A Sense of Family

The next morning, around seven, Kaethe stumbled into my room. "Uh-uh, C-Coriander says b-breakfast is ready, Terry," she stopped, horrified, as Aaron sat up in bed beside me, rubbing his eyes blearily. "A-Aaron! I didn't know you were there!"

"Neither did I," I said sarcastically. "You can go, Kaethe, we'll be down shortly."

As soon as she bolted out the door, Aaron flopped back onto the pillows and shut his eyes, yawning. I place a gentle hand on his faerie blond hair and smiled down at him.

"Come on, get up," I encouraged.

Aaron groaned and swatted my hand away. "I don't want to."

"But Coriander went through all this trouble to make you a fantastic breakfast," I protested, "she never does this for me."

Opening one eye, Aaron glowered at me suspiciously. "Really? Will we have to eat with everyone else?"

I weighed my options of telling him the truth and having him still make it downstairs. Putting faith in his decision, I told the truth. "Yes, probably. Coriander most likely went all out and made a feast for everyone. But they haven't seen you in so long. And Jorah wants to give a gift!"

"A breakfast feast," Aaron said doubtfully, blinking up at me with those wicked metallic eyes. "Alright, I give. I can't deny Jorah – her work is too splendid." He sat up and finger combed his hair, looking tired but still composed and in control. "Let's do it, then," he prompted when I sat there for a moment too long, looking at him.

Aaron sighed, "I know what you're going to say, and you should know the answer."

"What? That I was going to say I'm starving and if I don't get food now, I'm going to get cranky?"

Aaron smirked slightly, eyes sparkling viciously. "Yes, exactly that. Does Coriander mind if we show up in pajamas?"

"No, not at all," I said softly, getting out of bed and carefully pulling the covers up. I was already wearing a white T-shirt and blue pajama pants, but Aaron chose to sleep without a shirt, so as he went searching for it, I made the bed and fluffed the pillows so Kaethe would have less work. Finished, I found Aaron waiting by the door. He had been watching me carefully.

"What," I asked softly, walking to him.

"Oh, nothing," Aaron smirked and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, drawing me close for a kiss. I yielded to him and Aaron was quick, flitting out the door before I could call him back. With a small smile, I followed him out into the hallway on the third floor.

It was long and only had two rooms on that level, mine, which was three fourths of the level and included a bathroom and walk in closet. A third of the room had been shut off by a wall and turned into a small room for Kaethe. Small, but enough for her.

I trotted down the circular staircase at the end of the hallway down to the connecting second level hallway. This level was lined with small rooms that housed permanent or temporary residents, around twenty rooms. Some of them were empty or converted to a work room, like Jocelyn and Jorah's work room. Half way through the rooms, on the right side, the hallway relented to a staircase that lowered to the foyer, then abruptly continued on with the rooms.

Aaron was a few steps in front of me, and kept tossing flirtatious looks over his shoulder. When I caught up to him in the foyer I pushed him up against the wall. "Stop it," I growled, "you're doing this to annoy me."

"Doing what?" Aaron smirked, eyes iniquitous.

"Doing that," I kissed his forehead gently and propelled him forward to the closest door on the right: the dining room. It was already frothing with motion –the food wasn't on the table yet, out of respect for Aaron and I – but Abstracts were milling around, chattering away. The only one seated at the long, glossed oak table that could easily seat thirty, was Jocelyn. This disaster of a table that Charmaine and Coriander loved to fill was from my foster father: he had a strange taste in furniture, they all had to be huge, fancy and so far from anyone else's taste.

Jocelyn looked up from talking with Nyoka, the nuviera woman. Jocelyn was a sweet old faerie, with pale skin, a plump body, and weak, thin wings. Wrinkles were starting at the corner of her eyes and around the edges of her mouth, showing the effect of hundreds of years of gravity dragging at skin and bone. She immediately fixed watery purple eyes on Aaron and smiled, showing slightly yellowing teeth.

"Ah, young doctor. Come to visit us unfortunate faire folk?" She teased, holding out an arm to him from underneath a red shawl.

"No, grandmother," Aaron said, bending down and kissing her hand gently. "Never unfortunate."

