Crazy works better for us.
Char mulled Rath’s words over in his head until he fell asleep, and they were at the top of his mind again during the team’s flight home the next day.
He and Rath had a history of being troublemakers, but maybe ‘crazy’ wasn’t the best word for them. ‘Impulsive’ was probably a better representation. If they felt like taking off for a few days, then that’s what they did. Rules and regulations were more like guidelines to them, just as they had been for their father.
Char couldn’t count the number of times their mother had scolded their father when they returned from a spontaneous adventure, usually with mild injuries and wild stories. Their father would flash her his famous smile and sweep her into a kiss, and she’d smile and say something about how she should have known better than to marry a hooligan like him.
Everybody said she was a saint for putting up with him all those years.
It had been too long since they’d visited her, Char thought with a pang of guilt.
They exited the barracks to the city within the hollow mountain. Streets that were busy with people going to and fro spread out before them, the scene lit from above by algae and moss growing on the ceiling, shining light almost as brilliant as natural sunlight down on the hustle and bustle. Flower boxes perched on the window ledges of the stone houses and shops here or there, colorful blooms breaking up the gray backdrop. The residents were colorful, too, with eyes and hair in shades never seen among humans, wearing bold dresses and bright shirts and pants in every color imaginable.
Char and Rath were in the minority with their dull black attire.
“Wonder if she’s baking something?” Rath asked.
“It’s almost lunchtime. She’s probably cooking, not baking.”
“Ah, real food that tastes good! Why is it so hard to find a good cook in the army?”
Char shrugged. “I don’t know. You’d think they could at least hire someone for the barracks. It isn’t like you need military training to cook.”
The streets seemed busier than usual. Char ran through the days in his head, searching for the reason. It was… Friday, wasn’t it? That was it. People were on their lunch breaks, doing whatever shopping they needed for the weekend. The younger crowd was getting their party supplies ready.
Weekends seemed to be one of two things: quiet family affairs or wild parties.
“Hey, Char, Rath, haven’t seen you two around in a while!”
“Coming to the party?”
“You know who’s gonna be there.”
Rath grinned and gave cheerful, short responses to the people who greeted them as they went. A group of giggling girls in front of a dress shop batted their eyelashes at him, and he flashed them a smile, very much like their father’s. One girl practically swooned.
Char chuckled and shook his head. “Do you even know any of those girls?”
Rath shrugged. “I think I’ve seen them around. The one with pink hair seems familiar. Maybe I danced with her at the last party we crashed.”
“Is that all you did with her?”
“Who can say?” Rath gave Char a roguish grin. “It’s been a while since we’ve been to a wild party. What do you say we go out tonight?”
“Kelnor hasn’t given us the night off.”
“Which has never stopped us before. Come on, you need to loosen up. A night on the town is just what you need.”
Char was about to argue the point when a thought hit him. A crazy thought. One that had no business of working.
“What is it?”
A sly grin came to Char’s lips. “Think Srot could talk Kara into coming?”
Rath smirked and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Now you’re thinking crazy. Hey, Misa!”
A girl with long, shimmering silver hair spun in surprise when Rath called her name. Her round golden eyes caught Rath’s, and when he flashed her a smile, a blush colored her pale cheeks. He swaggered up to her and reached out to catch a lock of her hair in his fingers, twirling it around with all the casual confidence that came with knowing he already had her where he wanted her.
“Going to a party tonight?”
She averted her eyes from his and put on a pout, but she didn’t swat his hand away or step back. “What’s it to you?”
“Don’t be like that.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, and her blush deepened and spread to the ear he touched. “I was hoping we could spend a little time together,” he continued, dropping his voice lower and brushing her hair back from her neck. He leaned in and murmured in her ear, “Catch up a little, just the two of us?”
She looked up at him, her lips pursed but her golden eyes wavering. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”
He chuckled. “Is that a yes?”
She sighed and gave him a reluctant smile. “Kara’s place, eight o’clock. You even look at another girl, and that’s it.”
“Kara? Srot’s girl?”
Misa frowned. “Rath—”
“I was just asking. Srot’s trying to get back with her.” He stepped closer and slid his arm around her waist. “Must be something going around.”
Char rolled his eyes and kept walking. The last time he’d seen those two together, Misa was throwing a drink in Rath’s face for kissing another girl. It would probably happen again tonight.
“I hate you,” he heard Misa mutter.
Rath laughed. “Tell me all about it later, okay?”
Char grinned and shook his head when his brother rejoined him. “You really are a pain.”
“But I know how to pick them, don’t I?” Rath smirked with smug assurance. “Kara’s place. And now Misa will tell her we’ll be there, and half the magic school will want in on the fun. It’ll be even easier for you to sneak in and steal Iris in the middle of the night.” He nudged Char’s shoulder with his. “That was your plan, right?”
Char pushed his brother away and gave him a sheepish smile. “Something like that.”
“Bring her to the party. She could probably benefit from cutting loose, too.”
“In front of half the magic school?”
Rath shrugged. “Everybody will be drunk. They won’t remember anything by morning.”
“Not everybody gets as wasted as you. Besides, she doesn’t strike me as the type to like the party scene.”
“You never know. Even our mother had a wild side.”
Char laughed. “You mean that story about Father tricking her into going to a party with him? She ended up pouring a drink down his pants and not talking to him for a month.”
“He said she was dancing on a table before that.”
