Ryan shot up the moment his father stepped through the waiting room door. It was almost entirely dark out the windows now, this early into the winter afternoon. The hospital smelled faintly of disinfectant, healing potions, and herbal tea in the distance.
“Ryan, a nurse told me you were here—” he started. He looked so excited, happy, but also tired.
Why tired?
“Am I late?” Ryan interrupted.
His dad paused. “Late?”
“For the baby? Is it here already?”
“She,” his dad corrected him. Ryan needed a moment to catch on. “One of the nurses let it slip. It’s not too bad. We just know a few hours early. ‘Figure it’ll give us something to talk about.”
He was smiling.
“Is she …” She. Ryan was going to have a little sister. Was that good? Bad? Had he been hoping for one over the other? He didn’t know. He doubted it. “Is she okay? Can I see her?”
“Ryan. She isn’t here yet,” his dad said, laughing to himself. It sounded hearty, despite the worry lines on his face. “You got here earlier than I thought you would be. Did you run?”
“Yeah, we did. The message said it was urgent?”
“Yeah, urgent. We wanted to let you know, just in case. But not urgent-urgent.”
Urgent-urgent?
“And who’s this ‘we’?”
“Uh …” Ryan pointed down the hallway at where Micah was slowly shuffling toward them with a steaming cup in his hands. He was blowing on it and careful not to spill. The herbal tea. When his dad looked, he said, “I brought Micah.”
He would have brought everyone else he knew if he had thought he had more time, but she wasn’t even here yet?
“Of course, you did.” It almost sounded like he’d sighed. “Is that tea?”
“He sneezed.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“The nurse said she could help? Apparently, they have Skills to prevent catching colds.”
“Oh?” His dad looked confused, but nodded anyway. “Your mom is currently having a check-up but you can probably say hi to her afterward. It will be a few more hours until they, er, start.”
“Hours? Why hours?”
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Just … because, bud. It takes that long. Labour will definitely take a few more hours after that, too. You can never know. I just hope it won’t take days.”
“Days?!” He was wary of some kind of prank or joke, but his father looked sincere. Giving birth could actually take days? He’d thought the baby would already be here when he got here; that he would arrive late. “But … I wanted to say hi.”
His dad grinned. “Hi? To whom?”
“My … sister?”
For some reason, he must have found that incredibly funny. He laughed.
Ryan just felt lost. He had no idea what to do or how to act. He wished there had been school lessons on this or some kind of manual. “Is there anything I can do until then?” he asked. “Anything to help?” He looked around and frowned. “Are we even allowed to wait in here for so long?”
The waiting room wasn’t so big. Maybe large enough for twenty people. A woman sat with her hands over her purse in her lap and looked amused, glancing over at them every now and then. There had been an elderly couple a moment ago, but they’d been called on and left. They’d also passed by a mom and their teenage kid when coming in. It seemed like a slow day.
Micah got to them.
“Ryan, you have school tomorrow,” his dad insisted.
“But I want to stay.”
Even if he had to wait in this room for hours on end, Ryan wanted to be there as soon as possible. He was part of this family, too, even if they were starting over with a new kid in a new place. He didn’t want to be left behind.
His dad looked at him for a long moment before he gave in. “Of course, you do. Alright, then. Hi, Micah.”
“Hi, David. Uhm, am I allowed to congratulate you already?” He awkwardly stood next to the door with his cup of tea.
“Save it for tomorrow. Or the day after. Unless you’re going to tell me you also want to stay?”
Micah glanced at Ryan. He must have heard enough of the conversation to have an idea of what was going on. Ryan wondered what he thought of this, if he had more of an idea of what to do. If so, he hadn’t said anything. When his nose had started running, they had both panicked.
“I’ll stay a little while?” he asked, still glancing at Ryan. “In case there is anything you need?”
“Thanks, kid. Actually, there is something the both of you can do. You could grab me some supplies from home.”
