1-3

 After a few days, the Kinship Festival had ended, and the citizens of Armonia went back to their usual hustle. Herders walked their animals through the streets, and folk sat on their doorsteps smoking their pipes and bartering their conjured wares with one another. Many were worn out by the festival, but everyone seemed still in a good mood from it. However, Reba hadn’t left her house for more than a moment after the first day.

Her mother had still not returned, and her father had spent most of the days in his bedroom, only coming out for food and the occasional check-in. Even then, he was unfocused, like he wasn’t the one controlling his own voice and body. He had conjured a steel door for the room. Now, Reba couldn’t get a glance inside even if she wanted.

Reba fed Krisa some type of milk from a bottle. With their mother gone, it was on Reba to feed, and she wasn’t about to put the baby on her bare chest like her mother did. Kreo had gone out to buy the milk as a temporary feeder and, oddly, watched as she was fed. But when Reba put it to the baby’s mouth, she would shove it away and cry.

“Listen, you ungrateful runt. I’m in charge of keeping you alive, and I say drink your milkies.” Reba said. The outburst only seemed to spark more rebellion as a loose foot kicked the bottle to the ground.

The bottle landed next to Kreo’s feet, who sat silently in the corner on his personal stool. He did not pick it up. Reba rolled her eyes and got it herself.

“She doesn’t like it,” Reba said. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

Kreo shrugged. Then a crack and cry came from the other side of the room. Reba ran to the source. Kayleb had apparently found a rock... and one of his front teeth was chipped.

“What looks appetizing about a rock?”

“Ahhh, Reba,” the boy cried. “It hurts.”

“What do you want me to do? It's your own fault. Don’t bite rocks, stupid.”

“I’m not stupid. You’re stupid. Ahh.” He grabbed his face. “It hurts to talk.” He mumbled.

Reba looked to Kreo as the two kids cried behind her. “Hey, uncle kreepo long face in the corner. I could use some help here.”

“Kreepo? Me?” Kreo puzzled.

“Yes. The babies are crying. Do something about it,” Reba berated.

“What am I to do?”

“I don’t know. You’re the adult. Adults are supposed to know what to do.”

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ll be of no use to you here.”

“Ugh... Then can you go tell my father to come out of that room already? Tell him his kids are dying.”

“But that is untrue.”

“I know it is… But it should get him to do something for the first time in days.”

“I will not do this. Your father is doing something very important in there. It wouldn’t be right to disturb him.”

“More important than his kids? What are we supposed to do then?”

“If there is anything you need, I can fetch it for you, but that is about all I can do.” 

Reba sighed and thought for a while. Or as much as she could, considering the noise. She thought about what her mother would do whenever she had a toothache. “Saltwater.” She filled a small cup with water and dashed it with table salt. She then dipped a torn piece of cloth in it and told Kayleb to bite it.

“But Reba, I don’t think I can eat this either,” Kayleb muffled.

“Oh, so that's where you draw the line. Just do it and don’t swallow.” Reba ordered, and the boy did as she said. He grimaced at the taste but didn’t remove it from his tooth. That was one.

Krisa’s cries had slowed from a violent wailing to an annoying whine. But the baby still had to eat. “Uncle,” Reba called. “I want to conjure something.”

“Would you rather I make it?”

“No. I want you to show me, though. I’m still getting the hang of archaea, but I’m not sure how everything works just yet.”

“What is it you want to make?”

“A spoon.”

“Simple enough.” Kreo stuck out a single hand, and a silver glass sphere appeared in front of him in seconds. Reba watched him closely. He extended his thumb and index finger and dragged them along in the shape of a spoon from tip to tip. The glowing ball flattened. He then used his hands to turn the shape and wiped away the excess like he was cutting a cake with his fingernails. Once the shape was formed, he closed his fist, and the spoon solidified.

“Whoa…” Reba was awed by how easy he made it look. “Ok, my turn.”

The archaea summoned in front of her outstretched hands. Her sphere was a little lopsided compared to Kreo’s, and she put a lot of effort trying to make it the perfect circle. Just that part ended up taking about a minute.

“What are you doing?” Kreo asked.

“What does it look like? I’m making the sphere. All builds start with a sphere.”

“Yes. But you’re about to pop a vein in your head forming one.”

Reba focused harder, but her eventual loss of concentration caused the archaea to disappear. “Ugh, now I have to start over. Butt out. I can do the sphere just fine on my own. I’ve been practicing.” She formed it again, circling the archaea into a ball, but the shape was still elongated and lopsided.

