Capítulo 17: Wing Bones
Kir slept until midmorning, when he started awake, looking around to make sure the carriage wasn't on fire. He'd dreamed he'd gotten into a fistfight with a flaming griffin that made sound effects from some movie with a giant lizard that breathed out his own nova blast.
He'd gone to sleep theorizing about how his flight actually worked. He'd guessed that his wings had more to do with steering than lift, since a body his weight needed something like a twenty-meter wingspan and hollow bones, according to his very basic calculations and half-memories of the problem.
Then he'd vaguely remembered having a very nice calculator and the rest was sleep.
Finding everything alright, Kir yawned and shook off the dream as being what many dreams are: weird.
He hopped off the wagon lightly, trying to circulate his mana in his whole body and focusing on the notion of "up," and to his surprise he felt slow before touching the ground, his wings flapping just enough on instinct to keep him upright.
Then, because he felt sorer than when he'd gone to sleep, he did some stretches, starting with his clawed toes and tail before he went to pull on his boots and finish the rest of his body.
Kir's feet were something between digitigrade and normal, with four front toes and one clawed heel, able to flex to a degree that he assumed was for holding onto surfaces like a bat. But at least he could fit them in boots, once he'd modified them to open along the sides.
Drawing mana into his eyes, he did a quick check of the carriage, including under it, to make sure everything was really alright. The only magic signatures were those in the hidden compartment that was covered by his stuff. It contained books and artifacts his moms hadn't felt safe leaving at home.
His check revealed nothing wrong, and so he flew off to the corral to collect Lulu and Eda, calming them with a bit of dried fruit before he hitched them up.
He decided he wanted to surprise his moms, and so he paid the innkeeper - a nice woman with blue hair - to go get them, while he flew up onto the roof.
Some of the villagers looked at him, their eyes going from his wings to his horns and then to his tail, and he could see their faces go from potential fascination to likely fear as they wondered what he was doing up there.
Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long until his moms arrived, looking around for him.
"Did we miss him inside?" Darlae asked.
"I'll go-"
"I'm here," Kir said as he floated off he roof with a little flutter to hover, before letting himself land with a bright smile.
"Ooh, someone's been experimenting," Brigit teased.
"Morn taught me how to fly," he explained. "I gave her my old magic basics book as thanks."
"You mean the one with all the notes I was saving to study?" Brigit asked.
Kir winced. "I... forgot about that. I'll make it up to you."
Brigit sighed. "No need. I think I can puzzle through some things with the chart you made for me. The 'Periodic Table' alone makes alchemy so much easier... although I still don't like that you call everything on there an element..."
"And speaking of alchemy..." Darlae said, elbowing Brigit.
"Yes darling," Brigit pulled a pair of white, blade-like objects from her satchel.
"What are those?" Kir asked.
"They fell off your wings after they grew out. Your mother and I spent all night using the mana crystal you brought us to enchant them." Darlae explained.
"To be fair, I did all the circle carving, mana transference, and casting." Brigit clarified. "But Darlae gave just as much mana as I did to the cause."
"We wanted you to have something from both of us," Darlae smiled.
Kir took them in his hands. They were long, thin blades, and for some reason the word "kris" came to mind because of how they tapered, feather-like, to a point. He tested the balance and found them quite nice. They felt... perfect... in his hands.
"I... don't know what to say except..." Kir thought for a moment. "Isn't it kind of morbid that you saved my own bones to make knives?"
Brigit and Darlae flinched so hard they bumped heads.
Brigit recovered first. "Listen here you little brat! Those knives will have excellent compatibility with you since they were literally a part of you! It's like having a knife and a wand rolled into one! I'd have killed for something like this when I was your age!"
Darlae had better humor about it. "Amongst warriors, everyone knows that devil-made weapons are the deadliest. Some of them even grow with their wielders! Like there's this cursed sword that ate its creator and..."
Kir's mood grew darker as Darlae waxed into a tale that made his skin crawl. He definitely didn't want his own knives growing sentient and deciding he was better off feeding them...
"Alright! I'm sorry! I love them, really!" Kir finally raised his voice to stop Darlae from continuing her descriptions of the gruesome fate of those killed by Smiling Edge, a weapon she'd helped seal in Norneau's Vault of Evils.
As Kir hugged it out with his moms and expressed gratitude, his eyes were drawn to a familiar-looking carriage heading out of town.
Lugh sat on top of it, and his eyes met Kir's as he sneered in their direction. His sneer quickly turned into a look of slight confusion as he fondled the spell stone in his hand, clearly wondering why it didn't work.
Kir gave him the finger, but instead of understanding it, Lugh looked up, reminding Kir that in this world, they had a completely different gesture for the same concept. He hastily made the appropriately rude gesture just in time for Lugh to look down, and he got some small pleasure from watching the would-be knight's face turn red in anger as he tossed the ceramic token onto the street.
Lugh lashed his raptors hard with the reigns, and the cart finished its turn to head out of town. As it did so, Kir caught a glimpse of the girl sitting in the back. Lugh's sister had blonde-red hair, unlike her brother who was completely blonde, and she looked at him with eyes as green as grass.
He was letting go of his moms as the girl gave him a small wave before turning back to the book in her lap, and so he id not get to greet her back, seeing as he still had his new knives in hand.
"So," Bridgit asked "What are you going to call them?"
"Hm?" Kir made a sound.
"Every good blade has a name. I like 'Dragon Gutter,'" Darlae chimed in.
"What can they do?" Kir asked.
"Right now? Nothing you can't do with a normal wand or knife," Brigit said, adjusting glasses she didn't have. "But they are inscribed for durability. And as long as there's available matter nearby they'll fix themselves. Oh, and they're sharp on about the last five centimeters." Kir had taught his moms metric measurements, which they tended to use for precise things but not for big things like distance.
Five centimeters was not a lot of cutting surface, so they were definitely more for stabbing and maybe chopping instead of anything fancy.
"I'm pretty sure most knives and wands don't do any of that..." Kir said.
"In our house they do!" Brigit huffed.
"That's because you're cheap," Darlae teased.
"Alright, fair point. But we were thinking you can inscribe them yourself when you decide what you want them to do, Kir... since we won't be around to give you what you need."
That brought tears to Kir's eyes. He wiped them away, sniffing a bit hard as he held back the rest.
"I think I know what I'll call them," he said.
"Is it 'Your Moms'?" Darlae asked with a big smile.
Brigit facepalmed. "I swear, I can't tell if he has your humor or you have his... Besides, that would be so confusing for historians..."
"Maybe historians could use a joke. Tell all the great deeds accomplished with Your Moms," Darlae said, beating the joke to death for every gram of humor.
"I want to name them Bri and Dar, after you. That way it'll be like you're always with me," Kir said.
"Flatterer," Brigit and Darlae said at the same time; before Darlae punched him lightly in the arm.
He hugged them both again. "I'll miss you two."
"Hey, don't miss us just yet. You've still got us for three days until your testing is done," Brigit said.
"And if you fail, the Knights test year-round," Darlae squeezed him.
"I thought we agreed our son wasn't going to be a meathead like you," Brigit pinched her wife.
"Says the woman who became a battle mage because she saw a cute elf she liked," Darlae pinched her back.
"Alright," Kir said, pulling back at last. "Let's go see the big city."
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