Timestamp: 19th of Spring, 512 AV
A playful thump on the back of the head, a teasing kick to the back of the calf, a humorous flick on the bridge of the nose; all these things were amplified when all Thayer could see was the branch in front of her, folding in on itself from lack of hydration.
“Pay attention and focus. Look, there,” her father’s fingers were barely noticeable amidst the terribly lit atmosphere but she could distinctively tell that they were pointing toward the sky, so Thayer’s eyes followed his invisible finger to the night’s ceiling, speckled by intense bright dots.
“What are they dad?” Thayer asked as she found herself mesmerized by the sparkling dots of light marring the darkness overhead.
“Those my dear, are called stars,” he told her as she felt a hand clasp her own. “And that over there is called the Big Dipper.”
Thayer’s eyes were finally getting adjusted to the dark surroundings that closed in on her. She was outside in the middle of the night, corned by branches and bushes of all kinds. Her father was drawn close by, holding her hand, sitting right beside her in the prairie’s grass. She continued to look up at the sky, trying to locate the star her father had recently mentioned.
“But where is it?” Thayer asked, confused. She continued to search for the glowing light, straining her eyesight, but giving up when she saw knew herself had failed.
Her father interrupted her quick search, now ending abruptly in defeat. All signs of first hand fascinated had evaporated, joining the room in the sky along with those lights that filled its emptiness. “Not where is it but where are they.”
Thayer held her chin higher, cautiously lifting her eyes to the topside surface once again after trying to locate her father whom sat not mere feet away from where she sat. She now knew that she was not looking for one star in particular, but multiple.
“See here child,” her father continued, his voice still calm and patient, as he took her pointer finger in his thick fingers. He gently guided it towards an oddly shaped arrangement of stars near the middle of the sky. “This is called a constellation, and this certain constellation is called the Big Dipper.”
Thayer’s mind buzzed with many uncertain questions. “But father, why is it called the Big Dipper? It looks nothing like a bird.”
Her father shook his head, his humorous smile masked by the darkness of the night. Of course she was referring to the bird named for their bobbing or dipping movements and their unique ability to dive and swim underwater, for the girl had only ever been in the outdoors.
“No child, I mean a Big Dipper as in a ladle or a large spoon. You see the handle here?-” Her father continued to move Thayer’s finger so that it traced the outline of a rectangular shape much thinner than the main body portion of the rest of the constellation. “And here is the ladle part, used to hold water. Mummy uses this when she serves us porridge.”
“But isn’t that just a big spoon?” Thayer questioned as she positioned herself on her father’s lap.
He shrugged as he welcomed the small child as she curled up wearing her small leather hide coat and mittens. Her feet were somehow shoeless, bare to the night’s cold touch, laced with frost and meaning to give colds.
“Where are your boots child?” He inquired, changing his inconspicuous astronomy lesson to his daughter. He was quizzical as to how she would have been able to be let out of the house without being caught without proper clothing.
“Mama’s asleep. I didn’t know. I’m sorry papa,” Thayer responded, cuddling closer to her father. Her eyes twinkled as the moonlight embraced her irises. They seemed to glow like the stars that littered the sky that hung above them. It was a soothing embrace she had in her father’s lap; the warm comfort of being next to someone you loved. It gave Thayer a sense of need, of want and desire; a feeling she knew was one of belonging.
“Are you cold, my dear?” Her father spoke, igniting the night with a frosty breath of protective words.
“No daddy. Can you please show me some more conciliations?”
Her father smirked as he noticed his daughter’s wrong pronunciation. She was a young girl either way, merely a pup in her animal form, not yet considered toddler in her human form. Her hair was very short, the kind of hair that takes forever to grow, inherited by her mother. Her eyes were abnormally blue and frightening vibrant as they seemed to light up any darkness that wanted to threaten to bring evil.
“Alright,” he sighed as he glanced up at the stars once again. “You see that star up there? That large one that is shining so much brighter than all the others?”
Thayer’s eyes widened as she unmistakably saw a large glinting object in the sky. It was so obvious to see it among all the other small twinkling lights that she wasn’t sure whether what she was seeing was real or a mere illusion.
“Yeah daddy, I see it! It’s so beautiful daddy. I wish I owned stars.”
