167 Endurance run

If anyone was wondering what dessert was served on the crazy night of the Doukas's family visit, I can simply say it was magical.

Under that clear moonlight, colorful flowers stood swaying in the wind. A small patch of the most curious tulips was blooming out of season. Each flower stood heavy, some toppled down by their own weight.

Inside each bud was a sweet cup of delicate pudding.

Pudding!

Every dazzling color contained a different flavor, naturally contained in the little petals. As if the nectar of a flower-filled to the brim and thickened with sweet, light yet creamy pudding. Strawberry. Green apple. Butterscotch. Something that tasted out of this world, like cookies and cream?

A perfectly elegant dessert, sipped from flowers as if they were a tall glass.

As a cheat with my whole life as a noble young miss behind me, fed with all the best my parents' money had to offer, this was not my first time trying such delights. They go by many names. Cream of the Flower. Budino di trulipni. Fairy cups. Would a tulip pudding by any other name taste as sweet?

This was not even my first time prowling on all fours through some grass, plucking them straight out of the ground.

Thank my Grampa for that, crazy even then I shiver at the horrendous but oddly nostalgic memories of those forced times camping with him. Ah, wild tulipcreams. They taste so marvelous when tired and at the end of your rope as if you could flutter and grow wings, taking off in flight.

With my cultured tastes, I could tell these were farm raised. Still a great feat, as they're very difficult to transport let alone raise. A round of applause for Grampa, who successfully set that up.

Delicious but not my first experience.

It was however my baby sister's and minion's first time.

So please excuse them today, as they crawl around on the grass, trying to bite and chew the poor innocent plants. It's an odd sight I know.

"Blehg! Not yummy." Lilyanne spits, failing to enjoy the diet of a goat.

"I don't think there's any of that awesome stuff here." Lukas dunks his head in and out of the closest public water fountain. A pathetic attempt at trying to wash out the taste of the dirt, grass, and whatever else that will make the local landscapers and gardeners cry.

"Gotta ask Grampwy." Lilyanne concludes, failing to eat a tasty flower for the 7th time.

"Very good observations. Now are you done eating grass or do you want to start going 'baaa baaa' for me?" I watch on, tired from this morning's exercises.

Good news, we're allowed back at the troops today. Bad news, we were forced to jog all the way to the troops today.

It's almost torture to watch my own wagon bus system pass us by.

Signore Sierra, in his usual driver seat, has his teenaged granddaughter riding with him today. The sight of a maiden is always welcome to my eyes, like a decorative landscape or some lovely flowers on the path. Sadly, none of this is cute enough to really heal me from my torment.

When they wave at us and honk a little horn, making the rest of the passengers take notice of us by the roadside, I feel like a tourist attraction.

If you look to your right this early morning in Ventrella lands, you will see children, specifically the young miss Rosalia, Lilyanne, and a bonus wild Lukas being tortured in their natural habitat. Under the supposed care of a crazy Grampa.

That crazy old man. He pulled us out of bed by our little toes before dawn even blinked into day. That's how we're here now, still trudging along on foot.

The worst part was how Mother just let him!

Isn't that a security concern?! How could anyone just waltz into a lady's bedroom and kidnap her children by the toes? Huh? This is a terrible precedent!

Sure, Mother stirred for a bit at our screams but all it took was a few rough pats on her messy bushy bedhead for Grampa to get her rolling back asleep, abandoning us. She abandoned us to sleep in!

We were all together at least. One stop suffering. It seems like Lukas is staying with us while Gable is on his trip. There wasn't even any question about it. Mother just straight out stuffed him with us. I suppose it's fine for now, given how small we all are. Certainly better than letting him in Grampa's rooms.

Dangerous quarters for a dangerous man.

I never let Lilyanne go in there without Grampa's direct supervision on us. As the original, I recall how I once fell asleep in there and woke up flying over the shimmering sea on a sheep skin. Worst magic carpet ride ever. Let's not have any repeats.

"Awww, are we all playing goats and grass today?! You're all so energetic after all. It's good to be young!" Grampa makes his way back to us, presumably from jogging all the way to the troops and back, all grins and smiles.

Easy for him to say. His legs are much longer than ours. Running so much at our age is just cruel and unusual, especially so early in the morning.

Does he wish to kill us?!

"What doesn't kill, maim, disable or greatly mentally scar you beyond belief, will only make you stronger, Rosalia. Besides! I already carried you part of the way! We already cheated." Grampa pats my belly where I lay.

I will try not to take offense at whatever that is supposed to mean. It would just be a waste of a reaction. Or movement.

"Is dis one yummy?" Lilyanne holds up another plant, waving it to get Grampa's attention,

"No," I say, rolling over to get up.

"Yes!" Grampa counters awfully.

Within a few seconds, Lilyanne is back spitting up more green organic matter, screeching her head voice off.

"What?! That's one of the easier wild edibles you can find! Back in my day, a salad was what one could rip from the earth on the long marches to victory. Seasoned with grit, courage and-"

"Lily likes salad with cheese and dressing better." my sister nudges Lukas aside to dunk herself in the water fountain.

"But baby-"

Here we have an absolutely pathetic excuse of a Grandfather, being ignored by his most beloved Lilyanne. Today he too shall join, nay be among the first, of countless men left in her dust, or well dunks.

Splash she goes, gurgling in the water fountain. Absolutely disgusting.

"Lilyanne be careful, other people and their horses drink from there," I say with no energy.

Luckily, I brought my own drinks in my trusty purse. Ah, knock-off soda really hits the spot! Revive me with Gable's herbal concoctions.

I haven't been able to sell any as of late, no time, wrong season, but that's all ok. More stock for me. After all, I seriously need it today!

A loud whimper comes nudging beside me.

"It's called asking, Lukas." I continue to drink, ignoring him.

The whimpering only gets louder.

"In hooooman speech. With words. Politely. Come on, we've been over this." I make the motions to snap.

"Stooooopid. Watch Lily." my sister comes to show off her superior manners.

By supposedly rolling over on her back and showing me her tummy, with free stupid little baby animal noises coming out her mouth.

They both fail. Send them to the pound.

"Huh. What were these made out of again? Might have to test them with Gable." Grampa takes the bottle right out of my hands, shaking the contents around.

"Grampa!" I yell out, hopping for my drink.

With that short rest break over with, we are back to marching. Or well, running for all our little legs are worth. It's been hours, HOURS!

It's very dramatic with the hot noon sun shining over us as we approach the horizon view of the Troop's gates. Shitty fort wood and all. Oh by the spirits I have never been so happy to see the Troops, ever.

"Last stretch! Almost there! Just a little more! Go go go! It will be your best time yet!" Grampa cheers, jogging circles around us.

