Memories of Home - Part 3

An hour of labor passes, the sun now barely peaks over the west horizon turning the sky and clouds orange. During this time, Sammi learns how Dean loves regaling people with tales of his son, Philip. As soon as they finish, Marta and Fiora come out of the workshop and greet them.

“They’re ready!” Marta says with excitement. “I–or, we–adjusted the fit so they should be tighter and better for long trips. Try them on!” She presents them like a true proud craftswoman would, and Sammi graciously accepts.

“Thank you…” Sammi says in astonishment. She couldn’t recall the last time she owned such pristine footwear. Sammi slips the boots on her feet with ease. She goes through the motions of stepping, standing on her toes then balancing on her heels. “It’s like they’re not even there…”

Marta and Dean prepare dinner together while Sammi waits outside in the brisk evening, looking out into the forest. Not letting a single rustling branch or snapping twig escape her vigil. Her attention finally being broken by Fiora excitedly running at her to let her know that dinner is ready. Fiora rushes back inside and Sammi, minding the ceiling, follows behind. At the round dining table, seats Fiora, Dean and Marta, along with a wealth of baked potatoes, beans and oven roasted goat chops neatly displayed on the table. After eating tree frogs, snakes and roots of unknown origin, it took every ounce of strength Sammi had to not devour everything in sight.

“Have a seat, my dear.” Marta says, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. Sammi obeys, sitting where requested, then begins rubbing her legs in anticipation. Right when Sammi reaches out for the exquisite smelling platter lying in front of her, Marta, Dean and Fiora put their hands together. “Let us give our prayers,” Marta says. Sammi releases a concealed sigh through her nose, and follows suit.

The family close their eyes as Marta begins. “Blessed be The Mother and her daughters: May Aris grant us her strong arms, Rin her loyal heart, Emily her astute mind, Fiora her creative spirit, Halima her vigilant eyes, Yeil her sharp wit, and mercy for the Lost Child. By Her grace.” As Marta finishes, she draws a line down her belly with her finger. Dean and Fiora both repeat the last line in the prayer, Fiora doing the same gesture as her mother while Dean draws a line over his heart.

“Can we eat now?” Fiora asks.

“Yes, darling.” Marta replies.

Sammi picks up a goat chop and takes a monstrously large bite out of it. The rich, savory meat overwhelms her senses. Her ecstasy vanishes when she notices the others staring at her in confusion and slight disgust, holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. Sammi delicately places the meat back on her plate and picks up the eating utensils next to her.

Sammi swallows. “It’s, um, very well done…” She says.

“‘Least we know she liked it, ey?” Dean says cheekily. The much less impressed Marta remains silent and Dean’s smile fades as he gets back to his dinner.

Fiora puts down her fork and reaches for her plate.

“Don’t.” Marta snaps. Fiora pulls her hand back with a disappointed look.

“So, Miss Sammi–” Marta says, “Dean told me you’re on your way to the capital. That’s a long way from home. Why come all the way to Tyriana?”

Sammi swallows another helping of goat. “To keep a long story very short,” She says, “I’m looking for someone.”

“Who might that be?” Dean asks.

Sammi stares at her plate, contemplating. “My… sister,” She says.

“Ye ‘ave a sister in Tyrmid?!” Dean blurts.

“Inside voice, Dean, please–” Marta says while grabbing Dean’s shoulder. Dean shrinks slightly, placing his hand over Marta’s and apologizing profusely.

“It’s okay,” Sammi says, “and yes. Though, we don’t know each other very well. And I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“What’s the occasion?” Marta asks, and Sammi clams up to the question.

Dean Quickly raises his hand. “Private matter I see, no need to tell us,” he says, and sends a glance at Marta, who lets the question go.

As Sammi cuts through her dinner, Fiora fidgets nervously in her seat. “Um…” Fiora squeaks, “Miss Sammi… does yer name have anythin’ to do with Lady Samira?”

