PRANSAI:

The weather was unremarkable. The sky was a clear, brilliant shade of blue, with nary a cloud in sight. It had felt wrong the first year that had been the case on the anniversary. With the cold season having arrived in full by this time each year, it was usually overcast, which had been fitting.

Now though, it was enough time past that it no longer felt required for the sky to mourn along with us.

Casai and I were the only two awake in the house in the early hours of the morning, both of us having been restless sleepers on this day. The floralum plants dotted around the dining room cast enough light to illuminate the space for us while the sun still struggled to make its way over the horizon. Casai lit an incense stick with a whispered spell and set it on the center of the table before settling back into the seat at the table closest to me. I wondered whether she agreed with me about the sky and its obligation to us after 7 years.

Our nation of Dodemo and the Kingdom of Ponpriness had been "at war" for generations, though much of that time had not actually been spent fighting. Ponpriness was almost always the aggressor, and would fight until their current well of monetary support, collected from the peasants who had been whipped into a fury in order to support the conflict, ran dry. After the money was gone, and the outer villages had been pillaged, which was usually the real goal of the "war" each time. Ponpriness would withdraw its forces, and the nobles would make off with the spoils. Conquest had never truly been a goal of theirs.

The farthest their front lines had ever been pushed west into Dodemo had put them 10 miles from Tinbron, our home. That had been 7 years ago. But when the cold came, most expected the offensive to stall, as it usually would at that time. Most had been right. The army had stopped. However, the hired "adventuring" parties had smelled the chance for loot in the towns near the front, ones the army proper had never before gotten to, in their minds ripe for the pillaging. 

I gazed at the two empty chairs sitting across from Casai and I. Sinsa had started living with us 5 years ago, and had filled one of those seats. Korey had started to fill the other 6 and half years after it had gone empty.

I had been out hunting that day, almost exactly the age Casai was now. It was the sight of smoke that first alerted me that something was amiss. I still remembered the way my paws had slipped on the loose snow, the way my lungs burned in the cold, the way I had put everything I had into getting home as fast as one could. And I remembered how it had not been enough. The front door was already swinging open in the breeze, and the threshold was already splattered with red. When I burst through the entry, all thoughts of self preservation miles away, I found both our parents lying on the floor, the lifeblood already having begun to seep into the wood. 3 human men stood, equipped with a ragtag assortment of gear, one holding an injured arm. Casai, only 8 at the time was between them, eyes wide and bawling loudly. My claws found loosed the arrow into one of the intruders before my brain made the decision to fight. He went down as I hurtled toward Casai. The other two were in such shock, they didn't have time to intercept before I had gathered my sister into my arms and hurled ourselves out the kitchen window. I only had time to see the look on the face of one of the surviving murderers. It was not anger or fear or sorrow there. It had been disgust.

We did not say anything to one another, but when Casai reached out a paw, I was quick to take hold and softly return her squeeze.

We stayed like that for a long time, while the sun finished its climb over the horizon, and wood above our heads began to creak.

It seemed Korey was the next to wake up, judging from the sound of slow careful footsteps coming from above. Not long after the panicked footsteps of Sinsa could be heard pacing back and forth for a moment, before scurrying across the hallway towards Korey's room. Both my sister and I pricked our ears toward the sound of low voices, before they stopped, and in their place, the faint smell of smoke trailed down the stairs. The sound of voices picked up again, more frantic this time, before the smoke smell stopped.

Casai raised an eyebrow at me. "Is Sinsa still trying to make us breakfast in bed?"

"I assume that the cause of his pacing was finding us not in our beds, though, with Korey helping with the food, perhaps it will be edible this time." It was not entirely Sinsa's fault that he was a poor cook, but it was still best to avoid his cooking.

Casai smiled at that, the first time she had done so today. It didn't take long for the two of them to make their way downstairs. 

Sinsa's looked abashed, hanging his head, though trying not to look too sullen. Korey followed a pace behind, arms folded sternly, though his eyes betrayed his amusement rather than disappointment. 

"Sorry th-that I didn't g-get you food in bed today, and that I, uhhh... almost burnt down the house."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "And why did you see fit to try to burn down our home?" It was fun to tease Sinsa sometimes.

"Well, uhhh... I was trying to c-cook without coming d-down into the kitchen, since you t-two were probably d-down here, and I still needed fire t-to cook, so..." Sinsa continued to stumble over his words as Korey's attempt at stoicism failed, and he cracked a smile and hopped in to finish the story.

"So we now have a slightly burnt and wet piece of floor, but otherwise things are all in order now."

"Y-yes, b-but still, sorry about the food." Sinsa was clearly distraught over failing to keep up his tradition for us. Casai must have noticed it as well, as she jumped in to console him.

"No need to feel down, I'm happy to help with breakfast, I've had plenty of practice making my own food for the past..."

The unspoken amount of time held in the air, killing the conversation. Casai had become such a wonderful cook, and it was clear she enjoyed it, but it had been born of necessity. None of the rest of her family knew how to after our father had passed.

"You don't need to bother yourself, you cook too much already." Korey broke the silence and turned toward the stove. Sinsa sat down, and we made some half hearted attempts at conversation, though it was clear our hearts weren't in it. All of us were too keenly trying to avoid bringing up something that would invoke heartache, and in doing so, we were only making it more pronounced. The incense stick Casai had lit fizzled in the center of table, a small puff of smoke rising as it gave the last of itself for our benefit.

I was so lost in thought, I did not notice the food until it was set down in front of me. Both Korey and Casai had become adept at properly cooking and seasoning snake meat in the past month. A thinly cut slice, along with poached eggs, and the small amount of Parflow Korey had managed to salvage from our garden was arranged neatly on the three plates that Korey set down in front of us.

