39: Rackids

When I woke up, I was back in my bed while the others spoke softly. Big deja vu, except this time I wasn’t freaking out from a nightmare. Gathering myself, I sat up on the edge of the bed and took stock. Yeah, I definitely felt more alive after that nap.

Stretching, I stood up and headed out into the main room. Elena was missing, but Paisley was there talking to my mum. They seemed to be having fun, and I hesitated, watching.

Mum was sprawled out over the larger of the two sofas we had, looking tired. Her exhaustion wasn't surprising considering how fast she'd levelled. I was a little in awe of my mother right now, if I was being honest.

In contrast, Paisley was sitting relaxed but proper and upright on the smaller of the two sofas. She was smiling at something mum had said, but the moment I came into view, she turned it on me. The smile shifted as we made eye contact, gaining a soft depth that made butterflies erupt in my stomach.

She patted the space next to her after holding my gaze for a few silent seconds. "Hey, Keiko. Feeling better? We're talking about how stupid elite guilds are. I can say that kind of thing now that I'm not in one."

Crossing the room, I flopped down next to her and gave a yawn. "Forgive me if I roll my eyes," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Rude!" She grinned, pushing at my shoulder lightly.

In retaliation, I flicked the tip of her long pointed ear. "You stayed in that cesspit for months after I was kicked out! You get no sympathy from me."

"Rascal!" She squeaked, covering her sensitive ears. "I was scared!"

"I know, I know," I said, softening my expression and tone. Reaching out, I took her hand from her ear and clasped it between mine. "I helped you get out, remember?"

She smiled and stared down at our hands for several moments. "Yeah…"

Over on the other sofa, Mum made a small, considering noise. It was one I knew well, and it meant she'd realised something. I looked over to her and shot her a questioning look. All I got in return was a mysterious smile. Damn it, mum.

"So what's happening now?" I asked, steering the subject to an easier topic. "What are you going to do now?"

“I need to speak to Riku about what has happened,” Mum said with an exhausted sigh. “Everything happened so fast, I didn’t even get to speak to him, and now it’s been a week or so.”

I winced and sent her my love with a look. Mum and Riku hadn’t gotten on very well since dad’s death. This probably wouldn’t help things between them.

“I can talk to him if you want…” I offered cautiously.

She shook her head. “No, I’m his mum, it’s my responsibility.”

If I hadn’t been enjoying the feeling of Paisley’s hand in mine so much, I might have swapped sofa so I could hug my mother. She really did try her best. Unfortunately she was one of those people who’d struggled to mentally grow up according to how society had decided mothers should act. It’d made for a mum who wasn’t at all shy about showing us her love, but it also meant that from an early age, Riku and I had known she was human. That meant seeing her mistakes, knowing she could be wrong, that kind of thing.

“If you need help, let me know,” I said. Then grinned, hoping to bring her mood back up. “I was actually asking about what you were going to do next in the game, though.”

"Oh, I'm not sure," she replied with a cough. Her gaze was fixed on her hand in her lap, like it held the answers. "I know it's awkward to have your mum lazing around in your apartment, and I don't want to impose—"

"Mum," I frowned, interrupting her. She was acting way more reserved now than I was used to. Despite what had happened earlier, I was an adult and I had been for several years. I wasn't embarrassed to have my mum around. Why would I? She was awesome. "You can stay here. My bed is big enough and I can always shrink down if we need more space."

Mum looked relieved when I finished speaking. "Well, I was hoping we could play together, despite what we said when we first discussed this."

"You could help us build the walking tree house and then live there?" I suggested, framing it as a question. "We'll probably end up living there too to save on money."

"Make sure you take all the books," Paisley interjected.

"We will."

Mum considered me for a moment, then smiled, "You're so good, my little daughter. Thank you, I think that will be fun."

"We're planning to walk our treehouse into the new zone when it opens up. That way we can sell supplies and whatnot to the people there," Paisley explained to her.

“If it’s okay with you all, I might take that idea one step further,” Mum mused. “Why not make an inn and a proper little shop. Then we can walk around and sell things, possibly also provide lodging and transportation for people who don’t want to walk everywhere.”

“I love that idea!” Paisley exclaimed, grabbing my arm in her excitement. “Do you?”

“Sure,” I laughed. Enjoying her exuberance. “I can sell my smithing stuff there. What do you say mum, want to sell the swords I make?”

“There is nothing I would love more than to talk up my daughter’s finely crafted goods,” she smiled. Then, her eyes lit up. “Oh, we need a maker’s mark for you. Something as beautiful as you are. I won’t settle for anything less.”