"It will be our only time yet!"

I somehow manage to have the strength to scream at him. Never before in this lifetime have we been forced to run from the villa to the troops! This is not a casual distance! There are hills!

"Next time, you'll go all the way by yourselves! Grampapa has faith in you!" the shitty old man cheers.

"Lily …take nap….right here." my sister is too tired to even cry, all out of breath.

"You….can't…leave me….to swoon!" I reach to pinch and pull her.

Not again Lilyanne. You will not leave me to suffer with Grampa all alone. No more cheating being a Ventrella. If we have that shitty old exercise freak as a Grampa, then we will both suffer. Both of us!

"You guys need to get stronger real bad." Lukas merely hops around us, taking it easy.

His normally cheery face looks unimpressed. If I could spare another breath without my lungs concaving in on me, I would teach him a lesson. Just because it's true doesn't mean you should say it!

"Alright, Rosieposie is keeping a good pace. Strong lungs! I just know it! Lukiepookie, be a good boy and give our Lilybilly a bit of a push. You can all make it!"

Lukas does even more than is told with an energetic kick to the butt. I don't think he understands 'a bit of a push' correctly. We're dying here! Dying!

All the commotion must be drawing a crowd. The doorways are wide open, with various guards and some far too free troopers lining the way or hanging up on top of the gate, all cheering and waving. They're acting as if this was the inspirational end of a movie, a marathon race finally at the end of the line. Something monumental to witness.

Is that a ribbon? They seriously got a finish line ribbon at the gateway set up? Grampa! What is wrong with you?!!!

The gathered crowd cheers even more violently as we tiredly toddle closer. Every step is excruciating on the senses, squeezing our childish bellies and torsos. How does one turn these off huh? How do you turn off pain and still breathe? The noise is deafening, though admittedly stupidly encouraging.

It's a very anticlimactic end of this marathon though.

We're all too short for the ribbon and just run right under it. Limbo!

"Finally!"

I can stop! It's over with! It's finally over!

My little celebration comes with abrupt silence. Due to years of Grampa's discipline, I don't stop and fall over instantly but slow down to cool down the movement of my legs.

Behind me, however, Lilyanne has indeed plopped over. Her prone form of chubby little legs and a head of very messy curls are all that lay sticking out from the dirt cloud she made. Her body gave out exactly one step past the finish line that we were too short for.

"...Did we place the ribbon wrong?"

"No no no, they're too small. What if they tripped?"

"...Well that one just did."

"....should we evacuate?"

I circle back over, where Lukas and I can poke ahem, come to Lilyanne's aid. Her face-planted figure jiggles a bit, proof of life. A muffled sound comes from the floor.

"I TAKE NAP RIGHT HERE. Goodnight."

Lilyanne's crying tone is very final. Poor thing.

"Grampa. Lily isn't doing her cool-down exercises." I call out.

"She's not moving no more! I'm trying!" Lukas tries by poking, then lightly kicking her over.

Still, Lilyanne is very stubborn in pretending to be unconscious. That is her specialty after all. Nor do I blame her today. It was a lot of moving. Isn't it high noon now? We've been out already half the day! I'm starving!

And no Georgie to instantly serve and feed me either. Ah if he was here, certainly I would have forced him to suffer with me. Then save me! I'm so tired, thirsty, tired, and tired.

"Well, we can't have that. Upsie daisy." Grampa lifts and carries her off by the back of her dress. That way, Lilyanne just hangs there to dangle, like the smallest of handbags.

Such a pose would normally have my sister crying, for she much prefers to be carried by chest, but the last time she cried, Grampa responded with more forced running. If you have enough strength to cry, you have the strength to keep going. Such cruelty. I would like it more if I wasn't involved in it too

"A few more daily jogs and those muscles will get used to it in no time at all!" Grampa comforts awfully.

…Tough baby. Strong baby. Gonna be a badass little girl…. I can only cry silently to myself. I'll be so strong this time around. I'll have the glutes and endurance to finally outrun this crazy family.

"Is it bacon time?" Lukas asks, rubbing his belly.

"Oh no. It is lunchtime!" I gasp.

With the literal endurance marathon we just did, we kids are running on full empty here. Me especially. I even skipped breakfast and second breakfast to not barf on the way.

The hour is our undoing. It's the lunch rush!

Everything is far too busy or gone, straight up gone. The lines to the mess hall are practically walls of ravenous people. Abandon all hope!

That is if you were a common trooper that had to line up. Oh ho ho.

"Right! Let's get you kids something to replenish those muscles." Grampa shrugs.

Go on Grampa! Lead us to the VIP officer lounges! Go forth!....

"…This isn't a VIP lounge," I state, unimpressed how we're suddenly in line.

Grandpa led somewhere alright. Right around to a food stall.

Had us going all official to the nicer administrative parts of the troops, with the marble flooring and impressive column of architecture. Only to stop right at a little stall. The equivalent of a fast food cart or truck parked right outside some office buildings.

At least, the wait isn't long. The line moves quickly, I'll give it that.

There are three people visible behind the fast food stall. At the front would be a strong grumpy looking man, well past middle age. He works those hot and cold orders as if they had personally offended him, all while barking at the customers with military efficiency, no matter who they are.

"Get to it! Next! What do ya-....oh no…"

Till it comes to Grampa's turn that is.

"Hmmmmmm, umm, hmmmmmmm. Hi Charchar! " Grandpa takes his sweet time at the front.

"...why does it gotta be you? And don't call me that!"

"Hmmmmmm, now what do I want today?"

"How am I supposed to know!"

Ah Grampa, the most annoying kind of regular customer. Though that could just be because he's the literal boss of the place.

You can't just curse and shoo him out so easily. Then there's the fact that there are children hanging off of him. That makes it a bit awkward. Hello, please mind us yes. We're very cute and innocent.

"Hmmmmmm hmmmm right! We'll have three kids' meals extra sweet, a piping hot slop in large, a rainbow goat bowl, one Hercules Lion combo, and a poor man's purse. …" Grampa counts off slowly on his fingers.

".... what else?" the food stall man stares Grampa down as if he does this every time.

"Hmmm and a house wine!"

"....just that?"

"Yep!"

"Nothing else. Nothing you forgot. Nothing you're coming back for again and again till 10 minutes before we close? You always do that. "

"Nope!"

"ORDER READY AT THE WINDOW. "

"Thanks, Charchar! Put it on my tab!"

"You never pay anyways! Just go!"

"Say bye-bye to the nice yummy man, kiddos. Bye-bye, Char!"

Like a naughty child himself, Grandpa is shooed away while trying to get Lilyanne to wave. Lukas gives a screaming thanks before going to help himself, ahem, help- Grampa carry the food.

