A Parent's Love (Backstory 2)

As Sam quietly entered the room, Lucius looked up from the fire he was starting. Theirs was a dilapidated hut made of rotten wood and a straw roof, yet the redeeming part was that they had a merry fire-place that brought joy and warmth to the bitter cold of the night. It was very kind of the shrine to let them use the back gardens bordering Ol' Yore Forest to take shelter. Though they probably didn't expect him to build a permanent house and stay for 5 years. Lucius chuckled. It was a mark of old-age, he guessed, this shamelessness. And also the acceptance of every little thing as a kindness and blessing was surely a mark of his age. Old age - and poverty.

"Ahh my child, you're late this evening. Where have you been? There is ample bread and stew tonight – Mr's Magda was so kind to give us the leftovers from their son Bob's celebration. Have you heard? The boy was accepted into the town guard. Perhaps there he will learn that self-control precedes power, and that his size won't keep him alive for long."

Lucius' brows furrowed into a frown as the child walked by silently. Though Sam was sometimew silent, today she felt… Different. She did not look sad, nor did her usual joyful self. Was the child confused?

Sam trudged over to where the food was, scrutinizing the food for a long while, before she picked up the half-loaf of bread and the bowl of thin broth. The food today was good, the broth even had two pieces of unidentifiable vegetables and a lump of tough meat in it. She ate in silence, though she wasn't hungry, she obeyed grandpa who told her to always remember to eat. Soon she was chomping away happily at the meagre food

Lucius was concerned at the child's change of mood. Though she was always quiet, slow and… Well, quite dull. Sam was also cheerful, joyful and inquisitive in her own way. Even when she had been beaten up, chased out of town, and even thrown into the river, coming ashore on the river banks by the sea, Sam had always returned with a smile on her face and a good yarn to spin. A short yarn, but a good one. And a long session of "Why?" that every young child should ask.

Lucius smiled at the thought, Sam was his only joy left. He would have to get to the bottom of this change of heart. For now, Lucius just watched the child eat, giving her time to digest the food, and digest whatever thoughts plagued her.

Sam wiped up the last of the broth with the bread, and downed them both. She then proceeded to wash the bowl in the little stream trickling through the forest about 500m away, then she returned to wash up, taking great pains to avoid a spot on her right cheek. She then returned to where Lucius was, deep in thought, nearly tripping over the pile of books on the floor, so preoccupied was she.

Settling down onto the floor beside Lucius, she spoke for the first time this evening.

"Grandpa, what am I?"

Lucius raised his eyebrows in curiosity at this question.

"Why, you're my grandchild! A blessing to the Urth and the Endless Worlds, just like me! Born to love and not hate, born to live and someday die. You're a bonafide person!"

"What does bonafide mean?"

Lucius chuckled. He was glad that the child was just as curious and inquisitive as ever. "Bonafide means... Real. Real, genuine or true."

Sam paused for awhile, still deep in thought. After a long moment, she asked, "What are demon-child?"

Once again surprised, Lucius still found the presence of mind to correct the child's mistake. "What are demon-children, you mean." Lucius paused, giving some thought to the matter – he knew what the townsfolk called Sam. Yet, could he really avoid giving Sam the truth of the matter?

Lucius put one arm round Sam's shoulder, drawing Sam close to his side. "Now, I want you to know that, no matter what the people say about you, you're not a demon-child, is that clear?"

Realising that Lucius was waiting for a response, Sam nodded in acceptance. Lucius then continued, "A demon-child is a human that portrays demonic aspects. Things like looking like a demon or acting like one. That is what a demon-child is like." Lucius paused once again, to allow Sam to ask questions.

"Grandpa?" Sam looked at Lucius with clear, innocent eyes. "What are demons?"

Lucius widened his eyes in surprise, realising he had not yet taught the child about creatures of the other realms. About the other species living on Urth, he had taught Sam. But he had not wanted to teach Sam about the creatures of the Other.

Stretching over to the books behind him, Lucius picked up the thickest book, treating it with reverence. As poor as they were, Sam always wondered where grandpa got all these books from. Probably stolen from the library; from the labels on them.