Micah nodded and quickly took a careful sip of his tea. Obviously, he jerked back from the heat. Ryan could have sworn he saw the air shift for a second, then. Was he cooling it down? Hopefully not by diluting it with cold water.
“Supplies?” he asked.
“Yeah. Weirdly enough, we’re less prepared than we were when you were born. I was running around like a headless chicken back then, so I had half the house packed and ready for the big day beforehand. You have no idea how many books I got scammed into buying about the topic.”
“Huh?”
“But your mom is probably only going to come home late tomorrow or the day after,” he went on, “so we might need some things. Better to have them and not need them and all that, right? Here, let’s see if I can ask to borrow some paper so I can make a list. Apparently, all the clothes I grabbed are horrible.”
He headed toward the front desk.
“And I can see her afterward?” Ryan asked.
“Of course.”
“Knock-knock? Are you decent?” his dad asked. “You better be decent. We’re coming in.”
“I’m decent, you prude!” There was a nervous energy in her voice, but it sounded like she was smiling. They stepped through the door and she immediately switched tones as if talking to a small child. “Oh, hi, Ryan. You got here quickly.” She sounded vaguely out of breath.
“That’s what I said.”
He’d been home and back again and he was still early? Did his parents not know the meaning of the word “urgent”?
His mom sat on a hospital bed, surprisingly in her normal clothes. Ryan had thought he’d find her in a hospital gown or something. If his dad had looked a little worried and tired, she looked visibly nervous and exhausted already. She had a thin sheen of sweat covering her face.
“Are you getting up? Do you need something?” his dad asked. He immediately moved to her side.
“No, no. I just needed to move. Oh, boy. Hopefully, this will be an easy one. Why did I let you talk me into this again?”
“You talked me into it.”
“No. Nope. I do not remember that.”
“I, uh … brought you some clothes?” Ryan interrupted as he shuffled forward and put the bag on her bed.
“Oh, thank you, Ryan. That’s so kind of you.”
“You’re welcome?”
“He says he wants to stay.”
She glanced at her husband and her eyes went wide with horror. “In here?! No. Absolutely not.”
His dad laughed. “No, outside. He wants to stay in the waiting room for however long it takes. It’s practically on the other side of the building. Relax.” He bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
“Oh.” She did seem to relax. She looked over and brushed a hand through Ryan’s hair to cup his face. She felt so warm. Was that normal? “Your hair has gotten longer. Of course, you want to stay. You sister will be glad to have such a doting older brother.”
I wonder about that.
“Thank you for coming, Ryan. Now, tell me something else. Anything else to distract me from the … just to distract me.” She smiled. “How’s school? How are your grades? Have you made any friends yet? Hey, maybe your sister will be listening, too?”
They sat and chatted about school and anything they could find. Ryan suspected the topic didn’t really matter. His mom was taking deep breaths. His dad looked ready to jump up at a moment’s notice. They both glanced at the door every now and then as if waiting for the moment the nurse would arrive.
They acted properly proud when Ryan told them about his grades, despite their distraction. His mom even leaned down to hold her belly and whisper, “Hear, that? You got big footsteps to follow.” His dad said something about early expectations and she joked, “No, of course not. We’ll love her no matter what.”
Ryan wondered if that extended to him. “Does that mean I can flunk an exam?” he joked.
His mom gave him a look. “No.”
“Oh. Alright …”
“I mean, not on purpose.”
It had sounded like an exaggeration anyway, something parents just said until their kids actually did something wrong and couldn’t be loved anymore. But Ryan didn’t want to think about that today.
They asked about other things and he caught them up with school life and important dates. Exams had been early in December and the results had been hung out a few days ago. They might have to go through another appraisal session and interview for the Tower exam next week, if there were unknowns. The deadline for the preparations was the end of December, though many teams had already signed up and been processed. Theirs hadn’t. They hadn’t even fully met before. Then everyone would get their full assessments a week and a half before the exam and have to go into the Tower on the penultimate week before New Year’s.
