Stringies

"Diggwy!"

"Yes, that right my pumpkin pants Lilyanne~ All you larvae hear that! My darling precious adorable baby granddaughter says DIG. Dig as if your lives depend on it!"

"Pantsies! Dig dig dig dig digwy!"

"Put your thighs and buttocks into it! If it doesn't burn and burst in agony you're not giving your all! These holes won't dig themselves now dig!"

Dozens of people, dozens of holes.

They were spread far out across the northern grounds outside the encampment, looking to me much like bugs. Each bug burrowing into as much hard nasty dirt as they could. Exhaustion and filth already weighing on most of them.

Those who started strong, arrogant even, now broken by the tedious act of digging. Their rural spades heavy, the earth below thicker and heavier the deeper they get. Sometimes they would even find a 'surprise' down there!

An extra hard piece of rock or bedrock? Biting ants? Exploding stink bugs? An unidentifiable skull? Who knows!? It's a surprise.

No really, no one knows. It's empty land for the troops expanding into the forests. I think grampa does this to save on construction costs and labor.

On a tall shaded platform sits not only grampa and uncle Geoff but an elder few instructers of the troops. Two sets of long tables are set with finely embroidered cloth, well-carved silverware and a light but extravagant selection of refreshments. From the pitchers of good wine and overflowing fruit bowls to the barrels of honey mead and bubbling beers. Something that I swore....was never so fizzy? Hey grampa, did you steal my knock off soda before I could patent that? Grampa?!

Noticeably, it presented in a much fancier style that is seen daily and generally preferred around here. Of course, those below don't know that. They're all strangers. The scene of the troop walls already dazzling to them, let alone this courtly platform filled with what is essentially a bunch of respected celebrities in this world. The splendor of the banners, flowers, and just overall construction keeps them digging.

It's part a picnic viewing as well as the full judgment of the senior troops on the pathetic bugs digging below.

The first part of this season's recruitment.

"Keep digging!~" cheers grampa, making a stupid face as he keeps playing with a giggling toddler.

If anyone had any dreams, any fantastic illusions, about joining the troops alongside the great hero, perhaps proving their worth by slaying a great big scary monster....well...reality sucks. Hope they wake up a little.

Who would have thought that the first test to join the hero's encampment was to dig holes? No real rules, not much further instruction, and definitely no idea they're just being used as free labor at this point. They were given a shovel, told to pick a spot in this pathetically half cleared lands, and just forced to dig.

This is awful. Just awful.

It's bring your grandchild to work day again and I'm here to witness all this horror.

By that I mean it's just grampa dragging around my sister and I. Playing mascot instead of doing anything productive. Most of the time we're not even on the viewing platform, which is very comfortable and cushioned, but rather on the dusty ground. Hopping from one hole to another, watching to suffering soles.

I'm back at the campgrounds today instead of trapped by either one of my ....doting...parents. But at what cost?

What have I ever done deserve this much punishment? This much grounding? In this life at least. I'm still so young and innocent. Only three years already and already treated like a felon.

Sure I'm not being treated as awfully as the newbie grunts forced to dig but my torture is a whole different layer of hell.

My favored little sister sits free. Walking around where she so pleases when Grampa puts her down from the shameless baby sling or the seat in his muscular arms. The true little princess of this land, reigning over the subjects.

Then there's me.

The joke.

On the leash. No really, there's a toddler leash on me.

Wrapped around my armpits and chest is a harness with a bungee cord like leash. The other end of said leash leading to none other than the crazy old man, my unfortunate relations in this life, who thinks this is even okay?!

Abuse! Humilation! Oppression!

Why am I on a toddler leash?!! Where did it even come from? Why can't I get it off? So many questions never enough answer with grampa.

"Diggy wiggy Rosa lookie heehee." Lilyanne tries pulling me up from where I mope.

If anyone noticed a cute clapping toddler girl in their suffering, prowling the grounds with the not so great hero, they will, unfortunately, notice me as well. The other one. Getting dragged on by leash. I look like a toddler throwing a bad tantrum.

Even if I stubbornly sit on my butt, just lay on the floor refusing to be seen, the cord will eventually run out and pull taut. Then I'm literally being dragged on the ground.

Oh the shame.

"You see that! You're all so pathetic! Even my tiny itty bitty squishy pumpkin of a granddaughter could do a better job digging! With nothing but her bare face! Good job Rosa!"

I'm really not. Grampa please drawing attention. Please let the earth bury me and my shame in peace.

I don't want to be here. Not like this. Send me back to the nerd if you're going to make a zoo monkey out of me. Dear gods of this insane world, why did you ever allow the invention of the toddler leash?

"Up up! Rosa uppy! So manies! One souwl two souwl um who comes after two?"

"...Three Lily. After two comes three, then four. It's holes not souls...actually never mind. One soul, two souls, what comes next?"

"Two hungereds!"

".....sure. Two hundred hungry souls. Offered to in blood and dirt to build our playground."

"That's my girls!" yells back Grampa from a distance away, being a general bad influence. The limit to the toddler leash was already tight.

"Yaaaaaaay! Pway pway pway." cheers Lilyanne.

It's so adorable how she pushes a mound of dirt back into someone's hole that I almost forget my misery on the toddler leash. Nothing like cuteness and the suffering of others. Yep.

At my amusement and willingness to sit up and watch her, Lilyanne gleefully knocks over more dirt piles. More mildly inconveniencing the recruits rather than any real sabotage. When someone accidentally looks up in their hole at the right moment to get a mouthful of dirt I even grace her with a smile. Positive reinforcement is important for children after all.