“It shouldn't take that much effort, and there’s no need for it to be a perfect ball,” Kreo said. “Just concentrate the archaea to a single point. Don’t focus on shaping the sphere. It's the natural buildup that forms it, but you’re crafting before you even have your material.”

Reba tried again. This time, she did exactly what he said and focused the iron on a single point. Naturally, the ball grew bigger in perfect symmetry. “Oh,” she said. “I guess you are good for something, Kreepo.”

“You are aware my name is Kreo.”

“No, I'm not, Kreepo,” Reba teased. Her uncle didn’t seem much too pleased with the jest. “So I flatten it like this?” She mimicked his finger movements to form the outline of the spoon. She turned it and used her fingers to carve, making a circle attached to a shaft. She then pushed the circle, making a divot so it formed a little bowl at the end. And there it was—a near-perfect spoon. Small enough to feed a baby. It was easier than she expected.+

+

“I did it,” Reba cheered quietly.

“It looks like you have. For the future, though, utensils for eating should be made of a steel alloy rather than just solid iron. Iron is easily contaminated by food and water, and so is hardly sustainable long term.”

“Contaminah…”

“It can make you sick.”

Just then, Reba got a look at the piercings on her uncle's face. Three studs above his eye. Two in his left nostril and two rings in each ear. She was told that each piercing on a Selplian represented an expertise in a certain material. Each one was colored to resemble that material. The more flexible and durable the material was, the harder it was to conjure. There were nine on him, which meant Kreo had mastered the conjuring of nine metals as pure archaea.

“You must conjure a lot of spoons,” she said.

“I also conjure forks upon need. But it’s essential to know the qualities of your material before a build and decide which is best to forge your creation.”

“Hmm... I don’t know how to get anything but iron, though.”

“Ah... yeah, well. You’re still young.” He shriveled back into his awkward self. He was a lot livelier when he was talking about the archaea. As a matter of fact, that was likely the largest amount of words he’s ever said to Reba in a row. She never knew he could be so talkative.

Regardless, she was going to use the spoon to feed Krisa some leftover soup. She was just old enough not to be solely reliant on milk. The whines were silenced as the baby was far more curious about the spoon than the bottle. Enough to swallow the soup that Reba warmed over the fireplace.

Satisfied, Reba had some of the soup herself. She offered a bowl to Kreo, but of course, he refused. So she gave the bowl to Kayleb, who didn’t eat for fear of taking the saltwater rag from his tooth.

Reba then found herself gazing at her father’s door. What was he doing back there that was so important? She knew it had something to do with the person in there, but why? And who? When her father would come out, she could still hear the noises of something rustling behind the door. Maybe it was an animal or something. She never heard it speak. It only moved around and knocked things over. Maybe it didn’t have a voice, or maybe it was a spirit. Spirits didn’t talk, and they could look like people sometimes. Though why her father would lock himself in the room with a spirit was beyond her. But baseless guessing only ignited her curiosity.

“Do you know what my mom is looking for?” she asked her uncle.

“I do not.” He was stone-faced.

“Well, shouldn’t she have found it by now?”

“I don’t know. Apparently not.”

“Who’s in the room with my dad?”

“No one.” He didn’t seem to miss a step. There wasn’t a change in tone or even a blink of the eye.

“You’re bad at this game,” she said.

“What game?”

“The question game. You don’t know anything.”

“Not all questions are mine to answer. Just like not all answers are yours to know.”

“I don’t like riddles. Talk normal, kreepo.”

“I will not.”

“So you admit you talk like a kreepo.”

“I do not.”

Reba frowned. “Look, I’m smart enough to know things. I can handle whatever it is.”

“That is for your father to decide.”

“How can he decide what it is I get to know?”

“Because he is your father.”

“And you’re my uncle. You can tell me stuff, too. My father always treats me like I’m younger than I am. But I’ll be eleven in two moons. And I feel like I hardly ever know what’s happening. Romy’s been gone for almost two years, and no one will tell me when he’s coming back. And now something's happening again. How’s it fair that I can’t know? It affects me too.”

Kreo remained silent. When Reba realized he wasn’t going to respond, she stormed away behind the curtain to her bed, taking her siblings with her.

The sky leaked into the room like a dark yellow mist. Hours had passed, and the sun was beginning to lie its head to rest. The children’s room was quiet. The adults' room was even more so. Kreo sat still, meditating.