"Thank you for the meal, goodbye Professor Charvius." I curtsy politely, before running off myself.

"Yeah yeah just-...hey, wait a second!"

If there's anything Grampa is good at, it's recruiting like-minded weirdos. Don't mind the old officers and powerful people just casually doing random jobs around here. The troops are just weird like that.

Besides, he makes the most delectable roast meat soup! All filled with the little flavorful burnt ends, mmmm.

"Ooooh, an extra kid's meal. Thanks, guys!" Grampa loads up in the pickup section.

"We don't trust you, Lord Commander!" One of the men shouts out a mock salute, the other was laughing in the back.

Even the worst boss in the world has to get some perks.

Looking around, one can see the few nearby outdoor tables are all gone, and no one is jumping out of their seats to offer theirs to us. They very much could, and should do so, in front of the noble founder and his very delicate young grandchildren.

But it's Grampa, and he's a very bad example of anything. Too casual and absolutely crazy. Just look how his own staff treats him. Not that he doesn't deserve it.

The food looks good though, so off we go to one of the big stone benches to finally get some well-deserved rest.

A few tall and twisted trees offer a bit of shade with the modest support of a pergola in vines. The stones are simply carved but they're large and comfortable, with a beautiful view of much the rest of the lower parts of the troops below us.

The back top of the benches serves as a long table if I stand on top of the benched seating area. But I'm too lazy to keep standing any further. Up here the breeze feels good and the stones are warm. The perfect spot for a nap.

Grampa feeds us bits of my favorite soup, a colorful chickpea salad, lots of grilled and broiled meats, and even stuffed cheese pockets. However, I must keep my own 'kid's meal' safe and nearby. For Grampa is actually the greatest threat today.

It's an oddly modern-sounding name, but do not get confused. A kid's meal at the troops is not a child-sized and packaged meal, though it could be. Rather, it refers to a baby goat. No actual goats included.

Consisting of a warm tall cup of goat milk and a serving of yeasty disk of warmed-up bread, it makes a very popular snack or a small meal. The picky child's most basic combo. Ok, so maybe it is basically a modern kid's meal after all. Honey is added to the milk when ordered sweet, as Grampa wisely remembered to do, and that makes it all the better.

The problem is that it has bread, and Grampa really likes bread.

"Back! Back away!" I defend my share of bread.

"Awww, just one bite." Grampa bemoans, jaws way too close to me and my food.

"They gave you your own extra for a reason. Back!" I shout out.

Perhaps if I publicly shame him hard enough, he will learn his lesson. Perhaps not. Instead, Grampa moves over to Lilyanne. Rather violently though, she just boops him on the nose. Maybe she was brought back to life by cheese pockets?

"Back! One bite is too much, Grawmpy! It's all gone when you eat one bite." she hugs her share close, fearful from a lesson learned the hard way too many times.

Two down, one to go. At the rejection from his own blood, Grampa turns to pitifully receive the comforts of the loving and adorable Lukas.

Who stuffs the rest of his kid's meal into his now bulging mouth, before it's too late.

Everyone's bread is safe from this brute today, who can only sadly eat his own. That was a close one.

Thanks, Professor Charchar!

"Stop calling me th-... RON! WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING THOSE KIDS?!"

Everything is of course, naturally Grampa's fault. I've learned such bad habits, and tasty soup haunts, from him the first lifetime around. There's no need to feel any guilt. He really did teach me the wrong things!

Just enjoy lunch and the show of Grampa getting angrily chased around by his own people, preferably with a hot bbq poker. Quite fun! Especially after the torture, we went through this morning. A very welcome relief to have Grampa suffer, even if it's just a little.

When lunch is over, and every crumb of our fast food is gone and washed down, we finally decide to save Grampa. Or rather, we're just too bored to sit around and let everyone try to have turns attacking him. Trust me, a lot of people would like to hit my Grampa, if they could just get the chance to. There's just simply not enough time if we let everyone have a turn.

"Cap! We finished! And washed our hands too!" Lukas calls out.

"Lilyanne, don't nap like that. You'll get a tummy ache." I shake at my sister on the bench.

"But Lily sleepy." she tries rubbing her eyes.

"You were awake just fine for lunch," I respond to my sister.

"That is different, Rosa! Cheese and life and cheese and-" Lilyanne starts her debate.

"And no bacon on the bacon but it was still ok. I haven't had a kid's meal in a long time! Gable says that I don't need to eat mores when he feeds me but I think he just really likes his own baking-"

Before I am forced to stop this farce, Grampa runs to pick us up. With the power of young children shielding him, everyone must give up trying to attack him.

And look, he's even got extra bread to go.

Hmm is that considered theft? …Nah. All good when you're the terrible boss of this place. It will just go on his imaginary tab. That or uncle Geoff handles it? Alfonso? I'm really not sure.

"Whew, it's been a while. Always so grumpy when I don't visit. They must miss me that much, ha! And we're here, this door is good enough."

It seemed that Grampa ran away with no real direction in mind, but that wasn't the case. He stops us in front of a rather inconspicuous door, a smaller employee-only entrance on the side of a building.

Once again though, his status just makes every warning obsolete. I'm not sure how the security system works if it was anyone else breaking in. When Grampa does it, I feel and see the shocks of powerful electrical currents zap throughout the space. Only for the briefest, and brightest, moment, before it all goes back to normal. As if no one ever saw a thing out of space.

"Inside everyone, and no running off. Don't want you getting stepped on or buried in something. In in in." Grampa opens the door for us to file in.

"Ladies first!"

Lilyanne declares it proudly, though more like a child repeating something she's heard. While she does so though, that gives Lukas more than enough time to just walk through.

Guess he's the lady of the day then.

"Gasp! No fair!" my sister's mouth opens in shock.

"Just go. You're playing the wrong game with the very wrong people." I push my sister in.

The air is instantly cooler and somehow silenced.

Something as inconspicuous as the sound of footsteps is now very noticeable. Going from whatever was outside to the smooth expensive marble that makes up the floor. Black. Black and white. Swirling tiles and mosaic marble. The flow of occasional red stones makes a subtle directional pathway. It all leads to the grand hall.

Of the teller windows! Yep, the line of teller windows and more!

We're at the overall assignment, assessment, and administrative building. Where troopers and team leaders get all the important stuff done. No, not bashing some monsters or saving some screaming damsels. It's the "get the paperwork started and done" important. You know, the before, after of all the background work?

Yeah yeah, no one knows and no one cares. They can barely read the board in front. Everyone just wants to get straight to smashing something. Yeah yeah, I know, sheesh.

But wow, this place looks even larger and more impressive than I remembered it. Maybe it's been a while? Maybe it's because I shrunk too much. Both are a valid set of reasons.

