Chapter 5 – Kinship

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were singing. The flowers were blooming. On days like these people like Willam got burnt in the sun. It sucked to have pale skin.

Lake Nessta, of which Willam was intimately acquainted, was serene this afternoon. Clouds of fluff passed overhead. Small families of animals roamed the widdershins side of the lake. There was an assortment of green platypuses blocking off a burrow too close to their territory. A group of echidnas with red spikes were moving away, most likely searching for a new home. The whistling breeze of last night had been replaced. Willam closed his eyes, the harmonics of bird song and the rustle of the willow tree’s leaves brushing against the wind soothed his erratic heartbeat.

He was on his own now.

The divine quality of the afternoon added another level of stress to Willam’s mind. It was as if the Wild Mother and Star Child themselves had intervened to provide him every possible advantage to succeed in his plan. He was waiting for the pin to drop; how was he going to klutz this up. He brushed his hair back wiping his hands in his hair. It was getting quite long. He should get a haircut, the unruly mess of hair definitely a detriment during the Choosing. No one wanted a dishevelled Foundling. Maybe after this he’ll ask to borrow some shears from the Carers and tidy himself up.

Who am I kidding, it’s not my hair. Who accepts a seventeen-season old Foundling? May as well let it grow long, see if it makes a difference in the end.

Willam was a cynic. He swore it wasn’t his fault, but after watching one then two then nearly all one’s childhood friends and family disappear, moving on with life, while being stuck as that unwanted klutz; it wore on a man. He could count on one hand the number of people still around from when he first arrived at the orphanage; Julia, Evelyn, Mattias and himself. Of that group one was his best friend, the other refused to let him live without earning it, and Mattias… Willam did not remember what he was up to. He thought of checking in on him every now and again but never did. Weird, but I guess when one’s been around as long as Willam one ends up teaching others their duties instead of the carers.

Willam knew there were others in that institution near his age. They had arrived at different times for different reasons but he never felt the same connection with them as he did the other three. Well, two if he was honest. There were not many seasons where a group of new orphans each possess little to no memory of their past family and lives and have to grow up together. Willam could remember the days when there were thirty wards at maximum to be taken care of by the staff. Yet, the Headmistress ran a successful institution, she raised some notable community members and with the Archon’s ear she made the orphanage grow. Now it was home to hundreds of orphans, a couple hundred labourers, tens of Carers, and even bred the best race horses and tea in all of Castoria.

“That was it! He’s a racer, that’s what he’s doing.” Willam remembered where Mattias was, and scared off the nearby birds while doing it.

Castoria was a small state in the grand scheme of the federation. Ayloria was twice the size in landmass with triple the manufacturing as well, if the tomes in the library were anything to go on. From what he had read, the pilgrims that used to brave the Wastes on average possessed more coin than a common Castorian homestead before the war. So, in the end Willam was a nothing orphan, in a nothing state, with near nothing to his name, his only heritage an old scarf and a broken eye-piece locked away in a box that lived under his bed. The conclusion; Willam will continue to be nothing.

He sighed.

I guess if I manage to stay friends with Jules once she leaves that’s a step above nothing. Maybe I’ll be mentioned in a line in some historical text somewhere: “old friend of the great Julia Peerdove, Willam something something.” Gosh, I’m such a joy.

Before Willam could descend further into his own madness a cry echoed across the lake. It sounded like a mix between a stifled screech and someone saying echo. The twins had arrived. It was time.

Willam dusted himself off standing up to take stock. Picnic blanket, check. Picnic basket, check. Delightful homemade sweets, check. Sweets to bribe the twins, check. Ability to keep it together and get on with it… to be seen. Willam began to pace around the blanket.

“Okay Willam, for the first time in your life just do something nice for someone else. No ifs or buts, just be a good person. You can do that for an afternoon can’t you?” He stopped in front of the nearby echidnas. The leader paused, turned its head to him, blew out air from its long nose, wiggled its spiky back and walked on. “And now I’m asking animal’s for confirmation about myself, just lovely. Fan-fay-tastic!”

The squelch of shoes on soft earth, combined with the crunch of someone walking on sand brought Willam to attention. He hadn’t rehearsed what to say, if anything it would have made it worse for him. What he needed to do was to be a friend. To be a best friend, thats all that was asked of him.

He stood alone with his thoughts and a picnic. At that moment he felt like a solider returning from war. He did not know how home had faired, nor how people had changed while he was away. He had come to terms with demons within himself, had had fought for the right to have a home. Now, it was time to return and rekindle what home is; to accept his past so he could build a future.