Her father chuckled as he continued explaining what that star actually was. “Well my dear, that bright light isn’t actually a star at all, but another planet. A world called Swalden.”
Thayer crinkled up her nose as she continued to observe the glistening dot. She was confused, for she had never heard much about other worlds other than the one she currently lived in. “What’s Swalden?” she asked, trying to persuade her father to continue. She was very interested in what the stars were all about and where they came from, what they were, but she was unsure on whether her father thought she was tired and wanted her to go to sleep or not. “Tell me more,” she pressured her eyes gesturing an oncoming story.
“Swalden is a gas giant. A planet that is home to a vast crystalline ring. The ring, my dear, is entirely made up of beautiful, special gemstones called Memosites. People think that Qalaya and Semele plotted together to make those gems. Qalaya being the Goddess of memories: the wonderful things you can remember from the past and Semele being the beautiful mother of all creation. She practically created Mizahar, Thayer. She’s the earth beneath your feet, the rocks beside all trees, the gems found on crowns and necklaces, the minerals in the water you drink.”
As her father was getting excited about his story of the mother of Mizahar, Thayer couldn’t help but continue dwelling on the world of Swalden. She understood and comprehended all that her father spoke, sometimes retaliating the information back at him with questions like what Semele looked like and where Qalaya was worshipped at, but the idea of a complex other world out there intrigued her to the bone.
“Daddy, tell me more about Swalden,” Thayer urged, switching her position on his legs so that she found herself more comfortable. Her head was now on his knee, her legs hanging off the sides of his legs. She smiled up at him, although she knew not whether he could see her satisfied smirk or not.
Her father cleared his throat before he continued talking about the wonderful world of Swalden. “I have heard much about Swalden being a wizardry place. Portals occur here most, the stones resonating together to share the same knowledge so that they can communicate telepathically with their wielder, giving and receiving thoughts to one another. It’s very difficult to explain, and you are far too young to understand.”
Thayer was partially annoyed that she could not learn more about the other galaxies and planets out there, but she didn’t pout on the subject more than she had to, and to have her father continue telling her more information, she looked up at him with innocent eyes. She pouted her lips and tried to sew her eyebrows together so that they bent down in a babyish way. She would either seduce, persuade or force her father to tell her more. She was beyond fascinated with all this stuff.
“Who is Lady Qalaya really?”
Her father’s serious expression faltered as an unending smile formed upon his lips. He knew all about the Gods and Goddesses of life and loved to tell stories about them. He found Qalaya most interesting and was proud to have been asked to speak of her once again.
“Qalaya is the goddess of memory and writing and all the little things that goes on inside that little head of yours,” he stated as his fingers caressed her temples, having Thayer burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “She is the woman who is of all who tell stories, speak of the history and who seek to preserve the past. If you want to follow Qalaya you have to want to believe that the key is to want to understand about the world in which one lives in now. The world that will unfold the future is knowing and to want to embrace the past is needed. She causes you to dream about the past. She brings back wonderful memories as well as cursed bad recollections.”
Thayer grew timid as she took in all this information. Was this Goddess a scary person or just a tough lady who is sought out as threatening and provocative?
Thayer’s father must have seen her frightened expression throughout the midnight’s darkness, for he soothed her through petting her hair and telling her all was all right. “Qalaya believes that knowledge is power. She was the mother of writing, giving the knowledge to write to Mizahar, believing that without it, people would be unable to truly learn and grow. But she is very cautious on whom to trust since the Valterrian.”
She shrunk back at the mention of the world Valterrian, for she knew of that devastating time when all was crumbled to ashes and pain and terror. As though Qalaya was messing with her brain, she began to think back to bad times in her previous childhood. Nothing could compare to the Valterrian of which has happened to her. Nothing.
“What are some other Gods and Goddesses out there, daddy?” Thayer inquired, leaning her head against her father’s chest, looking up at him through glassy eyes and raven-coloured hair.
Her father ignored his daughter’s tired look that was easily portrayed in her glazed eyes just this once before continuing onto his most favourite goddess of all time.
“Her name is Cheva. She is the most wonderful Goddess of all. She is famous for many things and she is the one who gave your mother and I, you.”
Thayer perked up at her father’s wistful tone, his eyes moist with either fatigue or tears. Who could cause so much emotion to wash upon her father like that? Who could grant him the power to have a child such as Thayer? Why was this lady so famous and important in daily life?