Even tied up I still find ways to corrupt my easily impressionable sister. So sweet and dumb, let's see how this protagonist keeps up her perfect reputation over the years. Ah yes, I'm so evil.

I kid, if only it was that easy. That's why I need to work long term on saving my own skin. Anyone with a protagonist halo can do no wrong. Does that make sense? Of course not. But after dying so many times as I have, you just give up and roll with it.

It's all okay since she's so ridiculously cute. Cruel and unfair but hey when has life ever been fair?

Cuteness does rule the world.

Lilyanne is slowly learning better moderation when she zaps all her excess magical mana out. She no longer passes out into a battery nap immediately after and even has the strength to play around like this. What good progress, she's getting stronger.

"Pasta! Lily like yummy chewsie wit pasta! Tummy go grrrwww like diggies."

"Yes yes yes pasta is yummy, let's get the kitchen to make us pasta later," I assure her.

Even if I can't fully understand it's important to encourage small children. It helps build their brains and heaven knows my twin needs it. It's painful to imagine how lacking her development last time went.

Pasta does sound yummy right now, especially with a good dippable sauce. You can never go wrong with pasta. In this blessed land of course there's pasta. Huzzah!

Ah...but do we have spaghetti? Fettuccine yes. Linguine yes. But nothing mechanical or tube-like. All pasta here is manually knife cut or dumpling shaped, not that there's anything wrong with that. It's all fresh and delicious if a lot of hard work. You had to make the dough, keep flouring it, cut and press it all into the right shapes if not just knife it up into strips or triangles.

Hmmm, would a pasta machine be too much right now? A hand crank one? Then we can have macaroni and an easier time. That's more forms of slurpable nood-"

*slurp*

The sudden sound from Lilyanne has me out of my cute daze and up on my feet. As far as the leash lets me go. I know I may have been fantasizing a bit about noodles but there's no way there's any out here. There's nothing but dirt! Dirt, and toddler and...oh no.

"Lily no! Lilyanne! Put that down!"

*slurp*"Rosa! Rosa hungwy? Pasta funny and not as yummy wit out chewsies. Dancy dancy holey pasta. Oh pwate! Need pwate for pasta. "

Down goes another worm, lost down the cavern that is a toddler's mouth. The squirming handful more in her sticky palm desperately trying to make their escape.

The most pressing concern of this beautiful little princess not on the mess of worms unearthed, or the fact that she just swallowed them down raw, but that she doesn't have a proper plate for them. Something to present and share.

...I'm so glad that table manners are a lesson beginning to stick. No! Why is she eating worms in the first place! Ahhhhh!

"NO! No not pasta! Worms are not pasta! Worms are not food!"

"Pasta?"

"Not pasta!"

"Wormy pasta?"

"No no no icky, not yummy. Worms are icky."

"Rosa wuv pasta?"

"Yes I looooove pasta. That's not even pasta! It's a worm and- oh did no one ever explain to you what a worm is....oh no." I take a deep breath, asking for strength and patience I may not have.

"Lily. Big sister says worms are not pasta, even if they look lots alike. Worms are alive! They eat dirt and stuff in the dirt. They're not made from yummy dough that makes pasta, in fact, they taste grooooosss. They taste like dirt and stuff. Don't eat. No. Bad"

As I speak, my pretty little twin looks back and forth between me and the obviously not pasta noodles in her grasps. The slimy squirming dull pink and gray things that in no way look or taste appetizing.

"Liwwi remeber...what smarties big buder say."

"....what?!"

"Lookie liwke pasta." she stares down at it, scrutinizing it in great confusion.

"They're only long, lots of things are. Doesn't really look like pasta Lily!" I scream at her, still trapped by a leash.

"No smell liwke pasta" she sniffs, analyzing the lack of well, anything that smells like food.

"Yes! Yes that's right, it doesn't smell like pasta at all. Or anything cooked. It's just dirt and worms. Now put them down and away from your mouth-"

*slurp*

Oh dear.

I have no words. No words to describe the scene of how my sister just, downed a handful of live worm noodles in dirt sauce. Nor how I feel about that.

There is just no way to play against a toddler and their logic. These creatures are insane.

For the first time, after a long time, Lilyanne starts...chewing. She chews, and chews, with a face full of gross concentration. As if she were a fine wine critic and not- oh. Oh and she's spat them out! Yes! Yes!!!

"No twaste liwke pasta!" she adamantly declares, not bothering to wipe the spare worm chunk off her face.

"That's correct! It's doesn't taste like pasta so it's not pasta. Get it?"

"Dancy funny pasta not pasta! Not yummy nom nom noms!"

"Very good Lily" The bar is low and getting lower, but that's kids for you. Positive reinforcement I tell myself, keep her positive and learning. "I'm sooooo proud of you for figuring it out-"

*slurp*

Nevermind.

I must say there's no one quite like Lilyanne at leaving me speechless. In any lifetime. Such is the power of the heroine, even as a worm slurping toddler.

"Lilyanne, didn't you just....say it wasn't yummy?" I try.

"Noms noms not yummy" she nods.

"Then why are you still eating it?!"

"Musht no wastie fwood. No yummy musht cwean plate says Gabgab an grampapa!"

"Gabgab and grampa....that for food Lilyanne! Vegetables! Finish your dinner plate. Worms are not food, there's not even a plate. Why are you still eating them?!"

She considers it. Another innocent worm pops its head out the dirt mound only to meet it's doom. Going down whole.

