Quinn blinked at Arnekai, unsure she’d heard her correctly. “What do you mean, you want me to help heal your son? I’m not a healer... well, I mean, I can heal a little bit, but I haven’t spent enough time with that affinity yet to be excellent at any of the techniques I know. There’s been so many other aspects I’ve had to learn urgently...” she trailed off when she realized she was rambling.
Arnekai shook her head. “I am aware. But my son puts weight on what you say and how you act. His worry for you is impeding his recovery, and frankly, if I could just knock the stubborn child out and take him back home, he’d heal all that much faster.” Her tone was curt, irritated.
“You know he’d fight you every step of the way once he wakes up,” Quinn decided blunt was the best way to go.
Arnekai looked at her, like she didn’t know what to say, and then burst out laughing. “You do know my son well. Better than I do, it appears.” She sighed and walked in, plopping herself down on the couch. Her long arms reached out to either side across the back of the couch as she crossed one leg and eyed Quinn up and down without even an attempt to hide the examination. “I need your help. It isn’t something I am good at asking for. I wasn’t raised that way, and frankly, I didn’t intend to raise my son the way I did. It may not seem like it, but I’ve always only wanted what’s best for him.”
Quinn took it all in, mulling it over, and realized she was right. She had done what was best for him. As far as the Librarian could figure out, Arnekai had left the rearing of her child to her husband, and after his death, to Milaro. She knew she wasn’t the most nurturing, and that she was always busy. The realization softened Quinn’s attitude to her ever so slightly. “Perhaps. But I’m not sure he understands it the way you intended it. Probably something you should rectify sooner than later?” She asked pointedly. Assumptions did cause so many misunderstandings after all.
“Note taken.” Arnekai let out a sigh and briefly closed her eyes. In that second, she seemed a little older than usual, perhaps almost ageless, and yet completely and utterly timeworn. As if the weight of ages sat on her shoulders.
In a way, Quinn guessed, it kinda did. In a protecting an entire quadrant from the rampant approach of chaos sort of way, anyway.
The silence became awkward and Quinn wasn’t sure how to restart it.
“Anyway!” Arnekai broke the ice first again. “I need you to soothe my son. He’s worried about you and nothing I say belays that fact.”
“Sooth him? Like... mind magic wise? You want me to use magic on him?” Because Quinn couldn’t think of any other way for her to help soothe him. Malakai, as a general rule, didn’t tend to listen to a word she said. So telling him to just calm down wasn’t going to go over well anyway.
“No... not Milaro’s tricks. Our racial traits.”
Quinn blinked and rubbed her temples. “But I can’t use that aura stuff... not yet.”
“You have our distilled essence as well. It should be no problem for you to suggest that my son relax a little more than he has been and to take the sting out of it when you do.” Arnekai crossed her arms, giving Quinn a pointed look.
First up, Quinn had no idea how Arnekai knew about the distilled essence, although she realize that Milaro probably didn’t just kidnap a darigháhnish and forcibly extract it from them...so it’d make sense for their leaders to be aware of the inclusion in the experiment. “I’m not trained in that yet. I’d be wary of using anything I’m unsure about the results of. I’m not going to hurt someone I care about because I blundered with something by rushing it.”
She saw that Arnekai was about to object and held up a hand to forestall it. “But I can go and talk to him. He might even listen to me this time.”
Arnekai’s gaze narrowed and she pursed her lips as if contemplating what Quinn said in earnestness. “That might suffice, but you should have no trouble projecting a calming aura toward people. Soothe them, take away their worries. It makes everyone so much easier to deal with.”
“By taking away their ability to have gut reactions? Or instinct checks? Nope,” Quinn shook her head. “I’m not condoning that. I’d prefer to be kind, maybe a bit genuine even, and worry about the repercussions later.”
“You don’t take away their choices, you just help sooth their anxiety,” Arnekai scoffed.