"What are you doing here?!"

Speak about barely being able to read, it's the new definition of stupid, Greg-something. Whoopee. What a real coincidence, Grampa.

"I believe you're terribly confused. My family owns the place. Instead, we should be asking you what you're doing here." I cross my arms.

"We just had lunch!" Lukas greets.

"Yeah, and it was better than yours." Lilyanne can't help but taunt.

"Hey! It was not!" Greg-something begins to argue back.

"Yes it was~ "

Before we can really get this child feud going, Uncle Constantine soon rushes over, rightfully knocking Greg's little numb skull down to something of a greeting bow.

"Be nice!"

"Dad! His brain!" Mikhael screams from not too far behind.

Right. It's a whole family affair. Of course.

"A good day to you, uncle Constantine." I half curtsy, trying to keep it respectful yet casual.

He seems to prefer the clumsy but cute style of Lukas and my sister more. So that's what I have to work with.

Such a headache to alter my charming style per person or place, Lilyanne was always better at such social manipulations, but it must be done. The better graces I keep on other's minds, the better for me.

"And a good day to the young misses." the older man smiles down at us, hand firm on his younger child.

"I didn't even do anything. Why am I being treated like the criminal? She's right there, pffft." Greg complains a little too loud to be under his breath.

I heard that loud and clear, oh dumb child that can't tell a wanted sign from any other written material. Unlike you though, I can still keep up my manners.

"Yo! Constanny! Is your son all done registering and one of mine yet?" Grampa pops out, throwing his arm around the other man.

The gesture was friendly but with Grampa's strength, it could have very well been a threat. At least that statement was.

What does Grampa mean? Did Mikhael Doukas ever join the troops before? I don't recall this.

"Good greetings to the Lord Commander. We were just on our way." Mikhael politely greets and answers.

As they talk, I'm still scratching my head. Seriously, I'm trying to pull up the troop's registration list in my memory for any clues, but I'm still coming up blank.

Mikhael Doukas was probably already long gone, scandalously married, by the time my hands got that troops registration list. It's possible he was here for a bit? Neighborly internship? Part-time?

It's not a bad thing or anything? Yeah, I don't see why not. It would be interesting to see the elder Doukas brother in action, something I obviously missed out on.

Gregorious was quite the powerhouse warrior in my day. He was also infamously constantly compared to his brother by their own armed forces, a big determinant in the support of who would be the future Lord and heir. Supposedly he had yet to defeat Mikhael at that point. Given how intensely that full-grown Gregorious trained and fought, that could be saying a lot.

I'm curious. Do we have another potential berserker in our midst?

Honestly, though, it doesn't look likely. I don't wish to be mean but….Mikhael is a lot….leaner ..than both his father and a grown Gregorious.

"Well, what are we doing wasting time then? Let's get you official and loaded." Grampa exclaims.

He lets go of the father, only to entirely pick up the son with one arm. Mikhael Doukas looks like a cardboard cutout sign that way, as Grampa carries him off, his feet not even touching the floor. It's not a very impressive sight.

"Gasp. Lily too." my sister stares up, eyes following Grampa before turning to me suspiciously.

It doesn't take long for her to fail both trying to carry me and being carried by me, mainly because I refuse.

Bad Lily. Down girl! Not in front of guests!

"Awwww" she deflates in disappointment.

There is a brief moment where she turns towards Lukas as if contemplating if she can lift that lump of bacon. Blessedly, she has enough common sense to give up that thought, albeit with a big sigh.

"Let's go kiddos!" Grampa shouts out for us.

We can only follow Grampa's lead as he walks all the way down the big hall, barreling through what lines there are of the loitering people. There are plenty of open windows, if not plenty of people who have jumped out of the way to make an open window. None seem to interest Grampa, who only continues on his way. A one-track path to his destination.

A corner. A turn.

The busy hall loses its hustle and bustle. What awaits is a much smaller though no less grand hallway. The comparative quiet of it, paired with the warm dark wood, marble flooring, and low-lit lamps that scattered and flickered in candlelight behind their shades every so often, gives a much more cozy yet professional impression. There was no sign or barriers to indicate this area as any more special. It just feels that way, more exclusive somehow.

Even now, Grampa walks with purpose, up to the furthest wide window on one side. Large counter, warm wood dividers, and good lighting, it looks identical to the others. Except for the fact that it already has a customer there.

"It's my money, my credits, and my pay, why can't I take it out?"

"Your account will be insufficient after the next monthly billing cycle-"

"Come on. I can just take another mission for that. I have a month, right? Well, my buddy and his boy don't have a month to lose. What about the savings account?"

"Your savings protections account, which has safely deposited 40% of all mission rewards and pay, is not eligible for normal withdrawal. Only after administrative review can it begin the process of-"

"But you ARE the administration! Beatrix, please. I'm begging. I know there's a warm heart beating under all that.... It's an emergency! That poor sweet sick child-"

"An emergency. That is what you stated the last time your account went into the red, the time before that, and all the times before that. Please, sir, I would hope there is a shred of sense in that head of yours. "

"Beatrix."

"Sir. "

We hate to interrupt this intense staring match now going on but really, we don't care! It there is anything I can trust Grampa on, it's to not give any shits and burst into the scene inappropriately. Go Grampa, go! I choose you!

"What a coincidence! Ernie! All done getting rejected for the day? Great! Stick around. I could use you. You need another mission anyways. "

"Lord- Lord Commander?"

Grampa delivers all my expectations and then some. The hero standing at the counter is not small in stature. In fact, he stands a whole head taller than Grampa, and with the muscular bulk to fill it out too. Like a big college athlete, he looks to be in what I would guess to be his early 20s.

All that means absolutely nothing when Grampa just lifts the guy and moves him aside as if he were a stack of books or perhaps a traffic cone.

"Huh? What."

The confused trooper rightfully doesn't know what's going on. From one place to another in an instant. Just set on stand-by when Grampa points "Stay", and there's really nothing you can do when your crazy boss picks you out like that.

Tough luck.

"Good Blessings to you, as always, Lord Commander. How may I be of assistance to you today?" the teller behind the window doesn't even blink.

Grandpa never liked wasting time with formalities, though he does get distracted on the oddest tangents.

"We need to get this boy enrolled and officially badged up before his Pop there changes his mind! " Grampa exclaims, practically shoving Mikhael right on top of the window counter.

"Er- Um. Hello?" he gives an awkward greeting.

Uncle Constantine can only cough in the back. His face showed how much he regrets letting his eldest son under the care of such a crazy person, but that it is also too late for regrets. This obviously was not his first choice. Perhaps not his second either, or even third. How interesting.