"Dancy dancy in my mouth ish funny hee hee. Pasta dancy."

I just don't understand but I see I have no other choice.

"Grampa!!! Get over here and look at what your gross grandchild is doing!"

I feel the leash pull and contract like a button's been pressed and for a moment I'm weightless. I'd scream if I wasn't already used to this from all the testing rounds this morning.

Yes, the very sturdy toddler leash has a retract option. Again, whoever let this thing be created in the first place?

"Which one?!" booms grampa, catching me like a yoyo as he rushes up to the scene.

The landing of his well defined chest much softer than it looks. It's mortifying but I can admit why Lilyanne likes napping here so much. Like a firm pillow, squishy but not suffocatingly squishy, for he is not mother, or even a woman. Even as a grown toddler, there's plenty of comfortable space on this chest. Except for when he unexpectedly spins, it's a very steady and nappable spot.

Pat pat. Ah yes, an unfair muscle definition. I pat some more in petty revenge and not in a fascinated squishing. Pat pat pat.

"What do you mean which one? Of course it's Lilyanne, look."

There's a dirty toddler on the ground. She would be very cute if not chasing after worms, or stuffing them into her mouth.

Urg....someone please take the reigns on this child.

"Oh! Already practicing for a survival situation! Oh, they grow up so fast." grampa clutches me tighter to the squish, his cow eyes wide and sparkling.

"...no she's eating worms you old kook. Get her to stop. "

"A true predator! Eating up those worms! It will keep you alive if nothing else!"

"She's not a bird. Be a responsible adult and stop her already."

The clouds move just right, spring sunlight streaming down in a beautiful natural spotlight. It makes me squint and forces me to turn up into grampa's many man bosom. A breeze blows rustling some green leaves past along with our hair.

I fear fairy tale birds and murder squirrels will start singing.

"One must start out from somewhere." he starts, looking a little too serious, " But your sister is right bunny-boo, work up the food chain! No grandchild of mine is a bottom feeder. Partake in prey more worthy of your prowess and absorb their strength! Climb the ranks of nature. Now that you have tasted the blood and screams of worms it's time to move onto bigger prey and become stronger. Now come."

How inspiring.

"...Grampa. I've always wanted to ask this but...what is wrong with you?"

"hee hee wormy scream pasta funny!" *slurp*

And effective.

"....Huh? That worked when my Maria was small?"

I smack him, repeatedly, for he is an idiot. That and many other reasons, like the fact that everything ever is his fault. Especially the leash. Why the hell am I the one on the leash?!

"You fool. Stop her now. Pick her up and put her on the leash! She's eating dirt and going to get herself sick."

"Hmmm but is it poison?"

Way to aim at my very short dark past. A cheap shot that shuts me up. For emphasis grampa jangles the toddler leash, showing off the scrunchie cord wrapped around his wrist like a pair of handcuffs. It's a bad game where he's the warden and I'm the tiny prisoner.

Sure he lifts Lilyanne up and away from her disgusting snack, continuing the inspection with an armful of toddlers. But which one of us is literally tied up and being treated like a criminal? I'm not just talking about today.

Full surveillance by guards and staff. A strict father enforced schedule of disjointed lessons. Mother randomly popping up to steal my skincare products, my snacks, my assistant and minions, hell even me myself. Even now, I'm not to be left alone. This toddler leash is a lot sturdier than it looks, easily pulling me back to gramps if he so pleases.

What the hell is with this short leash? No pun intended!

"Grampapa lookie! Big man go nap nap,"

"Oh sweetie, No matter how big or strong someone looks that's not real strength! That's them succumbing to the weight of the world and giving up. That or they passed out, huh? Medics! Got another one!"

"Hee hee. Dig dig dig dig dig!"

I can't deny, it hurts my pride that everyone trusts ....that, more than me.

"Dig dig dig hewo dig dig diggy dig dig dig dig pasta dig dig dig dig~"

"....grampa stop her."

"Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig hi hi! dig dig dig dig oh big dig dig dig!"

"Grampa!

Like that we prance about the grounds, at once motivating and honestly more mocking the poor participants in this awful selection test. Just a senile man and a toddler yelling at you to dig.

Okay, maybe I'm being too harsh. I'm sure there some good wise old reasons for having the test done like this. It can't just be about manual labor. Otherwise, what's the point of the viewing platform. Nothing is as simple or easy as it seems.

Everyone up there is watching for different things, for their own reasons.

Some are checking for the basic strength needed to survive in the troops. It's not like any average person can make it in, simply because they wouldn't be able to keep up or be of any use.

Some are checking for magic. Those with a special ability or skill could make use of them here. Herculian strength? Boring, show something with a little more pizazz.

Then there are those watching for character. Against a tedious seemingly pointless task, they're watching how people react. What they choose to do, magic or not. It demonstrates not only what's in their bodies but in their brains.

What do they have to show us all?

So I allow grampa to act as my moving platform, carrying from hole to hole to inspect the potential new wares. It sure is cleaner and less shameful than getting dragged around in the now filthy ground, though he does occasionally pause to let Lilyanne run amok.

Hard to believe that's the so called perfect girl in the original's memories. There she goes right into that dirt pile. Now she's spinning and kicking it down people's holes again. Now she's on the ground making a dirt angel.

Just where is she learning all this from?

"Ahahahahaha! So slow! Why is everyone all slow and boring and stuff? I can dig lots better even when I was littlier! Cap cap cap look Gab-er um teach let me play- I mean stay for pizza because today is pizza day and it's coming real soon and it smells super yummy and stuff and it's going to make everyone super hungries if they're already!" a certain familiar loudmouth comes running up.