I stifled a laugh at the "grandmother" bit. It was an old nickname from when Aaron was a few years younger and he thought Jocelyn looked exactly like his old grandmother who had died, and refused to go near her because he thought she was a ghost. That was when Aaron was a little more naïve and sweet.

"Fortunate to have you" Jorah leapt on Aaron from behind. Laughing, Aaron grabbed her under her legs and twirled her around, letting her cling to his neck. Jorah's wings fluttered madly as she collapsed into laughter.

The air left of my elbow became warm as an Abstract moved closer to me.

"Ignatius." I greeted solidly.

"Terrance," Ignatius returned, "how are you this morning?"

"Well enough," I said neutrally, "and you? Holding up under the brisk weather?"

He gave a laugh that was more a snarl, barring gleaming white fanged teeth at my little joke. "It isn't nearly as hot enough here as I'd like it to be, but this will do. I can always – warm things up a bit." He gave a suggestive pause, then continued, seeing I wasn't to be baited by that insinuated threat. "I heard things heating up between you and Aaron last night." His smile boarded on vulpine.

I gave him a sour look. "That isn't any of your business."

"It is when you're right above my room and making louder noises then cats in heat," Ignatius said darkly, silver eyes sparking. "I need my sleep, Terry, or I get grumpy."

"Oh, really? And you're suddenly Mr. Personality all the other times? Go blow hot air somewhere else and stop bothering me." I scowled to further my point and Ignatius gave, sliding away to resume his conversation with Pyralis, the only other hotblood I had under my roof.

Hotbloods were a slang name for fire Abstracts. They obviously controlled fire, and were closely linked to their other three Entities: water, earth, and wind. Together they formed what humans called the Personality Complex. It didn't take a genius to figure out why, and even the Entities found it fitting. Water Abstracts were quite calm: the violent contrast to fire. Earth was the quickest to be unbalanced and change, and the quickest to settle once again. Of the four, earth was the second most unpredictable, only to the winds. They seemed to have schizophrenia, with how much their personalities differed each day – or hour. As hotbloods were fire, coolbloods were water, warmbloods were earth and wildbloods were wind.

In general, they were part of the Abstracts that looked human. There were, however, things that set them apart. Ignatius and Pyralis both had thin bodies wired with muscles that resembled steel and rippled under tan skin when they moved. Their hair was in constant disarray, and was a deep bronze with auburn highlights, which served to severely accent their scintillating silver-red eyes. This was the most fascinating part of their lean, muscular bodies. Under careful examination of Pyralis' eyes – I was only allowed a look after forceful persuading – I found that the pupil itself was a light, shimmering red with no real shape. At their calm state, it seemed to expand to the edges of their eye and give the impression of a red gloss over a sharp silver background. When agitated, or calling their Entity, their pupils shrank to a pinpoint of sparking red. This curious display of their inward emotions was something so far contributed only to the Entities.

Ignatius felt my gaze and glanced over at me, annoyance flickering in his eyes. Muttering curses about hotbloods, I turned my attention to Jorah, who was presenting Aaron with his gift. It was a tiny vase with a long neck, in the shape of a plain cylinder. Seemingly melting from the edges of the glass were tiny butterflies, winding their way up to the lip of vase, where one butterfly separated itself and wound upwards on a fragile strand of glass.

Aaron looked stunned.

He opened and closed his mouth several times while Jorah shifted from foot to foot, waiting nervously for his appraisal or his disapproval. Finally Aaron managed a, "my God, it's gorgeous," and Jorah collapsed into nervous giggles of relief, wings fluttering.

"I'm happy you like it, Aaron," Jorah said, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. "But can I ask for it back so I may keep it safe for you until you leave?"

Aaron looked reluctant to part with such finery, but Jorah insisted it be kept safe, so he allowed her to whisk it off to a safe haven. Coriander, who had been watching the whole affair with intense eyes, decided it was time to eat, and swept through the door leading from the dining room to the kitchen.

