Funnily enough, there were so many ways Quinn had pictured this moment, but for the life of her, she couldn't think how to approach it now that she was in it. She'd wanted to say something like, Well, I'm the bloody Librarian, but that felt a little too cocky for this situation. Instead, she gave a sort of half-smile and said, "I'm Quinn. I'm the new Librarian."

It was like night and day on Malakai's mother's face. Arnekai smiled, and it was as if the entire woods lit up. It was such a beautiful expression. It took away all of the sinisterness, all of the trepidation Quinn had felt, and put her at ease. That's when she remembered that the darigháhnish had an innate mind-soothing ability, and she made sure to strengthen the wards protecting her own.

"I've been dying to meet you. I've heard so much about you," Arnekai said, her smile reaching her eyes.

Quinn was mildly confused. "You've heard about me from...?"

"Well, you know, grapevines being what they are, and people do talk. They talk a lot about you. You're apparently very nice." Arnekai gave a little wink.

Quinn couldn't take a step back because Malakai was directly behind her but she would have if she could have. She smiled, not knowing quite how to take that compliment. "Um, thanks," she said.

Arnekai laughed, and it was a beautiful sound, just as amazing as she looked when she smiled. The transformation that came over Malakai’s mother was decidedly odd. Like she was two different people.

"Anyway, has Malakai been giving you any trouble?" she asked, winking at Quinn.

Quinn took a step to the side and looked between the son and the mother, and patted Malakai on the shoulder. "See, I told you it wouldn't be that bad."

He sent a ferocious scowl in her direction, and didn't say a word.

Instead, Quinn answered the question. "I mean, he's never been any trouble."

"Well, that's wonderful, isn't it," Arnekai said. "Come on, come, come, I've prepared a lovely morning feast. I thought you'd really enjoy sampling some of our food."

Quinn glanced at Malakai, who simply shook his head almost imperceptibly, and followed after his mother. Quinn didn't have to run to catch up, but the underbrush did give her some pause. Roots broke the surface here and there just enough to lend caution to her steps.

Pale blue and purple light streamed off Arnekai, sometimes mixed with the occasional white brightness. It lit the way better than the twilight that permeated the rest of the woods. Quinn sensed the people all around them. They looked at them, the curiosity in their eyes practically breaking through her skin. She put her gaze directly on Arnekai's back and followed, lest she either lose her temper or embarrass herself.

They made their way to one of the houses that was built into the trunk of a massive tree. It wasn't an oak like the redwoods in California, but it reminded Quinn of them, size-wise. However the coloring was all wrong. Blacks and blues, deep greens and purples.

She followed Arnekai onto what appeared to be a sort of patio. It had a table, multiple chairs, with an awning overhead bedecked with tiny lights. Food Quinn couldn't identify by sight was arranged in different dishes spread out on the table and it smelled fantastic. All these different scents mingled together to make what Quinn thought of as absolutely appetizing.

Malakai's scowl, however, had deepened further.

Arnekai gestured to a seat on her left and Quinn took it. "So, Miss Librarian, tell me all about yourself."

"I'm Quinn. The Library found me and now I'm a Librarian." She wasn't exactly sure what to say except the bleeding obvious. Nothing in her past life was particularly relevant here anymore.

Arnekai's eyes widened slightly with surprise. "Well, that's a little bit dull. What did you do before this?"

"I was studying to be a Librarian..." Quinn said, realizing that maybe this was a huge step up from her life on Earth. Not that she hadn't already realized that. Libraries on earth had nothing on this one. She had to admit to being pretty lucky that the Library found her even if a part of her wondered about what would have happened if it hadn't. Would her mythical side ever have been unlocked? "Yeah, I've always loved books."

"Well, that seems very interesting." Arnekai didn't sound like she meant it at all. "And tell me, what planet was it again?"

"Oh, a non-magical planet. It was really lucky that they found me," Quinn said. For some obscure reason, she didn't exactly feel like giving out all of the information, even if this was Malakai's mom.

"It's okay, Quinn. She knows." Malakai said, his voice strained.

"Oh, you know." Quinn said. If Arnekai already knew, then that was a different story.

"Who do you think gave you the darigháhnish essence to distill? I had to extract it myself. And I had to make sure it came from the most reliable sources. It's a very difficult thing to do. Milaro should have told you this." Arnekai sighed, but there was no theatrics to it this time. "He's never been overly fond of me, or my kind."