Eventually, he realized his impossible task of child-sitting might require him to check on them every now and then. He removed the curtain to find Krisa and Kayleb asleep on the bed. Light snores and dream whines were all that disturbed their closed eyes. But Reba was... She was crying, off to herself and quiet so as not to disturb her siblings. Kreo took a step back, but the sound jolted the girl. She wiped her tears and aimed a pillow at his head. Kreo had no trouble getting out of its way.

“Go away!” she yelled. “No one wants you here.”

“If that is your wish.”

“It is, Kreepo. And I mean it.”

Kreo continued to back out of the room. Reba seemed surprised that her voice carried any weight. She followed him but frowned when he sat in the living area. “I meant out of the house, far, far away.”

“I cannot, unfortunately. Your father bid me to watch over you all until he is finished with his business.”

“What business?” She began to shove at him, but her tiny strength hardly made him move a muscle. “It's probably your fault that he’s been acting this way. And he won’t come out of that stupid room.” Her voice strained as she tried harder to force him out of his chair. After a moment, she fell to the floor in frustration. “Every time you come around, bad things happen. You’re a bad spirit. Last time you were here, Kayleb got sick, and before that, Romy had to leave. You should just go before anything else happens.”

“I…” Kreo hesitated. “I’m sorry for those things. I come with no intention of harming your family.”

“But you do. And now mama’s gone missing. She probably thinks so, too. She’ll probably come back once you’re gone.”

“Ruby hasn’t gone far, Reba.”

“Unless she comes back with Romy, she has no excuse to be gone this long.”

“Well…”

“Then that’s what it is? She’s gone to look for Romy?”

“I suppose,” he said. “Your mother may be finding him soon. For now, there is nothing we can do but wait until your father comes out.”

“I’m tired of waiting. If mother is going to be looking for Romy, then he shouldn’t be so upset. He should make himself useful and go look, too.”

“It appears I’ve misspoken...”

“Well, if he won’t, then I want to. Come on. Take me to where my mother is.” Reba started to pull on his arm with the same ineffectiveness as her shoves. She tried to haul him towards the door, but Kreo stood and pulled her the opposite way.

“What are you doing? The front door is this way,” Reba grunted. He then swung her around him and dropped her in front of her father’s door. “What?”

“You should inform your father before going anywhere… Knock.”

“Why? What would he care? It’s not like we’re going far…”

“Knock.” Kreo conjured an evil-looking glance that spurred Reba into immediate action. She knocked three times on the cold, hollow steel. After a moment, an eroded voice cleared its throat without speaking.

“I’m taking Reba for a walk. She says she needs some fresh air.” Kreo spoke, careful not to get too close to the door.

“Ok,” Her father’s voice mumbled from the door.

Once they were outside, Reba was rejuvenated by a second wind. The streets of the Scrappers’ District were now the sight of her great adventure. She jumped from rock to rock and from signpost to signpost as if the ground was melting. “Come now, Uncle Kreepo. The captives await their rescue.”

“Captives?”

“My mother and brother… of course.” Both hands were clasped to her hips like she was at the head of a great pirate ship. In her head, she was wearing a giant captain's hat surrounded by plunder as her captain's cape fluttered in the winds of a high storm.

Kreo tugged at the scarf hanging from her neck to pull her down from atop the district water well.

“I’m afraid we won’t be rescuing anyone today,” he said.

“Come on. Aren’t you supposed to be an adventurer? We may have to face a giant spirit like the Feathered Serpent to bring my mother home. We have to be prepared for anything.”

“It’s just a walk, Reba. Any danger and I’m sending you back home.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You were telling me to leave a moment ago, and now you want fun from me?”

“Well, that was then. This is now. And I need to know that you’re worthy of this great mission. Show me your weapon, what you used to fight the great serpent? Unless that was all just a lie.”

Kreo sighed, deciding it would be better to play along. He whipped his pack from his back. After rummaging through it, he pulled out a crossbow without a bolt. It was slim and only about a size bigger than his hands. It shone with a ray of white gold as the setting sunlight beamed from the whiteness of the material.

“Whoa,” Reba exclaimed. He handed it to her to hold. It was light. Even she could wield it if she knew how.

“What’s it made of?” she asked.

“Platinum.”

She didn’t know platinum was a metal. She felt the smooth surface of its handle, the carefully crafted flora design on the curve of the bow. The string was hard and sharp, like it was made of thorns.