"Everyone," I called, pitching my voice above the level of chatter. "I do believe Coriander wishes to start breakfast, so please, take a seat." As usual I found myself ushered to the head of the table by quick hands and Aaron beside me on my right. Nyoka took my left, as she always did, and the Abstracts fell into their regular places fairly quickly.

I looked down the table on both sides and found myself mentally laughing at my sense of family. Nyoka was conversing with Jocelyn, who was sitting next to her, followed by Jorah, Ilandere, Kaethe, Aaralyn, Conway and Isaura on the left. On the right was Aaron, Sanura, Ignatius, Pyralis and Coriander and Charmaine would be seated at the end when they finished serving. I noticed several vampires – with the exception of Conway – were missing. Anstice, Frayne and Fayre, two twin vampress, and Ranae were all not here.

Conway, a darkly handsome vampire, caught my inquiring glance and lifted one shoulder, clearly saying he wouldn't fight with them to make them come this early in the morning, even if he was their leader. Before coming to Inquiring Manor, which is what Jocelyn named my home, Conway was the leader of a gang of vampires fighting for a return to the old ways, where vampires didn't have to sign lists and receive blood every week from the local hospital as food. He fought under the notion that vampires could learn to limit themselves in their feeding methods and leave survivors – and they could, I was a walking testimony to that. But that went astray and his gang got attacked by rioting humans. He managed to defend as many of his gang as he could, but they were severely outnumbered. By the time I got there, only six of them were left among the ruin and Conway himself was in mental shambles.

I had taken all of them to my manor and called Aaron, having him inspect all of them for injuries. Besides open lacerations and mental unrest, Conway was fine, but it still took counseling from Aaron and me to convince him he was safe here and he did what he could to protect his gang. To make another thing clear, a gang is not a ne'er-do-well sort of thing; it is a gathering of vampires with a common belief. It is not meant to cause trouble, but to try and reach a certain goal.

So Conway and the other five members had remained here with me, but the sixth member tragically died from wounds that wouldn't heal, and that sent Conway into another round of grieving. But this time it was mercifully easy to pull him out, because the remainder of his gang was there to help him as well, and to give him their strength. Even though it seems strange, vampires are very cautious of feelings and often travel together for the sake of company to ward off empty nights.

Conway looked away from me, to his former conversation with Aaralyn.

It was quite clear to me, if not to them, that they were in love, which was very unusual. Abstracts had a common rule of no intermixing with other races of Abstracts, but many had done so anyways, hence the nuviera and niyens. Vampires seemed to have the loosest sense of the rule, but niyens had developed a sense of shame being an interspecies production of a faerie and a vampire. However, under my roof, the niyen sense of shame had melted from Aaralyn's life, leaving her absolutely smitten with Conway.

Niyens, under close examination, most resembled their faerie ancestors, with slight features and quick gestures and graceful manners. They were a quiet species, but perhaps that had something to do with their shame. Aaralyn was a superb example of her race, long, silken black hair that shone with deep purple hues in the light, and healthy white skin the color of smooth porcelain. Lips of strawberry curved into a soft smile hid the small points of her fangs, and lively, fierce green eyes blazed behind lowered lashes. Quiet, but deadly. Niyens were also known for their singing ability and rich voices, and Aaralyn was no exception. She sang like a goddess called down from the Haven, hence the meaning of her name: with song.

I half watched their animated conversation, and half watched the food being piled on the table in huge, steaming platters. Pancakes with every type of fruit, French toast, Belgian waffles, omelets, eggs in every form, toast and pots of jelly scattered about, crepes, blini, cheese strata, bacon, sausage, hash browns, pastries stuffed with sugared fruit, muffins, sticky buns topped with nuts and caramel, freshly baked bagels with a side dish of cream cheese or butter. Huge crystal bowls of freshly cut fruit salads were at each end of the table and topped with oats and a sprinkling of almonds.

Charmaine, a short, slender shifter came around with a pitcher of mineral water cold as ice, engaging people in spirited conversations. Her light features and golden waterfall of hair reflected the light bouncing off the crystal pitcher as she talked and smiled charmingly. When she came to me, she placed a small glass in front of me and smiled like I was the only person she cared to look at in the world as she topped the glass with water.