Willam watched Lain sprint along the lakes edge. Every now and again he would stop, collect a stone, and skip it across the lake. He wasn’t very good at it, but when he skipped it three or more times, he’d shout to his sister who egg him on to go again. They were excellent siblings, the best he had seen at the orphanage. He noted to thank them properly when he could some time. They deserved someone to look out for them, and Willam would make sure they had someone one way or another.

Strolling besides Melia was Julia. Her hair swept back in a pony tail, face a little red from the walk. She wore a flower crown, a matching one was on Melia’s head. She walked with purpose, her face set. Her mouth was a straight line, offering nothing to soothe Willam’s nerves.

Thank you, whoever and however you got me to this point. I promise I will do right by her, and by myself I believe. What will be after that will be.

Melia let go of Julia’s hand and ran to Willam. There was a pip in her step and a grin wide on her face. When she neared Willam she slowed down to a skip. The crown on her head was interwoven with her hair so it stayed in place as she moved. She stopped before Willam and curtsied, all the while giggling to herself.

“Very elegant.” Willam said.

“The most.” Melia stuck out her tongue, still giggling.

Over her shoulder Julia was giving Lain her flower crown. Willam was suspicious as to why he did not already have one, but accepted that it would not be without a reason.“So, you proud of us?”

Willam smiled. “Very proud. Thank you so much for the help.”

“Well, how much are you really gonna thank us?” Melia raised an eyebrow. Willam laughed; the sprites in his stomach made it sound a little forced.

“Come here and I’ll show you.” He opened his arms wide. Melia was wary, but after Willam shot her a wink she gave him a hug. “Scroll or sweet?”

“Both.”

Willam sighed. He ruffled under his light summer jacket, which was handy in protecting him from the sun despite the heat. Within he pulled out a little sack, filled with both a scroll and sweets.

“Make sure to share.” Willam whispered, letting her go. Melia nodded and skipped away with the bundle. Julia had finished moving her flower crown over to Lain. Melia said by, grabbed Lain’s hand and skipped away with him. The boy joined his sister, their arms interlocked.

Willam noted Lain was trying to swipe the bundle but thought he can leave it. He had a more important matter to deal with.

Julia strolled up to Willam’s picnic. She assessed the blanket and the basket, looked all around before letting her eyes meet Willam’s. She placed her hands on her hips. Then, she waited.

Willam felt like his heart was in his throat. Its beating making his entire body shake. He hoped he wasn’t actually shaking. Sprites in his belly started acting up, and while he had not tried a cinnamon scroll yet he felt as if his breakfast was moving in the wrong direction. There was something vivid and dreamlike in trying to express one’s own feelings. It was a crucible of language in one respect, whether one had the vocabulary to articulate themselves. Willam had studied tomes and texts since he could; language was not the enemy in this fight. The true threat was the emotions themselves.

Okay Willam, she’s waiting and you know what she expects. Time to grow up man. Time to be a better person.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can stress that enough, I am so sorry for last night. I was a horrible, fearful wreck and I should never have taken it out on you as I did. Especially when all you wanted to do was comfort me. How I felt in the moment doesn’t matter, I lost my temper, and I harmed our friendship last night and worst of all I hurt you.” Willam paused for breath, remembering the anger in her face when he had said he believe her. He still didn’t but that was beside the point.

“Julia, I honestly do not know what I would do without you. There are only so many things in my life that I can rely on. Even smaller are the things I can rely upon to bring me joy. You are as reliable as the sun is in my life, the friend I don’t deserve but always need. No one in this world has cared for me or brought me back to myself more times than you have. No one has dared care for me as you have. Jules, I’d travel through all six states and through the lost continent or even across the Intrepid Wastes to help you if you needed me; because for all these seasons together you deserve at least that much.

“Jules, I know I’m a hypocrite, and a misanthrope, and all the other terms for those grouchy old cynics in those stories we used to read each other. I’m not normal, and as much as I hate it, I’ve come to accept it. I’m not who I should be as a person, for myself, or for others. But, today in this moment in time I can do something right. Not for anyone but for my best friend.” Willam gestured to the blanket behind him, the lake, the food, and the moment they could share. It was a place in time. A present to cherish, to remember together.

“Now, nothing needs to be forgiven. No questions need to be asked. I understand that this doesn’t change…” Julia held up her hand. Willam held his breath. She took a moment to herself. And as the anxiety began to claw its way into Willam mind, she spoke.

“I forgive you, and I accept your apology, but,” Willam’s heart jumped into his throat.

“On one condition; that you stop being overly sweet and listen.”