"Certainly, Lord Commander. I will have the file loaded up shortly. In the meantime, may I trouble the young master of House Doukas to answer, fill and review these forms." the teller behind the window doesn't miss a beat.

Without a pause of respite, the next action or step is already being fulfilled. Even though I'm not so sure what work goes on back there. Magical office supplies maybe? I should look into that.

"Uh sure, but there's no need to refer to me by my family name. I'd- uh- much rather not use it." Mikhael requests.

He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck with one hand while taking a feathered pen with the other. His feelings don't come off as too out of place.

While we certainly get plenty of nobles who like to flaunt their family's power to squeeze out every benefit possible, we also see a reasonable amount of the opposite. As a young man of this age, he must have his own pride. This sense of making it on his own strength and independence. Very understandable.

Oh my, so that's what it is. Young Mikhael is going off to college and has chosen the troops. He's trying to break free!

No wonder uncle Constantine is tearfully choking back there.

"Now Mikhael, I don't want you to feel pressured or trapped in anyways. Of course, you should uphold your word and complete anything you swore to do but you are always welcome to come home at any time. No questions asked, No-" the man reaches a hand out to his son's shoulder.

"Dad. I'll be fine." Mikhael brushes him off, filling out both glowing and non-glowing forms.

Mmm sexy scary contracts. Getting in through the back door isn't any easier than the front one. Not that Grampa would ever make it easy for anyone, no matter who you were. Anyone who makes it into the troops, one way or another, has to be worthy or at least pretty resilient.

…Ok, there had to be some nepotism in my cousin Philippe's case right? Right?! …Well I guess he can take a beating.

"But if you ever need to-" the boy's Father starts to lecture Mikhael.

Tsk tsk tsk.

No need to be so emotional. It is good for children to get out and experience new things. How else will they learn? You can't hold them in the nest forever.

"...." uncle Constantine's jaw drops, his whole body freezing in place as he looks down at me in fear.

Huh? Is my hair messy? Something stuck on my face? Why-

"Ahahaha! You tell him Rosalia, my girl! I couldn't have said it better myself! How else will the young ones learn how to fly and navigate the skies?! Don't fret so hard Constantine, it's not like you're marrying him off." Grandpa laughs, smacking the other man in the back good-naturedly.

Oh. Whoops. Gotta watch that blasted mouth of mine.

"Don't worry! He's a big boy in a big place. He'll be fine. Better yet, he's certainly not you or his mother at this age!' Grandpa continues to badly comfort, dropping uncle Constantine's mood lower and lower.

Way to go Grampa, keep throwing salt at them.

As the adults do their thing, of course, the children can't stay quiet and still. In their own gaggle of a line behind them, Lukas and Lilyanne do a terrible job interrogating Greg. As in the manner of real little children though, it's a nonsensical blabbering.

"Are you staying in the troops too if your brother is?" Lukas asks naturally.

"Nah. I asked that too but my mom and dad says they needs me to be a man and stay home to protects them and stuff. Who else is gonna!?" Greg says, very sure of himself and whatever excuses his parents gave him regarding his child leash.

"Dat true. Lily must also stay to protect Mama and Rosa and Alfonso. Who else? Tsk tsk tsk, Papa trusts Lily so muchies." my sister nods, wise as a sage.

Or a fool. Same thing in her book.

"Oh." Lukas crosses his arms, a slight frown forming as he works his little brain too hard in deep thought. "My mommy is very bad, he ran off where I can't protect him!"

"Dat's bad. " Lilyanne continues nodding.

"You're just not that strong then. Not like me." Greg points to himself.

"My Mama loves me soooo much, she cries when she doesn't see me. Uh oh, mama crying without Lily now." Lilyanne brags.

"I think sissy cries for yours and Rosa's daddy more." Lukas brings up.

"Dat too. Lily's mama and papa are true love. True love is so hard apart Mama says! Soooooo romantic~."

"Ewwwww, girls are gross." Greg backs away.

"Yeah but that's Stinky and she's just extra gross," Lukas explains.

"You're extra stinky gross!" Lilyanne pouts back.

Gotta love kids and how they can keep going despite missing all the important points. Their recovery rate is truly amazing.

"...Uhhh- I'm still here?" The current trooper on standby awkwardly raises his hand.

"Stay!" Grampa orders again, not even looking over as he finalizes the paperwork with Mikhael.

I'm just a bored little girl stuck in between them all. Not grown up enough to be considered an adult, rather my actions strike fear and terror. Neither am I childish enough to fully integrate myself with the other children, though they certainly do try. My sister and Lukas often mention and pull me along in their nonsense.

Instead, I prefer to amuse myself with continued observation.

My attention goes not only back and forth between the two separate groups but the whole room. Sometimes I even squint to stare behind the teller windows. I really think improved office supplies, magical or not, would be a wonderful business opportunity. I also wonder where the teller gets her uniform from. Our troop's offices have surprisingly cute uniform pieces in place. We should make more cute uniforms a thing across the boards.

I was in the middle of trying to more clearly observe her hat and mantle, part of the winter gear I recall when I suddenly have a front seat view. Directly up and in front of the shocked teller. No need to stare up. My little butt was slightly cold on the counter where Grampa set me up.

"Grampa! Not so suddenly. A warning would have been nice." I shout, looking down at the big hands that haven't even let go of my little waist.

"Haha, that's a good girl, Rosa! Beatrix! Meet my baby eldest granddaughter! Or well officially. Don't worry, she doesn't bite!...Much. Rosalia, if you ever need anything when at the troops or when you make a booboo mess too big to clean up, come down to Bert's window here."

"Lord Commander. I advise you do not call me that. " the unimpressed teller reminds.

"She's one of our best! Really couldn't run the back trading desks so well without her! You can definitely trust and use her! Just don't get yourself into too much trouble now." Grampa pats at the counter repeatedly, as if he were a clapping seal and this was a good thing.

The unimpressed teller doesn't so much glare as much as she gives a him blank look that says she's dead inside. It is a fate she must have long resigned to though, for she just sighs and turns to give me a professional greeting.

"Good day to you, young Miss Rosalia Ventrella. It is an honor to be of any assistance, should you require me." she bows her head slightly, not a single hair or string falling out of place.

"And a pleasant day to you Ms. Beatrix. I apologize for the less than presentable first meeting." I attempt to greet back politely, unable to curtesy like this.

Curse Grampa for always ruining everything. I bite the inside of my lip even further when the wheels of my memory finally start turning at the call of that proper name.

That's Ms. Beatrix! The MVP office lady at the troops!

The poor hero in front of her window earlier really wasn't exaggerating. She is practically all the administration herself. Her stamp could be the difference between fast tracking you on all sorts of granted permissions and approvals or red tape crippling your file in the troops, forever.