And it was in that moment Quinn could see the stark difference between the mother and son. Mal would never use his abilities in that way just to make his life easier for himself. Perhaps it wasn’t out of hand to stop him from worrying enough so he could heal. But she wouldn’t feel right about doing something like that. It felt underhanded. “Why couldn’t you just do it?”
Arnekai scowled. “He has his defenses auto set against me.”
“So you tried then?”
“I was talking to him, and it became obvious that...” She paused and sighed. “Yes. I did try to make him feel better. It’d just make everything so much easier.”
“Did you ever think not everything is supposed to be easy?” Quinn asked softly. “Especially when it comes to people. You can’t just push what ails them mentally aside for your own benefit.” Not to mention the fact that this was probably one of the reasons that Milaro wasn’t so fond of the darigháhnish elves. After all, Nishpa and Milaro’s mental healing was all about consent.
“Easy makes things move faster, and if they’re faster, then I can get back to the things that I have to do. My responsibilities don’t take a break just because I leave the sector.” Arnekai let her head fall into her hands, the tight white braid down her back barely moving as she did.
Quinn wasn’t sure what it would be like to be in Arnekai’s shoes and hoped she never had to find out. Even though she didn’t agree with the elf, didn’t mean she couldn’t find some sympathy. Especially when it was more directed toward Malakai than his mom. “Look. I’ll go check on him. I’ll talk to him. It’s about all I can do. But I’m not about to talk him into leaving if he doesn’t want to.”
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Arnekai nodded. “Thank you. It is appreciated, even though I think it’ll do little good.” She stood up, dusted her hands off on her pants for some reason and headed to the door. “I’ll get back to the kitchen then. There are several darigháhnish concoctions I can cook for him that should make him feel more comfortable in the interim.”
Quinn watched the woman go, and Aradie flew to her shoulder, chittering in her ear. “I know, I know... can’t judge every book by its cover. Although maybe in this case...”
Aradie gently nipped at her ear.
“Not cool, bird.” Quinn said, pulling away. She knew Aradie wasn’t fond of being called a bird instead of an owl. In Quinn’s mind, they were kinda the same thing, but she could understand it. Generally she didn’t insult the owl, but her ear was still smarting from that nip.
With the owl still slightly disgruntled and sitting on her shoulder, Quinn made her way out of the office and toward the infirmary. She was certain Milaro was in there from the way his location pinged ever so subtly through her senses. Ikeshal was still there, so Hal hadn’t been yet either... she wondered why it was taking him so long to prepare for the satyr and the imp. If she remembered, she’d ask him when he finally did arrive.
The infirmary sat on the other side of Farrow’s apparently ever-expanding herb garden. Not for the first time Quinn wondered how the Library fit all that into itself. Not necessarily in a size way, but from the fact that Quinn was fairly certain it should have already pushed into the Library proper by now and it hadn’t.
Still... its own dimensional pocket, right?
Apparently it changed all the laws of physics.
The infirmary had evolved since Malakai was injured way back when they had to get the first book from Kajaro. It was no longer two little cubicles, but a series of rooms partitioned by removable walls. It was light and airy and gave a sense of peace with its pale blue walls and the plants Farrow had transported over to it.
Malakai actually sat up in bed, his black and white hair pulled back into a ponytail instead of his habitual braid. Maybe that was one way of rebelling against his mother. Milaro stood next to him, administering something magical in nature. There were waves around the both of them if Quinn squinted. Getting used to the whole magical sight thing was still a work in progress. She wondered if she’d ever hit a point where she knew most of what she needed to.
Right now, that seemed like a pipe dream.
Aradie hooted once, softly, announcing their presence without startling them.
Malakai’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave her a welcoming grin that echoed his grins from the past. He seemed to be doing better from a quick run over him with her senses.
“What brings you here? Did you want to come use me as a shield again? I am almost fixed up.” He winked at her, like he was taking the bite out of his words, but it didn’t work.
Quinn still experienced overwhelming guilt that he’d been hit by an attack meant for her, as well as the one for himself. She could practically feel the color drain out of her face as he spoke.
“Shit. Sorry,” he said hurriedly. “I was just teasing. I didn’t really think.”
