TWO HUNDRED FORTY-FOUR: Contemplations

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“The cups you’ve been making for Emban and the knights of Sina’s birthset?” Stu said. “I didn’t know there was an extra.”

The warmth of the grain tea he’d shared with Olorn had faded from his throat a while ago. Their empty mugs perched on the end of the long dining table, soon to be carried away by one of the assistants if someone else didn’t pass by on their way to the kitchen. But a little of that warmth returned at the thought of why an extra Cup of Many Swallows might have been made.

“Olorn Mom… ”

Stu’s hands brushed over the leather of a sandal on the table. This was the eighteenth pair of shoes he’d examined since he’d come to get first meal and realized the spouses had decided today would be the start of the siblinghold’s annual check of important supplies. That included anything worn or regularly used by one of their family’s hn’tyons. Olorn had begun the day by having everything from the closets of those who were currently away from home brought down here for sorting.

The sandal was one of Kofa’s. Stu had hardly ever seen his eldest brother wear shoes, but this pair would be checked for him anyway. There was an enchantment on the sole. Stu thought it was one for quiet walking, though he didn’t recognize the feel of it well enough to identify it confidently.

He was confident it wasn’t broken, but the quiescence of it in response to the touch of his attention made him think time, some use his brother had put the shoes to, or just the impact of being in close proximity to Kofa had made the magic lose some of its strength.

“These are fine for now,” he said. “They’ll likely need a new enchantment in a couple of years.”

“Kofa likes those sandals.”

Stu looked over in time to see the eye Olorn had turned toward him already flicking back to her own examination of one of Kofa’s old uniform boots. The boot had more advanced enchantments than the sandal. Olorn was using a lens to check them rather than relying on her own senses.

“He likes them?” Stu carried the sandals over to the spot designated for things that would be repaired. If Kofa liked them, they should be kept as well as possible for him. When he returned home, they would be ready.

“Olorn Mom…the cup was a wonderful gift to give Alden’s schoolmate…”

Stu picked up another shoe, but he didn’t focus on it yet.

Why did you make an extra of such a difficult object? If there was an extra to give, was it because you were thinking another child of this house might become a knight soon? When you were crafting them, did you think—?

“I didn’t make an extra,” said Olorn. “So it was dearly given. But the sameface twins always travel together, and should be able to share one. I’ll make another for them as soon as I can.”

Disappointment. It was one of life’s many kinds of pain.

Feeling foolish. That was another.

Stu didn’t understand why he always had a mote of surprise in him during moments like this. Even after everything that had been explained, whispered, and shouted through tears, it was still there. As small and sharp as the tip of a kyumba embroidery needle, it pricked him and released a thought like a drop of blood.

Olorn Mom, don’t you think I’m strong enough now? Don’t you think I can be like the rest of you, finally?

She didn’t.

Stu knew that.

The next time he saw Healer Yenu, he would ask her to check him and see if they’d missed something. Could it really be normal to know a painful truth and continually be surprised when it hurt you?

Maybe this is something that only happens to me.

“Why couldn’t Bithe summon Kon?” he asked.

Stu knew he wasn’t good at hiding his feelings, but he thought he was getting better at it. At least, more practice shouldn’t be making him less able. A question here to give himself something else to think about—one he knew Alden would want the answer to.

“I’m sure you can guess well enough based on what you know,” Olorn said. “His skill was created to meet a specific need, and the ones who oversaw its creation want to make sure he develops himself properly. They don’t want other wizards interfering with his education, forming their own contracts with him, or giving him a poor impression of Artonans.”

Why weren’t all Avowed given education and good impressions?

Why were humans treated with such a confusing brew of coddling, wariness, welcome, and incompetence?

Why did Alden have a spell impression for killing pests? Frivolous, dissonant with his skill, and disappointing to him.

Because not everything is beautiful.

Stu thought every year that his ears were finally hearing that truth at an accurate volume. Every year, he found it was actually louder than he’d understood.

His progress through the less necessary shoes was faster than Olorn’s through the more necessary ones. He soon reached her end of the table, and she set aside the footwear to work on him.

“Were you on your way to LeafSong when you saw me starting on this project?” she asked, touching the symbol for humble wondering on his sleeve, then the burngem strand dangling from one of his ears. Emban had bought the piece of jewelry for him, saying it matched his eyes. Today, he felt guilty for never wearing it.

“I was waiting to see how things are for Emban before I decided. I was going to my morning contemplations instead.”

“You did well on the Here-to-There.”

“I would value your opinion on some of my decisions,” Stu said. “In a few days, after I’ve thought about it all more.”

“I will have to cast a spell of silence on Veln if it’s my opinion you want to listen to. He’s so eager to hear a full account and advise you… and praise you into the treetops.”

She embraced him, and she embraced him.

And he returned both.

“I am so proud of you, Stu.”

“I know.”

Some beautiful things were complicated.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Go to your contemplations,” she said. “You know how long we’ll be at this. Help when it won’t interrupt your own tasks.”

He left, winding through the ground floor until he found the room Grandpa-Grandpa was sleeping in today. Murmur didn’t have a space of his own because that would make him feel less than fully at home in the rest of the house. All rooms were his to roam, though he was quietly offended by the upper floors and rarely chose them for his naps.

Other Alden, influenced by Weset, had decided the mleirt’s velvety fur and body heat made him an appropriate mattress. The ryeh-b’t was awake and chewing on him when Stu pried her off his back and tiptoed away with her.

This habit couldn’t continue. Murmur wouldn’t notice such small teeth, but other people certainly would.

“They keep letting you do whatever you want when I’m away,” he said when they were outside. “I found that orange you clawed to pieces behind the oath cottage. I know it was you.”