Sammi gives Fiora a look of pleasant surprise. “You are sharp,” she says. “Yes, I was named after the 7th daughter of The Goddess. It’s a popular name back home. Though since her disappearance 78 years ago, many consider giving their children the full name of the missing daughter as disrespectful or an ill omen. So, Sammi for short.” Fiora voices amazement as Dean and Marta give an intrigued nod.

“y’know, we were close to namin’ Fiora after our Queen Emily,” Dean says. “But we thought a different demigoddess would be more fittin’.”

“Oh, don’t think it’s escaped me,” Sammi says, shifting her eyes slowly to Fiora.

Fiora’s face turns red as she sinks into her chair. “Oh, u-um–” She stutters.

Dean leans over to Marta. “Ye wanna tell the story, or can I?” He asks. Marta gestures approval, giving Dean an excited smile. “Well!” Dean shouts, clapping his hands together. “Our Fiora was born over in that barn, same with Philip. Once she was out and about, the first thing she did was cry, nonstop! We tried everything to calm the poor lass: I held ‘er, Philip held ‘er, Marta tried feeding ‘er, nothing! After what felt like an eternity, Philip then blurts out, ‘with her pipes, I bet she could out sing Lady Fiora!’” As Dean belts his signature hearty laugh, Marta gives a soft giggle, while Sammi covers her mouth to hide her expression so as not to embarrass Fiora any further.

“It was decided then that’d be ‘er name,” Dean continues, wiping a tear from his eye.

“For what it’s worth, I’m certain you could rival the Lady’s singing talent.” Sammi says. Her words cause Fiora to uncurl a little, though they make Marta perk an eyebrow.

“You say that as if you’ve heard Lady Fiora sing,” Marta says.

Sammi pauses, gulping another chunk of food. “Even I don’t get around that much,” she finally says, “though her talent is legendary. I’ve heard much about it. Even so, I’m sure our Fiora could hold her own against the goddess of song and dance.”

Marta’s gaze then falls on Fiora and her mouth curls into a smile. “That we can agree on.” Marta said.

“Mum…” Fiora said in a muffled voice after burying her face into her red hair.

“You’ve a lovely voice,” Marta shrugged, “I cannot deny.”

Now finding a moment of peace, Sammi finishes the best meal she’s had in months, and all her attempts to help clean are thwarted by the unwavering hospitality of her hosts. As they finish, Fiora quietly approaches Sammi and lightly tugs on her sleeve.

“Sammi, can I show ya me room?” Fiora asks. “I have a book tha’s ‘bout a girl who can talk to animals. I can read it to ya!”

“Hold on girly–” Marta says, “our guest needs rest, and you need a bath”

“...no I don’t…” Fiora protests.

“Actually,” Dean adds, “mum’s right. Ye do.”

“But… I don’t wanna…” Fiora pouts.

Sammi puts her hand on Fiora’s shoulder. “Once you’re done, I would be happy to read with you.” Sammi says.

Fiora looks at Sammi and her face lights up instantly. She runs up to her mother and starts pulling on her dress. “Mum, she could join us!” Says Fiora.

“What?” Marta says in surprise.

“Sammi can have a bath with us! She probably wants one too, since I smell half as well as she does.” Fiora states.

Upon hearing Fiora’s words, Sammi lifts her tunic towards her nose to take a whiff. Her eye twitches upon doing so.

“Well… if you’re not opposed…” Marta says, giving Sammi a weary smile.

“Oh,” Sammi says, “I’m not sure if-“

“I’d take ‘er up on the offer–” Dean interrupts, “got some bath salts from the Southern Shores. An’ it’ll be good fer yer knee. ‘While ago I hurt my back somethin’ terrible. An hour of soaking in them salts and I was rearing to go the next mornin’. It’d be a mistake to miss out!”

Sammi looks into the wide expecting eyes of Fiora and releases a sigh of defeat. “If you insist…” She says.

Fiora starts giggling and prances in place.

“Oh calm yourself, silly girl. Now get to the barn,” Marta says.