Of course, she's much younger right now, and most likely not as far in her career.

The woman sitting in front of me right now seems to be in her mid-20s at the most. Her first impression is very clean, pretty enough but mainly too strict and intimidating to be messed with. Like how you wouldn't hit on your bank teller. Despite being unmarried, her neat brown hair was twisted fully up, in a style that was neither simple nor elaborate. A sign of girlishness still made itself known with light cosmetics on her face, and a sparkly decorative pin at the neck of her mantle. Perfectly pristine white gloves with delicate stitches only highlighted the respectability of her position. I have no doubts though that the hands underneath were also just as clean and well manicured as the rest of her.

She always did her work well, above and beyond. A truly frightening woman but a gold treasure of an employee. No matter how much the original Rosalia tried, or offered to pay, she couldn't ever poach Ms. Beatrix from Grampa. What charms did that crazy old man cast?

Oh well, at least I know I can save myself some wasted shame and effort.

"Isn't our Rosieposiewosie such a cutiepatootie! Now she's a handful but don't mind it too much. She just has too much going on in that cute little head of hers. It's quite painful." Grampa pats my head a little roughly, leaning against the counter as he smiles.

There's a moment, a pause. Ms. Beatrix seems to gasp, or at least breathe in a little too sharply. Her dark eyes widen for the briefest of moments, staring down at us despite Grampa violently rubbing my hair.

"Grampa! Ow, no you're making it messier. I barely just fixed it after this morning!" I screech when I feel that cursed frizz of my mother's curls becoming more pronounced.

"I hope you understand, Beatrix." Grampa laughs, light and easy as the breeze.

It's stupid how easy he seems to have it. Ow ow ow, Grampa my hair!

"Of course, Lord Commander."

I can hear her smile more than I can see it, not with the way Grampa keeps messing with me. That slight and mysterious mature smile. When I look up, it's very similar to the one I remember of Ms. Beatrix of the future. Very similar, but not quite.

"...Do you like lip tint? In brighter colors, like red." I find myself asking before even thinking about it.

Oh, why did I say that?

The young office lady in front of me instinctively covers her mouth, as if to say 'oh my'. White gloves eventually fall to reveal a slightly larger smile on light pink lips.

"How astute, my young miss. Why yes, I am a woman, and we tend to like pretty things. If I get the chance, I would not be against purchasing something in a good red." she responds.

Ms. Beatrix was a competent woman, who liked and didn't deny the little pleasures in life. She liked little treats and accessories. She was looked up to by all her colleagues and subordinates. She boldly wore fashionable lip colors to work. She wasn't easy to scare.

It was a shame then, what happened to her. How she had to retire early. It's a shame she didn't feel safe.

Right.

Something like that happened. Something that cost the troops one of our best employees.

She didn't feel safe working anymore. But why was that? Why can't I remember? It was a rather important incident. As the heiress, Rosalia should have read the reports, I certainly did.

Is there something wrong with my memory? Am I just overthinking it too much? Or did I really forget?

…It will come to me eventually? Right?

I can trust my own memories, right?

"Head hurting kiddo? Grampapa is sorry! We'll toughen that little skull up! Don't worry! You're nowhere even done growing it!" Suddenly, I am lifted into the air again, spun even, at high speed.

Damn it Grampa!

"Looks fun!" Lukas exclaims.

"Lily too! Lily wants a turn too!" my sister jumps up and down, demanding to be a part of this chaos.

"I just ate!" I scream, smacking my hands on his big stupid arm.

Only after both Lily and Lukas somehow hopped on, riding this death trap for a good bit, does Grampa slow enough to release us like the dizzy spinning tops we are. It's so bad I think Lukas and I headbutted each other. Ow ow, OW.

"Uh, should I do something about them?" the big trooper makes to move to us.

"Stay! Well, that should do it! " Grampa points at him again, then turns back to the teller window, confirming things.

"Yes, Lord Commander. As for young Mikhael Doukas, your custom badge order has been submitted. It will certainly be ready for pick up in three days. In the meantime, here is your temporary license."

"Great! Take this and don't lose it! This will keep you safe from your family!" Grampa urges, taking the temporary badge pin and putting it on Mikahel himself.

"Thank you grand Lord Vent-ahem I mean sir!" Mikhael smiles and salutes.

"Daaaaaw you're so cute for a big boy. Where do you get it from?" Grampa finds a new victim to pinch and pull some cheeks.

Good. I'm too dizzy to be it today. Blurg, my kid's meal, don't come back up on me.

"Teee heee, you have a good leg." my sister giggles unsteadily, holding on the trooper's leg to stabilize herself.

"Thank you?" he looks down at her, though he also worriedly stares at where Lukas is running into a column. Ouch.

"These guys are weird. I feel bad for you being stuck here." the only other child says to his brother.

How rude. We don't want you either.

"See! See, she did it again, that criminal girl is super mean! I told you." Gregorious goes tattling.

Even a boring day at the troops can not be truly safe, or good for anyone's sanity. Why must we always be such a hot mess? Sorry indeed Mikhael, for joining into this for the foreseeable future. There is nothing to be done about the insanity. Just hang on and hope to make it out alive.

"Okay okay, we've dawdled here long enough. There's the rest of the day to get to. Thanks, Beatrix. Come on Ernest, you've done well sitting and staying for so long. Let's go exercise you with our fresh newbie a bit." Grampa rounds us all up to go.

"Oh, is that what you need me for? Certainly, Lord Commander." the tall hero called Ernest happily responds, glad to finally be allowed to move.

Wait. Ernest?

One of the staple pillars of the troops in his generation? A textbook case of a successful hero and poster boy of the troops. Our stable money, fame, and workhorse? That Ernest? But…

I look up in disappointment and even more disappointment. The young man that stands before us now...he's a bit of an idiot…and it shows.

I don't know what I expected. Someone more mature? More….impressive? Sorry. I shouldn't judge our people too hard. They're Grampa's fault in some way. I suppose that's a good thing I'm not impressed. That means this young man has a lot to look forward to in his growth and career. A lot can happen in 10 or 13 years after all.

Though wasn't there some rumor about the hero Ernest, for all his goodness, being an absolute scammable idiot if you have a good enough sob story?

Oh, now that I can somehow remember just fine. Just great. Better go poke Alfonso for gossip of all things to help jog the original's memory. Easier said than done.

Do I just go "Excuse me Alfonso, our too perfect and overworked house butler to my shady Father, care to run me down the latest and longest running juicy local gossip? I need them. For reasons." That's Georgie's forte, but he's not even around to be useful!

