Of all the things Josei expected to find in her abandoned bedroom… a toddler was not one of those things. He was a scrawny thing- oh he still had chubby cheeks, fat little hands, and all the extra padding a child ought to have, but there was also something wiry about him. As if he was a coil of spring ready to bounce around. A small bundle of joy.
He had a tuft of black hair on his head, just that first patch of peachy fuzz that would eventually figure out how to be hair. His eyes were dark, brown at a glance, a deep red when the light of the candle reached them fully. Not like blood, not at all, more like the golden hue of old amber, or the silken depth of honeyed wine. There was a warmth to them that danced with the flickering light.
He had teeth, or a first attempt at them. Little nubs of white that he eagerly showed off with the most adorable of frowns. Open mouthed, lips forming a silent question. ‘Who the hell are you? Where am I? Why is it so dark?’
After a long moment of staring- Josei could hardly believe her eyes, the child began to cry. The first syllable of a pitiful wail had barely left his lips before Josei began to panic.
She rushed back into the main room, grabbed a quilt, then ran back inside her bedroom to scoop up the little darling, swaddling him in the warm fabric to ward off the cold. She let him lean on her shoulder and rocked him softly, patting his back while making soothing sounds she hoped would calm the crying away. The cradle seemed to stare back at her as she frowned at it, child hiccuping in her arms.
She’d had to leave the candle in the main room while grabbing the quilt, but the light from it still filtered in through the doorway. She fetched it again while holding the child, fumbling a bit to free one hand. The toddler found her red hair streaked with grey and took a firm grip on it with his tiny hands. That seemed to sooth his upset temper.
Candle in hand, Josei went back to inspect the cradle. She hadn’t looked upon it since… well since the day she closed her bedroom door, hating the message it signified. Now? She wasn’t so sure anymore. What did it mean?
It was a crooked thing, like the elf that had given it to her. Carved from some grey type of wood, dry and unpleasant. It wasn’t made of maple because she’d refused that trade. When she leaned closer she saw small sets of bite marks on it, as if a dog had disapproved of the sorry piece of furniture and decided that a bit of chewing would spruce it up. The toddler made a cooing sound.
Bewildered, confused, and no small part bemused, Josei went back into the main room. She sat down in her armchair, one hand carefully holding the back of the child’s head so he wouldn’t fall, and asked aloud, “What am I supposed to do with you?”
No one answered her.
Confusion or not, they both needed breakfast. And sleep. Sleep first, then breakfast. It was a fitful rest she got, but by the time morning peeked through the gaps in her shutters, Josei couldn’t help but smile. The child still rested in her arms, dozing with faint wheezes of sound, a muted snore.
“Did Mother Wolf really leave you with me? Surely she must have seen that the cradle was empty, no?” The child murmured in his sleep, unaware of Josei’s query. She stroked his hair gently, smiling at the tiny face.
“Maybe she didn’t care. It must have been a busy night for Mother Wolf. Too much in a rush to look twice? Tsk tsk, we say to that.” She gently touched the toddler’s nose and smiled at the way his face scrunched up.
Her belly reminded her of the time with an urgent growl. The child’s face scrunched up further, a precursor to tears if she ever saw one.
“Hush hush now. Are you hungry? I was about ready to go find a bit to eat myself…” Josei’s cheerful voice trailed off. Did she have any food a little child like this could eat? Fruit bread was all good and well but… A peek into the child’s mouth told her that those teeth wouldn’t do him much good when it came to chewing, at least not yet. “Perhaps something easier than tough bread and old cheese…”
Josei looked around her cozy home. She had all the things one might need to treat illness, but to care for a child? She was less prepared for that. A thoughtful hum escaped her. “I think it’s about time I headed to the cookery.”
That said, it still took Josei a fair bit of time to prepare for the trip. It wasn’t far, in fact, the cookery stood nearly vertically above Josei’s humble abode, built on a higher level just a few stairs up. Though anyone in Redlog that used the expression ‘just a few stairs’ was to be shown little trust, because there was no such thing as an easy set of stairs in Redlog.
