[Drabbles] Tanaela

[Smerdle]

the announcement

The announcement came in the form of a letter slid under his door by an unexpected deliveryman. They were a quiet one who brought no other mail, as if the burden of that single envelope was enough to bear on its own. On some level Brenley knew the missive was as important as its unique arrival foretold, but he took the same seat at the counter between his experiment room and kitchen as he always did, slicing the envelope with his letter opener and spilling its contents out in front of him.

The card was off white and nearly as thick as the cover of one of his spell books. He marveled at its weight and gravity, and before he concentrated on what the words printed across its face actually said, the boil's growing imagination flitted through any number of scenarios that might warrant such an impressive piece of stationery. Perhaps he was the heir to a desert fortune... or a gryphon-related one. Or Dahlia had rescinded her ridiculous requirement for employment. Or one of his concoctions had won him a prize. Unable to help himself, he turned his attention to the message only seconds after he had opened it. He was sorely disappointed.

MIRA AND DAVIS QUINN
ARE PROUD TO ANNOUNCE
THE UPCOMING BIRTH OF
THEIR SECOND CHILD

SHOWER DETAILS TO COME

No, it was more than disappointment. Brenley felt angry and betrayed. Jealous. It took him three tries to find the angle of the grain and rip the card in half, throwing it into the trash with a disgusted sneer. Even though it wasn't feeding time, he prepared a fresh bowl of food for Des just to have an excuse to dump his stupid pet's uneaten brown muck all over its remains.  

[Smerdle]

opb

There had been a time in recent memory when he had enjoyed cutting through local parks on his lengthy walks back to Amityville. Those secret strolls had been soothing, especially when the powders and vials he had carried were less than legal.

All of that changed once he heard about the pumpkin. His brother. No one had actually told him his future sibling was male, but Brenley knew it was all the child could be. The very existence of the scareling was already a horrible, threatening, life changing event, and a boil would make it even more so. Nothing he wanted. All that he deserved.

He couldn't cut through the parks anymore, not with so many babies around.

To be fair, they weren't the worst part. Their parents, bursting with proud smiles and empty, encouraging blather, were far worse.  

[Smerdle]

you know

Brenley often thought back while he was thinking forward.

Back... to when he was small and his parents were his reason for being. His mother, in particular, had always been there, showing him how to behave, telling him what not to stick in his mouth, encouraging him to cling to her by taking every available opportunity to suggest that the world was cold and unforgiving. She hadn't been wrong. But he could see now that her intentions had been to keep him close, not keep him safe.

Forward... to this new life that was inexorably tied to his own. His absence had brought his parents together with an intensity he had never seen them display. Perhaps they had been just as devoted to each other before he had arrived. Perhaps, too, it was a habit of theirs to make scarelings to show that devotion, scarelings that inevitably distracted them from one another, made them distant again. This analysis secretly pleased him every time he prodded at it in his mind. It meant the child would end up as poorly adjusted as he had. Someone would understand.  

[Smerdle]

a lifetime

"Mom?" Bren squinted and cleared his throat, as if either would fix their spotty connection. "Mother?"

"Yes... hello... Brenley, dear, I'm sorry. The phone has been horrible."

"Should I call another time?"

"No, no..." There was a bit of shuffling and then the line was clear. "I guess it was just something rubbing the wire. Your father hasn't been home again, and I—"

He cut her off without hesitation, not even remotely considering how rude it might be. What he had witnessed six months ago, how his parents had behaved... It had all been a fluke after all. A fluke that happened every seventeen years.

"How is the pumpkin?"

It was an innocent question, one that a concerned older brother would be expected to ask, one that he never would without an ulterior motive. The line was so silent that it was a wonder there had been static disrupting it at all.

She took a breath. "The pumpkin is in excellent health, Brenley. Thank you for asking."  

[Smerdle]

the strangest dream

He knew it had been a dream the moment he had opened his eyes. And not just a regular dream, because that had been implied by the whole "lying in bed" part, but one of those collective ones that everyone on campus got dragged into for some unknown reason. Not that it mattered. None of it did, not Gawain or Merlin or the Great King. All of that would be analyzed and deconstructed in time. Right now, all he could see was the vision from that cavern, the one that had played on his closed lids as he'd wrapped his fingers around Stadtler's hilt.

His perfect little sister, murdered. He had killed for her there, taken revenge on those who had cut her life short. Would he do the same in this world?  