Ryan tentatively asked them a few questions himself, out of curiosity, but was worried he would ask the wrong thing and get an unfiltered response. His parents seemed off today. They might give far too much information. Ryan still remembered the last “talk” his dad had sat him through.
He didn’t want to sit through another.
Mostly, they just assured him everything was fine and explained a little bit about what was happening.
Eventually, a nurse kicked him out. Well, she kindly bid him leave the room. They had time to say goodbye, but it still felt like he was being kicked out. His mom needed to get changed after a final check-up. Unless there were any last minute surprises, the midwife would be with them shortly.
Nobody wanted last minute surprises
Every now and then while Ryan had been in the room, his mother had winced and made a strained expression, but always waved for them to keep on talking with a confident smile. For a brief second when he stepped through the door, though, he glimpsed her bend over in pain.
His dad took her hand and rubbed her back.
He had to close the door.
Micah didn’t say anything when Ryan wandered back into the waiting room. He stared at the wall over the doorframe for a while, just thinking about nothing. Eventually, his friend slowly pulled him out of his shell with small-talk about the most mundane things, like the weather and hoping for snow. As, and Ryan quoted, “We can’t have a proper snowball match with what we’ve had until now.”
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They moved on to the test coming up and his alchemy, which he could practice again. Slowly, Micah slipped in some questions about his mom and Ryan just answered with, “She’s fine.”
He hoped.
After an hour, Micah had to leave, too. It was truly dark now. He had curfew. Ryan had completely forgotten. They said goodbye and he assured him he’d tell the teachers Ryan had a good reason for skipping class if he didn’t show up tomorrow.
Then Ryan was on his own. Some of the nurses checked on him, especially when there was a shift change. The new nurses didn’t know why he was sitting in the waiting room for hours on end. They offered some tea and snacks. He could go to a place nearby for more food. His dad also dropped in just to say everything was alright and that he’d see him when it was over.
An emergency case came in and went, but nobody joined him in the waiting room for whoever it was.
He had some books in his backpack to read but he couldn’t really bring himself to study. He also had an excursion report that was written a little more dramatically for publication, like a book—Saga had recommended it to him—but he couldn’t focus on the story.
He waited around until the hospital got a little darker. When he was tired, he found a blanket at the nurse’s desk to huddle up in. Even if he had no problem with being cold, Ryan still liked to have something to cover his shoulders.
He woke up in the middle of the night when he heard his mother scream. She sounded far-away, which had to have been a dream because Ryan couldn’t hear that far. It had to have been a nightmare. He sat up in his chair, rubbed his eyes, and stared at nothing for a while as he listened. He couldn’t hear a thing aside from nurses silently tapping around. The clinic was deathly silent. He was reluctant to move and kept on staring until he fell asleep again.
He remembered another time he had heard really, really far. How did Skills even work?
An unfamiliar nurse shook him awake. Another shift change? Ryan didn’t know what time it was.
“Your dad sent me to get you. Are you alright?”
“Mhm.” He stumbled up and waddled toward the hallway that would lead to their room. Rubbing his eyes on the way, he realized what he was walking toward and was suddenly wide awake. His brushed his hands over his face and through his hair, wondering if this was alright if he just showed up like this.
He turned around the nurse shooed him forward. She seemed a little surprised that he had just walked off like that. Apparently, his mom was in another room than before. He wouldn’t have known where to go.
The door was an inch open. Ryan suppressed a yawn and fixed his clothes before he pushed it the rest of the way and stepped inside. If the hospital had smelled a little of healing potion and chemicals before, he smelled them much clearer now. And other things besides. Pungent smells.
He pushed them out of his mind.
His mom held a tiny bundle of pink in a blanket. His dad sat halfway on the bed next to her and was peering in. They both looked dead-tired, but unwavering. They needed a moment to notice him standing there.
