I breathed it in by accident, and that’s why I feel weird? Or is this just how Padraic’s mom is? She could have dementia…

“Ayo, morning, Kal. Watcha doing here?” Padraic called out to me, breaking me out of my mental spiral.

“Well, I’m here to put in an order with your dad, so I figured I’d come over to do that, and we could walk to my house together.”

“An order, huh? That’s cool. I’m sure my dad will make you a fine whatever.” Padraic emphasized his father, and it seemed like he was pouting a bit.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I could have tried to make you something… if you wanted, I guess.”

Oh, Padraic, my friend. We both know you can’t. Maybe in a few years, buddy. I’m sure my friend would become a great smith one day, but he still needed years of practice.

“But my dad is the one paying for it, so I just can’t spend his money for your project,” I reasoned.

“I guess that makes sense… fine. Next time I’ll make you something, okay?”

I smiled internally. “Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I promise your hands will forge the next weapon I have made, my friend.

Mr. Whitehelm walked into the storefront and gave me a friendly wave. Ever since the whole Cerila fiasco, he has been treating me very differently from when we first met. Perhaps because I’m friends with his son now. A boisterous old Dwarf has replaced the shrewd businessman.

“Morning, little man! What brings you here so early, mmm?” Mr. Whitehelm asked me.

“I have a request. My father said this was all you needed.” I handed Mr. Whitehelm a sealed envelope my father gave me.

“Let me see…” Mr. Whitehelm ripped open the envelope and pulled out multiple pieces of parchment. “Huh? What the… by my beard… is this for you, boy?”

Mr. Whitehelm seemed both surprised and… ecstatic?

“Yes, it’s for me,” I replied.

“That mad man… to think he would ever show me this… I can’t believe my eyes.” Mr. Whitehelm’s eyes were darting around as he scanned the papers over and over again.

“My dad only wanted to know if you could do it. Does this mean you can’t?”

Dad only asked one thing of me, to make sure Mr. Whitehelm could complete the project was all he wanted to know. I didn’t even know what the letter's contents were besides that it had to do with my spear.

“Can I do it? Do you know who you are talking to, boy? Of course, I can do it! I swear on my ancestors, you will have your spear. But it will take at least a year to get all the material…. no, maybe even longer. Absolute insanity… Ember.” Mr. Whitehelm quickly cast a spell and set the parchment ablaze, turning it to ash. He was even sweating a little now.

“Dad! What are you doing!” Padraic yelled.

“Doing what was needed. I’ll never forget the contents of this letter for as long as I live. Nobody else’s eyes should ever see this information. I’m sure Kaladin’s father knows that. So tell your father I’ll take on the project, Kaladin,” Mr. Whitehelm said with an odd amount of zeal.

Dad? What the hell have you done to my friend’s father? And what was in that letter? It was just supposed to be a spear…

“Yea—” I stopped myself short as I heard footsteps. My eyes focused on the doorway leading toward the living space. Standing in the doorway was… Ms. Whitehelm and another Ms. Whitehelm?

I’m actually losing my damn mind.

I must have had a stupid look on my face as Mr. Whitehelm began chuckling. “What’s wrong? Seeing double? Haha!”

Mr. Whitehelm gave me a few slaps on the back as I looked up at him pleadingly. So I’m not hallucinating? Then why do I feel weird?

“Mira, Egla, stop teasing the poor boy already.”

“Aww, but we were having so much fun,” Mira responded with a pout, or wait… was that Egla?

Which one is which? How am I supposed to tell the difference between these two? Besides the different colored aprons, these two women are exactly the same. I thought identical twins sometimes had different-shaped heads, but that isn’t the case here. They could be clones in how much they look alike.

“Kal, what’s wrong?” Padraic asked me as he tilted his head at me. I thought he was messing with me but it seems he doesn't understand my confusion.

“Nothing… I just didn’t know your aunt and mom looked exactly alike, is all.”

“My aunt? You mean my mom,” Padraic corrected me.

“Huh?” I said weakly.

“Both of them are my mom,” Padraic said while looking at me like I was the stupid one.