By the time Josei made it up the last set, face red from the effort and toddler cooing in a make-shift sling, she was debating for the upteempth time if she should move away to flatter lands. Living on a mountain sure gave you strong legs.
The pleasant smell of fresh bread, oatmeal, and all sorts of fruits quickly drew the medicine maker’s mind to more pleasant pastures. The public cookery was a cheery place in the morning because everyone liked a good meal. The cooks, or chefs if you wanted to sound fancy, woke even before dawn to prepare for their busy day.
Taxes paid their work and ensured the many ovens never stopped burning, supplying the city with much needed nutrition so they could go about their busy day. For a few coppers you could have a fresh loaf of bread, something hot like seared chicken and potatoes, and a jug of tea, juice, or cheap brew.
It was also the place where most refilled their water barrels, stocked up on winter feed, and traded the produce of the day if the market plaza was too crowded. The stables, wisely located behind the school rather than next to the kitchen, would happily help anyone ferry goods home on a wagon for a few coppers. Wagons drawn by people or goats because horses didn’t tend to like steep stairs.
Josei had to stop on her way across the street to let a train of children and their minders past, all on their way away from the giant school building. Probably on some adventure down to the farms, or to see the merchants crowding the market square.
Not all children went to school, far from it. Most were the heirs of nobles or scholars, or lucky ones whose families had scraped together enough coin to afford them the vaunted education. You would become something fine if you went there, but it would be a harder trade than what you’d get through an apprenticeship.
Josei herself had been apprenticed to an old medicine maker rather than go to the fancy school. She’d wondered why as a child, especially when the noble folks bragged about their many books and wise teachers.
“You’d go there to become a merchant Josei,” Her mother had said to her, “to travel and stay far from home, or to curry favor with the rich ones. If you’d like to slave over books and ledgers all your life you might go there too. The noble families have good use for secretaries and the like, but there’s no real glory in such a trade.”
“Like the Harpy?” She had asked, to which her mother quickly hushed her.
“Don’t call her that, Josei-love.”
“But everyone calls her that. The Secretary or the Harpy.”
Her mother had frowned darkly at the public nickname of the watch captain. Josei hadn’t understood why at the time, until her mother explained. “That’s what they used to call her when she was an outlaw. She’s clawed her way up from that life now and it is unkind to remind her of an unpleasant past.”
Little Josei’s face had scrunched up as she’d tried to wrap her head around the fact. Nowadays she had the knowledge to fill in the gaps. The watch captain, Robina Ek, had a bloody past. The work of a secretary may pay well, but it was a thinly veiled insult by those that held the noble folk in disdain. A lapdog of the blue bloods, secretary of the law.
Complicated things way above what Josei cared for. Sometimes it seemed like the people living at the Peak were constantly scrambling for new things to be angry about. Bickering and nitpicking was about all the entertainment they could find out here in the countryside.
Better to make do with easier things. There were so many simpler ways to find pleasure in Redlog, such as visiting the cookery. Or the Red Lights District if you were of a certain desire… not that Josei ever went- or well, in her spare time that was. She knew plenty of nice people from that part of the city, most through her profession, and it was far from the scary, sinful place people described it as.
She suspected most of those rumors came from noble mouths, or from well meaning adults trying to keep the children away from it. Not that the people there were unpleasant, far from it actually! But it was a hot spot for travelers and those could get unpredictable, especially when drunk and looking for trouble.
It was also a fact that to talk about one’s trade was a good way to advertise, and certain sights there were simply not meant for younger eyes. Not because the sights themselves were very scary- everyone had butts and what not, but it opened up conversations that parents would rather not have with their kids if they could help it. The age old question of where babies came from was bad enough without involving the topic of leather.
Josei was not on the hunt for late night fun now, but for food. The cookery had pies of both the fruity and meaty variety on display in the open windows. Despite the autumn chill, the cookery ovens provided enough heat to keep the building hot as a sauna, so open windows it was. It also helped to attract attention as the smell of fresh food was well enjoyed by many.