I look up to the sky, unsure about the tragically ironic answer to my latest question. Seriously?! Lukas?!

"Hi hi hi hewo hi! Biggie burder pway?!"

"Milky goats! Not the stinky biting baby!"

"Pway?"

"Ahhhhhhh!!!"

Like an innocent tender child against a muck covered swamp monster, Lukas runs up behind grampa's legs. To be fair, Gable must have worked hard to keep him clean and cute looking this morning. Meanwhile, grampa has allowed precious little Lilyanne to truly become one with the earth.

I should be protecting my dear sister from this horrible monster of a bad influence but somehow why do the roles feel reversed? As if Lukas is the one who needs saving from the way he's climbing up grampa like a tree.

Making his way up and over grampa, climbing into my squishy spot, uh excuse me.

"Ahhhhh it's back! How did it get that fast- oh wait. Red. This one's Rosa!" he scrambles himself to hang off grampa's neck. Something the kooky old man just allows with a stupid closed eyed smile.

"Hello Lukas, now get out of my spot."

"No! How come it's your spot huh?! Cap's boobies aren't yours!"

"I'm here right now so it's my spot and...did you just call them boobies? Never mind, grampa do something about this one too. "

"Uppy up! Liwli wanna pway too!" jumps Lilyanne from below.

"Aaaaah don't let it get me! I can't take it on without Amar! Rosa you do something about it! Tell it to sit or heel or something?! You have it trained right?" shouts Lukas, too close to my ear for his screams not to be painful.

"....no."

The whole time, grampa responds by doing absolutely nothing. Just cheerfully balancing a gaggle of children. Being nestled in the prime real estate on his body apparently, I catch under his breath something that sounds like "so many~"

Useless. How in any world is this man capable of anything? Just useless.

From the area of the platform, I smell more than see a late lunch being served. The iconic aromatic scent of pizza wafting through the air.

If the recruit wannabees in the fields weren't already dropping like flies, they're falling dead now. The delicious scent reminding them of their own hunger. Those with strength left to salivate do so. Curious eyes turning up and over to the splendor of the platform, to the strange delectable toasty pastry being served.

Ah pizza day. The types and variety growing with each season as the cooks and trainees get used to baking the pies to perfection.

That may be why uncle Geoff and literally everyone else is so preoccupied. That or they just don't want to bother with grampa's shenanigans...because he's just...well like that. That's fair. I'd pick food over him any day.

In fact, send me right over there. I may not be worm slurping levels but I'm pretty darn hungry.

It seems, however, the fates are not in my favor. Because they never are. Grampa wants to keep playing this sick game of taunt the maybe newbies.

"Lukas my lad, do you think you can show what these worms how it's done?" laughs grampa, his voice unnaturally loud. It's like a stage, the sound resonating across the field and catching everyone's attention back on us.

"Uh huh! Of course, I can, I did this before and now I can do this a lot better because I'm bigger and stronger and all that stuff!"

Grampa laughs with his head slightly thrown back, crisp and clear. The awful sunlight still lighting warm brown locks and sunny tanned skin up in all the right ways. Ah, the magic of good lighting in making even a crazy old man look handsome. Don't be fooled, anyone! It's not worth it! The fact that he's a single father and grandfather this long is proof enough of that,

He steals a heavy spade from one of the shallow abandoned holes. The poor random soul probably long given up if not carted away by the medics.

"You know how it goes my boy! Choose a clear spot and dig. No other instructions. Just don't do anything that will make your 'Guardian' too mad at me." grampa winks, holding out the primitive shovel.

Something that Lukas gleefully grabs and runs off with, despite the tool being over twice his height. He makes a very strange sight like that, especially when some people here gave up with the spade from its weight alone. A fair little mochi brat like that couldn't possibly do what tough grown men failed at.

At least normal ones. The people around grampa are anything but normal.

"Got it!" waved Lukas, picking a spot.

He seems even more hyped up with all the attention on him, the spotlight passed from grampa to the boy. It doesn't surprise me at all when he starts tearing into the ground below with the oversized tool. Just destroying and unearthing a hole with an unreasonable amount of speed and strength. It's like we set loose an industrial diamond headed drill and not a short little grade-schooler.

I do however wish I had a camera to record how jaws dropped. Some onlookers froze in shock at the scene. A few more simply threw their hand up, to give up and walk away. Presumably going "nope" at the unfair comparison.

It really is unfair but hey, if that's what it takes to scare away some more unworthy recruits. If you get that discouraged by a kid, monster or not, then you're really not the kind of person who will make it here. Not everyone can be an adventurer or let alone a famous hero. Same as how people want to become professional athletes, actors, musicians or some sort of shining celebrity on earth.

Few people actually have what it takes. Fewer are lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time to make it happen.

I suppose it has to do part with opportunity. People dreaming of striking it rich and famous in lieu of other prospects. A lot of farmer's sons, dreaming of a life of fame and glory. Even worse, in this world, there are no such things as online applications, resumes, or even internet searches.

Agriculture is a humungous and incredibly important industry. It keeps people fed and alive, working the land to life, but it's hard work and not very glamorous. Understandably, not everyone wants to follow in their parents footsteps. However, unless they can manage to get a trained apprenticeship elsewhere, children tend to follow in the profession of their parents before them. Even years of training as an apprentice isn't a guarantee that they'll make it in that line of work.

Farming is often seen as something you go back home to. When you failed to make it elsewhere.