“You fight spirits with this?”

“It doesn’t break,” Kreo said. “Always reliable.”

“What else do you have in there?” Reba gestured to the bag on the ground.

“Just a few grim peaches.” He tossed one to Reba. It was a hairy fruit with a pink and purple outer layer. Though by the weight of it, it carried some mouth-watering juice inside.

“What in the shades is a grim peach?”

“It only grows in Piamon, the shadow realm. One of the few fruits that grows completely in the shade. They’re sweet. I don’t really like them.”

Reba took a hearty bite, squeezing an ocean of sweet juice onto her tongue, causing her to pucker slightly. “Fruit from the shadow realm...” She glanced over to the crossbow, and an idea came to her.

“Ok. You’ve still yet to prove your skill in battle, Kreepo. As a test, I want you to shoot this apple when I throw it.” Reba hadn’t any idea if that was even possible. She just wanted to see how Kreo would respond.

To her surprise, he sighed again, picking up the crossbow. In a moment, the glassy ball appeared in front of him, and he squeezed it into a slender stem like that of a stiff flower.

Excitedly, Reba tossed the grim peach as high as she could muster. She followed it with her eyes to see how far it could go. She should have been looking at Kreo. Like lightning, his hands loaded the crossbow bolt and aimed. As the peach reached its peak, he loosed. The bolt pierced the grim peach, snatching it from the air and spilling its juice, causing its sweetness to sweep the air. Kreo yanked on a line he attached to the end of the bolt when she wasn’t looking, pulling the grim peach back to his hand.

“You shouldn’t be wasteful,” he said. “Do you want the peach or not?”

With eyes bigger than the moon and jaw dropped to her chest, Reba nodded. As he held the peach, the bolt eroded away, turning back into the glowing glass and vanishing with the wind. He handed her back the fruit, and she closed an eye to see through its wound. It was pierced directly through the center. Reba took another bite of the peach with a curious eye on Kreo, who had put away his crossbow.

“How did you do that?” She exploded towards him.

“I’ve done nothing out of the ordinary. You told me to shoot the fruit, and that’s what I did. It was likely luck that I hit it.”

“Pfft. I’ve never seen someone conjure something so fast, and the way you hit the peach… I bet you could hit a flying bird right in the eye if you wanted to. If Selplians can do that, then I don’t see why people make a big deal about me being a knight.”

“Not all Selplians can do that. I’m somewhat of an anomaly.”

“What’s an anomaly?”

“Something different.”

“You don’t seem different,” Reba said, skipping around him. “I bet you’ve faced all kinds of spirits and evil people.”

“Fighting isn’t to be taken lightly. It isn’t done for fun.”

“I know. It’s to protect something. Knights fight spirits to protect people. Soldiers fight to protect their realm. I would fight to protect myself and my family. It’s simple.”

Kreo looked quizzical, as if Reba’s answer dissatisfied him. “You would protect your family from a spirit?”

“Of course I would. Spirits are awful, and I won’t let them hurt anyone I care about.”

“Yes, the spirits are awful,” he said. “Though not everyone thinks so. There are some that would get close to a spirit despite knowing what they are.”

“Why would they? Don’t they know that they could turn into a wrath?”

“I suppose there are those who don’t care... Either because they are too evil or too kind.”

“Too kind? But spirits don’t wrath good people.”

“All people think of themselves as good people. Spirits do not see the difference.”

“So then the spirit turns them bad?”

“No... it is not the spirit that turns them. They are still the same person. But they are slaves to the bidding of the spirit. We do not blame a slave for the commands of his master. Though we must fight the slave all the same.”

“Have you ever seen one… a wrath?”

“I have seen plenty. The spirits are… wicked creatures. There is something I want you to do as a favor to me, if I deserve one.”

Reba grew smug. “Well, since you did as I asked, I suppose I owe you at least one.” In truth, her curiosity didn’t want to give him any reason to stop the conversation. No one ever talked to her about the spirits and their wraths—No one that wasn’t just making up stories. So she raised her eyes at this favor.

“Just because one is taken by a spirit… You shouldn’t assume they deserved it.” Kreo hung his head and did his best to avoid her eyes, to avoid giving any more answers. “Don’t repeat that to anyone. Just keep it in your heart, for now.”

The evening grew dark, and the talk of spirits sent a chill down Reba’s spine. Spirits were more likely to lurk in the dark, and she didn’t want to become like the greed girl.

