Headpats & Praises

As Korou stood by his gabled home, Atla gently ruffled his hair. He gave her a confused glance.

"Feeling better?" She queried after a quick hug.

"Yes...and thanks," Korou mumbled, his face still buried in her warm shawl. If not for Atla, today might have ended differently.

"For the hug? Or the help?" He could imagine her sly grin. It was usually invigorating, but today he found it lovable.

"Both," Korou replied earnestly.

Atla cupped his cheeks and pressed her forehead to his. Similar to when he was born. Her warm breath trickled over his face, as citric fragrance of silver-moon seeped in.

"And I am proud of you." Atla smiled. Her words pristine.

Korou, who awaited a lifetime to hear them, hitched a breath. He felt an urge to pinch his cheeks.

"Really?" He blurted.

It only made Atla giggle. Her eyes, only inches away, swirled in familiarity. She had expected this response. Korou could see that she did.

"Yes, a hundred times yes." Atla reconfirmed pulling away. He didn't want her to. "I am extremely proud of you."

"Is this a trick for you to make me train more in martial arts?" Korou, still in a daze and a wiff of denial, stuttered.

She laughed in a gilded pause.

"I really mean it..." He timidly murmured.

"It's called being nice, dumb brat." Atla tiptoed, her clasped hand behind her as she kissed his forehead. "And an acknowledgement towards your kind actions."

Korou staggered back. His cheeks are a hot mess. "Huh, what do you mean?"

"You apologised." She mumbled softly. "Took care of your friendship. And most of all, you accepted your mistakes. That is something you should be proud of."

With that, the yellow-stained Erum door creaked ajar. From it, a blanket of warm amber light shimmered over them. Korou, following its trail, glanced over at Sangoi-veranda. There, clad in a white chuba adorned with golden embroidered lines, stood Naobi. Her staff swayed down in a quiet tap.

"If it isn't for my apprentice." Naobi's scarlet eyes glinted in amusement.

"Grandma!" Atla shrieked in bewilderment. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi, Atla," Naobi shifted her gaze from Korou towards her granddaughter. "Didn't expect you to be here."

"That's my line." Atla sighed out. "And I am always here."

She shook her head and walked to her side. Atla then grabbed her satchel, a pair of golden scrolls, and a weathered book. Underneath the faint light from the hearth, Korou could see the faded Eternan letters scribbled over its cover in Teutonic tongue. It was the language of the central provinces, and newspapers also used it. He was still trying to learn it.

"Philosophiæ Magica Principa Mathematica." Naobi recited, catching his curious gaze. "It's a foundational work on the paradigms of applied Magecraft, mostly pertaining to the three laws and universal imaginary number theory." She paused, her lips curled. "It also establishes a coherent mathematical framework for precise explanation and prediction of fantastical phenomena."

Atla exhales deeply. "Keep the scholarly under the confines of your office, please."

"He had the expression of a lost puppy." Naobi retorted.

"He always has that."

Korou felt the urge to break their unsolicited violation of his expressive rights. And also, he wasn't a lost puppy. He was a prolific scholar from another world, burdened with glorious purpose.

"Also, it's an important reading for Parīksā; it would do you good," Naobi added, then pointed at Korou. "And for him, a preliminary reading while I am away."

"You are going away?!" Ignoring Atla's clenched jaws, Korou blurted out.

"Yes? Didn't I mention it before?" A blank stare settled on Naobi's face as a sheepish grin tugged over her lips.

"No, this is my first time hearing about it."

According to the paperwork, which now lay in the nether closet of his parents' room, Korou was to attend all classes except Athongba Leina, at the eighth-floor void chamber under Naobi. And it starts tomorrow.

"Don't mind her, Korou. Grandma's intellect puts the most prodigal scholar of Zaüber to shame, but when it comes to people, she is as lost as you." Atla winced and gave an exasperated smile. Korou could see that the girl had been through a lot.

"So she forgot?" Korou confirmed.

"More or less." Atla nodded.

"I would say, as the headpriestess, I am too busy, so it slipped my mind-"

"Grandma, shut up." Atla requested in the most commanding yet respectful tone Korou had ever heard. It made him gulp. And Naobi effectively pressed her lips shut.

"So about the classes?" Sitting by the Sangoi, Korou, who, along with Naobi, was ousted from his home, asked cautiously.

"What about them?" Naobi was still sulking, her staff resting over her lap.

"You tell me," Korou replied sharply, only to pause. It was out of habit. "I mean-"

Naobi shook her head and cut him off. She wasn't angry.

"No," Her fingers trailed over the curved shaft of her staff, tapping them, creating a silent melody. "It's also winter vacation soon."

"Not until a month." Korou sighed. He had waited for this. The class with the headpriestess, for how precariously gifted to him it was, was still something he wanted to happen.

"Patience would do you good." Naobi smiled and patted her satchel. "And I have already devised preliminary readings for you. According to Atla, you have been dying to read books."

"I don't know Teutonic lon."

"You will learn." She yawned.

"It's a new language." He tried to reason. "What about the terminologies? It is surely filled with incomprehensible jargon."

"Have you been following Athongba Leina's lecture?"

That made him shudder. "Yes." He hesitantly stammered.

"The you'll be fine. It is nothing you don't already know."

"But..."

"I have also prescribed Teutonic Grammatica and a dictionary." Naobi chaffed off the chalk dust from her sleeves. A show of her work as a researcher. "Both of which Atla will deliver..." She paused and glanced at Anemone from the half-open door. "And in case it all fails, you have a master at home."

Korou was perceptively aware of his mother's precarious position as an outsider within the village. And after the Iromi incident, even more so. He had tried asking her about the origins of her birth, but she gave him a rueful glance and replied: It's a faraway land.' was all she had replied. Afterwards, from within the confines of her room, Korou had heard muffled sobs. He never brought up the topic again.

"She is from Teutonia?" He asked in a guarded whisper.

"I wasn't supposed to say that..." Naobi turned pale as she shot him a pleading look.

Who's the master here? Where did your dignity vanish to?

"I won't tell a soul," Korou reassured her after a pause. He wasn't going to confront his mother, not after last time. But the desire to investigate her roots was ingrained within his scholarly framework. Thus, he scraped Naobi for information.

"I would have used the memory erasing spell if you had said otherwise."

"You can do that?"

"You have no clue."

Almost an hour later, Atla had walked out with a tray of warm soup and a humble serving of rice. It was all the food they were getting—a punishment for being late for him, and a disciplinary action for being forgetful for her master.

"You could have at least added the breast of Crownbill." Naobi moaned, her eyes a sobbing mess.

"Consider yourself lucky," Atla shot a stern gaze, making her cower. "If it weren't for Anemone, you would be eating blanched veggies."

Korou nibbling on his own piece, gulped. He made a mental note never to piss Atla.

"About Ma..." Korou brought up the topic again in measured speech.

"Not happening." Naobi swallowed her rice without batting an eye.

"You could at least tell me why she is here?" He reasoned.

"She loves your father a lot, and he loves her back." She shot back. "End of the story."

"It's not like I would tell her," Korou whispered dejectedly.

"I am sure you won't," Naobi placed her bowl to the side. "But I gave them my word. She will one day tell you herself."

"I wonder when that would be."