"Your father came with me this time, Kamiéra," Alleisa sa'Amdresa dil'Falein announced with a stern face that turned into a beaming smile as eight boys and girls ran, screamed, toddled, and laughed their way around her eldest. "As did your brothers and sisters!" she yelled over the chorus of young voices.
Kamiéra had never met these people before in his life, and yet his heart nearly burst from his chest for the love he instantly felt for them. This was his family. In the dim recesses of his mind, he was aware of a thousand failings with his almost-family of the time before his real life, and so was determined never to repeat those errors again, now that he was truly living. He hugged and kissed those roughly his age, and reached down to scoop up smaller ones. The boys pushed away to run to the long table, while the girls threw an unending stream of questions and exclamations at him.
A tall man of Kamiéra's coloring, bearded and clearly still ready for war, walked in and gave a slight bow to Kamiéra. His stern face cracked almost immediately into an enormous grin, and he spread his arms wide. "It is not only your siblings who have missed you," he said.
Kamiéra raced to his arms and hugged him, because in that moment, he knew that Odrem da'Falein was his father, and he loved him as much as a child could love a parent. His mother embraced them both, and he felt tears running down his cheeks.
It was Odrem who finally and clearly reluctantly broke the moment. "We have only until sundown, Kamiéra," he gently noted.
Kamiéra nodded as his father placed his starmetal blade over his mother's in the traditional way; joined, but overlapping, the Witchspear supporting the Blademage as he protected her. For some reason, the feeling of seeing the ancient arrangement in real life, performed by his parents, seemed to echo down to his soul.
Autumn Dawning, perched between light and darkness, was one of only two days each year in which a novice could receive visits from family. By tradition, in this, the second Academic year, Autumn Day was a chance to show that a novice had learned duties of humility and obedience, while still retaining a sense of self. Most of the girls had spent hours laboring over poetry to please artistically inclined parents, speeches for those for whom politics was second nature, or intricate battle plans to re-fight famous battles to different outcomes.
Kamiéra had cooked a meal for everyone.
Every novice learned to prepare food, because every novice and every Witchspear had to eat, and there would be times -- no matter which Path they chose, no matter if they chose hearth and home or a Cloister -- when one had to be able to cook for oneself or others. He had discovered that fifteen years of complete indifference to anything other than the best techniques by which to smear ground legumes and oil on one piece of bread, and sugared fruit preserves on the other, had left him woefully ill-equipped to survive in a world in which refrigeration was only a combat tactic for some Gifted.
So while he was had found an appreciation of poetry he'd never imagined when he was falling asleep wondering how someone could get excited about ancient pottery, had discovered a natural gift for field oratory, and had finally realized why Karyn and Leonard got so excited about Risk, he had decided he would do something he had never done well and still only did passably, to prove to himself that he could.
He had personally applied every hunting, preparing, skinning, filleting, cooking lesson he had absorbed over the last two years, and, still having some of the taste of a boy of his time, had ad-libbed to add some different flavors to what were inhumanly plain materials by the standards of his old world. He also took pride in serving this family he'd never known but now loved more than his own life.
Baba's and Mama's faces made it worth it. "Apparently, you've discovered a gift for cooking to go with your sudden interest in smithing," Odrem rumbled around a full mouth. Alleisa seemed a bit more cautious, but still almost radiated pride as her eldest raced around the table to feed a brood only Gifted could manage.
The aforementioned brood's reaction was much more mixed. The youngest three rebelled against the food, different from what they'd known their whole, short lives; the middle two girls seemed torn between delight, trying to eat as slowly as their mother, and wanting to joke at what seemed something between a formal and informal occasion. The oldest three were boys whose bodies were about to launch, or were mid-launch, into the next great expansion adventure of their lives, and so would have eaten boot leather had it been properly coated in something that could be mistaken for a gravy.
Kamiéra didn't care. He was so giddy about the entire thing -- he was one of nine siblings! Of course he was! He'd never dreamed of being part of a family so large! Of course it was perfectly normal, both his mother and father were Gifted! What a blessing of the Mother and Father it was to be part of such a large, loving family! -- that he almost forgot to serve himself.
As he sat down to eat at his father's side, opposite his mother, he realized they'd been waiting on him. Before he even had a chance to speak, Odrem waved away the look on his face. "Come, eldest," he said, with an expansive wave at the plate in his child's hand. "Eat and let us enjoy your company. We have wonderful and terrible news."
He gave Kamiéra a few minutes to say her blessings and begin eating. "As you know, your grandmother is approaching the final walk to the Garden," he began. Kamiéra certainly knew that now. "I have decided that your mother will take her Seat in the Chamber of Families." The wry look from across the table did not go unnoticed, but he plowed on. "We feel that even with the little ones in train, she has a better grasp of that nest of adders than I. But this means we need a Falein to take over the Mastery of War." He gave Kamiéra a very level look.
It took the full time to finish chewing, swallow, sip some ice wine, and dab his lips for Kamiéra to realize where that was going. "I?" he managed, never thinking for a moment to use the object pronoun as a subject.
Mama laughed. "Not yet, daughter," she replied, clearly reveling in the look on her eldest's face. "You need to graduate yet. But soon. I have enough ten-spans that caring for an infant and three little ones while Sitting will tax me beyond overseeing the House forces."
Kamiéra nodded then paused. "Wait. An infant?" He suddenly noticed his father's beaming smile. "Mother! This is wonderful but-"
"--none of your affair," she finished with a dry look. "Let your father continue."
"You will choose the Path of War." The kind, jesting look was gone. This was a House matter and Odrem da'Falein was the Head of House Falein. It was not a request, it was not a command, it was a simple declaration of fact.
Until that moment, Kamiéra had toyed with all of the Paths, and had looked forward to finally choosing his. Just that suddenly, he realized he would choose the Path of War, which made perfect sense in hindsight; his House's needs and his own skills set him perfectly on this Path. He had no idea why he'd ever thought of any other.