“I’m ready to go home,” she told her uncle. Kreo nodded and led her the way back. The door was creaked open so they wouldn’t have to make a key to get back in.

Kreo stopped. “I must be off for the night.”

“You’re not staying with us?”

“I have some business to attend to. I’ll be staying at a nearby inn.” He walked quickly away in the direction of the King’s palace.

“Ok. Bye, I guess.”

He didn’t spare her another glance.

“He’s so weird,” she thought to herself.

As he went, he passed by a woman—A ghost to him, ignored as a lost stone. She leaned against a wall, noticing him and then noticing Reba. Her head glimmered by the mark of the Mother—her crystal tear embedded as a jewel in her forehead, reflecting the simmering of evening light.

She was a Havi.

One of those bidden to heal the world the gods had left behind.

There were words on her tongue, but not the breath to say them. Instead, she sat on the ground, camping there with a flask of water and her bare, dirty feet.

She must’ve been homeless.

Reba never liked the Havi. They made her nervous, like the way Kreo made her nervous. They lingered in places they didn’t belong, but always went unnoticed until they were the only ones there. Their only purpose seemed to be to clamor for something to heal. Elsewise, here they were living on the street like a beggar. Except they never asked anyone for a single thing. Instead, they would watch with sad, hopeless eyes like those of a hungry child.

The Havi woman bowed her head to her. Reba felt a crunching in her stomach and ran inside.

Later, she was hiding in her and her siblings’ bed when Reba heard some moving in the kitchen.

Her father was out.

He was warming a bowl of soup over the hearth’s flame. He held the cooking pot with his bare hands, grasping the rubber handle, and stared longingly into the fire. Steam rose in the house as it turned to a boil. The sound of the rolling bubbles seemed to startle him into realizing that his meal was evaporating away. He panicked and dropped the pot into the icebox in hopes of cooling it down.

He didn’t seem to notice Reba was outside her room. She, on the other hand, was the most observant she had ever been. She saw the crust in his unwashed beard, the mess accumulating in the house with no one to clean it. But most of all, she noticed the door to his room… was open. A small light flickered from inside—the light of a single candle.

No more secrets. She would know what was in that room.

With her father’s back to her, Reba tiptoed behind him and to the other side of his door. With a graceful step and a slow hand, she inched the door closed so that he wouldn’t be able to see inside from where he was.

The candlelight cast her withering shadow upon the door. The bed chamber looked the same as before. There were shelves of knick-knacks created by her parents as memories of a time long ago, her father’s working table for his personal conjures, and the great big bed underneath a small window to the alley. The window was open, allowing a breeze to slip in.

Reba stepped closer to the bed. On it was a large lump hidden by blankets. It began to move. Did it hear her? Did it know she was there? Her heart started beating faster than the flapping wings of a fly. The pressure in the room was weighing her down, and it took a back-breaking effort just to move. 

The lump shifted again. Then suddenly it sprang up from the blankets. Reba quietly jumped backwards as it stilled itself in front of the window. Its face was hidden by shadows, but it was a person, at least. It seemed like they looked right towards Reba with a heavy, nasally breath.

Reba waited for it to speak, but it said nothing.

It then turned its head towards the window as the nasal breaths became more erratic before cooling. It stared out the window. But there was nothing there, just an alley and another wall. But the head remained drawn to it.

Reba stayed quiet. Either the person still didn’t know she was there or just chose to ignore her. But it was a person, so she had no reason to be afraid. So why was she still?

Regardless, she didn’t have much time before her father would barge back in here with a bowl of lukewarm soup. She had to figure out who this person was.

The closer she stepped, the more features she could make out. They wore a long, plain white sleeping gown and had a head of dark, clumped hair. It had the slim figure of a woman, too slim in some areas. The grey-brown skin on its limbs clung to the bone, as thin as a sword.

Reba found herself climbing the frame of the bed, too enticed by a closer look at this person who had thrown her whole house into disarray. This person, who made her miss the last two days of the Kinship Festival, had made her father go mad. But they were turned away from her. She could see no more. With no other choice, she thought to swallow her fear. She had to make herself known and demand answers. Give them no choice but to hear her and speak the truth.

She leaned forward and whispered a word that alarmed even herself. It was as if the word appeared from thin air, and her mind went absolutely blank. “Mama?”

The being's neck cracked like a popping firework, and its hands snatched Reba by her cheeks. It jerked her towards it as the candlelight seized in a flaming fury. It was light just enough to see that…

It had no face.