“You know, I don’t want to picture our mother dancing on a table.”
“Then try picturing Iris dancing on a table.”
Char shoved Rath and his suggestive smirk away. “Shut up.”
“But you’re doing it, aren’t you?”
“I hate you.”
Rath laughed. “Lot of that going around. Hope Mother still loves me. Wait.” He stopped in the middle of the street, blocking Char with his arm and sniffing the air. “She’s baking! Last one home has to do the dishes!”
He sprinted towards the unmistakable scent of apple pie drifting out of an open window framed by red roses and crawling vines, but Char was faster in flight and on foot. Even with Rath’s head start, Char overtook him with ease and stopped them both at the door. He put a finger over his lips to shush his brother and opened the door with care, listening for any interruption in their mother’s humming. When he heard none, he crept through the entryway and peeked into the kitchen.
She had her back to the doorway, busy at the sink with the dishes, the pie cooling on the counter next to the open window. He snuck up behind her and hugged her around the waist, placing a kiss on her cheek.
“Hello, Mother.”
She laughed and looked back at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “So, you haven’t forgotten your dear old mother.”
“Not a chance.” Rath gave her a kiss on her other cheek as Char stepped back. “And you’re not old.”
“And you’re only saying that because you want some pie,” she retorted, drying her hands on a towel. “Dessert after lunch. Get the plates.”
“You have enough for us?” Rath asked, sending Char a hopeful glance. Char shook his head.
“I can whip something up. What do you say to breakfast for lunch?”
“You don’t have to—”
“We’d love it,” Rath interrupted Char.
“I don’t get to cook for my boys very often anymore. It’s no trouble,” she reassured Char, her smile crinkling her eyes. “So, tell me how the war’s been going. You two look well enough.”
Wisps of gray streaked her black hair from her temples to the low bun above her neck, more than had been there the last time they saw her, Char thought. She’d put on a little weight, too, and the fine lines around her eyes and her mouth had deepened. Their father’s death had aged her.
They didn’t talk about him much anymore.
Rath rattled on as he set the table, and Char watched their mother, smiling and nodding like she always did, occasionally reaching out to brush her fingers across the green and gold scales framing the window above the kitchen sink.
Their father’s scales.
Char knew more decorated the walls of the master bedroom.
Rath took after her in looks. The same eyes, the same cheekbones, a slimmer build than Char’s. They both had her hair, but other than that, Char was nearly identical in looks to their father. His green eyes, his broad shoulders, his height and strong jaw. Rath had their father’s personality, though. Char took after their quieter mother.
Rath stopped his recounting at the point where Char left for his scouting mission, and they sat down to eat. The rest would be difficult.
“Oh, I don’t like you being around humans,” their mother said, cutting her pancakes with a bit more force than was necessary.
“We’re the only ones on our team who can blend in with them,” Char reminded her. “And I’ve spent enough time with them to know their habits and mannerisms.”
“I know, I know. So, how did it go?”
Char recognized the forced cheer in her tone, and he hesitated. “That’s… complicated.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“He met a girl,” Rath supplied, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.
She frowned. “A human girl?”
“I told you, it’s complicated,” Char said, shooting Rath a warning look.
“Well, you’re not as flighty as Rath. What’s she like?”
Char knew the lightness in his mother's tone was false. He hesitated, trying to find the right words to soften the blow. “Uh… well, she was raised by a priest, so definitely not Rath’s type. She’s really nice, hard-working, kind, caring—”
“She’s a mage,” Rath blurted out.
Their mother’s expression darkened. Her fork clattered against her plate; her brow furrowed; her blue eyes flashed; and when she spoke, her voice was dangerous and low. “A mage?”
“She only just found out,” Char defended Iris.
“Or so she told you. Mages aren’t trustworthy. To think she bewitched my boy—”
“It isn’t like that! If you met her—”
“‘If I met her’? Which means you’re still seeing her. I knew nothing good could come of you fraternizing with humans. Is it so easy for you to forget what happened to your father?”
“No, Mother, I—”
“Where is the witch? I’ll take care of her myself.” She stood, and Rath jumped to his feet, too.
“Mother, calm down. She’s different.”
“You, too?” their mother asked in disbelief.
“She saved Srot’s life! Twice!”
“I don’t believe it!”
Char hadn’t seen their mother this angry in a long time. He stood and put a hand on her shoulder, and he could feel her trembling. “Mother—”
“I lost my husband to a mage. I will not lose my boys to another!”
She collapsed in Char’s arms, sobbing. He held her in an awkward embrace, wondering how he could fix this.
“So… we can’t hide her here?” Rath asked.
“Just shut up,” Char snapped. “Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut for once?”
“I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” his mother sobbed.
“Nothing will happen to me, Mother. She’s a prisoner of war. Kelnor knows all about her. She isn’t my girlfriend, and she has not cast a spell on me. I’m not the flighty one, remember? Just trust me.”
His mother looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Promise me you’ll stay away from her, Char. Promise me.”
He stared into her desperate blue eyes, her eyelids already puffy and red, and he wanted to tell her what she wanted to hear. But he saw Iris’ brown eyes, too, saw the tears slipping down her cheeks behind the waterfall when he’d pretended he hadn’t cared about her, and he couldn’t lie. Not again.
“I can’t do that, Mother.”
Her face twisted. She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.
Rath cleared his throat and looked away. “Guess I’ll start on the dishes."8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf02fYOGlqd