Thayer’s father must have seen the confused look on her face, because he continued telling her about the wonderful Goddess, proudly named Cheva.
“Cheva is the Goddess of Love, passion, vows, and all leading up to the miraculous marriage. She is the one that is responsible for everyone knowing when a couple is ready to make a vow to be true to only each. This is when the two people join together in a marriage that Cheva has created through her power of love. She is open to all sorts of relationships as well, approving of more than pairs but of trios and quartets. If someone likes a male, yet they are a male, she accepts this, for she is all about love. She does not consider gender important nor does she consider an erratic age difference. However, Cheva’s love markings will not appear to a person who is unwilling or hesitant to love another. Love, passion as well as true devotion must be present for her beautiful marks to manifest.
Thayer was astonished. So whenever her father stole her mother meaningful looks, delighted smiles and happy eyes, he was in the honour of a wonderful Goddess, Cheva? Her mind was a whirl, a brain in the tumble of a washer machine. All of the information she had been given, yet the conversations had only started with the basic glowing dot in the sky! However, she understood all the knowledge she had been given from her father and from her own faithfulness. She now believed in more Gods and Goddesses than she could ever have imagined. Who knew!
“You look tired,” her father whispered into her ear. “But you best not be snoozing on me too soon, my youngling. You still have to make your entire family dinner!” With that, he picked his daughter up, whom had widened her eyes, ridding of all sleep at the sound of the sudden change in her father’s voice. It was a change from soft to excitement, something that would have caught the interest of anyone, or better yet, would have startled anyone.
“What’s for dinner, miss chef?” her father grunted in a matter of fact tone as soon as he stepped through the wooden door to the family’s personal cottage. They all knew it was terrible choice to build a cottage in the middle of Zeltiva’s woodlands, but couldn’t escape the fate with nature and their other half to care.
“How about we make…” Thayer racked her brain for suggestions when she looked at Toril, whom was mouthing an idea to her. “doughnuts?”
“No, honey, we can’t have doughnuts for dinner,” Thayer’s mother scolded in a playful way. “What have you been playing in today?” She gave her daughter a pat on the head before luring her over to the boiling pot of water on the stove next to where she stood.
Thayer hopped onto a wooden stool made especially for her, before looking over the lip of the pot to see that steaming bubbles continuously formed and popped at their every will.
“What’s for dinner exactly?” Toril blurted out as he jumped onto a seat at the makeshift dinner table. He already had both fork and knife in hand, yet no food had been placed onto the table yet.
“Whatever you want.”
Thayer’s pale face beamed, like the moon’s light on the darkest night. She could choose to make whatever she wanted to? That was something she had always wanted to do. To prepare a meal by her choosing with the occasional help of her mother, whom she had always loved for her meals and her motherly love.
“Potatoes!” Thayer shouted in a giddy fit, her face displaying pure gay joy.
Her mother irked up her nose, imitating a confused look although she knew with all her heart what her daughter wanted to make. “Potatoes?” She continued, eyeing Thayer conspicuously. “Why on earth would you want potatoes in the boiling water?”
“I want to make our favourite porridge, mama, with potatoes and carrots and spinach and cinnamon-”
“Cinnamon! Eviuko, the girl wants cinnamon in the meal.”
Thayer was confused. Why was her mother acting so strange, so ignorant and unusual? Why was she messing with her now that she knew somewhat how to cook her favourite meal? She couldn’t help but butt in to save her skins. “Cinnamon makes the taste come out. It’s a good spice and it’s healthy for you.”
Her mother looked down upon her with a smile on her face. “You’re exactly right. You need to peel the potatoes first! Peel, youngling, peel!”
So Thayer went off to the right hand side of the counter, a potato peeler in her hand, and began to strip the skins off the potatoes. She knew that the skins on the potatoes were the healthiest part of the potato, because it held so many nutrients and vitamins, but for their special porridge it wasn’t needed, for they were adding many other natural, healthy ingredients to make up for it.
Thayer placed the peeler on the side of the potato and thrust it away from her, the skin of the potato coming clean off. “Is that good mama?” she asked to make sure her technique was accurate.