A familiar face greeted Josei as she entered the cookery. Katja Havre was a cheery young lass of fiery orange hair. In the right light the wavy curls appeared almost striped with brow, like the fur of a tabby cat. She had a smile to match, wide and dimpled.
“Good morning to yous, miss Josei- and who’s this little dear?” Her brown eyes found the toddler almost at once. Josei felt her cheeks heat up as Katja shot her a curious look.
“A-” Josei frowned, uncertain what to say. It wasn’t wise to share when one was watching a ward of Mother Wolf, especially not on a street so close to the Hunter’s Guild. Katja seemed to catch the worry in Josei’s eyes, and perhaps she made an assumption that helped.
“Relative of yours? How nice of yous to watch ‘im. I figure you’ll do with a hot meal for the both of yous then.” Like a whirlwind of cheer, Katja went off to root through the kitchen. Josei felt slightly lost but the relief made her relax.
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She found herself a seat in the dining hall, feet aching something fierce after her walk here. The toddler blinked up at her innocently, as if trying to deny that the extra weight had taken its toll on her. Josei just smiled and patted his head, earning herself a pleased grunt from the wise little scamp.
Katja found her again within short, now carrying a tray of food. A hot loaf of bread with bits of the season’s fruit baked into it, some apple juice, a ham sandwich, a bag that smelled like the rest of the smoked ham, and a jar of what looked like… mashed apples? The cook helpfully pointed it out after setting the tray down on the table.
“Your usual fare, plus a more kid friendly meal for the little ‘un.”
“You’ll spoil me rotten, Katja,” Josei replied with a smile. The cook merely batted a hand and scoffed in a happy tone.
“Nonsense. ‘s the least I can do for keeping us lot healthy and spry. Jar should last you a day or two. Best to get it fresh while yous can. I hear the apple orchards’ ‘ad a good season this year.”
“That so? I’ll have to bring a basket of apples back home with me then.”
“Roger that. I’ll get it sorted for yous before y’leave.”
“Thank you, Katja.”
Smiles were exchanged, even the toddler gave one. He extended a tiny hand towards Katja’s orange hair, opening and closing his fist at it. The cook paused to chuckle, then carefully leant closer to let him inspect her hair. He did so gently, but Josei grabbed his hand before he could put a lock in his mouth. Katja just grinned.
“Does he have a name, this little ‘un?”
Josei paused at the question, again caught off guard. The cook saw the conflicted look and her expression softened. She turned her attention back to the child.
“‘erhaps he’ll tell yous if we ask him kindly. I hear they do that sometimes.”
Josei hesitated but Katja was busy teasing the child with another strand of hair. The kid waved his small hands for it, trying to grab it before Katja could whisk it out of his reach.
“Have you…” Josei trailed off, uncertain how to continue the question. Katja snatched her intent up without batting an eye. It was almost uncanny how she could guess one’s words at times, even before they left your mouth.
“Few times now, if that’s what y’askin. Me ma had an extra for a day or so with me and me siblings, then me aunt after tha’. Only remember the aunt one o’course. Was like me cousin got a lil twin for a day. Right strange it was. Don’t let them arrows ‘ear bout it tho’.”
The ‘arrows’ were a reference to the Hunter’s Guild, a group of people that didn’t see too kindly on the wild ones, or so rumor said. That they had bad blood with even Mother Wolf shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it still made Josei frown with concern. Katja caught the expression and smiled kindly, a crease between her eyebrows the only hint of worry to betray her cheer.
“Have they made trouble about it before?” Josei asked.
“Aye, ‘eard they wanted to take one in when a blue blood threw a fit. Was some years back from now, but was a big ol spectacle of a mess. Lost her own due to neglect, or so I ‘ear. Them arrows tried to hush it up, but I saw-... ‘eard I mean, that she left the child care to them servants. It ain’t proper.”
Josei frowned at the dark gossip. Katja stole a glance at a passing pair of farmers, there to start their day with a hot meal. She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered.