"How are you this morning, Terry," Charmaine asked prettily, brushing back some golden hair before continuing on to Aaron, waiting for my answer.

"Fine, and you Charmaine?"

"Doing rather well. And Master Aaron? I hear you and Terry cause a disturbance last night. Too bad I was outside; I heard it was quite a thing to hear," she winked and moved on. Aaron and I broke out of the sugar-sweet trance her voice caused and I flushed; Aaron simply laughed and sat back leisurely in his chair, looking at the top of the world.

Before I knew it, Coriander was at my elbow, following Charmaine's water with fresh squeezed orange juice. While Charmaine was calm, Coriander was quick and animated, going about her task with sharp gestures, an apparent contrast to Charmaine's fluid ease. But they both arrived in the same place at the same time with their work, and seemed very happy with their own separate personalities.

Coriander's long honey-blonde hair was spiked in jagged towers, and a nose ring glittered as she danced around me to fill Aaron's glass, giving me only a wink to show she acknowledged me. I smiled at her flashy red sundress she wore under her floury apron and the studs lining her ear lobes.

As soon as everyone had drinks, they stripped out of their aprons and sat at the end, giving everyone the signal to dig in. There was a flurry of movement; I sat back and let Nyoka and Jocelyn fill my plate. I could try and reach for whatever I wanted, but if they deemed it necessary, they would pile more food onto my plate anyway, so I allowed them to put a generous amount of food on my plate before I reached for what I really wanted.

Charmaine, intuitive to the last, had left the meat by Conway and Nyoka. This meant, however, my plate got piled with more bacon then I could possibly devour, and I had to tell Nyoka to keep some for herself. She complied with a series of clicks and half the serving vanished to her plate, and her mouth, within moments.

Jocelyn pilled a mountain of fresh fruit on the side in what space there was left, and left it at that. I had never seen so many fruit in one pile. Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries (which I secretly despised), watermelon, cantaloupe, orange, bananas, kiwi, grapes, pears, and apple. I gave Coriander an approving look at the fruit, who winked suggestively back, and started eating the meat first.

It was very good – salty and hot – but I wasn't a meat fan, and Nyoka and Aaron both ended up stealing some from my abundant plate. Conversations melded into one as I started quietly on my fruit, enjoying the conversation. It became quiet suddenly and I looked up to find everyone staring at me.

"Um…w-what," I stammered, sounding like Kaethe.

"We were wondering where we are going this year," Ilandere said smoothly, calling attention to her. "You know, for our family outing."

"And," Aaralyn put in, voice controlled but still leaking excitement, "if Aaron can come along."

Aaron, who hadn't heard of this before, choked on his bite of blueberry pancake and reached for his water glass. "I don't think that would be a good idea," Aaron forced out when he could breathe, looking sorry. "I have too many patients to attend to, Aaralyn, but we'll keep in touch, I promise."

I turned my attention back to Ilandere, a thinly built moon sprite, and asked her what brought this up.

"Well," she said slowly, summarizing the conversation into a few choice sentences, "every year you take us somewhere special, you know that, Terrance." The way she said my name made me feel like she was a ruler and I was some kind of servant. "And this year, we'd like to visit a city. San Francisco, we'd like to visit San Francisco." She looked around with moon-pale eyes, silver hair catching the light in a shimmering veil.

Many Abstracts nodded, including Ignatius and Pyralis, which I found highly interesting. While hotbloods were severely irritable, they also liked a sense of security, and home. When I took Ignatius in as a "teenager," it had taken him months to get comfortable, even with Pyralis' help. Pyralis I had no problem with, because I took him in when he was a babe, and raised him under this roof. His sense of loyalty to me was astounding, even for raising him, because hotbloods are notorious for just getting up and leaving, never coming back. So far, Pyralis hadn't done that, or even hinted at it.

"Why would you like to go, Pyralis," I asked curiously, leaning forward.

Pyralis twitched slightly, and frowned down the table at me. His silver eyes glimmered eerily with frustration before lowering to the table top, as if determined to burn a hole through the wood. "I don't know," he admitted, "I just…I would like to go. It sounds – it sounds fun." Bending his neck slightly, his bronze hair tumbled into his face, hiding his eyes.