"Hmmm. Kinda. Sorta. I need you not just to be a magical moving punching test rack but also an assistant tour guide. As you can see, I not only have the kiddies with me but a lot of guests. Can't risk losing them down the new dungeon. Seriously, Maria will skin me alive if I lose the twins down there." Grampa explains to his employee a bit fearfully.

"Uh, is it even a good idea to allow them down there in the first place then?" Ernest questions.

"Probably not. But the access line has already been booked! Might as well. Besides, what if they find their way down there without any supervision? They are their mother's children after all. Now when she was their age-"

Did I hear him correctly?

Are we going to see our little dungeon today? It's clear and good to go. Whoopee! Today isn't wasted in suffering after all.

What an initiation! Lucky you Mikhael.

What are we waiting for? There's a lot of work to do, so much to inspect.

We have spiders and eels. Our eels are very yummy. Once we get them sustainably breeding, it will be even better. Oh, and I need to take notes for my plans today. Can't forget about office supplies improvement. The back offices are just as important, perhaps even more so than our battle forces. Lots of notes to work on and remember for later. I'll get to it all eventually.

Oh, hurry up Grampa! Onwards.

Good news and bad news. There really is never a boring day here.

—--

—---------------------

Lead. His legs felt like lead. Maybe something even worse, even heavier. It was as if he were walking not on his own legs but perhaps the thick lifeless column that held up the Ventrella villa and troops. Just clopping along clumsily on planks.

He wonders if the thoughts of Ventrella villa make it better or worse.

On one hand, it was a welcome relief to be anywhere but here, even if it was just mentally. Anywhere but this dense burning humid hell of exertion and pain. It was like being trapped in a giant pickling vat with no way out. He was fermenting in this thick haze of his own sweat.

But on the other, it made him want to cry for his bed. For a rest. His corner of the kitchen. His little vanity project was Rosalia itself.

Oh, Rosalia would die out here, he couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

She would scream, cry and make such a terrible mess of herself out here. He couldn't even imagine how much his young miss would scream when her hair curdled dramatically into an unmanageable bush in this humidity. Or when her tender expensive young miss skin is boiled and welted up under all these blood-sucking bugs. The sheer endurance of having to go and keep going. All without an adequate break stop in any manner or form of luxury. It would kill her indeed.

It was certainly killing him.

"Come on Georgie! I can see something up ahead. "

Amar was very cute. Georgie really likes Amar. He does but the kid was just so active.

Maybe he was light, too light. That's how he could seemingly just run and skip across this mountain so easily. His weight was nothing. He could maneuver around, climbing and running, as if it was nothing. It was both concerning as it was enviable.

What Georgie wouldn't give right now to collapse under the cool shade of a flowing fountain back home. Perhaps with those cold glasses of sweet sweet juice and the Lady of the house's most delectable tea treats that Rosalia let alone Lilyanne never finished eating anyways.

Oh, even their leftovers had him spoiled. He admits it.

He's spoiled off tea time and emergency buttons that call for highly trained guards the moment that something goes wrong.

Well, it's been going wrong, and obviously, the emergency button is out of range. He doesn't think he's in Ventrella land anymore. He doubts he's even on the same continent anymore.

What gave it away? The tiger? The monkeys? The wild exotic flora and fauna?

Georgie slaps himself in the face with a single expression. He's too tired to react.

When he removed his palm, a spot of red blood splattered and remained. He couldn't even shudder, let alone scream, in despair about how mosquitos seemed to exist here too. Perhaps everywhere. Was nowhere safe from their itchy hungry little needle mouths?

What a small world after all. The international experience of mosquitos.

"We're close. Come on Georgie, we're really close." Amar cheerfully called for him from ahead.

Ah how Georgie envied him. Such youth. To be so young and alive.

Though Georgie doubted he was ever like that when he was a young kid. What was he even doing at that age? Running errands between the brothel women or around the port? Yeah, that sounded about right.

Of course, there really was no comparison. Georgie didn't focus too hard on it but he knew there was a key magical difference between him and Amar. Or Lukas. Or just anyone. Like, say the fact he didn't have any.

It wasn't transmutation alchemy. Of course, he knew. It just didn't matter when all those kids were just kids and he was the older adult figure looking out for them. That was just natural. Magical endurance training or not.

So Georgie did his best this 'trip', he really did.

It didn't matter if Lord Ventrella had planned to send Amar here on purpose or not. They were lost in a wild land with countless dangers and no other people. Of course, Georgie was going to take it upon himself to lead and keep Amar safe. Even if the kid could kick a tiger and live. That's just the way things were supposed to be. The old and wise look out for the young.

But something also told him that Amar could easily leave him in the dust… or jungle…whatever this place was. Most likely be swinging too far on one of those damn vines. Damn kids, so light. So monkey-like.

Yeah, Georgie wasn't swinging like that. Quite done with that. One wrong move and you lose not only all the progress getting up this damn mountain, but quite possibly your life. Death by rolling down a mountain. Mmmmm, fun.

Almost as fun as all these damn mosquitos. Death by itchy annoyance.

He was making himself depressed.

"Amar! If we'll reach it, we'll reach it. Don't tire yourself out in this place. Come back and drink something." Georgie called out tiredly.

He's been tired. Just breathing in this heat was tiring. But not even a death god was going to get him to just let Amar casually swing or skip himself to death. Possibly face first.

It's been a treacherous last few days full of learning curves. But Georgie did learn. He learned how to walk through this terrain, dense and full of hidden dangers. He learned how to alternate between shade and salt tablets to keep from drying out into a withered husk. He even learned about so many new species of things that could eat you, head-on!

Mostly though, he learned that Amar was a handful, and he didn't have enough hands.

"...Amar?" he couldn't hear the boy respond.

The worst-case scenario was that something terrible happened to the kid. But he didn't hear anything, and in a crackling jungle like this, you hear quite a lot. The more likely scenario was that Amar just saw something interesting and went to check it out. Which was also bad because that little boy would pet a tiger like it was a kitty or lick a poisonous neon toad for fun. For fun?!

See Rosalia never did that. Because she would just die doing something so stupid.

It's the weirdly magically resilient ones that were the worst because they'll just test the absurd limits of his heart. Give him that heart attack. Then keep doing what stupid things there were doing!

He kinda wishes he had Lukas at this point. For all the hustle and bustle and bruises, Lukas was actually reasonable to control. You say stop, and he stops. You say go, well off he went. Hell, maybe Georgie could take advantage of that superhuman strength and just have Lukas carry them both over this damn mountain.

Not the same case here.

"Amar, this isn't funny. " Georgie was beginning to worry.

His brain was running all the scenarios of what could be wrong. Did another man-eating plant creep up around them? Did a flying something swoop down and found Amar as some easy prey?