Julia invited Willam to sit before she sat down herself. Willam stared at Jules, sprites fluttering in his stomach. Julia stared out across the lake. She neither grinned nor frowned. In that moment she just was; she was true.

“I am not above nor beyond you, Willam.” She faced him. There was fire in her eyes, her jaw was set as spoke. “Of course I’ve cared for you all these seasons, you deserve it. No one has taken me as seriously or done as much for me then you Willam Strange. You’ve been there when I was lost and alone. You fought with me when I’ve been stubborn and stupid. Blessed Wild Mother, you held my hair back when I made those stupid decisions anyway! You even petitioned to read the Carer’s almanac to learn how to patch me up better from my scuffles! Like, who else does that?! Who willingly searches a library full of knowledge and nonsense, finding it all to be useful and alluring? You do and thats amazing!

“Now, it’s not like it’s a forest-Fay surprise that yes, you hurt me last night. The Stone Father knows I cried ugly in my room last night because of it. Like, wow, you can be something imposing and vicious when you need to be. Quite a bit more than I actually thought you ever could be, if I’m honest.” Julia inhaled in a big breath.

“But… I can accept that I may have pushed too hard last night. I misread things, I was out of order, heck I might need to find a tome like you do to learn how to understand others better than I do now. I was wrong in what I said last night. Even if I’ll never, EVER, admit to being wrong for caring for you as I do; I can admit that I don’t have the words like you do. Still without the words I will always care, alright. Get that through your thick skull! No ifs nor buts about it, thats for certain.” Her tone brooked no argument. “So, I guess this is like my apology for not being brave enough to be the better person. Ya’know how I am and I know who you are and one measly argument ain’t gonna change that. But you can only accept my apology if you take yourself as seriously as I do. Or at least as seriously as I take your cooking. Now, pass me whatever you slipped Melia. I know she has good taste, the twerp.”

Willam stood stock still. Tears streamed down his face; a smile half worn on his lips. “Thank you.”

“I’m still waiting on that treat Klutzy. Sugar in hand, now.”

Willam collected some cinnamon scrolls passing two to Julia. The look of sheer joy she wore as she ate them giant bite after giant bite have Willam a high of emotions he had not felt in days.

“These are amazing. Are they?”

“Yup. Same recipe. I, ah… made them myself. With some help of course.”

“I think I’m going to join you and cry now.”

Willam didn’t know what to do. Julia began to bawl her eyes out which only served to worsen Willam’s own tears. The two sat together arm in arm watching the lake through misty eyes. They devoured cinnamon scrolls and an assortment of sweets with an abundance of tea to wash it all down. They watched the sky shift from blue to oranges and red as the sun set across the lake. The lake reflected the sky, glowing as if the sun was inside it about to burst through. The two orphans of seventeen seasons old, best friends, enjoyed the sunset together.

“Now that twice you’ve cause me to cry, in two days no less.” Julia said.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a horrible friend.”

“That you are, these scrolls are criminal I tell you!” They laughed together. They were at peace.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you Jules.”

“Back at you, Klutzy. I’m sure you’d do better than me once we get out of this place.”

Willam was silent.

Julia opened her mouth. But, Willam would never know if she was going to say more on the topic, about herself or if she knew something about him that he didn’t know about himself.

Near the heart of the lake, the surface bubbled then rippled. The surface tension broken by a huge serpentine body. Waves crashed on the lake’s edge as an enormous entity escaped the bottom of the lake. Its head was the size of a man’s torso, its neck littered with gills and scales that refracted the dying light of the sun. The beast’s body broke the surface at multiple intervals; for all Willam could tell it was the length of one of the orphanages wings. The creature dived before surfacing once again, as if ejected by the water itself. It glided in the sky for a moment; a breathtaking, physics defying, moment of pure wonder. The roar that echoed from its maw echoed across all corners of the lake. Willam placed his hands over his ears, chills rushed through his body from the cry. Then, as it emerged abruptly it so disappeared as suddenly.

The sun had fallen below the horizon, the sky a deep navy blue. The once rainbow scales fell dark, and the creature in all its glory became a terrifying entity in the dark. It plunged under the water’s surface, and vanished. The crashing of waves on the lakes edge the last piece of evidence signifying that that thing, that entity, had existed at all.

Willam held onto Julia. During the display she had become his life-raft, floating him through a possible disaster.

“Thank you Willam. Thank you.” Willam stared up into Julia’s eyes. Tears clouding them once again, even when she tried so hard to hold them back.

Willam smiled, and nodded. He gave her a final embrace, before he let go. He helped her up, and began to pack up the picnic; readying them for the trek home.

It had been a great day.