Wife, Mother, Reluctant Hero: Part Four

“Okay. Okay. Alright. Wait one…”

Alec ran his hands over his face. It still felt like he was sleeping, despite the evidence before him. He took a long sip of water as his wife, son and daughters watched.

“Okay.”

Another long pause. His foot slowed its continuous tapping on the carpet slightly. The living room clock chimed five in the morning. Nobody was tired. Everyone was exhausted.

“So…you ran into the woods. You found the legendary sword of the Hero. It…what did you say, Hunter? It called to you?”

“It…felt like it did, yes,” Hunter said, his confidence clearly low.

“It was surrounded by nightmaren. Let’s…we can deal with nightmaren being so close to town later, I guess. So you run at the nightmaren…”

“I still don’t understand how you could be so dumb,” Rose said, her arms crossed.

“They could have hurt the sword! The world needs it!” Hunter shouted.

“And we need you! Mom would have had to watch you…”

“Enough.”

One word from Samara was all it took. Both children stilled.

“And then you…gods, you killed three nightmaren by yourself?” Alec asked his wife. She looked at the sword in the corner leaning against the coat rack.

“I don’t know how to describe it. I knew Hunter would be hurt and it was like the thing…like it offered me a hand. Before I knew it I was holding it and these words were coming from my mouth…”

“Like you were possessed?” Lily asked.

“No. Like…what I wanted to say was forced out of me. The dialect was the sword. The words were mine. The name I gave it, Mutterklinge, I don’t know how I know the ancient word, but I know it means Mother Blade.”

“Why did you have to name a sword? It’s not a baby or a boat,” Violet asked through a yawn.

“The Hero isn’t like someone being reincarnated,” Hunter said. All eyes went to the resident Hero expert. “The first Hero to stand against Vigon, Lord Sed Stromm, called his sword Storm Breaker. But he said the power didn’t come from him. It chose him. The sword wasn’t even a sword until he forged it. He called it a light from the heavens, delivered at their darkest hour. When Sed died, the sword plunged itself into the ground.”

“Where it popped up ever few hundred years to find someone to match the heroism of Sed,” Alec said slowly, finishing the story as he squeezed his wife’s hand.

“This is insane! I don’t want this! I want to bake pies and clean the windows and complain how the train between here and East Rufford is always three minutes late!” Samara said.

“Can’t mom give it to someone else? I’m sure there’s a bunch of knights who want it!” Daisy said as she walked over to the sword.

“Don’t touch the sword!” Samara and Hunter said at the same time. The little girl slowly backed away, pigtails swaying.

“It doesn’t work like an old bike,” Hunter sighed. “Mom named it. The sword went to…went to her.”

Samara’s eyes narrowed at the hitch in his voice.

“She was meant to have it. The power which let her kill the nightmaren won’t work for anyone else.”

“Stop.”

Hunter’s gaze snapped to his mother.

“You are not a failure, Hunter.”

“I didn’t…”

“A mother knows. You don’t have to say anything. Yes, you wanted the sword for yourself. You also wanted to protect it from those monsters. You are brave and reckless and kind. What you are not, what you will never be, is a failure. Got it?”

Hunter said nothing. He simply looked down and nodded.

“I suppose I won’t get better from you right now. Alright. Here is what we will do. I am going to sleep for approximately fifty seven years. When I wake up, we will contact the police, who will contact the knights, who will tell us what to do. Luckily today is Saturday, because I doubt we could be normal.”

“Smart thinking,” Rose said with an amused huff.

Samara got up, stretching slightly as if it were a normal morning where she woke up a little early to prepare breakfast. Then she made her way to her son and pulled him up.

“Bed for you too. No arguments. You need it.”

Hunter looked for a moment as if he wanted to fight the advice. Then he gave her a thumbs up and a brief smile before heading to his basement room. Samara aimed for the stairs, Alec’s hand in hers. She stopped at the bottom of them and turned to her daughters.

“Do something productive. Don’t touch the sword.”

With those words she and Alec went upstairs.

*

They laid down on their bed. It seemed like an eternity since the previous night.

“Are you okay?” Alec asked.

“Technically I’m better than I’ve ever been. I feel strong, connected to something powerful. Like I could bench press a dozen horses. But…”

“But. Yeah. This will…I don’t know what our lives look like now. You have to be the Hero. The king will want you to live there, go on missions, fight monsters and…”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t thinking about monsters or kings when I said but,” Samara said, her eyes closed, sleep coming quickly.

“What were you thinking about?” Alec asked, pulling her closer to him.

“Hunter. His eyes…Alec, our son waited his entire life to see the Hero of legend. I remember when you first told him the stupid legend. His eyes did this…sparkle thing. But tonight, after I killed those awful creatures, the sparkle…”

Her voice became softer, her breathing steadier.

“I saw it…go out…”

Alec held her, treating her as if she were precious and powerful all at once.

“Don’t believe you’re his villain, my love. You’ve always been our hero, Samara.”

The sword and its new owner slept. There would be time for heroes and villains later. In those brief morning hours, however, there was simply peace.