I absentmindedly began to dig in, when Casai sharp voice broke my concentration. "Where are you going!?" 

Korey turned with a guilty expression, already halfway toward the stairs. "I... well, umm... I was going upstairs?"

"I know we're miserable conversationists at the moment, but are we really so bad you need to leave?" Casai retorted, half joking but still pressing for more of an answer.

"NO, no, it's just... I'm more than happy to help I only... I don't want to impose." He seemed to deflate a bit with that last answer.

"How can you impose on breakfast, you live here?" I questioned, the words sneaking past the food I had begun to eat.

"I was more referring to imposing on, well, whatever else you do on this day, but really, feel free to ask for help, I'm more than happy to-"

"Why don't you want to participate?" Casai once again pressed further, the smallest hint of anger beginning to decorate her words. Casai did not often seem a child, but when our parents came up, she was quicker than even me to let emotion get the better of her.

Korey paused for a moment, catching Casai's tone, and stood up a bit straighter before addressing her. "It's not that I don't want to participate, but it feels like it would be disrespectful to do so. Each of you knew them personally, but I never got the chance to meet them. I don't even know their names, so I don't feel like I can properly..." Korey's confidence waned, and his answer trailed off as he failed to find the words.

Casai looked mortified at her previous outburst, her maw moved to say something, but no words came out. Sinsa looked down, seemingly deep in his own thoughts. I knew that he had probably felt out of place at first too, staying here, after they passed. I was not truly certain what to with myself at the moment either, though it felt wrong to continue eating presently.

A few more moments passed, and Korey turned toward the stairs again.

"My dad's name was Ramu Ledi."

Each of us turned to face the small voice of Casai.

"He was always pretended to be really serious, but in his heart, he was a goofball. It didn't matter how bad things were, he'd always make light of it with a straight face. One year, when we didn't have much food, I remember seeing no food on his plate for dinner, and I asked him if he was alright. I was so little, I didn't really understand what was happening, but he just smiled and said 'Well, I've decided to see if I look good in belts now, but all my pants are too tight for a belt. So I think I'll leave the eating to you for a bit!'" Casai's eyes were watery, but in that moment her smile was a perfect copy of our fathers.

"Rensai, th-their mother, was the k-kindest soul." Sinsa had extracted himself from his thoughts. "When I first c-came to town here I didn't have much. Nobody knew me, so it was hard to find work, and I ran out of money for the inn after only two weeks. I must have looked p-pathetic, but Rensai hired me for a job. It was maybe the most useless spell I'd ever made, all it d-did was light up a pattern for her table. But you'd have thought I'd made green the desert the way she was ecstatic over it." One of his hands absentmindedly drifted over the small carvings still in the table. "She knew I didn't have a place to stay, so she showed me to one of the abandoned homes in town. She told me, 'If you can fix this place up, the rule is you get to keep it! But it does not say anything about receiving help, so feel free to call upon me if you need it!' I didn't question why it was free till years later, and by then she had already managed to pay the whole place off. She never accepted any payment from me other than the occasional spell circle." Sinsa smiled softly at the memory.

Watching Sinsa jogged my own memory. "When I was fourteen, father decided that I was old enough to start teaching me wisdom of his, though much of it was complete nonsense. He took great joy in making us sound foolish. Once, with an air of complete normality, he asked me 'Have you ever tried a dingleberry?' When I told him I had not, he smiled, and I did not catch the mischief in it. He said 'I believe Myphra should have some about this time, go to her and say '"Miss Myphra, I'd really like some dingleberries to try!"' and I'm certain she'd be happy to.' I was completely mortified when I went to Myphra and asked with sincerity if I could try a dingleberry, only to learn that was the name of the droppings that were caught in the wool on a Musimon's behind."

Casai barked a laugh at my remembered embarrassment, and I smiled. I had been quite fool of myself at the time, and moments such as those had likely done much to humble me.

"While much of his wisdom was of such a quality, it was not entirely as such. I had been sitting with Sinsa under a tree, and listened to him talk on spell circles for long enough that the sun had gone from one side of the sky to the other. I scarcely was able to keep up with the intricacies of the lecture, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. My father found me on my way home and asked where I'd been. Being young, I got defensive, and simply said I had been in the woods. 'Sounds dull' he said 'though, if I was in the woods with your mother, I imagine I could spend all day in the woods doing nothing and come back with a smile on my face.' I tried to squash the smile off of my face, though I had clearly already been seen through. 'How many of the spells that he talked about were for you?' That stopped me, both because he had once again seen through the situation with pinpoint accuracy. I was ashamed that I could not answer him properly, and he told me 'If you're going to listen to him so often, make sure you remember his words too, I like that kid, he's very kind.' I made a real effort to as well after that." Sinsa blushed and, but smiled nonetheless.

A mischievous grin spread across Casai's face, "They weren't perfect angels though. Dad was one of the most clumsy people I had met, and I knew it even at 7. Once, he was trying to climb..."

We continued to regal each other with stories about our parents. Tears were common, but so were smiles in equal measure. It was so common for us to remember them in bleak times and wish for them to be here. But this, remembering them at their best, with a perfect sky and the sun shining through the window, this moment felt like I was remembering them better than I had in years. I realized it was because this was the atmosphere that they had cultivated, and tried so hard to preserve for us. That things could be happy even if it felt like the sky should be grey.

Some time ago, I had been worried when Sinsa and I had started living together. Despite my standoffish nature, I had asked for help so often from my father, and I was afraid I would not be good enough. But I remembered how, after seeing me happy with Sinsa, father had told me to put effort into loving him, and that he approved of him. "I like that kid, he's very kind."

I looked at Korey and smiled to myself. I watched as he continued to encourage stories from Casai and Sinsa, and looked down at the nearly finished food on my plate.

I think you would have liked Korey too, father.