I am missing critical information here. For example, do Dwarves require two females to procreate? This is beyond my understanding.

“I don’t understand…” I admitted.

Mr. Whitehelm let out a chuckle, “Mira is my wife you met when you came here for the first time. She is wearing the purple apron and is Padraic's birthmother, you understand?” I nodded. “Egla is her sister who you just met today, understand?” I nodded. “Egla is also my wife, understand?”

“Huh?” I responded automatically.

Mr. Whitehelm just sighed and chuckled, “Just like how your dad loves your mother, I also fell in love with both Mira and Egla. And I married both of them, understand?” I nodded again but this time a little more slowly.

The concept of marriage used to be a weird thing to me. It wasn’t until I saw my parents that I began to understand the meaning behind it. Even then, I still didn’t quite get the point.

But marrying multiple people was utterly foreign to me. My old version of Humanity had all but abandoned the idea of having multiple partners. There were religious sects that attempted to persuade people to their ideals but they never lasted very long. I suppose it wasn’t that uncommon in Humanity’s early history but that was usually only the case for nobility or very important Humans.

But twin sisters? Mr. Whitehelm, what kind of man are you?

“Eh, this is probably a conversation you should have with your parents,” Mr. Whitehelm grumbled.

“We should get going, Kal,” Padraic suggested.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks again, Mr. Whitehelm. I’ll make sure I tell my dad what you said. And bye, Mrs. Whitehelm, and… it was nice meeting you, Mrs. Whitehelm,” how do I even address them?

I suppose Mrs. Whitehelm should do it for both of them.

Both of them just waved at me while saying “Bye, bye” and of course even then they sounded the freaking same. Mr. Whitehelm just chuckled and waved as Padraic pulled me out of the shop.

—

“What’s with you? I’ve never seen you get like that before?” Padraic asked me.

“What do you mean “like that” ?”

“I don’t know… I’ve never seen you act stupid before.”

“Hey… I just didn’t know, okay?” I said in defense.

“Wow… something you don’t understand? First time for everything, I guess,” Padraic cut back.

“Words hurt, you know?”

“Don’t give me that look, Kal… you know I’m just joking… mostly.”

I just sighed and pretended to be hurt. Although it did hurt a little bit. Of course, I’d never actually admit that.

We began walking back to my house in silence, just taking in the surrounding atmosphere of Owlkirk in the morning.

“Hey, Padraic… What's it like having two moms?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t know. What’s it like having one?” Padraic snapped back.

This is true. I guess I’m just projecting my ideals onto him. I just scratched my head, but I was curious. “Well, like, do you ever get them mixed up?”

“No, not really. I always know which one is which. They might be twins, and both of them are my mom, but they are different people, you know?” Padraic's voice was laced with evident annoyance.

“Sorry…” I muttered.

I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I shouldn’t be pushing the subject if Padraic doesn’t want to talk about it. I blame the weird feeling in my head for making such a mistake.

I really am sorry, though. I didn’t mean to make him mad…

Padraic just sighed. “It’s fine, and I’m sorry. I should know it’s different for you. You aren’t the first person to ask me. People think it’s weird, and nobody can seem to understand. But you see, I’ve spent my entire life with them. Both of them raised me. I care about both of them very much, and they both care about me. They both treat me like their son. I don’t see one any more of a mother than the other one. It’s just how things are.”

“I understand, I think,” I said.

I didn’t fully understand to be completely honest.

“Besides, you have nothing to worry about. You are still young. I’m sure you will figure it out someday,” Padraic said confidently.

Padraic… as far as you know, you are only two years older than me. So what do you mean I’m going to find out someday?

Then Padraic gave me his trademark shit-eating grin. It was the same damn grin he had when he was about to say something he thought was so funny. Padraic would start laughing before the words even came out of his mouth.

“I mean what’s the odds that you are going to find another fox girl in need anytime soon?” Padraic snickered.

“You are probably right, Pady.” Padraic just looked at me, mortified.

Don’t think I’ve forgotten our little promise.