“Ryan,” his dad said.
His mom slowly looked up, like she was reluctant to pull her eyes away. “There you are. Come meet your sister.”
He felt like he was five years old again and trying to get a glimpse at what his parents were doing on the counter, or the table, or just what they had in their hands. Everyone was a giant and he was tiny. Ryan stood next to the bed and pushed up on his toes to peer into the bundle.
She was pink. So very pink. And she had spots in places that looked like the softest of bruises and veins. Her eyes were closed, but she didn’t look asleep. He didn’t know why he thought that.
“Is she alright? I mean, is she healthy?”
“Yes, she’s very healthy.”
“She looks like she has a fever. Or sunburn.” She had a bunch of wrinkles already, too.
“All babies do,” his dad said.
“Is she asleep?”
“No, just very tired.”
“Like you?”
“Yes.”
Ryan leaned a little closer. He felt the ridiculous urge to touch her, maybe shake her hand. Of course, she couldn’t do that yet. Then he remembered: “Hi, I’m Ryan.”
The baby, obviously, didn’t say anything.
“I’m your big brother. What’s your name?”
After a moment, he looked up.
His mom looked to his dad and answered, “Hannah.”
----------------------------------------
His mom came home two days later and they left school as soon as the bell rung to help. They didn’t run this time. Even Ryan was worried about getting sick. They carried the bag full of clothes and a bag of baby supplies for his parents and opened the door. His dad helped his mom. She held his sister.
It was surprisingly cold in the house and his father let out a silent curse with a pained expression on his face.
“I forgot.”
“I told you, you should have spent more time at home,” his mom said. “Then you would have noticed.”
“Yeah, but how I can spend time away from you?” he said. His voice sounded so disgustingly sweet, it dripped. To Ryan, he added, “Son, can you get the lights? Oh, and start the fireplace in the kitchen to get some warmth in here. Micah, can you go around and check if all the windows are closed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No, don’t leave,” his mom complained. She reached out with one hand, but didn’t move the arm beneath away from his sister. With her fingers, she tugged on his sleeve a little. “You’re warm.”
Ryan couldn’t help but smile. He practically rushed back after stacking the logs and switching on the lights. He waved his hand at the fireplace in the corner of their kitchen and lit it.
He didn’t even think about it. And if someone had asked him later what he had done, how he had moved his mana, which spellscript he had used, he wouldn’t have known. But his magic traveled the distance and the kindling caught.
Ryan heard.
[Skill — Create Fire obtained!]
He froze mid-step with a new smile on his face and almost started laughing, but shook his head and pushed the thought aside. Months of practicing practically a dozen different spellscripts and trying to work them into his fighting style and he got it lighting a fire to make the house warm.
Of course.
It was good news, but today wasn’t about him. He could tell everyone some other time.
His parents headed into their bedroom. They didn’t have a living room and wanted comfort. Ryan hadn’t been inside there often, ever since he had gotten older. It was mostly just one large bed and their wardrobes.
He was dragged down to sit next to his mom and stayed close until the fireplace got going. There was a small hole near the floor that led through the wall and to it to help the heat spread.
Micah looked even more awkward in the doorway. He had little to do aside from carrying his one thing and now looked out of place. “So, uhm … why did you name her Hannah?” he asked while his dad bustled around to get blankets and do some last minute clean-up. He had been home to do more of it yesterday, but apparently hadn’t stayed very long.
“After my aunt,” his mom said.
Ryan blinked. “Aunt?”
“Yes, Aunt Hannah? Your great-aunt. Oh, I doubt you remember her. I had an aunt named Hannah. She helped up move into our first apartment, you know? Buy furniture, decorate, teach this one how to go shopping.”
She jerked a thumb at her husband.
Ryan frowned. He thought his mom’s family hated his dad?
Oh.