As Rosalia, I feel a great distaste for them. These 'rejects'. Resentment even.

Life is hard. It's hard for everyone. So what? So what if you didn't make it as some big shot? Go do something else instead. Go make something of yourselves instead of wasting hard-earned resources and pointing fingers. There are no promises, no payouts if you don't put work into it.

Miracles don't exist, even in a world of magic. No one can fix all your problems. Nothing is free.

As a modern person however, a struggling person, I feel that pain. Searching. Applying. Rejection. The grind day in and out. The clawing shame and desperation that burns low, fanning at the fire of whatever reasons you do what you do. I felt that. It's not just stubbornness holding them all out.

Lots of people have dreams about who they want to be, how they want to turn out.

Some people want to be famous, to be acknowledged and beloved by many. For whatever reasons or their means, they want that.

Some people want to be rich. To never feel hunger or the fear of financial insecurity ever again.

Some people want to reach for the stars. Shoot past the moon and break their orbits. To see for themselves the worlds beyond what they've known. Maybe go where no man's gone before.

Once, I knew someone like that, bound to leave footprints on the moon and stardust behind in his wake. A beautiful nonsensical dream. I knew people like that, all of that, once a long time ago. I think I was one of them.

I don't think he would like this world very much. We're missing too many things. I can try baking all the honey buns or pizza pies, search these lands far and wide for lifetimes, but it's not enough.

Stars twinkled in curious black eyes, a bit of gravity always felt lost around him, under his feet. A boy that made you feel lightheaded with his laugh, oxygen dangerously lost. There are no rockets to shoot anyone to space here, magic can't replace everything. It's nowhere near enough.

The night sky is very beautiful here on this unpolluted planet. Sparkling diamonds on black blue velvet, running on infinity. It all makes you feel so small when you really look up. But the planets in this galaxy are not the ones we know, even if what lies above the sky's barrier have yet to be discovered. Mercury, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, even Pluto and so forth with all the minor moon and epic stars. The heavenly bodies dotted and drawn in permanent ink, hidden in tiny places on his body. Because he loved them so much.

They don't exist here. The space you loved doesn't exist here. It's a whole new world to explore.

Maybe he would have liked that part.

Not that it matters.

"Waaaaah! Can Liwli pway too?" my messy sister tugs and asks at Grampa. The easily impressionable monkey looking back and forth at "big bruder Lukas" and grampa with all the sparkling envy of a child. I watch in his arms at this scene before me.

This is my reality now, as strange as it may be.

The not so old man laughs again as he sets me down, stealing another shovel to drop in front of us. It lands not just with a great dust cloud thud but the weight created a small depression in the ground.

"If you girls can pick this up then sure!" gramoa challenges in a cooing baby voice.

Oh gods of this land rather than the children, as concerning as they are,.... can you do something about this man I have to call my biological grandfather?!

Immediately Lilyanne toddles down to lift one end of the thing, only fall over herself. Really I could have told her that. This is something beyond our capabilities.

In another life, even with the control of a near unlimited amount of magic behind her, my sister did not have Herculean strength. That's just not part of the package. Nor is it very lady like. So, of course, it would be absolutely unreasonable to expect her to lift much anything.

"Grrrr." she tugs, failing to move the thing by even a millimeter.

"Huh, what a shame. Thought she would have more Maria to her..." observes grampa, as if he was honest to god disappointed.

That was before turning to me. Stupid invisible flowers floating out as the sun literally warms his too wide smile. The disgust at what grampa is about to pull almost distracting me from the incriminating comment about my own mother.

"Rosie pumpkin~ Don't you want to have a try?"

"No."

"Oh come on Rosa, for fun!"

"No."

"You can hit people more effectively with this!"

"I won't bother grampa. I'm three and have no magic cheats. You know that. This is stupid and Lilyanne's going to hurt herself like that. Lilyanne stop that."

"Grrrrrr!" grunts my sister, going red in the face as she pushes and pulls. The heavy spade still staying all in one place despite grampa's pathetic cheering and encouragement.

What the hell does he expect from us? Another monster like Lukas?!

Oh my god, how many feet is that brat going with the digging? That's a well practically!

Is he going to be okay down there? The hole is getting darker and it's getting difficultly harder to see him. How is he going to get back out?

"He won't." comes a soft childish voice from out of nowhere, making me jump in air in fright.

"Ack! How long have you been there?!" I shout, pointing a finger.

Amar stands with cheeks stuffed, peacefully chewing on a tasty looking slice of pizza. Looking back a bit I see grampa personally feeding my dirty sister a slice from a flat basket. Pizza delivery has arrived.

"Um, just now? Lukas is really strong even against adults, he can go for a long time. Last time we had to dig stairs and drop lines to pull him out."

"Ah, I believe that. Did they have to rope him out? And hand over the pizza."

Instead of being a good little trained minion, he puffs his cheeks and turns away. At first, I thought it was pizza, then pure rudeness until I realized he was struggling to hold back laughter.

The brat is making fun of me.

"I will give you to the count of 10 to stop laughing," I demand, being generous with the countdown.

"Not laughing." the kid lies.

"Stop holding your breath then. What so funny?"

"Nothing much."

"What are you laughing at huh?! Answer me!"

"Not laughing."

He's trying so hard not to loudly laugh that it's making him tear up.

As I make to swipe at him and some pie, the choking kid hops but a long step away. My movements suddenly halted, confined but for squirming limbs. So close yet so far I could scream.

The stupid toddler leash. That's it! I'm still trapped by this thing!