Her mum merely smiled and set a hand upon her daughter’s back. “Perfect.” So Thayer continued peeling all other potatoes that way before splashing them into the boiling water in the pot.
“Careful my dear! We don’t want you to get burned by the water,” her mother scolded her after experiencing her daughter’s actions first hand. The back of her hand had just received a small burn.
“Oh no, mama! I’m terribly sorry! Let me go get you some bandages and some antibacterial medicine.” She sprinted through the small cottage, stopping for a splint second inside the family bathroom to retrieve a makeshift medical kit. With the tools in hand, she bolted back to the kitchen where she sat her mother down and took her hand in hers.
“Now there,” Thayer’s mama cooed as she watched her daughter take a tube of vasaline and squeeze it out onto the wound. She then moved to the gauze that was consequently placed near where the tube was, and wrapped it around her mother’s hand. “That took a lot of leadership, my dear child.”
Thayer smiled, her white teeth twinkling in the dimly lit room. The wonderful aroma of potatoes was brewing in the kitchen and both girls smelled it. Soon, the moment of solitary was interrupted when Toril shouted that the meal needed to have carrots.
“That’s right Thayer,” her mother warned as she led her back to the kitchen. “Rule number one you must never forget,” Thayer listened intently for her mother’s wise words, “never under any circumstances leave a boiling pot of water unattended, you hear me?”
Wow, Thayer thought to herself as she stood over the pot of potatoes, carrots and water. I’ve learned more than I thought I’d ever today. And with that thought in mind, she plunked several more leaves of spinach into the pot and stirred silently to herself.
The family was served, they ate well and Thayer was shipped off to bed thinking freely to herself about what she had been told today. She would never forget about the wonderful Goddesses Qalaya or Semele. She would never ignore the facts about the world Swalden or the gems its rings have. She would never lose memory of the stars and constellations up in the night’s sky or the technique to cook and stir potatoes in a boiling pot of water. Today was a day full of knowledge and experience and she would never forget it if her life depended on it.
Suddenly, her bedroom door opened, a thin streak of light shining through the crack it made. Her father’s lulling voice met her ears as his words spoke of someone else. “Sleep tight, good dreams tonight and don’t let Nysel bite!”
Now who in the world was Nysel?
A playful thump on the back of the head, a teasing kick to the back of the calf, a humorous flick on the bridge of the nose; all these things were amplified when all Thayer could see was the branch in front of her, folding in on itself from lack of hydration.
“Pay attention and focus. Look, there,” her father’s fingers were barely noticeable amidst the terribly lit atmosphere but she could distinctively tell that they were pointing toward the sky, so Thayer’s eyes followed his invisible finger to the night’s ceiling, speckled by intense bright dots.
“What are they dad?” Thayer asked as she found herself mesmerized by the sparkling dots of light marring the darkness overhead.
“Those my dear, are called stars,” he told her as she felt a hand clasp her own. “And that over there is called the Big Dipper.”
Thayer’s eyes were finally getting adjusted to the dark surroundings that closed in on her. She was outside in the middle of the night, corned by branches and bushes of all kinds. Her father was drawn close by, holding her hand, sitting right beside her in the prairie’s grass. She continued to look up at the sky, trying to locate the star her father had recently mentioned.
“But where is it?” Thayer asked, confused. She continued to search for the glowing light, straining her eyesight, but giving up when she saw knew herself had failed.
Her father interrupted her quick search, now ending abruptly in defeat. All signs of first hand fascinated had evaporated, joining the room in the sky along with those lights that filled its emptiness. “Not where is it but where are they.”
Thayer held her chin higher, cautiously lifting her eyes to the topside surface once again after trying to locate her father whom sat not mere feet away from where she sat. She now knew that she was not looking for one star in particular, but multiple.
“See here child,” her father continued, his voice still calm and patient, as he took her pointer finger in his thick fingers. He gently guided it towards an oddly shaped arrangement of stars near the middle of the sky. “This is called a constellation, and this certain constellation is called the Big Dipper.”
Thayer’s mind buzzed with many uncertain questions. “But father, why is it called the Big Dipper? It looks nothing like a bird.”
Her father shook his head, his humorous smile masked by the darkness of the night. Of course she was referring to the bird named for their bobbing or dipping movements and their unique ability to dive and swim underwater, for the girl had only ever been in the outdoors.