So that was why Hannah. He wanted to ask what happened to her, but his mom had said “had” and he could imagine the rest. It felt wrong that he couldn’t remember the woman his sister was named after. And it was still weird that a practical stranger had to ask so Ryan could find things out about his family. Although, Micah was no stranger.
He was giving Ryan looks, though.
Right. They had a plan.
“Dad, can you take over?” Ryan asked.
“Sure thing. Why? Do you have somewhere to be?” He wrapped a blanket around his mom and got to taking off her shoes.
Ryan could have done that. He hadn’t thought of it.
“Kind of? We’ll be right back,” he said.
They headed out to the bathhouse, where they had stashed their present after it had been finished ages ago. It took Prisha to explain to Ryan you couldn’t just invite everyone you knew to see a baby after it was born. The parents had to decide when they were ready to show it off. Oops? That still hadn’t stopped him from spreading the news yesterday to get people ready.
Ryan Payne had a little sister.
He thanked Prisha for the advice and for being allowed to use their storage these last few weeks. Micah helped him carry the cumbersome object out, a storage cloth draped over to protect from the weather and his parents’ prying eyes. Another sack lay on top of it with added weight.
They set it up in a corner of their bedroom—it barely fit—and Ryan pulled the cloth off in one go.
“Tadaa!”
“A rocking chair,” his mom said.
He nodded.
“For me?”
He nodded again, eagerly.
“It’s … nice. It really is. And it looks fancy. But … I’m not that old yet, Ryan. Why a rocking chair?”
Oh. Was a rocking chair something you only got old people? Ryan hadn’t known. “It’s made of salamander chest wood?” he asked. “Or lined with it anyway. Here, come feel. It’s supposed to be … Well, not warm, but not cold either. It’s supposed to be comfortable.”
He pushed down [Hot Skin] as much as he could and tried himself. It did actually feel warm in comparison to the cold weather. Hopefully, it wouldn’t feel the same in the summer. The [Carpenter] he’d commissioned had assured him a thinner layer would make it feel just right. Lots of people ordered furniture like this. Well, normally they ordered floorboards to keep their feet warm, because warm feet made your entire body warm, but it was the same concept.
His mom slowly forced herself up again. She needed a full minute before she decided to slowly hand the baby over to his dad. Then she sat in the chair. The wood was also supposed to be comfortable, but she put a seat pillow and blanket over it anyway. There wasn’t enough space to actually rock it. His dad handed her the baby back when she had settled.
She nodded. “You’re right, it is warm.”
“And I got this,” Ryan said, holding up the bag. He handed that one to his dad for him to look inside.
“More wood?”
“A bed base,” Ryan said. “It’s also salamander wood. I used the cradle you already have for measurements, upstairs, but you might have to make some adjustments for the height if you keep it. So the baby— I mean, so Hannah can’t climb out.”
It would take some getting used to that.
“You can put the mattress on it in the winter and it should be warm quicker. It might help her sleep.”
His parents seemed surprised, but also confused for some reason. Had it been a bad gift? His dad looked from the bag to the armchair and Ryan could see him thinking something over in his head. Then he said to him, “Ryan, this must have cost a fortune. How expensive was this?”
Oh. That.
Very. Very expensive. Even with the cost being cut down because he had supplied most of the wood. Or rather, Micah had.
He didn’t tell them any of that.
“But it’s warm,” he said instead. “Like me. So even if you guys move far away and I can’t be there, it’s like I can still hug you.”
The moment he said it, he realized how stupid it must sound coming from his mouth. How old was he? Five?
He was about to say something else—anything else—but then his dad stepped over and pulled him into a hug. “It’s great,” he said. “And you can still hug us now, so you should do it more often. We’ll only be leaving in the spring, son.”
“Me, too!” his mom complained.
They stepped over to hug her as well.
They chatted for a little bit about the move and if it would really be alright to take the rocking chair with them. His parents assured him it was fine. They would figure something out. They said he had to visit whenever he had the chance, so they wouldn’t have to wear it out too much.
“I’d like that.”
