Fifty-six minutes. That’s how long Viri lasted sparring with her mother before she took a kick to her left shin that left her sprawled out in the grass looking up at the clouds. Her mother’s fluttering laugh echoed through the open space as she stood over Viri, offering her a helping hand. “You know, you really should stop leaving yourself so open,” her mother joked.

Viri groaned.

She wasn’t some amateur when it came to fighting. Not by a long shot. Her mother trained her from a young age to make sure she could go toe to toe with the best. The problem was that her mother was better than the best.

Gwinera Harper wasn’t your run-of-the-mill parent. Not only was she a tall, stunning woman with olive skin, freckles, hazel eyes, and loose onyx curls that fell to her hips, but she was also a distinguished war veteran with more kills than most of their country’s current militia force combined. She was a powerhouse whose name was still feared and revered to this day, and Viri understood why as she rubbed away the pain in her leg.

She took her mother’s hand and muttered, “We can’t all be the leader of some top secret, super feared army battalion.”

“That’s ‘retired leader of some top secret, super feared army battalion’ to you,” her mother corrected.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Viri dusted herself off and walked towards the house to get a bottle of water. She got to the door and vaguely heard her mother say, “Bring me something to drink, will ya?” She gave her a thumbs up and walked into the house, briefly catching a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror and cringing at the sight.

What started as a sleek bun that took twenty-five minutes to tame, was now a wild, red heap of falling curls and tangles, with a hair tie somewhere in the mix. Her vermillion hair was practically her trademark. It was like a living flame that now resembled a rat’s nest, and she was too tired to do anything about it, so she continued her trip to the kitchen.

Her childhood home was a large, renovated cabin that felt like you walked into a sunset as soon as you opened the door. Her mother had thrown deep reds and oranges in every room in the form of pillows, throw blankets, kitchenware, rugs, and even bedding. Photographs of Viri and her mother filled the house. It was like walking down memory lane as she rounded the living room sofa and made her way to the fridge to grab their drinks.

By the time she made it back outside, her mother was sitting in one of the rocking chairs on their front porch, redoing her braid that had come loose during their sparring match.

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“Heads up!” She tossed her mother her drink and sat down in the chair beside her. She guzzled her entire bottle of water in less than a minute. She had to stop partying so late on Saturday nights. Especially when she always came to train with her mother bright and early on Sundays. Her mother was staring at her with an arched brow and Viri knew she was thinking the same thing.

She didn’t feel like being lectured, so she decided to change the subject by lifting what remained of her tangled bun and asking, “Mind fixing mine next?” Her mother chuckled and shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to disturb the home of whatever creature has made its way in there and settled down.”

Viri reached up to touch her hair and cringed at the fact that it did feel like an animal’s nest. She sighed, “Well, looks like the rest of my Sunday will be a hair day.”

“Better than spending it at the bars or wherever else you go to ‘turn up’ these days,” her mother said while side-eyeing her. “Ewe mom. Turn up? Who’s teaching you this? And are we gonna do the whole ‘lecture me about partying’ thing today? It doesn’t have to be a weekly discussion. I know how much you’d prefer I spend my days inside and away from the ‘dangers of the world.”

Viri was vividly aware of how much her mother hated that she spent so much time going to bars or finding adventures to go on. It turned into a heated argument between the two at least once a week.

She knew her mother only wanted to protect her, but she couldn’t be a twenty-two-year-old recluse to appease her. Gwinera rolled her eyes. “I’m not lecturing you, Viri. I just wish you’d be more careful. The dangers of this world are real. I’d rather you didn’t have to find out the way I have.”

The sadness in her mother’s tone cooled the irritation that was bubbling to the surface. She leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I know, mom. I promise I'm always careful.” Her mother sipped her drink, resigned to end the conversation there.

Viri’s phone rang as she leaned back into her chair. She swiped the screen to answer it, and a small hologram of a pale woman with wavy, shoulder-length blue and purple hair appeared over the screen. “What’s up buttercup?” Viri asked while struggling not to laugh at the image of her best friend devouring a burger on her living room sofa.

Alyson didn’t even bother swallowing the massively large bite she’d taken before responding, “What time are you coming home? The new episode of ‘Elven Love’ comes on in like forty-five minutes and we finally get to see who Tristyn is gonna choose as his bride. I don’t want to watch it without you, but if I have to choose you or the show, I’m choosing the show Vi-vi.”

Viri chuckled. “I’m leaving my mom’s place now. I’ll be there in like thirty minutes.”

Gwinera leaned over so that Alyson could see her and said, “You know, it’s customary to say hello to the woman who practically helped raise you, and to do so without food in your mouth.” Alyson choked on the bite of burger she’d just taken and Viri busted out laughing.

“Sorry, mom! Heyyyyy! I’ll swing by next Sunday with Viri so I can make it up to you. Love you!” Gwinera gave Alyson a stern look and simply leaned back in her chair. Viri clamped her mouth shut to keep from laughing as Alyson evil-eyed her before hanging up the call.