The Parents
Bendeit
It was only after Karra had left a while that her mother began to calm down.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but you are Bovine Karra’s mother, correct?”
She wiped away her tears, “Yes. I am Junni ‘Sunflower’ Meadow.”
“Hmm. You… uh, you don’t look so good, madam,” and he winced, “….do you want to talk about it with me, or do you want to me to leave?”
Junni glared at him, “Why are you even here? You don’t owe me anything. In fact, it’s my daughter who’s put that big lump on your head there.”
“I…”
And the soldier’s instinct struck him, so he took a good look at the objective.
Junni Meadow.
You could see parts of her in Karra. They both had that straight dark hair, and further above, even that same curve to their horns. The way they spoke was similar, if only Junni’s more straightforward. And the way their faces were arranged, too: that flat nose in the middle, the set of their chins, those round wide eyes that faced ever slightly outwards.
But the similarities ended there.
Junni wore a coat with so many colours. The white laid the base, just like Karra’s, but instead of having beige only, there was also brown, orange, black as the secondary colours. And those colours came in every size. Some took up large splotches here and there, and in other places just tiny dots that he could’ve mistaken as freckles.
Her dark hair fell all the way to her waist instead of stopping at her shoulders, as Karra’s did. And her eyes… they remained set on him. They did not move or drift to the side like Karra’s did whenever she daydreamed, but clung onto him, as if he was the daydream.
It was only after she cleared her throat that he realized she was waiting for an answer.
“I asked you why you are here, Sergeant. And you seem to have taken an interest in me, hmm? You should keep your eyes from wandering, lest an old lady like me gets flattered.”
“Do not flatter yourself so, Mrs. Junni. It is a soldier’s nature to observe and analyse.”
She leaned against the railing leading up to the doors, “Huh. D’you speak like that to everyone?”
“Do you have a problem with me, Mrs. Junni?”
“No. No, Laarsh, no. Not you specifically. But if you were to… say, hurt my baby girl in any way, we will have a problem.”
He crossed his arms. This bovine… of course it did, but it reminded him of Gina. How many times had he come across her, hissing like a cat whenever Ina came home crying after a girl shoved her off the swings? They were mothers, after all.
And he knew how to handle his wife.
“I have no intention of harming your daughter. I know we had that misunderstanding that led to the battle hours ago, but we have cleared that out, haven’t we?”
She huffed downwards.
“You’ve been pushing her too hard, either way. That running was completely unnecessary. You think you’re some expert, or something?”
“I am an expert. I am an armstrainer. Besides, it was character building. She needed it.”
“I think I have the final say on what my daughter needs!”
Bendeit backed up, just a little, at the volume at which she said it. In all his life, he had talked to many bovines, traders passing by the city, roaming Clans that drifted close to the walls, but never had a bovine raised their voice to this.
Of course, he would’ve once thought bovines incapable of it.
But then again, a bovine had just knocked him out senseless. And the mother of that one bovine stood before him, the second bovine (after her daughter) in a long time to shout at him, and Bendeit blushed a little. How silly it was to try the same tricks for Gina.
They were completely different animals, but still the same species: women. And there was no formula for the unsolvable.
“Do you understand that? I have the final say…. Laarsh, you stay quiet a lot.”
“My… apologies. I may have found some… amusement in it. But I thought the extra physical practice would do her some good.”
He gave her a bow, and she deflated.
“Ugh… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have raised my voice… sorry, it’s just all been so confusing these past days. It feels like,” she flapped a hand, “…yeah, whatever. You can go.”
He raised an eyebrow, “You… you have something you want to say. And as a father myself, I have a duty to my children, but also to help other parents as well. I think. Well, I believe it. So, what do you want to say?”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“You… I really expected you to follow what I said, huh? I’ve been spending too much time with Karra. You humans are terrible at taking orders.”
His moustache twitched, “Yes. It comes and goes.”
Bendeit sat himself opposite her, on the other railing. Junni started nibbling on her nails, and sometimes she would glance up, maybe to see if the annoying human was gone, maybe to see if he had anything to say about it. When he made no comment, she continued. She was halfway through her second finger when she wiped it on her tunic and began to speak.
“I guess… nightmares, you’re not going anywhere, aren’t you? Well, you’re a father too, so I can speak about this,” and she cleared her throat, “but if you dare start talking to others about it, I will resort to physical pain.”
Maybe she wasn’t so different to Gina after all. He covered his smile by pretending to smooth his moustache, and said, “Not a word from me, Mrs. Junni.”
Her eyes drifted to the door, the one Karra had passed by minutes ago.
“Well… my daughter’s found new friends… and I guess… I guess I’ve spent so much time with just her that it feels strange not to. Now she’s gallivanting with that Rosemary and the healer, and… I don’t know. I just feel like she’s not spending enough time with me, even if we’ve spent our lives together. I feel like she’s drifting away.”
He let the speech filter through him, word by word, before he began to speak.
“My children are too young to drift away at the moment. Sameil is coming to six, and Ina two.”
“Two children? My goodness, your wife must have her hands full.”
“Not… particularly. She still has plenty of time for her gardening and reading. A good story and some attention will put the little ones to quiet for hours at a time. I think I’ve trained them well.”
“Oh… well, Karra… she was similar, I guess. But her daydreams were much worse, back then. You could lose her for a second and find her a hill away, talking about flying horses and castles.”