Hannah spoke up, and Ryan had a minor panic attack because she was crying. He knew babies could be loud, but it was still surprising. It almost hurt. Was something wrong? His parents wanted some privacy then, he assumed for baby stuff, so he stepped out. He only realized then that Micah wasn’t around. He found the guy in the kitchen, putting a kettle on.
Oh, that was a good idea.
He heard a sniff, frowned, and stepped around to get a look at his face.
“Are you … crying?”
“No,” he said. He wasn’t, but his eyes looked watery and red. He might have, had Ryan not interrupted. “You’re crying. Idiot.” He rubbed his eyes and nose and pulled away a string of snot.
Ryan got him a napkin.
“Your sister is, like, ridiculously cute,” he said while filling up the cups. After washing his hands again.
“I know.”
“She must have gotten all the good genes.”
“Screw you.” Ryan smiled.
“It’s a shame your parents have to move away.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a shame alchemicals are bad for kids.”
“Huh?”
“It’s all I’m good at.” He shrugged. “I could have spoiled her. But now I have to wait thirteen years.”
“Oh.” Ryan chuckled. They stood around while they waited for the tea to steep. Thirteen years. He would have to wait years until she could even speak or walk, until she understood who he was. That was so far away. He frowned at something. “Hey, so why don’t you spoil me with alchemicals?”
Micah put the cups on a tray and gave him a smile. “Guess I don’t like you as much.”
They knocked and waited a long while before they went back inside, just to be safe, and brought his parents some tea. Micah had even remembered which types they preferred. His mom still looked tired. She had for the last few months. Ryan had heard stories that it would only get worse and then go on for a few more years until they got something resembling rest again.
That made him wonder about something. “Was I a difficult child?”
“As a baby?” his mom asked. “No. But as a toddler? Definitely.”
“Really?”
“You always wanted to do things,” his dad complained. He sighed and sounded like he was reliving the memory. “We would just want to rest and you would practically be running up the walls.”
“Literally, now,” Micah said.
“Huh?”
“I’ve been practicing my [Enhanced Traction] and agility,” Ryan explained. “I can run up walls a little bit.”
His dad looked to his mom and said in a low voice, “It was an omen.”
She chuckled.
“It didn’t help that we had such a small apartment,” she went on. “Even smaller than here. It’s was tiny. Here’s hoping your sister will be just as quiet as you. But if she’s rowdy as a toddler, well, she’ll have more space to run around in Cairn. There are parks and hiking trails and open fields all around.”
Ryan didn’t really want to think about them moving away, though. “So it depends on the baby?” he asked. “How difficult it is?”
His mom gave him a look. “All babies are difficult, Ryan. You’re raising a new life. We’re going to lose a lot of sleep soon.” She glanced at her husband and he nodded gravely. It was like they were tired just thinking of it. “Silver edge of the silver lining, though, I finally leveled again. It has been almost a year since my last time. I almost forgot what it was like.”
“Oh, yeah,” his dad as if he had just remembered, too.
They smiled at each other as if they were about to kiss.
“You leveled?” Micah interrupted. “In which Class?”
“We had a baby, Micah,” his dad said and gave him a look. “In which Class do you think we leveled?”
Silently, he said, Ohh.
The adult Class, Ryan thought. Taboo.
“Gosh, I hope you didn’t dance around things so much when you gave him the talk,” his mom said with a nudge. Her hands were full, so she couldn’t really cuff his shoulder anymore. He rolled his eyes and might have blushed a little. She turned to Micah and said, “We leveled in [Lover], dear. Not that is matters, really. We know we love each other. That and our babies are all we need.”
She bent down to snuggle closer to Hannah, who was fumbling around a little in her blanket wrap.
Micah turned to Ryan. “Babies.”
“Shut up.”
“Yeah,” his dad said, “you’re still our widdle-little baby, Ryan.” He bent forward to pinch his cheek.
Ryan fled.