01.06 - She Came From Providence

Luc twisted in the water to see him standing a few meters behind. He had approached so quietly that neither sibling had noticed.

Their father’s lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes warm beneath the slight furrow of his brow. “Your mother sent me to fetch you,” he said. “Little Ann has been born. She’s healthy, and so is Lily.”

The tension in the air evaporated in an instant. Hannah’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Yes. But if you don’t hurry, you’ll miss the chance to see her before she gets comfortable in her basket and spends the rest of the night napping.”

Luc and Hannah both rose from the spring, the cool night air biting at their skin as they stepped out of the water.

They grabbed their towels, dried themselves, and put on their bathrobes to counter the chill, though neither seemed to care much about the cold anymore.

Together, they followed their father down the winding path from the hot springs.

As they neared the base, the lights of the housing area came into view.

Their father opened the door, stepping aside to let Luc and Hannah enter first.

The fireplace back at home held a faintly glowing ember that cast a warm flicker across the room. One set of couches and chairs surrounded a holo screen setup. Another ensemble faced the fireplace with a basket nearby.

Their eyes were greeted by a fluffy bundle of joy in a large basket padded with fabrics.

Ann was curled up beside Lily, the larger feline figure whose sleek ebony fur shimmered faintly in the light. Ann’s fur was pitch black like her mother’s.

She mirrored Lily in every way, save for her size and the single tail that flicked lazily against the soft folds of fabric. Her crimson eyes glimmered with curiosity, yet a hint of wariness remained as she looked at the new arrivals. Her tiny black wings were barely larger than a hand span and rested against her sides. Her forehead featured a small white horn much like her mother’s.

Luc couldn’t help himself as he crouched slightly while he extended his hand toward Ann. His face was alight with a wide smile.

Ann’s gaze flicked to him, and in a single fluid motion, she darted away. The basket rustled as she slipped behind Lily, peeking out with wide, mistrustful eyes. Her mother’s nine tails fanned out to shield her daughter from further intrusion.

Luc froze mid-reach.

His hand hung awkwardly in the air.

“Guess I came on a bit strong.”

“Let me try,” Hannah said. She stepped forward, slowly but deliberately, and carefully opened her hand, extending her palm toward Ann.

Ann hesitated.

Her eyes darted between Hannah’s outstretched hand and face.

A few moments of silence passed.

Then Ann leaned forward.

Her movements were graceful but cautious. The tip of her tongue flicked out, licking Hannah’s fingers carefully.

A soft smile spread across Hannah’s lips. “Right. See? I am not scary at all.”

Suddenly, Ann jumped from the basket.

She landed lightly on Hannah’s arm, then padded upwards with delicate steps. Her tiny claws gripped just enough to support herself without scratching Hannah. After reaching Hannah’s shoulder, Ann paused once more.

Finally, Ann rubbed her small cheek against Hannah’s, purring softly. The sound was a gentle vibration, rising above the crackle of the fire.

Luc stood frozen, his arms folded as he watched. A faint pout touched his lips. “Great, she is already playing favorites,” he almost whispered under his breath.

Hannah turned her head slightly, careful not to dislodge Ann. “Maybe instead of complaining and forcing yourself on her, you could just relax and let Ann take her time?”

The room grew quiet again. The only sounds were the rhythmic swish of Lily’s tails and Ann’s soft purring.

The silence was finally broken by their mother, Mary, who had quietly observed the entire interaction.

“Don’t take it so hard, Luc,” Mary said. “Just give Ann a little time to get used to you. I’m sure she’ll give you another chance to bond. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe the day after.”

Luc turned to face her, with an expression of frustration and resignation. “Right. Maybe tomorrow.”

“There’s not much you can do for now,” said Mary. ”Why not eat dinner and call it a day?”

Luc sighed.

His shoulders sagged as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

“Fine.”

Without another word, he turned and trudged toward the dining room, his steps slow and his head hung low.

Mary followed him, her footsteps light as she moved to his side. She spoke softly, but the effort seemed to meet with limited success. Luc’s replies remained short and distracted; his mood remained bad, despite her attempts to cheer him up.

Back in the living room, Hannah remained seated near the fireplace.

Hannah gently stroked Ann’s fur. Ann purred softly, her small body rising and falling with each breath. They shared a moment of quiet contentment, though Hannah’s gaze occasionally switched to where Luc had disappeared.

Luc returned shortly after from the dining room. His mood remained unchanged. He made his way toward the staircase that led to the second floor. But before he could ascend, Hannah’s voice broke the silence.

“So... Luc?” she asked.

He paused at the base of the stairs. “Yeah?”

Hannah’s hand stilled on Ann’s fur as she glanced toward him. “Not including the Fire Elementals, did anything feel… off to you today?”

Luc frowned slightly. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I felt… a presence. It was faint, but it came and went a few times this evening.”

“Might just be the fatigue from your last hunt.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said. She glanced down at Ann, who was now curled up contentedly in her lap. “Lily would have warned us if there was any real danger.”

Luc gave her a small nod before he went up the steps.

Hannah remained alone with her thoughts.

She stared into the fireplace. Despite Luc’s reassurance, a faint unease lingered in the back of her mind. But Ann’s soft purring was a steady rhythm against her hand, grounding her in the present.

“Probably nothing,” she whispered to herself, though the feeling of being watched hadn’t entirely faded.