“But she got better?”
“What do you think?”
He leaned back, pulling the soldier back into him so he could remember his notes on Karra ‘Grass’ Meadow.
What was she, really?
As a line of people went, she fit on the line by a toe. She wasn’t on either end nor in the middle, neither bombastic nor silent enough to warrant a memory from those passing the line by. But a line was really only one dimension. Maybe if more had been drawn, a perpendicular there and a diagonal here, all to map down the complexities beyond a single dimension, those passing by might’ve seen the dreams that took up both ends and the middle. The bombastic hopes and the silent loneliness. Maybe they would’ve warranted that memory for her.
But most people only saw the line.
“I suppose… she’s quite normal, from afar. Up close, she’s a bit dreamy. And when you talk to her… maybe you’ll realize she just has a lot of hopes, and thus a lot of dreams, and that’s all fine. She’s all fine, really. There’s not much to worry about.”
“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with her?”
“Well, she could use a little more self-confidence, a little less insecurity… but some girls are like that, Mrs. Junni.”
She paused for a little bit, picking on the nail she was halfway through.
“Is… is your Sameil a confident young man?”
Bendeit snorted, “You should see him when he asks for sweets. Never a bolder lad.”
“Maybe… maybe… had her father not died… she would’ve been bolder. Maybe…”
He stopped leaning back, for he almost lost his balance and fell over, “Her father died?”
She didn’t meet his eyes, “Yes. Laird ‘Poppy’ Meadow. Ever since she was a girl.”
“My… my deepest condolences, Mrs. Junni. I… I do not know what to say.”
“You do not need to say anything. Just be quiet.”
So they were. He caught himself fidgeting for the first time in a while, and he locked his hands behind his back so they wouldn't twiddle in the silence. Junni’s face was unreadable. She would’ve made an excellent poker player if she did play.
“Maybe… if he hadn’t left – left this life, she would be happy. She would’ve had more friends.”
Bendeit sighed, “There’s no point indulging in what if’s, Mrs. Junni-”
“I told you, be quiet. Let me put it all out first,” and she breathed a couple of times, “Maybe… maybe she’s all dreamy because I was never good enough. Maybe…”
“Mrs. Junni… you can never blame yourself for these kinds of things. They happen. You just have to do the best with what the world leaves you with.”
Her voice rose, “And?! I’ve failed, haven’t I? I need some… some other man to come in and show her some discipline! How d’you think it makes me feel?”
Oh. Oh. That was why she was so rude when she first spoke. Between each tear he could see it in her eyes, feel the mana prickling on his skin, and they both told him the same thing.
This woman is a hot mess.
“I am sorry. But I’ll give you just that, because I didn’t know her father had died until now, and I did it all out of an intention to make her… a bit more confident. But if you don’t want me to, I will of course, cease.”
She straightened up.
“You’ll do no such thing. I haven’t seen her smiling so long in ages. But… but, ugh, it’s all so confusing. Maybe I’m just a little scared she’ll drift away, is my point. How have we drifted on a tangent so far – anyways, back to my point that was lost in all the waffle. I’m scared she’ll grow up. But I want her to. I want her to fly away, even if it takes her away from me. Does that make sense?”
“Of course it does.” He took a chance, and crossed over to next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “We’re all a bit scared the moment our baby birds fly out of our nests. But we know they deserve to see the sky and fly in the wind. They deserves nests of their own. And we’ve given them the strongest wings, then every other little thing to get them flying. But it’s up to them. All we can do is sing birdsong to those just afloat, and let the music soar with them.”
“So… do you think I’ve given her all I can?”
“Without a doubt. I’ve never seen a more belligerent bovine, I’ll give you that… but I suppose all parents go a bit crazy over their children.”
“Oh, Laarsh… how true. I think I’ve lost my head when it comes to her. Everything up there is just running on instinct and one name.”
He laughed, and she did too. Just a little.
“I’ll have to admit… I’m a bit of the same, even if it’s hard for me to say. And… would you look at that, the sun’s about to set. What a long conversation we’ve had. Do you feel a bit better?”
She rubbed her eyes and whatever came out was stuck through her tears. Before he could respond, she dashed for the door and slammed it behind her.
He stood there for the rest of sunset, staring far to the city, where his children were.
Deity.
Women really are everything they don’t say on the tin, huh?
----------------------------------------
Lepius
“So, no injuries at all, Karra?”
She shook her head and bounced off the cot, “Not at all. But… what did you think of my mother, Lepius? Why d’you think she was crying?”
Rosemary glanced over, “I don’t think Lepius knows, my dear. I don’t think he’s had a conversation with her.”
“Aw.”
They were gathered around the cot in his room. He had already stabilized most of the patients, so with a not-so-little amount of cajoling, Rosemary had managed the impossible: dragging him away from his patients. She was still keeping an eye on him, though, and for good reason. Even now, his eyes would sometimes wander to the door, and he would have to force his legs down, lest they leap up and send him downstairs.
“Well… Eldertrees, Karra, we haven’t had a chance to talk since… two days ago, huh?”
Karra nodded and stretched her arms, before falling atop Rosemary, who let out an oof. Lepius leaned back against the wall, hands behind his head, legs stretched out, and Rosemary gave him a grin despite the bovine crushing her flat. He grinned, too.
They began to talk.