No matter how much I fiddle or pull I just can't undo this thing. I don't even know what the limits are on the leash. I think it's adjustable but how? I've been thwarted since the beginning! Frustrated I settle on threatening the brat apparently taking amusement in my plight. For he pokes and pulls at the cursed line tying me back to grampa, before doubling back down in constrained laughter.

"You, stop foolishly snickering right this instant!"

"Uh huh."

"Shut your-"

"I SMELL FOOD IS PIZZA HERE?! HEY CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!" Lukas seems to echo from down below.

Properly distracted, we look down at the pit. One can no longer see a digging child. But that's certainly his voice down there. There really was nowhere else he could have gone.

"How far did you go?!" I yell out,

"Uh huh! We can hear you lots!" Amar shouts down the darkness, hands cupping his mouth.

"COOL!"

"Can you even get out of there?!".

I now see what Amar meant by last time story time. Yep, can certainly see how a child digs themselves in a hole they can't get out of. At this point, we're all just shouting. The hole is deep.

"I DON'T KNOW BUT IMMA DO IT! I'M NOT THAT LITTLE AND WEAK ANYMORE!"

"Okay! We'll wait! Do you want me to keep talking?!" offers Amar.

"YEAH! CAN YOU KEEP TALKING LOTS AND LOTS?! LIKE BEFORE?!! BUT I WANT FOOD TOO!"

"Come back up then!" I yell.

"I'M TRYING! WHICH WAY IS UP AGAIN?!"

Which was is what now?

Too many people here have genuinely concerning IQs and personalities. Is there something in the water? Or is it just a grampa and crazy proximity thing? Probably grampa and his nasty habit of attracting weirdos.

"It's rough and a lot easier to climb than the outhouse?! Even if it's deeper! Just follow my voice okay?!" shouts down Amar, hands cupped around his mouth. "And Rosa's yelling! Climb the way that feels harder! That's usually the right way!"

"OKAY! ROSA IS VERY LOUD SO THAT'S EASY TO FIND!"

"Excuse you!"

"YEAH IT SOUNDS LIKE THAT! BUT I LIKE YOURS BETTER AMAR! ITS A LOT NICER AND STUFF!"

"Again, excuse you!?!"

"Oh, thank you!"

In the midst of all the noise, my leash relaxes as Grampa approaches closer. A filthy but munching Lilyanne toddling along by his side. Her mouth full of pizza and distracting her from the bad comedy of little Timmy- er Lukas.

"Huh, again? Well, he's taking it much better than last time he got stuck! How you down there Lukas my boy! "

"HIII CAP!?! I GOT HUNGRY AND WENT A LITTLE KAPLOOT BUT I'M OK! I BROUGHT MY LIGHT JARS!"

"That's great! Fight and climb!"

"YEAH! ITS REALLY AIRY DOWN HERE SOMETIMES! AND I THINK SOMETHING IS SMELLING ME! IT HAS WHISKERS AND IT TICKLES HAHA! "

That...doesn't sound good.

"AND TEETH! COOL!"

Oh not good, not good at all.

"Huh, I should probably do something about that." grampa talks as if he was merely musing about it.

For a dark and strange moment, he looks down specifically at me. Playing with the bungee cord tying the two of us together. I see the crazy wheels spinning in his head despite the multiple better options we must have. Frantically I shake my head and sit my butt down.

"You're not throwing me down there. I can't do shit." I show off my short little arms and pudgy fingers.

"I can do it. With or without the walking leash...." volunteers Amar.

How noble, except he takes one look at me still very attached to the toddler leash, before turning back in shaking laughter. I hate him. I hate grampa. I hate everyone who has ever seen or had anything to do with the baby leash. Get this thing off me already.

"HAHAHA! BAD WHISKERS! BACON IS ALREADY IN MY TUMMY! YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!"

At this point, we're getting more than a few eyes on us. The immediate area is empty with how many recruits have thrown in the towel but the uh drama from below is definitely getting concerned attention.

Upon the platform, the senior troops are too used to these sorts of shenanigans to worry. I can also make out a few gossipy old folks, sighing and motioning. I think they've seen this many times before. It sounds like he hit something's den.

That and Lukas is a rather recognizable voice...with a bit of a ...troublesome reputation. Aka, he's a hyper little monster. He's not hated or anything, but kids are a handful and most people are not equipped to deal with. As a cute hyper little kid, he's preferred in small amounts.

Many people congratulated and wished him well when he went off to 'apprentice' away with Gable. Many more thanked the minor gods for the relief of the most damage causing brat and prayed for the mysterious master that took on the responsibility.

If it was a new recruitee or someone less...um...sturdy, I'm sure a rescue unit would have already been activated. It's not like there's anything particularly dangerous in this designated spot unless you're deathly allergic to bugs?

"IT'S SO FLUFFY! I CAN'T HURT A FLOOFIES?! BUT I THINK IT'S TRYING TO EAT MY BACON AND THAT'S REALLY BAD BECAUSE THAT'S ALREADY INSIDE ME. OW! BAD WHISKERS! OW! bUT FLUFFY! OW! CAN I KEEP AND FEED IT CAP?! OW!"

"Gotta say that's a no Lukas, don't think that's house trainable! Playtime's over bud, get ready to catch and hang on."

"AWWWWWWWW!!! BUT I LOVE FLOOFIES!"

"I know little buddy but you know how Gabe gets Only very specific breeds can be pets."

"AWWW OK. WHOA!!!"

Just as grampa finally starts to unlocks the toddler leash on my person, ready to lasso it down the hole, something cracks, and moves.