Did Amar's blood sugar drop again?! He forced-fed the kid 3 or so hours ago! ….But they did do a lot of sweating and burning….Oh no.

While Georgie was very glad that most children didn't have Rosalia's stubborn streak of skipping her naps till she passed out, it seemed that every child was going to have their checks and balances. Their own little ticks and habits that Georgie so wonderfully got to learn, the hard way.

For example, Amar's sweet sweet love of sugar wasn't just another childish fault of sweet-toothed children. If it wasn't obvious enough over the days, a hatefully detailed instructional pamphlet in that shady woman's handwriting was provided in one of the emergency packs hidden in Amar's anklet. A little silver and bell studded band right underneath where Amar kept his troops' badge. Now, where did that come from? Hmmm.

Georgie hated Cass.

Not just because she nearly choked him to death with some supernaturally freaky mysterious magic. Damn magic users. He hated how that woman practically saved their lives with her perfect packing skills. It was frustrating. Good and frustrating. More pettily he was pissed how he had to carefully read her notes as if they were his only survival guide. Which they were.

Especially on how to deal with Amar.

He would think about whether to thank her or not after he got out of here. But first, he needs to find Amar and feed that kid another cookie. It's been 3 hours!

"Please don't be passed out in a ditch. Please don't be passed out in another ditch face first!" Georgie sped up, muscle cramps be dammed.

If Amar fell asleep from another blood sugar crash, then they were basically done for the rest of the day. The kid wasn't waking up for hours and even then, he wouldn't be fully awake and alert for another two after that.

This was much much worse than when Rosalia or Lilyanne skipped their nap time, so much worse.

"Amar! Where are you-" he stumbled out into a clearing, practically tripping himself.

It was just such a sudden change from the thick upclimb and dark gravel to ….nothing? Sure the ground was still hard and rocky but…there was space. Clear, open, empty space.

There he could see Amar's still figure not far away. The boy's dark brown hair rustled in the wind that was blowing down the mountains, his head tilted back as he just stood and stared. Up. He was looking up. That's when Georgie saw it too.

"Holy smoked goat. " Georgie felt his jaw drop.

People. Things. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, something he was entirely unable to describe at this moment. Layers of walls and strange architecture were clear from this angle. It was as if a whole village was hidden and fitted into this mountain, tiny dots of people walking its paths. Even at this distance, he could see it was not only massive but intricately designed. At the top, clouds blurred his vision, but the lush greenery peaked out as if there were trees of emeralds.

"Told you we're close. " Amar smiled at him, and Georgie would dare to call it a bit cheeky.

The look suited him. He finally looked more like a lively child his age. Though that could have been from the cookies Georgie was previously waving about.

"Ohhh what flavor are those? Hmmm not bad. A bit dry but not bad."

That was when both Georgie and Amar jumped.

The cookies had disappeared right out of Georgie's hands. Hands that were now scrambling to pick up Amar, the child half hiding from the stranger's sudden appearance. His large green eyes were staring suspiciously at the old man, while his face looked unwell as if he had truly not seen or sensed anyone else coming.

"Oh. Don't mind me. An old man gets a bit peckish waiting. Not bad at all. " the old man munched, his long grey beard moving comedically as he chewed, a handkerchief of the little stolen treats still in his open palm.

He wore strange clothes and acted stranger but what stood out the most was maybe the brightly shining bald head. This was a man who had not had hair in a long time. While the rest of his exposed skin was wrinkled dark with time, only the top of his head stood smooth and vigorous looking. An orb shining with mystery or marble wax.

"Who are-...you've been waiting? Were you sent by Lord Ventrella?" Georgie took the initiative to ask.

Georgie figured with that speed, and presence, such a senior citizen was an expert of some kind. If he had wanted to harm the two of them, he would have already done so.

"Lord whosie what? Oh no, that Ron boy hasn't visited in years- oh right. Right. Ron's girl. They got married in such a way. Time flies. Now I remember when…" the old monk started to ramble.

That was, till his eyes looked upon them. Really looked. It was hard to tell with his age, but his eyes reddened for a moment, as he took a slight breath.

"...I remember when…your mother was hardly much bigger than you are now boy. " his speech slowed, and he smiled gently where he stood, staring.

"Mother?" Georgie's hold tighten on Amar, who stayed stiff in his arms.

"....you knew my Mama?" Amar couldn't help but take the bait.

"Careful. " Georgie whispered.

He pressed his face close to his Amar's, not to let the other man hear them, though that may have been a lost cause. Most certainly though, he was not letting go.

"Well yes, that brat took years off my life from frustration alone haha!" the old man laughed. He held up his fingers, gnarled like the roots of an ancient tree, and pressed them to the sides of his temple, his eyes. "You look like her. Right around here. "

Georgie noticed how Amar balled his hands into his shirt. How tense the boy in his arms was, yet how curious. How curious and delighted when Amar's sleepy green eyes brightened like stars on a clear summer night. They turned to the monk, his gaze following every single little move the old man made.

"And a little around here. " the old monk traced down his own face, laugh lines deep as he made a strange expression.

It could have been an attempt at being silly. It certainly looked ridiculous. Amar giggled regardless.

He feared for him.

Georgie suddenly feared for Amar so much more than himself.

This was going to hurt. Long lost truths always did. Especially when it pertained to mothers. Wherever they were, whatever was meant for him, that was going to hurt terribly.

"...She stood there once. When she first came…all alone…but you're not. Good. It's good to have companions in this world. It's good. Come, children. You have come a long way and I'm afraid you will still have to go a bit more. " the old monk spoke no more, only turned to lead the way.

The two looked at each other for a brief moment, even though they knew there really was no other path to take.

"Ready?" Amar loosens the grip of his hands, bringing them to Georgie's face.

The comfort of those two small palms reminded him of his spunky little young miss. He wonders if he'll be around to see her hands grow this large. What his family was thinking or doing with his disappearance? Were his grandparents worried? Were they going to be alight? What he was all missing. If he'll make it back. He wonders if he'll ever make it back.

"Ready if you are." he lies, soft and comforting to Amar's face in front of him.

The boy nods and wiggles to be let down, but his small hand interlaces with Georgie's. They weren't letting go yet. They weren't ready, not really, and they were doing this anyways.

"Come now, children! Don't let this slow old man at the end of his twilight brush leave you too behind. Show some youth!" the monk called from an absurd amount of stairs above them.

Stairs built into the very stone of the mountains themselves. Built and buried to a very narrow but seemingly the only path. No way left to go but up.

"...That's a lot of stairs. " Amar looked up, stating the obvious.

"..." Georgie didn't even have the strength to sigh at the winding horrors awaiting them.

This was just going to hurt regardless. Oh, his legs.