[Smerdle]

something there

"Hello?"

His mother sounded tired.

"Hello, mother. How is the pumpkin?"

She hesitated. Sighed. "It's well."

"May I come to see it?"

Her pause was longer this time, and when she spoke she sounded breathier, as if she had swallowed a dry hunk of bread and hadn't yet convinced her throat to moisten again. "Yes. If you'd like."

"I'm free Spiderday."

"All right, dear. We'll be waiting."  

[Smerdle]

the hat

He had been by to see his future sibling a handful of times now, and each time he went, he felt a little bit sillier. Why was he visiting a pumpkin anyway? Did it know he was there? Could it hear him and their mother speaking? He hoped not. Oddly enough, Bren also felt more at ease with each visit, like there was a gnome burrowed inside that was slowly loosening its grip on his stomach and lungs. The boil chuckled. That was a terrible analogy.

"Is something funny?" There was no malice in his mother's tone, just curious amusement.

"It looks idiotic."

"I think it's very cute."

"Maybe when the scareling is born and has an actual head. Now it just looks like you lost your mind in the middle of gardening."

"Give me your phone. I want to take a picture."

"Mother..."

She held out her hand, barely moving until he relented.

"Now lean in."

"What?"

His mother chuckled. No, she... giggled. "Move closer. I want the both of you in the shot."  

[Smerdle]

pumpkinsitting

The scareling had nearly arrived. If he hadn't been counting the days himself, Bren would have been tipped off by news of his father's return. It made sense that the gryphon wanted to witness the arrival of his second child, but in the interim, Bren's parents had taken to acting like teenagers again before obligation kept them from date night for another fifteen years.

Of course, with Brenley nearly an adult and able to watch a child, at least in their opinion, maybe they would never give up their solitary trips this time. The boil didn't share their confidence in his scareling watching ability, but at the very least he knew he could keep a pumpkin in line. It was a mild comfort for now.

The first night they asked him to watch his unborn sibling, Bren brought his fully stocked travel potion cabinet, but after only an hour of silent mixing and casting, he swore he could feel the child's eyes boring through its rind and into his back.

"Fine. All right. I know this probably isn't any fun." He crossed to the pumpkin, giving it a brief pat. "Would you like me to read to you? That would be entertaining, right?" Bren perched the baby's hat on the crown of its pumpkin and retreated to his closet, smiling widely when he saw the book he hadn't remembered to miss at the top of the nearest stack.

"Flynn O'Houlihan. I haven't seen you in years."  

[Smerdle]

vacating the premises

Phones were not permitted in Professor Warch's Halloween History for Hobs, but as soon as Brenley's let out a muffled buzz from the pouch at his thigh, he had it out and concealed under his desk, illegal or not. A burst of jealous anger flared in his chest as he read the incoming text, a calm missive from his mother informing him that the pumpkin had cracked and his sibling would soon be born.

Though he had anticipated this very reaction months ago, he still had to choke down a sneer as he gathered his books. Bren might have come to terms with the reality of the scareling, but the fact that his parents had chosen to have it at all still stung, no matter how prepared he thought he was. Bag packed, the boil shot to his feet right in the middle of a droning lecture on the ghost-reaper skirmish of 1622 and hurried for the bus.

- - -

The house was surprisingly quiet when he finally arrived, though all of the candles and assorted magical lights were blazing, throwing the hastily-made WELCOME HOME BRENLEY banner hanging from the porch into stark relief. It was a nice gesture, one that made him feel better in spite of himself. He gathered up the delicate strip of paper and brought it inside with him, slipping off his boots and slinking toward the kitchen.

As he moved deeper inside, the desert's evening chill was dampened by the insulated walls of his home, the windows drawn tightly shut. He heard a muffled clatter, then the rumble of his father's proud laughter. It made his stomach clench. Brenley rounded the corner, expecting his discomfort to grow, but it instead remained constant and even faltered as he paused in the doorway, catching sight of ruddy brown fur and a tiny, grasping set of talons. It would never cast a spell or one day summon an adorably charismatic familiar. It likely wouldn't even command his mother's academic attention. Bren's face tightened, making him appear as though he might cry. He didn't. His features smoothed and he took a step forward, then another, then another, his parents parting just far enough for him to wedge between them.

"Brenley," his mother said, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder. "This is your sister, Tanaela."