“It’s okay,” Quinn said, wishing it really was. He didn’t need to be worrying himself about her current headspace on top of trying to heal. That wasn’t his problem at all. Besides, she knew once he’d recovered better that she’d be able to give as good as she got. It was just going to take some time.
“So... you were here not too long ago? Why the long face? What’s happened?”
He definitely sounded much stronger now. Finally, for the first time in weeks. Even if it was only because Arnekai was there, it was still a win in Quinn’s book. “Just came in to see how you’re going, that’s all.” She was unable to keep the relief from her voice.
His eyes narrowed, and he glanced up at his grandfather, who shrugged before turning away. “Arnekai went to see you, didn’t she? Is she trying to convince you to let her take me back with her?”
Quinn shook her head. “I’m not about to intervene in anyone’s life in that way when you’re perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Don’t worry, you get to stay here and worry and stress all on your own.”
Malakai laughed quite heartily, and then winced as his body moved a bit too much. “Damn... don’t make me laugh.” The chuckling continued for a few more seconds before he finally sighed. “Look. I’m going to be fine. You do know that, right?”
“You’re worried about me though, and that can’t be good for your recovery,” she spoke softly, unsure whether she should bring it up at all. “I’m going to be finer than you. I mean, I have freaking dragon scales and you’re just a darigháhnish.” She winked at him.
“True. That’s pretty cool.” He nodded at her arms.
Quinn smiled, still proud of her ability to coat herself in her new armor. Or. she guessed existing armor that she’d only recently learned to harness consciously. There, that was a better description. She had it to the stage where she could summon its spread, control it, and keep it over her body for a prolonged duration. Her arms, legs, torso, even her feet and neck. It could extend over her face, but she was still having trouble figuring out how to allow room for her eyes, nose, and mouth.
That whole lack of oxygen thing? Bad for her health.
Still... being able to manipulate the scales somewhat, gave her a level of safety she’d been lacking before.
“You realize I’m more worried about you than you are about me for a good reason, right?” Malakai said as Milaro basically tried to squeeze himself into the wall by the sink and medications as he measured doses, pretending he wasn’t fully eavesdropping on every word they said.
“Well... I mean, I know you’re worried about me, but I’m not sure why? I’ve been working at solidifying and enhancing the skills I do have before I move onto other affinities. I’m trying to be pragmatic about everything and I’m not about to go and jump into danger on my own.” She’d really attempted to be mature about pursuing her abilities. Gaining power in the types she already possessed before moving onto others made complete logical sense in her mind.
“That’s not what I mean.” Malakai struggled to push himself up into more of a sitting position. “It’s not that you can’t handle or haven’t handled it. That’s not the point. The thing is Quinn, have you really sat down and examined how you feel about everything you’ve been through up until now?”
Quinn stared at him, trying to twine the words into something that made more sense in her mind. Only, she then realized it made a lot of sense. Shoved into an extended universe, learning about magic, realizing she was a magical being with genetic code she’d never imagined, being chased by countless people who didn’t want her to exist, and dealing with some of them one on one.
It hit her like a bit of a mac truck.
She stumbled slightly and pulled a chair over to sit down as thoughts began to bombard her. When she’d thought they’d killed Kajaro initially, heck, even before that when she’d had to fight engorged bookworms, carrying it through to the Esposians and the demon tree... “Oh,” she said, breathing out. He was right, as per usual, which was infuriating. She’d sort of just been going on and on without looking back. Soldiering through everything to just get them to a point where the Library was functional and working as intended.
Malakai didn’t say anything but just followed with his gaze, his eyes full of an understanding Quinn now grasped all too well.
Milaro chose then to move. He didn’t say anything, nor did he hide his movements, but was suddenly there with a comforting presence, and a steady hand against her shoulder. “Don’t forget to breathe,” he said, but not unkindly. His tone was filled with a level of compassion that almost brought tears to Quinn’s eyes.
A lot had happened. A lot was going to happen.
All she had to do was take it one step at a time, right?