“No child, I mean a Big Dipper as in a ladle or a large spoon. You see the handle here?-” Her father continued to move Thayer’s finger so that it traced the outline of a rectangular shape much thinner than the main body portion of the rest of the constellation. “And here is the ladle part, used to hold water. Mummy uses this when she serves us porridge.”
“But isn’t that just a big spoon?” Thayer questioned as she positioned herself on her father’s lap.
He shrugged as he welcomed the small child as she curled up wearing her small leather hide coat and mittens. Her feet were somehow shoeless, bare to the night’s cold touch, laced with frost and meaning to give colds.
“Where are your boots child?” He inquired, changing his inconspicuous astronomy lesson to his daughter. He was quizzical as to how she would have been able to be let out of the house without being caught without proper clothing.
“Mama’s asleep. I didn’t know. I’m sorry papa,” Thayer responded, cuddling closer to her father. Her eyes twinkled as the moonlight embraced her irises. They seemed to glow like the stars that littered the sky that hung above them. It was a soothing embrace she had in her father’s lap; the warm comfort of being next to someone you loved. It gave Thayer a sense of need, of want and desire; a feeling she knew was one of belonging.
“Are you cold, my dear?” Her father spoke, igniting the night with a frosty breath of protective words.
“No daddy. Can you please show me some more conciliations?”
Her father smirked as he noticed his daughter’s wrong pronunciation. She was a young girl either way, merely a pup in her animal form, not yet considered toddler in her human form. Her hair was very short, the kind of hair that takes forever to grow, inherited by her mother. Her eyes were abnormally blue and frightening vibrant as they seemed to light up any darkness that wanted to threaten to bring evil.
“Alright,” he sighed as he glanced up at the stars once again. “You see that star up there? That large one that is shining so much brighter than all the others?”
Thayer’s eyes widened as she unmistakably saw a large glinting object in the sky. It was so obvious to see it among all the other small twinkling lights that she wasn’t sure whether what she was seeing was real or a mere illusion.
“Yeah daddy, I see it! It’s so beautiful daddy. I wish I owned stars.”
Her father chuckled as he continued explaining what that star actually was. “Well my dear, that bright light isn’t actually a star at all, but another planet. A world called Swalden.”
Thayer crinkled up her nose as she continued to observe the glistening dot. She was confused, for she had never heard much about other worlds other than the one she currently lived in. “What’s Swalden?” she asked, trying to persuade her father to continue. She was very interested in what the stars were all about and where they came from, what they were, but she was unsure on whether her father thought she was tired and wanted her to go to sleep or not. “Tell me more,” she pressured her eyes gesturing an oncoming story.
“Swalden is a gas giant. A planet that is home to a vast crystalline ring. The ring, my dear, is entirely made up of beautiful, special gemstones called Memosites. People think that Qalaya and Semele plotted together to make those gems. Qalaya being the Goddess of memories: the wonderful things you can remember from the past and Semele being the beautiful mother of all creation. She practically created Mizahar, Thayer. She’s the earth beneath your feet, the rocks beside all trees, the gems found on crowns and necklaces, the minerals in the water you drink.”
As her father was getting excited about his story of the mother of Mizahar, Thayer couldn’t help but continue dwelling on the world of Swalden. She understood and comprehended all that her father spoke, sometimes retaliating the information back at him with questions like what Semele looked like and where Qalaya was worshipped at, but the idea of a complex other world out there intrigued her to the bone.
“Daddy, tell me more about Swalden,” Thayer urged, switching her position on his legs so that she found herself more comfortable. Her head was now on his knee, her legs hanging off the sides of his legs. She smiled up at him, although she knew not whether he could see her satisfied smirk or not.
Her father cleared his throat before he continued talking about the wonderful world of Swalden. “I have heard much about Swalden being a wizardry place. Portals occur here most, the stones resonating together to share the same knowledge so that they can communicate telepathically with their wielder, giving and receiving thoughts to one another. It’s very difficult to explain, and you are far too young to understand.”
Thayer was partially annoyed that she could not learn more about the other galaxies and planets out there, but she didn’t pout on the subject more than she had to, and to have her father continue telling her more information, she looked up at him with innocent eyes. She pouted her lips and tried to sew her eyebrows together so that they bent down in a babyish way. She would either seduce, persuade or force her father to tell her more. She was beyond fascinated with all this stuff.
