Birthday

It's been three years.

Osric sits on the fence, flipping through his magic book, occasionally glancing at Elayne and Randolf’s sparring match.

It’s almost too fast for him to follow. Elayne, who’s much taller and reaches the middle of Randolf’s torso, sends out a flurried combo of strikes, starting with an overhead swing that flows gracefully into an underhand strike. In a smooth arc, her sword hovers above her head and then comes straight for Randolf’s stomach in a horizontal slash. Randolf’s sword seems to flash to every new position, blocking her strikes, yet he is being pushed back toward the fence.

“I’ve pretty much tried every spell in this book,” Osric mutters, thumbing through the pages. "Except for these water spells that create a rainstorm." He reads the page about casting storm spells in the water magic section. These incantations are way too long. If only there were a way to shorten them.

“Let’s see. To cast a water ball, it’s, ‘Divine wisdom, drown thy enemies, aqua pila.’ Is all that really necessary?” Osric scratches his chin.

He sticks his palm out. “Drown thy enemies, aqua pila!” he chants.

A small orb of water appears in his hand, then shoots across the yard, over the fence, and into the meadow in the distance.

“Cool. I don’t even need to say ‘Divine wisdom.’ What does that even mean anyway?”

Elayne lets out a shrill grunt and tumbles onto the grass, her sword twirling through the air.

“Elayne, what did I tell you? You’re fast, But your swings are too wild. A good swordsman can easily block those telegraphed swings” Randolf says, offering her a hand.

“They're not wild swings!” she shouts, taking his hand.

“We’ll work on it.” Randolf heads toward the door.

>>>

Osric settles into his chair at the dinner table, watching his mother place a basket of candy apples next to a fresh apple pie.

“What’s with all the apples?” he asks.

“It’s Elayne’s tenth birthday,” Catalina explains, placing plates of her 'pizza' in front of everyone. The pizza being just slices of bread with melted cheese on top.

Oh, that’s right. I forgot. And it’s not like she’d remind me. Things have been weird ever since she told me I looked like a kidnapper. We live in the same house, but don’t talk. Osric glances over at her. Elayne surveys the adults around her.

Elayne slyly reaches over the table to grab a candy apple.

“No, sweetie, wait for Randolf,” Helen says, grabbing her arm.

“Happy tenth birthday, Elayne,” Randolf hurries down the stairs, carrying an oblong object wrapped in cloth.

He hands it to her across the table. “It’s customary for young warriors to receive their first blade on their tenth birthday.”

She unwraps the cloth, revealing a small sword, barely larger than a dagger. She removes the leather sheath, revealing a shining silver blade attached to an off-grey hilt with a leather handle.

“Well, what do you think?” Randolf asks.

“It’s heavy,” she says, swinging it gently.

“Don’t swing that at the table, dear,” her mother reprimands, grabbing her arms. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” Elayne mumbles.

“Happy birthday, dear. I hope you like the apple pie. I got the recipe from my father’s maids. Hopefully, it turned out alright.” Catalina sits down.

Osric watches everyone settle in and begin eating their 'pizza'. "How come I don't get a big celebration like this?" he blurts out.

"You will, for your 10th birthday," Randolf says, taking a swig of cider.

>>>

Osric leans against the fence, watching the festivities from the front yard.

The village dirt road is lined with makeshift wooden pillars holding lanterns, casting a warm orange glow that mixes with the evening sun. Further down the road, a tall bonfire erupts from a central pyre. Many wooden tables are set up around it, people merrily drinking near stands holding beer kegs. Several villagers dance around the fire, their movements kept on-beat with help from the rhythmic clapping of the audience.

Among the villagers, Elayne and Helen emerge, walking toward the house.

“But Mama, I want all of them!” Elayne whines.

“Sweetie, you can’t buy the necklace, the dried meat, the dagger, and the hat. We spent all the money Master Osric gave us.”

“But Papa would have bought them all for me.”

“I know, dear.”

Elayne suddenly picks up her pace, sprinting past her mother, past the fence, and through the front door.

“So, did she get what she wanted?” Osric asks.

“Well, it was hard to choose. There were so many vendors,” Helen says, walking up beside him, leaning against the fence. “She settled for a necklace and some jerky.”

“Is a necklace really what she wants? I didn’t peg her as the jewelry type.”

“The necklace looks just like the one her father gave her.”

“Oh.” Osric turns away, regretting his statement.

“I must get back to your parents. They asked for my help setting up some stalls,” Helen says, heading down the path.

Osric heads inside. Elayne sits at the dinner table, chewing on a candy apple.

“So, um…” Osric stands at the doorway, scratching his chin.

The scratching intensifies as the silence grows longer.

 “Sorry I forgot your birthday last week, but I hope you were able to buy what you wanted from the festival.”

She nods, her cheeks puffed out as she chews.

“That’s good. Your mother went back to help Randolf and Catalina.” He steps back outside.

It shouldn’t be that hard to just say happy birthday, Osric thinks, going back to the fence.

As he watches villagers dance, the grass rustles behind him. Elayne walks up beside him, candy apple in hand.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her mouth full.

“You’re welcome. And happy birthday.”

A long pause follows, the two stare out at the festivities down the road.

Osric glances at Elayne, painfully reminded of how much taller she’s grown — and how little he has. Something catches the sun at her chest — a silver chain necklace with a blue crystal, gently swaying.

“What are they celebrating?” Elayne asks.

“That,” he points at the crescent-shaped sun, “it's a partial solar eclipse. They call it the Holy Crescent. Apparently, a partial solar eclipse occurred the day the original king and Grand Sage defeated the Demon Lord.”

“The Grand Sage? That’s you, right? You defeated the Demon Lord?” she asks.

“No, that was the original Grand Sage. I’m the new one.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Osric shakes his head, exhaling though his nose.

Elayne doesn’t respond. A long pause follows. The silence occasionally interrupted by distant clapping and laughter.

“Are you not going to help your mother?” Osric asks.

“She’s fine. Why aren’t you over there?”

“I’m not allowed to leave the house until I’m ten, remember?” he says with a short laugh that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“I’ll stay here then.” Elayne hops up on the fence and settles down next to him.

The two of them fall quiet again, gazing out at the festival.