" 'Fun.' It does, doesn't it?" I mused out loud. "I'll have to think on it for a while, my dear family, but I will tell you as soon as I can. I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best. Is that under everyone's agreement?"

There was a unanimous nodding.

"Good," I said loudly, "so that's settled."

I stared at my computer screen, reading the notes I had finished with a quick eye and calling it done. But that didn't mean I was finished, I still had my other class to account for, although it would be easier to write, considering I didn't have to talk in stupid language. Let's see, I mused, leaning my head back in my chair and staring at the ceiling, what should I start with this year?

My mind ran through all the different subjects until I came up with two.

The new race of LyVar (pronounced LI va)

Wildbloods

Wildbloods because they were getting ever more popular within the field research and because I had one under my roof now, and I felt like sharing my observed knowledge with my class.

There was a soft rap on the doors shutting off the sitting room from the rest of the house. I glanced at the doors. Speak of the devil.

Isaura stood there patiently, confident that I would let her in. Which I did, muttering the password under my breath and watching her glide in as if there never was a door there. She was a gentle creature, prone to small, quirky changes that caused her speech to jump about, making it hard to keep up with her.

"Hello, how are you doing," she didn't pause for an answer, just went on talking in her soft voice, "wonderful day today, isn't it? Yes, yes, I know. What am I doing here? I came to talk, talk to you about some important things. Yes, well, important to me."

"Talking involves two people," I reminded her stiffly, cutting in when she took a breath. Light grey eyes with penetrating black pupils locked on my face. "And if you ask questions, wait for an answer, Isaura. I can't keep up with the conversation without a word in edgewise."

"I…understand," she said after a moment, lowering her eyes.

"What is it, then?"

"Do you think…I could marry Ignatius?" Her flinty eyes lit on mine for seconds, then flitted around the room, focusing on a flowering purple plant just outside the screen. "Could I, Terry?"

I could tell she was restraining herself from launching head first into her explanation of why, so I shut my laptop and set it aside, thinking hard on the subject. All I could come with was, "Ignatius?"

She nodded earnestly, silvery locks shimmering down her back and falling over her shoulders at the movement. "Yes, Ignatius. Oh, please say yes, Terry!"

"Why would I say no," I asked pointedly, looking at her sternly. "Isaura, I am only the one who houses you. You are free to do as your heart commands, and Ignatius too. Both of you are my family, and if you are getting married, I insist you let me pay for the ceremony. Jocelyn and Jorah would love to put it together, I'm sure."

Isaura covered her mouth with a gasp, but I could tell she was overcome with joy. "Do you think so," she whispered.

I nodded seriously. "Oh, yes, and Kaethe would love to get your dresses and tuxes ready, too."

"This is wonderful!"

"Yes, but I'll have to ask you to tell Coriander and Charmaine; have them prepare a feast! I want to have a bonfire tonight, it will be a spectacular way to announce your wedding." I hesitated. "And I have one last request."

"What," she breathed.

"Tell me – why Ignatius?"

"Because," she said softly, curling her arms around her belly, "I carry his child in me."

"Is that the only reason? A child?"

"No," she almost yelled. Biting her lip, she apologized. "No, I'm sorry for yelling. Ignatius is sweet and gentle with me, and I need a soft place to fall. He has said he loved me ever since he saw me, which is a stretch, but I wish to be with him. Surly attitude and all, Terry. He asked me if I would marry him this morning, after breakfast and Aaron took his leave. Oh! Ignatius will be so happy to hear we have your blessing!"

That startled me, "he will?"

"Of course, silly! He looks up to you!" Isaura smiled when she realized I didn't know this, and continued. "Ever since I came here, he would visit my room at night, to help me go to sleep. He would tell me stories of your adventures, and of how wonderful you were to your family, and how well you treated every person in this house. It soothed me to sleep many times, Terrance. One day, he'll tell you he is grateful, but until then, it'll be our secret?"

I nodded and smiled, placing one finger to my lips. "I won't tell a soul."

Isaura returned the smile energetically. "So, I'll go tell Coriander?"