"Stop it, Mum." Malakai snapped. "You know the reasons Grandfather isn't fond of you."

"Well, of course I do, but he's also extremely mistaken and has always been so very judgy." A smile played across her lips before she continued. "You've always been my little snuggums. You know I adore you. But there are just so many reasons why you couldn't come and be with me. And we all know that I'm right."

"Really, Mom? Really?" Malakai crossed his arms. "You're right all the time?"

"Well, yes, actually. As it turns out, if your father had listened to me, he'd still be here." All of Arnekai's levity was suddenly gone and her tone could have cut through stone.

Malakai pushed his chair back so fast it fell over and stood, glaring at his mother. "That's not fair. You know it wasn't his fault."

"No, dear, it wasn't his fault. But he shouldn't have died and left us alone. He shouldn't have been there in the first place. I warned him about the dangers and he went anyway. Now he’s gone." All emotion disappeared from Arnekai's expression.

Quinn was overcome with fascination as she watched them discuss the subject as if she wasn't even there. Arnekai's whole demeanor had changed. She was serious, not intimidating this time, but there was a melancholy that swept over her. It was infectious. It hurt Quinn in her chest like it was attacking her heart. There was no doubt Mal's mother was deeply affected by whatever had happened to Malakai's father.

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The woman sounded distant as she spoke. "You don't know the half of it, son. You have no idea what we went through to get to that stage and how much I pleaded with him not to go."

"But he had to, Mum. It was important." Even Malakai sounded defeated.

"Yes, but we were important too. At least. We should have been." Arnekai ran a hand through her magnificent hair. The only sign of frustration she showed. "And now, now I have other responsibilities that pull me away and I can't be with you the way I need to. Don't mention your father again. I do not wish to speak of him."

And then, as if night was changing into day, the melancholy sensations suffusing the area dropped and were replaced by that brightness once again. She turned to Quinn. "I'm terribly sorry to bore you with our family drama, but you are, while not related by blood, sort of family, considering Milaro's little dilly-dallying experimentation. Now, tell me, how well has Snuggum's been doing? Or would you like to hear about some of his childhood adventures first?"

Quinn thought that given enough time, she might get along very well with Arnekai, as long as she didn't mention Malakai's father.

Ever.

Malakai, on the other hand, didn't seem to be vibing with his mother in any way whatsoever. He glowered in the corner, irritated and angry at her if Quinn was any judge. Still, they had come for her help, and Quinn wasn't about to blow that deal.

She smiled gently, determined not to waste this trip. "So, we did have some questions about Ardenil, your great-aunt, I believe it was."

That's when Arnekai's countenance changed slightly again. She glanced at Quinn, her expression closed off. "I do not wish to talk about that yet. We will have a nice breakfast, some good discourse, and then we will see."

Quinn felt pressure against her, as if Arnekai was trying to coax her into doing what she wanted. However, Quinn wasn't someone easily coaxed, but she did understand the reticence to talk about something one wasn't comfortable with yet. After all, they'd only just met, so Quinn couldn't exactly blame her.

A small smile softened Arnekai's face. "Now, I thought you might like to hear some stories about when Malakai was a small little snuggums."

Quinn grinned, despite the thoughts echoing around in her head. Surely they could offer Arnekai a few hours of company, considering she seemed to miss her son more than Malakai let on. Maybe he missed her more than he'd let on, too, although she wasn't entirely sure. Her reasoning for leaving him behind didn't seem to wash well with Quinn. It made her wonder what the real reason was, because this seemed too fabricated a reason.

She wanted to know more, but was quite certain after this first encounter that Arnekai wasn't about to elaborate. So, she just widened her smile. "Sure, tell me stories. I can always use more ammo to tease him with."

Arnekai chuckled. "Yes, that's a very healthy friendship to be able to make fun of one another and know that you're safe." She sighed, another pensive sound from her. Perhaps Malakai reminded her too much of her dead husband. Arnekai's dazzling grin was back. "You see, when he was four, Malakai picked up his first bow..."

"Oh no," Malakai groaned, "You're not going to tell her this one, are you?"

"Oh Mal, eventually I will tell her all of the stories, my little snuggums." Arnekai grinned impishly. "I've got a feeling Quinn will be around for a very long time."

"You know she will," he said irritably, even though a small smile ticked up the corners of his mouth. "You know she's going to be here for ages. It's not like she's got a specific life span anymore."

“Well, provided you can power her up in time,” Arnekai pulled herself back and squinted at Quinn. "Right now you're still pretty weak."