Flipping through the pages, he searched for the correct entry.

"Give me a moment, my dear, this is an ancient artefact of the olden era, preserved by bibliognost's of the god of knowledge. It has been awhile since I looked through it... Ahh! Here it is!" Lucius set the ancient tome down with great care. The spine of the book read: "Wikipedia: The Book!"

He made sure that the fire gave decent illumination and beckoned Sam over. As Sam peered into the pages, she saw the many, many pictures and illustrations of creatures eerie and horrifying. Entries like "Demigorgon", "Orcas" or "Archiemonday". Even Lucius could not help but shudder – he despised having to deal with such creatures. He was surprised though, to see that Sam seemed to not be disturbed. In fact, he could see that Sam was relieved of whatever had been burdening him.

"I'm not like them, am I?" Sam asked.

Lucius could only smile, "No, child, you are nothing like them, though it is not only the similarity in appearance that would cause someone to be called a demon. Demons... Are vile, cruel, evil. The people who exhibit such characteristics are often called demons. But you? You, my dear, are my angel! My sunshine of joy."

Sam looked aside for a moment, mind working, yet the thoughts not changing his expression. Perhaps Bob was a demon-child? Maybe Bob was lonely, and wanted someone to be like him too. Was that why Bob always called him demon-child? Was he lonely? Then Sam paused.

"What are angels?"

Once again Lucius chuckled, glad to see his ward's spirits lifted. "Ahh, I should have anticipated such a question. Well... for this… Rather than a picture in a book…" He paused, his expression grave yet nostalgic.

He sighed. "It should be time?" He closed the artefact and softly chanted "Kcolb-da Elbasid", a simple spell to protect the precious tome.

He took a deep breath and looked at Sam, who looked at him in curiosity. "Rather than a picture, hold that necklace around your neck, yes, the one I gave you when you were little, and say out loud, "Veritas", and in your mind, think about the word angel".

Sam, curiosity burning in her heart, did as told. She grasped the simple necklace in his hands, the locket held tightly, and she exclaimed, "Veritas!" as she set her mind on the word angel. She gasped in surprise at what happened next, and nearly jumped from where she was seated.

Though her eyes were wide open, and she was wide awake, it was as if she were in another place. She could see her grandpa beside her, she could even see their little hut. Yet at the same time she was seeing visions of someone else, someone with golden hair, deeper gold than the Uros gold that Bob had, with a warm smile, warmer than even the fire that burned merrily in their home.

She had a voice like singing, like a river flowing gently down a hill, like bells ringing in the church. She held him tightly on her lap, warmly in her embrace. Her grip was firm yet gentle, her voice soothing. Sam could hear her heart-beat, could feel her own heart beating in tandem with hers. She smelled like the fields, like the trees and rivers and nature that she loved so dearly, yet Sam knew she loved her even more than all these. She released Sam from her embrace, only to look her deep in the eyes. Sam frowned in confusion. She smiled so widely, but there were tears flowing down her cheeks.

As abruptly as the vision began, it ended. All too soon, too suddenly, Sam was back in their home. Sam felt wetness on her cheeks; she reached up and realised that tears were flowing incessantly. Sam could remember exactly what she looked like, and could remember the great yearning in her heart for the lady. Of the words she had spoken in her soft, musical voice, she only understood two. Still the words rang in her ears, a whisper as gentle and comforting as the early autumn winds that carry falling leaves.

My daughter.

As the girl wailed, at a sorrow too great for any child or adult, Lucius held her tight to his chest. For the girl who had grown up not knowing mother nor father, not knowing any place to belong, Lucius could only hold and try to comfort. He could not give the love of a parent, but he had given all the love he could as a grandfather. All he could do was teach her to protect herself from the outside world, teach her as he had told Bethany he would. Yet what had been lost, would never be recovered. He had already failed to protect her from such sorrow.

As the sobs and cries of a forlorn child continued on, piercing the air on this quiet night, the rest of the world nonchalantly proceeded on, with fathers merrily playing with their sons, and mothers combing their daughters hair.