No not the ground below us, just close. The ground next to us, raising up ever so slightly like a crack in baking bread, with it goes the sound of Lukas. Somehow I don't think the kid is down this pit hole anymore.

"Well, now I really should do something before he gets too attached to it. It's always harder to kill after that. Come on girls, lets drop you off someplace safe first. Amar, can you be a big brother and watch after them?"

"Uh huh! Ok!"

Just as grampa scoops my sister and I up, moved over elsewhere, with Amar obediently following beside him, someone else in the field threw up their hands.

"That's it! Move! Move it! God damn why are boys always like this?" comes a brash woman's voice.

The earth creaks and moves, suddenly there's a giant chunk of it suddenly in the air. It's the size of a respectable bedroom. An irregular block of dirt, not dissimilar to a computer gamer. Before one can shake off the shock of seeing Minecraft in real life, it's thrown over on an empty hole spotted part of the field. Then another one of roughly the same size appears, dug out, following the cracking lines.

They land in clouds of dirt and rock. Over and away. Some large scale digging going on here. Underneath the dusty clouds I can make out a panting figure, a woman presumably with a long, once colorful skirt and slightly loose flowing pants underneath.

The unbelievable digging goes on for 7 more consecutive blocks, creating a sort of odd platformed staircase going downwards. That was enough to unearth the rampaging creature, fur a flash of black and white, that must have been-

"Whiskers!" shouts Lukas, no longer very clean or cute, eyes closed from the sudden bright lights. The boy still hanging on to the fur of a badger skunk thing the size of a decked out lawnmower.

"What are you waiting for!? Get the child already!" yells out the recruitee, sounding hoarsely out of breath.

Grampa calmly looked up to the platform, surely making eye contact with some of the viewers. An unspoken conversation going on between them. A beat passes, then another, and none of the other recruitees take a single stop. Grampa breaks the steady tension with an easy shrug and smirk. His downward thumb making a sharp cutting motion in front of his neck, then he's gone.

"Now that's most definitely not house trainable Lukas." he laughs, rescuing the stubborn kid in a blink.

Not that Lukas needed any rescuing from how he awwed over the fluffy oversized garden pest. It was more like how you pull a child away from a public playground because it was time to go home. Not that any of these newbies knew that, even if they witnessed the monstrous kid dig the hole that started this entire fiasco.

Unless they were scouted out personally by someone watching, I think there's been a lot of failure gradings today. Which is honestly fine, it's not like we're lacking people in here.

"Did I do all that?" Lukas asks out loud, surveying the plowed up land when grampa brings him back down over to us.

"Actually no, not this time buddy." grampa ruffles his messy hair, trying to clean up as much dirt off as possible. As if he could make him presentable again before Gable catches them. Yeah no, that wasn't happening.

"I'm never going to get a fluffy am I?" the boy pouts, looking sadly on to where...uh, Whiskers, as been ...eliminated? Yeah, lets go with that term.

From where I stand, Lilyanne pops up and down clapping at the great show. Cheering and chattering for Grampa. Oh she's going to grow up so messed up at this rate.

"Did you want a pet?" Amar yells out as they approach.

"Of course I do! But Rosa's not floofy or cute and she yells too much! She also comes with the stinky biting one!"

What?!

I look over directly behind my shoulder to see exactly why I didn't go flying when Grampa flew off. The toddler leash is still very much strapped on me, but the handle now held up high in Amar's little hand.

"Ah haha Rosa does yell a lot. But I think Lilyanne's getting better with biting, right? Did you check look, smell and taste if you can bite it?" laughs the other kid, his other free hand patting my head like a stupid pet dog while he talks down to Lilyanne.

Excuse you?!!

"Uh huh! Liwli listwen and check all of dem! Lilwi smarties girl now! Find funny pasta!"

"Was it still alive?"

"Oh! Noooooo, um Lilwi don't know. Dancy funny in my mouth."

"Oh. You should kill it first. That way it doesn't get mad and eat you from inside your tummy to escape?"

"Pasta eat Lilwi? Liwliw eat pasta no no no!"

"Uh huh. If it's still alive? Then it will crawl out by destroying you like that there." he points to the wrecked scenery, prompting my twin to start clutching her tummy and cry.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!! No no, no want broken belly! Rosa save me!!! Grampapa!!!"

I feel something else crack, my sanity.

If I can't get the leash off I will use it to attack. Strangle. No escape. Dirt and burial graves already conveniently here. I will murder the meaning of respect into these brats. It's not child abuse if I'm a smaller child. What the hell did you all call me!?! What are you teaching my impressionable little sister?! Who's the yelling uncute pet?! I'll show you uncute and yelling!

"Alright kiddos, no violent sparring to the near-death without supervision because everyone else said so. That and we need to get this all cleaned up." grampa takes back the leash handle, activating the option that shortens and retracts me to his side.

Curses. Curse anyone and everyone involved with toddler leash! Make it illegal. Ban it!

I fume and stew back in my spot in the crook of Grampa's arm. Even if I'm still visible wherever he goes, if I stay carried here, no one will realize right away that I'm tied on a stupid leash.

I'm a toddler, not a puppy dog or a stupid cat!

No one show this to any of my parents. I have a feeling they'll use it on me without a moment's hesitation. This is a very cruel world.

"Not bad there." grampa stops, standing before a weary woman.