Blushing, I looked over at Paisley and rolled my eyes. My friend just grinned, not at all sharing my exasperation. “She has a point, you know.”

Bullying. That’s what this was. Unfettered bullying.

****

We had gathered a sizable amount of materials by the time mum arrived at the tree, and I took a break from adding to the pile by showing her around.

“And this is my forge,” I told her, dragging her by the hand towards my little metalworking shop. It had been a long time since I felt this close to my mother, and as embarrassing as it might seem to others, I was loving every moment of it. I guess as I’d gotten older I was starting to appreciate her more than I had when I was a grumpy teenager.

Mum made a considering noise and dropped my hand so she could wrap hers around my shoulders. “These VR games are pretty incredible. You’re learning actual skills as you play, rather than just quicktime events or pure brute force time investments.”

“It is pretty great,” I agreed, looking up at my mum fondly. “Hey, um… are you sure you’re okay hanging out with me and my friends instead of the ones who power levelled you?”

With a snort, she looked down at me and brushed a hand over my hair. She barely had to lift her arm to do so. I was so much smaller than her. I felt like a kid again, except now she had the figure of an olympic swimmer or something.

“It’s much more important to me that I connect with my daughter and make myself available if she needs me while she’s figuring herself out,” she told me quietly. “I’ve been messaging them since, though, and some are interested in hitching a ride for the trip to the new area. I won’t be stuck with you kids the whole time. Plus, isn’t it my job to ask you if you’re fine having your mother hang around? Isn’t it a little odd given your relationship with Elena?”

“She’s just horny,” I blushed, kicking at the forest floor so I didn’t have to look up at her.

“So long as she treats you right,” she replied neutrally. “If she breaks your heart though—“

I just about choked on my next breath. “Ah, no. It’s not like that. I do care about her, but more as a really good friend. She doesn’t see me as anything more than that either.”

Mum chuckled and shook her head wonderingly. “Alright, little sprite. Tell me about your smithing, then.”

Rather than talk about it, I equipped my hammer and stripped off my top. Mum gave another of her amused little chuckles as she watched me, but didn't otherwise comment. Over the last day or so I’d gotten frustrated with making nails slowly by hand and instead I’d dug up some clay to make a mould out of. Each nail still required me to bash it into shape with a hammer, but it was easier than what I’d been doing previously.

Pulling out the latest batch of nails that I’d set to cooling before giving mum the tour, I carefully pried the metal out of the mould. A piece of the clay crumbled under the force I used to extract it, and I swore under my breath.

Bending one nail off the sprue, I held it up for mum to see, then carefully held it inside the forge with my tongs. It was only a minute or two before the rough nail was glowing a dull orange and I pulled it from the forge.

I set the small hot sliver of metal down on the anvil and hefted my hammer, already lining up the first blow. The hammer rose above my shoulder, held confidently in my right hand, but it stalled at the apex of its rise and I froze. The hairs on the back of my neck had prickled to life and my senses instantly flew outwards. Something was wrong.

A twig snapped out beyond the treeline, and I spun on my heel, releasing my hammer in a wild throw that threw twigs and foliage in all directions as it ploughed into the underbrush.

Beside me, mum was startled, a question forming in her expression. It hardened into understanding when an inhuman howl of pain returned from where I'd just yeeted my hammer. In her hands, two enormous punch daggers materialised, summoned from her inventory and she stepped closer, ready to pulp any beast foolish enough to come at her daughter. Smiling up at mumma bear, I drew the Tobubana, my beautiful pink and black katana, and spun it over my knuckles. Was I showing off for mum? Definitely, but mum was worth trying to impress.

What barrelled out of the underbrush put pause to my confidence, and I took a step back. What in the fuck was that thing? I flicked my hand in a gesture and sent out the mental command to identify it, even as my wings burst out of my back and carried me up and out of reach.

Juvenile Rackid

A strange and alien creature not seen before within the known world of Rellithesh. Its soft skin and white claws imply that this is a younger example of its species.

Well that was helpful, not. The creature was almost as tall as mum and humanoid in shape. Its body was covered in interlocking plates of soft cartilage or something, and its thick legs ended in raptor’s feet, complete with enormous talons.

Its arms were just as massive, but its clawed hands looked surprisingly dextrous. They also held a sword and shield of impressive quality, if a little plain. It was the type of armament that a footsoldier in a well funded military might have. Mass produced with no embellishments, but clearly effective.

The rackid screamed, its voice almost harmonic, like it was screaming from three or four mouths, then rushed mum. She dodged quickly out of the way, but stumbled over a twisted root and went down hard on her shoulder.

I dove, spinning with my sword outstretched, calling to my friends as I did so. “Guys! We have company!”