“But don’t let it spook yous too bad, Josei. I’m sure yous and the little ‘un’s gonna be just fine.”
Katja kept playing with the child while Josei chewed her words over. It was certainly a concern. If the local priesthoods were one end of the stick, the wilds loving sort, then the Hunter’s Guild were the other end. Wary and sometimes right out hostile towards anything not easily explained. Their following were mostly people with bad experiences involving the wild ones. They acted as a second kind of watch in a way. More secretive and mysterious.
“Rot and maggots, I might have joined them myself if things had gone on as they did…” she murmured. The elf’s trick had shook her. Katja gave her a questioning look. Josei deflected by turning to the toddler. She asked him in a cooing tone, “What’s your name, love? Can you say it?”
The toddler eyed her quizzically for a moment, then returned his attention to Katja and her elusive hair. He made a fist for it, trying to reach, but Katja held a strand just outside of his reach. Tilted at the injustice of unreachable hair, the child waved his fist, made a displeased sound, then pointed at her face.
“Mao,” he said. Katja’s eyes grew wide. Not in joy, but Josei missed the odd expression in her own delight.
“Did you say Mao? Is that your name?” Josei shifted the child on her lap so he was facing her instead. The kid blew a raspberry in protest, then latched onto Josei’s hair. Victory achieved, the child, or Mao, twisted so he could wave at Katja. A victory taunt perhaps. “Maooooow,” he babbled.
Katja let out a nervous laugh, but Josei’s beaming smile was infectious. She chuckled as Mao tried to eat Josei’s hair, despite her many attempts to stop him.
“Aw, y’should feed the little lad before he gobbles y’up. Must be starvin if hair’s lookin that tasty to ‘im.”
Josei agreed and Mao clearly did too. The mashed apples had a bit of carrot and other greens mixed in, all carefully mashed for easy eating for one with small teeth. Mao ate it with gusto, babbling happy sounds all the while.
Breakfast went without much issue. Josei left with a basket in either hand, one with the promised apples and the other with food stuff Katja had urged her to take. All at a discount which Josei had tried to deny, but Katja was adamant that she should accept all the help she could, even if Mao’s stay was temporary.
Oh how mistaken they were.
Josei found her little ward to be welcome company the next few days. He was a rather well behaved child, even quiet when he didn’t have something interesting to focus on. He loved food, to explore his surroundings, but never strayed far without Josei being in his line of sight. He couldn’t walk yet but was perfectly happy to crawl around on all fours. He was deceptively quick.
At night Josei would sit him down by the hearth, reading a tale or two from ‘Autumn Wild, a collection of tales’ until he fell asleep.
She worried a bit that work would be a struggle while caring for Mao, but it turned out he enjoyed their little trips down to the Foot. The sling needed some tweaks and adjustments before it fit him perfectly enough, but the child never complained much.
He picked up curious hobbies during his first week at Josei’s home. He liked to point at things and mimick their sound, often to the delight of his fussing minder. He also liked to sniff plants, a habit which had worried Josei to tears the few times he’d gotten into her jars. He rarely tasted anything though, instead he just scrunched up his face in distaste, or babbled until he had her attention so he could show her what he got.
Josei felt that it would have been an apt comparison to call her a bit of a hen mother. She found herself circulating Mao near constantly, always wary of dangers or a change in mood. Fitting for the location perhaps. Redlog had its fair share of local threats, both as small as uneven cobblestone roads, and as major as elves and ornery bears.
She also worried about the day when Mother Wolf would come to reclaim her ward. She woke many restless nights in a cold sweat, fumbling about for a candle so she could check if Mao was still around.
She’d dragged her mattress to the floor so they could share it, because the cradle really wasn’t fit for a child and she worried he would fall if she let him sleep on the bed. A crate blocking the lower half of the door kept him from escaping to explore the rest of the small house while she slept- and kept her constantly complaining about needing to step over it each and every morning.