It's the one that yelled before. She's still catching her breath but stays standing with the help of her spade. Dark brows on a fawn face, with darker stubborn eyes looking up to me, at grampa from under her tightly wrapped bandana and partial veil. The peeks of long but smooth dreadlocks tied back there. She's obviously filthy but underneath the layers of dust I can't help but marvel at her clothes.

They're a bit foreign, as many things are around here, and not a particularly high-quality material or anything. But the sleeves, her sleeves are stitched and sewn on whole! They look flawlessly whole!

Oh, I'm so tired of women's dresses with separate sleeves. Why is that a thing here? Why can't we have clothes with all the pieces and parts already there? Is it really that hard? And the pants! She's wearing pants underneath there!

Hey, where did you get your clothes at? Where should I be recruiting for seamers and tailors? Grampa, finish up soon I can question her. It's clear we have different purposes. Sure sure ask about mine craft earthbending or some tragic sob story, I'm trying to save and salvage mother's wardrobe.

Under the pressure of grampa's stare rather than mine, she makes to bend the knee. Still using the spade to support herself in a proper bow.

"It is an honor, to stand in the presence of heroes. The Great. All the most splendid statues do little justice in your visage and tell nothing of your true prowess. May peace and your glory reign under your grace for generations to come. " she kneels with a straight back, her respectful greeting well-spoken instead of simply memorized and recited from somewhere.

Suspicious, but not the strangest we get coming to these gates. Not a farmer's daughter that's for sure.

"That boy is clearly stronger than you" he indicates to her weakened state, noting but brushing off the flattery. "yet you still came to his aid. Why?"

"....Twas a child, your greatness."

"A child already in a much better circumstance than yourself. Who cares? It's not like he's one of your family members. Be honest. "

The woman grips her skirt and the spade, knuckles going white.

"....I don't...make it a hobby...to go about saving children. Your greatness is correct, he is not of my own...but he was a child. Right in front of me. Children, little boys especially, get into the most ridiculous nonsense. They run from their baths, climb things they shouldn't, and hurt themselves all over. That one just...didn't get hurt yet.... It's better to prevent than regret. "

"Hmmm, you sound like you had much experience with that. Judging by your age and behavior, I guess you....matchless."

Oh my god, grampa you did not just call a young lady single to her face?! Curses. I curse you. I curse you on behalf of all womenkind. You will never find a wife in this lifetime. Not like that wasn't already obvious but still. Curses.

Whoever you are I am so so so sorry for him. I just can't interfere at this point. It's not my place nor do I have the power to do so.

"I...was a maid...once. Saw to my lady's child."

"A lady's maid. One that can move the earth? A strange combination is it not?"

"It is this strangeness that finds me here, and not by my lady's side."

"We all have a past. What matters now....is if have what it takes to fight? To kill? Even though you clearly lack strength?"

The eyes that looked up were slightly bloodshot, dark pupils stinging. A stubborn look full of determination, the kind that grampa approves of. He doesn't do wishy-washy, people who expect a savior. Those are for the innocents, the masses. To cross the gates of the troops is to give that up, to be beyond that.

"I should have died many times throughout these years. I'll pay them back in full with my life. Give me the chance to fulfill my debts. " she grits, looking fierce.

Grampa nods lightly, dropping what looks to be a metal pin at the woman. A brooch of sorts. She pauses, eyes wide in shock, before gingerly taking it into her hand and bowing her head once again.

A pass. A recruit has passed on to the probationary period.

"Not bad. I'm getting on in years and perspectives change, there are many kinds of strengths. We need a few more like you around. Now ...it looks like my little pumpkin here is curious and has some questions on her mind. Don't mind her fast mouth. She's a troublemaker herself, almost as bad as that cute kiddo back there. "

I smack grampa for that remark. While I'm a bit surprised he could tell it doesn't mean he has to call me out like that. Talk about rude!?

"Grampa don't be *smack smack* so *smack* rude! Please don't mind him, he's a very crazy old man. All the rumors are never enough, he's worse. Thank you for stepping up and ending today's incident. My name is Rosalia Therese Ventrella, and to what shall we call you?"

I would curtsey but uh, it's a lot taller and a little less shameful to stay in grampa's arm than to show the toddler leash. I wonder if I should try burning it off next?

"I am called Cass-"

The now official recruit makes to stand to answer, brooch already pinned on. However, as soon as she does, she stumbles, falling down to both her knees with a great tremble. Eyes wide not on me, or even grampa, but as if looking past us. I can see as she visibly pales, a shaking hand covering her mouth.

"Are you alright?!"

She pulls herself together quickly in an overly low bow, but her face the moment before was as if she was ready to cry in fright. There's nothing in the field behind us. Nothing but some land damage to be cleared away. Close by, some bad kiddy influences distract my little sister, possibly making her cry some more about worms.

Perhaps....is she someone out to scout for my sister? A little early for that but it's always worth being careful.

A lot has already changed in this lifetime.

"Caspara! My name is Caspara!" she shouts, voice harsh and loud. Practically screams it, drawing attention down to her bowing form.

"It's Caspara!!!" she repeats.

"Very well then," grampa nods, "take a good rest, you're weaker than you think and there is no shame in that. The medics shall see to you. Another day, my Rosa and Lily just may come to play"

He turns to take me away, whistling for the boys to pull along Lilyanne. Walking us back inside the walls. Ready for a cleanup and a proper lunch.

When I look back over, I still see her on the ground. I think she's crying. Shaking in sobs, overflowing in tired frustration, relief, and maybe joy.

It's a complicated but not an uncommon sort of scene here at the troops. This is a very strange place full of strange people. A lot of stories hiding back in here.

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