“Who is Lady Qalaya really?”
Her father’s serious expression faltered as an unending smile formed upon his lips. He knew all about the Gods and Goddesses of life and loved to tell stories about them. He found Qalaya most interesting and was proud to have been asked to speak of her once again.
“Qalaya is the goddess of memory and writing and all the little things that goes on inside that little head of yours,” he stated as his fingers caressed her temples, having Thayer burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “She is the woman who is of all who tell stories, speak of the history and who seek to preserve the past. If you want to follow Qalaya you have to want to believe that the key is to want to understand about the world in which one lives in now. The world that will unfold the future is knowing and to want to embrace the past is needed. She causes you to dream about the past. She brings back wonderful memories as well as cursed bad recollections.”
Thayer grew timid as she took in all this information. Was this Goddess a scary person or just a tough lady who is sought out as threatening and provocative?
Thayer’s father must have seen her frightened expression throughout the midnight’s darkness, for he soothed her through petting her hair and telling her all was all right. “Qalaya believes that knowledge is power. She was the mother of writing, giving the knowledge to write to Mizahar, believing that without it, people would be unable to truly learn and grow. But she is very cautious on whom to trust since the Valterrian.”
She shrunk back at the mention of the world Valterrian, for she knew of that devastating time when all was crumbled to ashes and pain and terror. As though Qalaya was messing with her brain, she began to think back to bad times in her previous childhood. Nothing could compare to the Valterrian of which has happened to her. Nothing.
“What are some other Gods and Goddesses out there, daddy?” Thayer inquired, leaning her head against her father’s chest, looking up at him through glassy eyes and raven-coloured hair.
Her father ignored his daughter’s tired look that was easily portrayed in her glazed eyes just this once before continuing onto his most favourite goddess of all time.
“Her name is Cheva. She is the most wonderful Goddess of all. She is famous for many things and she is the one who gave your mother and I, you.”
Thayer perked up at her father’s wistful tone, his eyes moist with either fatigue or tears. Who could cause so much emotion to wash upon her father like that? Who could grant him the power to have a child such as Thayer? Why was this lady so famous and important in daily life?
Thayer’s father must have seen the confused look on her face, because he continued telling her about the wonderful Goddess, proudly named Cheva.
“Cheva is the Goddess of Love, passion, vows, and all leading up to the miraculous marriage. She is the one that is responsible for everyone knowing when a couple is ready to make a vow to be true to only each. This is when the two people join together in a marriage that Cheva has created through her power of love. She is open to all sorts of relationships as well, approving of more than pairs but of trios and quartets. If someone likes a male, yet they are a male, she accepts this, for she is all about love. She does not consider gender important nor does she consider an erratic age difference. However, Cheva’s love markings will not appear to a person who is unwilling or hesitant to love another. Love, passion as well as true devotion must be present for her beautiful marks to manifest.
Thayer was astonished. So whenever her father stole her mother meaningful looks, delighted smiles and happy eyes, he was in the honour of a wonderful Goddess, Cheva? Her mind was a whirl, a brain in the tumble of a washer machine. All of the information she had been given, yet the conversations had only started with the basic glowing dot in the sky! However, she understood all the knowledge she had been given from her father and from her own faithfulness. She now believed in more Gods and Goddesses than she could ever have imagined. Who knew!
“You look tired,” her father whispered into her ear. “But you best not be snoozing on me too soon, my youngling. You still have to make your entire family dinner!” With that, he picked his daughter up, whom had widened her eyes, ridding of all sleep at the sound of the sudden change in her father’s voice. It was a change from soft to excitement, something that would have caught the interest of anyone, or better yet, would have startled anyone.
“What’s for dinner, miss chef?” her father grunted in a matter of fact tone as soon as he stepped through the wooden door to the family’s personal cottage. They all knew it was terrible choice to build a cottage in the middle of Zeltiva’s woodlands, but couldn’t escape the fate with nature and their other half to care.
“How about we make…” Thayer racked her brain for suggestions when she looked at Toril, whom was mouthing an idea to her. “doughnuts?”
“No, honey, we can’t have doughnuts for dinner,” Thayer’s mother scolded in a playful way. “What have you been playing in today?” She gave her daughter a pat on the head before luring her over to the boiling pot of water on the stove next to where she stood.