"Yes, please," I said, watching her skip out of the room. As soon as she was gone, I muttered the password under my breath and the door slid shut quietly. "Oh, boy," I told the purple flower. It nodded in the wind.

I sighed and leaned my elbow on the arm rest of my chair, cupping my chin in my palm and trying to think. All I could think of was – Ignatius is (going to be) a father!

Well, I should go delegate. I stood stiffly and stretched to get out the kinks, yawning slightly. This was turning out to be a blessed day indeed.

As I expected, Jocelyn and Jorah were absolutely ecstatic about the engagement, and Kaethe, who was in the room, promptly burst into tears of joy. They immediately agreed to my requests, and Jocelyn sent Jorah to fetch Isaura to start right away. Their work at hand seemed to have fallen to second place on their to-do-list. However, mine was growing.

Notes for advanced class

Lesson plans for said classes

Delegate wedding jobs – done

Tell Muireann – oh, boy.

Ask Conway when he has to feed.

Beg Nyoka to let me fix her eyes.

Look into San Francisco

Call Aaron at eight (on his request)

I checked my watch and found it to be noon. Muireann would appreciate an early visit, as she drew Power at night and that took concentration. That way, I can check off one thing from my mental list. Okay, well, I had better go now, before Jocelyn sucks me into the planning.

Excusing myself graciously from the old faerie's presence, I left her work room and trotted down the flight of stairs to the first floor. Muireann's hollow was about a half mile back in my eight acres, of land, bordering on the centaur and harpy's land.

My land is comprised as thus: one acre for my house and close gardens, like the ones outside my sitting room and the cook's; the next two acres or so was Muireann's domain, where few of my family members in the house ever went, because Muireann wasn't the friendliest. She favored some within my family, like Kaethe and Isaura and Conway, but no one could tell why she favored someone. Her realm was overtaken by knee height mist and plants, and her real living place was the small lake in the very back of her second acre, in the thickest part of the foliage. That's three.

The fourth and fifth acres fell to Nyoka's tribe, her nuviera companions who refused to be inside. That was a dangerous part to walk in, if it was anyone in the family house except Nyoka and myself. Or Aaron, as he healed plenty of them to be immediately recognized. I wasn't sure exactly how many of them there were, but the tribe started with fifteen members, and Nyoka their matriarch. However, like all species, they do reproduce, and it has been a good three years since I last set foot in that area.

And then we came to the last three acres, devoted to the centaurs and harpies. That was off limits to everyone, and I had to have a spectacular reason to venture back that deep into my property, before I would even consider taking a step over their territory. True, the leaders did come every two months to consult with me, but it was still a creepy place to be.

I followed a small worn trail into a seemingly solid wall of emerald foliage. I put out a hand and pushed away some willowy branches. Before me lay a path of cobble stone rocks pressed into the rich dirt, and dewy grass sprouted amongst curious, violent purple hydrangeas. The trees here were all willows, their tendrils falling like gentle green mist down upon my shoulders. I brushed through them patiently, aware of the cold fog crowding around my ankles – and growing higher.

I kept my eyes sharp on the path ahead of me, and kept my ears open to try and hear Muireann's hounds approach. But, as always, they emerged from the fog as no more than shadows, ears pointed forward, beads of water on their midnight coat.

They were Muireann's pride possessions. Large hounds of midnight black, they were waist high and had huge paws. Not to mention huge, glistening white teeth and lolling pink tongues. A definite threat.

"Hello," I said cautiously, holding out my hands. The leader of the five hounds took a bold step forward and sniffed my fingers, powerful jaws ready to snap onto my wrist at any movement. When he found my scent familiar, he whined and licked my fingers, tail wagging once. The other hounds immediately responded, wagging their tails and crowding around me, whining and barking.

"Shoo, shoo, pests," I swatted at their pointed sable ears, "be off with you, heathens!"

They scampered away, parting the mist with whipping tails, leading my way. I laughed and jogged after them, lest I lose them to the mist. The hounds were good about running back to me when they got ahead, not wanting to me to get lost. And it was a good thing too, because after this layer of thickening trees, the hounds were the only things I had as guides.