"Thanks," Quinn said.

"I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just that you have access to so much power." Arnekai gestured all around them, vaguely, in an encompassing way. "You have the ability to absorb more power than I've ever seen before."

She squinted at Quinn this time, really as if she was looking over her, into her, through her. "Yes. Oh dear. You are a bit of a conundrum aren't you. The Library has its hands full."

Quinn scowled. "I thought we were talking about Malakai, not about me."

"Oh Quinn, you're new and interesting. New and interesting is always my thing." Arnekai winked at her once again.

There was a loud rumble off in the distance. Arnekai's eyes narrowed and for a moment her eyes flickered. And then the smile was back, almost like it never left.

"Anyway, when he was four, Malakai picked up a bow for the very first time. You know, he had little," She sort of measured out a short length with her hands. "You know, kids have those little arms and they don't really reach everything very well. But he insisted he wanted to learn how to shoot that bow. So his father taught him. And well, he was so proud when he came to show me that he got really excited and accidentally shot his dad in the butt. It was the funniest thing, Quinn. Miyago was hopping around, yelling and cursing, saying: 'Ouch.' Malakai stood there, put the bow down and screamed so loudly and started sobbing. Have you ever heard my son scream?"

Quinn shook her head, fighting the urge to smile, but she couldn't help herself. The story was ludicrous and Malakai's expression was the icing on the cake. His skin had a beet red undertone, so embarrassed. Quinn needed to keep this in her pocket for a future date.

"I have not heard him scream." Quinn said, fighting the urge to giggle.

"Well," Arnekai said, glancing over at her son, "I don't think he'll offer to do so right now."

Malakai sighed as if he couldn’t win and then chuckled, "You're very right."

"I doubt my son will offer to show us how he screamed back then." She needled him, a smile on her face. "Still, his voice is a little deeper now. It wouldn't have quite the same effect. It was wonderful, though. It drew half of the village to us. And my poor husband had to yank the arrow out of his butt cheek. It didn't take long to heal. He had innate healing powers. It's a pity Malakai didn't inherit it."

"Hey, I got some of his healing ability, OK?" Malakai said defensively. "I can heal small injuries."

"Yep," Quinn said, "he's actually helped me a couple of times."

"That's refreshing." Arnekai didn't sound like she meant that at all. "He's actually helped somebody, not just stayed in a study or in a training hall."

"I've actually been quite active since Quinn arrived." Now he sounded indignant.

"Really? Has Millaro let you out of your cage?" Arnekai's scorn was barely concealed. Quinn suppressed a cringe.

There was a lot more in that statement to unpack than Quinn was willing to dive into. But right now, probably wasn't the time to bring that up.

Malakai crossed his arms and stood proud. "Grandfather has apprenticed me to the Library. I am Quinn's trainer."

"You're training the Librarian." Arnekai's words were full of derision.

The little bit of the tolerance she'd won from Quinn vanished. She shouldn't be deriding her child like that. Malakai had been integral in her acclimation to the Library and everything it needed from her.

"Yes, mother, I'm training Quinn. You haven't seen me for 10 years. You have no idea what I'm capable of anymore."

Arnekai leaned back in her chair. Her eyes focused on her son, her expression actually serious. She wasn't taking the mickey out of him this time. "Very well, you've made your point. Perhaps later, you will show me some of the improvements. I would like to see that."

"You would like that, would you?" Malakai said, his tone heated. "So it's supposed to be all to your convenience, is it, again? Look, we came here for a reason. You don't have to pretend to be the perfect mother."

"I've never pretended to be the perfect mother. All I've ever done is try to show you that I love you." Arnekai snapped, her beautiful face twisted ever so briefly in what looked like pain.

"Well, sometimes you kind of suck at it, mom." Malakai muttered.

"I'm not perfect." She reiterated, like she had to understand that herself.

"Wow, can I get that engraved on a key ring so I can carry it around and shove it in your face when I need to?" Malakai said.

Quinn, very wisely, kept quiet.

"Well," said Arnekai, pushing herself up, "I guess that's the end of the lovely reminiscent breakfast. I have rounds to do, Malakai. I'll be back in time for lunch."

She turned to Quinn. "I am sorry for the reception. I will, however, be available to discuss the pertinent information that you came here for once I have seen to my duties."

And with that, she took off, leaving Malakai stewing in his own frustration and Quinn missing the parents she'd lost in the accident.