Katja became a friend to confide in and a much needed source of help in the art of childcare. She too seemed surprised at how Mother Wolf hadn’t returned yet. A month had passed.
“She should be back any day now. Word is the Moon picks her back’up ev’ry time it goes full if she’s met with misfortune. I would prepare to say goodbye soon…”
Those were sad conversations, but Josei had known from the start that Mother Wolf always came back in the end. She’s been trying to prepare herself for it, knowing that once the day came and she woke up alone the revelation would crush her.
The full moon came as anticipated. Josei spent the entire night sitting up next to the sleeping Mao, too worried to rest. She’d tried to make up a speech, a desperate plea for Mother Wolf to let her keep him longer. Perhaps she could mind him again during a future hunt? She wasn’t ready to let go of this little ray of love. Not yet.
A week since the full moon passed, then another one, then a month. Katja grew worried and so did Josei. Had something happened to Mother Wolf? Katja promised to hear around, ask her friends. She confided that she knew some that would probably know. She didn’t share more details than that though. Katja kept her secrets well.
Autumn started to draw toward its end and still Mao stayed. He’d gotten better at his babbling, now being on the cusp of forming words. It had broken Josei’s heart when he first called her ‘mama’, knowing full well that it
wouldn’t last. How cruel it was to know their time together would be over soon.
But Mother Wolf never came.
It was as people started to prepare for the harvest festival that she found out. She had Mao in his sling, hanging off her back while she visited the busy farmers down at the Farmlands, helping them add crowsmoss blooms to their stores and mixing spice blends for the upcoming celebrations.
“Did you hear? The Smiths had a ward of Mother Wolf last week.”
A cluster of people were gossiping to the sides, resting from work with some mulled wine to warm them back up. The last harvest was to be reaped today and in good time that, because the first frost had started appearing in the early mornings. Josei pretended to fiddle with a tricky knot of the crowsmoss garland she was supposed to hang up along a field fence.
“I thought they had twins?” Someone asked.
“Not so! I thought so too, but turns out Mother Wolf slipped her ward into the crib not a week after their son was born! They played along with it of course.” The gossip circle tissled and tazzled.
“The Hunters have been wary lately. Heard they’ve been finding elf tracks near the foot…” Someone else shared. Alarmed murmurs. The conversation topic shifted. Josei found herself hovering with indecision, then threw caution to the wind and approached.
“E-excuse me?” The farmers gave her surprised looks. Josei swallowed and continued on, “Is it true? About Mother Wolf that is. Did she really…?”
Any apprehension the farmers might have had flew to the wind at the promise of sharing some juicy gossip. Josei found herself pulled into the huddle, listening to hushed but excited voices. Mao peered over her shoulder curiously.
“Yes yes! Just last week. Came as a surprise, it did.”
“And the reward?” Another farmer asked.
“Heard they got a golden egg. The blue bloods are seething over it!” A farmer with a scratchy beard confided.
“Really?” A ginger woman scrunched up her nose, frowning doubtfully. “I heard they got a magical pair of shears. The sheep are practically begging to be shorn with it, even the tricksy ones.”
“Sheep shears at the start of winter? She must be hoping to freeze them to death, no no, I heard it was-”
The gossip developed into light bickering, good natured jabs and scoffs. Josei listened for a while then drew back, face clouded by confusion.
So Mother Wolf was fine? Then why hadn’t she come back for Mao? The child in question had no answers, only giggles and gentle pats. He’d adopted the habit after she’d patted him on the head enough times, now patting people back when given the chance. He often had to wave for people to come closer and bend down so he could reach them first.
Perhaps… Josei nearly didn’t dare to hope but… She looked down at her Mao. Her child. Her son. He stared back up at her, red eyes twinkling. He reached a hand up at her and declared in a cutesy voice, “Mama.”
The farmers were alarmed to find Josei breaking down into tears. She was smiling but the tears just wouldn’t stop falling. The only thing she managed to reply when they clustered around her, asking what was wrong, was; “I have a son.”
Mao was here to stay.