Thayer hopped onto a wooden stool made especially for her, before looking over the lip of the pot to see that steaming bubbles continuously formed and popped at their every will.
“What’s for dinner exactly?” Toril blurted out as he jumped onto a seat at the makeshift dinner table. He already had both fork and knife in hand, yet no food had been placed onto the table yet.
“Whatever you want.”
Thayer’s pale face beamed, like the moon’s light on the darkest night. She could choose to make whatever she wanted to? That was something she had always wanted to do. To prepare a meal by her choosing with the occasional help of her mother, whom she had always loved for her meals and her motherly love.
“Potatoes!” Thayer shouted in a giddy fit, her face displaying pure gay joy.
Her mother irked up her nose, imitating a confused look although she knew with all her heart what her daughter wanted to make. “Potatoes?” She continued, eyeing Thayer conspicuously. “Why on earth would you want potatoes in the boiling water?”
“I want to make our favourite porridge, mama, with potatoes and carrots and spinach and cinnamon-”
“Cinnamon! Eviuko, the girl wants cinnamon in the meal.”
Thayer was confused. Why was her mother acting so strange, so ignorant and unusual? Why was she messing with her now that she knew somewhat how to cook her favourite meal? She couldn’t help but butt in to save her skins. “Cinnamon makes the taste come out. It’s a good spice and it’s healthy for you.”
Her mother looked down upon her with a smile on her face. “You’re exactly right. You need to peel the potatoes first! Peel, youngling, peel!”
So Thayer went off to the right hand side of the counter, a potato peeler in her hand, and began to strip the skins off the potatoes. She knew that the skins on the potatoes were the healthiest part of the potato, because it held so many nutrients and vitamins, but for their special porridge it wasn’t needed, for they were adding many other natural, healthy ingredients to make up for it.
Thayer placed the peeler on the side of the potato and thrust it away from her, the skin of the potato coming clean off. “Is that good mama?” she asked to make sure her technique was accurate.
Her mum merely smiled and set a hand upon her daughter’s back. “Perfect.” So Thayer continued peeling all other potatoes that way before splashing them into the boiling water in the pot.
“Careful my dear! We don’t want you to get burned by the water,” her mother scolded her after experiencing her daughter’s actions first hand. The back of her hand had just received a small burn.
“Oh no, mama! I’m terribly sorry! Let me go get you some bandages and some antibacterial medicine.” She sprinted through the small cottage, stopping for a splint second inside the family bathroom to retrieve a makeshift medical kit. With the tools in hand, she bolted back to the kitchen where she sat her mother down and took her hand in hers.
“Now there,” Thayer’s mama cooed as she watched her daughter take a tube of vasaline and squeeze it out onto the wound. She then moved to the gauze that was consequently placed near where the tube was, and wrapped it around her mother’s hand. “That took a lot of leadership, my dear child.”
Thayer smiled, her white teeth twinkling in the dimly lit room. The wonderful aroma of potatoes was brewing in the kitchen and both girls smelled it. Soon, the moment of solitary was interrupted when Toril shouted that the meal needed to have carrots.
“That’s right Thayer,” her mother warned as she led her back to the kitchen. “Rule number one you must never forget,” Thayer listened intently for her mother’s wise words, “never under any circumstances leave a boiling pot of water unattended, you hear me?”
Wow, Thayer thought to herself as she stood over the pot of potatoes, carrots and water. I’ve learned more than I thought I’d ever today. And with that thought in mind, she plunked several more leaves of spinach into the pot and stirred silently to herself.
The family was served, they ate well and Thayer was shipped off to bed thinking freely to herself about what she had been told today. She would never forget about the wonderful Goddesses Qalaya or Semele. She would never ignore the facts about the world Swalden or the gems its rings have. She would never lose memory of the stars and constellations up in the night’s sky or the technique to cook and stir potatoes in a boiling pot of water. Today was a day full of knowledge and experience and she would never forget it if her life depended on it.
Suddenly, her bedroom door opened, a thin streak of light shining through the crack it made. Her father’s lulling voice met her ears as his words spoke of someone else. “Sleep tight, good dreams tonight and don’t let Nysel bite!”
Now who in the world was Nysel?
