Kits and Space Stations: Chiya and Ketvia's Story

"Mother. Ketvia. Can we talk?"

Regius's expression was sober, and Vir's, behind him, was anxious. Ketvia knew exactly what they wanted to talk about, and she was at least marginally prepared for it-- and she suspected Chiya had an idea, too, from the way she lifted her chin, visibly braced herself, and nodded.

They all four settled in the living room, Ketvia and Chiya on one couch and their boys on the other. The lack of a fifth body in the room still made itself felt, even after two months without Trip's mellow presence, and the chair set perpendicular to the two couches looked very empty. Soon, Ketvia guessed, so would the couch in front of her.

Neither of the boys looked like they wanted to speak, first. Regius seemed unusually uncomfortable, without his habitual lazy smile, and every time he caught her eye, he looked away again. Ketvia never thought there'd come a day when Regius didn't know what to say. Vir, too, looked unhappy, even more unhappy than his brother: he was staring fixedly at his paws, ears pinned back and tail flopping around like a nervous cat's. Neither one of them said anything, and Ketvia certainly didn't know how to broach the subject. Even if she had anticipated the topic, there was a chance she was wrong-- and if not, well, was it really even her job to start an awkward conversation?

It was finally Chiya who broke the silence. "You want to leave," she stated. It wasn't a question, but they both nodded miserably, anyway.

There was another silence, and this time Ketvia was the one who broke it. "Do you think you're ready?" she asked. They both looked at her blankly, so she clarified: "To go out into the world. Be your own people. Have those adventures I'm sure you're anticipating. Earn your own money, mend your own clothes, cook your own food."

The last made Regius look mildly offended. He had taken after Ketvia in more ways than just color and fighting prowess: he rather enjoyed cooking, as well, and learning the mysteries of the kitchen had been one of his unofficial sets of lessons. Vir shifted uncomfortably, but he was the one who answered, "I think so. And... well, we'll never know until we try, right?"

"There's still so much more I wanted to teach you," Chiya protested-- surprisingly dry-eyed and subdued. So far.

"You've been teaching me variations on the same stuff for three weeks," Vir pointed out, calling her bluff.

"And I don't really think there's much more you could show me with weapons that I won't pick up just fine on my own, in practice," Regius added before Ketvia could try something else. "Not with any of your usual ones, anyway."

Given that he'd moved on to interests in much more exotic weapons than Ketvia had ever deigned to learn, he had a point.

"But you're still so young!" Chiya almost-whispered.

The boys exchanged a look, then Vir held out a hand. He'd gotten so good that he didn't even need to speak the summoning spell: a pair of folded papers appeared above his hand, then dropped onto the palm. He offered them both to Chiya without a word, and she frowned as she took them. Ketvia peered over her shoulder curiously and read what looked like letters, both written on expensive-looking blue paper and in hand-written ink. She recognized the script and materials as coming from Doctor Schroeder on the Abstract Destiny.

"What're these?" she asked, confused.

"They're letters telling us we have cyborware tokens waiting to be redeemed on Star City," Regius answered.

"They came three weeks ago," Vir mumbled.

"You get them," Regius finished, "if you hatch from the Destiny, once you're an adult."

"Who decides when you're an adult?" Chiya exclaimed. "Someone who doesn't even know you, or your mother?"

Ketvia coughed. "Chiya, your mother still doesn't think you're an adult. I don't think mothers count."

"Doctor Schroeder sent us those letters and reserved the tokens," Vir explained. "And... well, I don't think he needs to see us, to know that kind of thing. I mean... look at the letter. He complimented me on finally mastering silent magic-- and I hadn't been able to last time we saw him. He had to have found out somehow."

"Sometimes I think that man knows everything," Regius grinned, but it was a wan grin.

"So you think this--" Chiya held up the papers. "--means you're grown up?"

Regius lost even that small grin, and Vir shrank in on himself. "You know we grew up faster than normal," Regius pointed out. "Who's to say that two years isn't grown up, given what the doctor did with us?"

Chiya didn't have anything to say to that; she just ran her fingers over the back of her neck and looked unhappy. Even to Ketvia, two years hardly seemed like enough time to raise a kit, teach him how the world works, teach him his history and the history of his people, teach him magic and the skills he'd need to leave home. But they had learned quickly, both of them, as if their brains had been sped up along with their bodies. They did look pretty adult, or at least as "adult" as any fifty-year-old. Both of them were taller than Chiya, though neither of them topped Ketvia's height-- dragon-formed, anyway. Both of them were taller than Ketvia, human-formed, which was admittedly irksome.

"Mother, I know it's hard," Vir finally said. His voice was pained.

"But we can't stay forever," Regius agreed, not unkindly. He might have been mocking at times, but he was never really unkind, especially not to family.

Chiya bit her lip, and asked faintly, "But can't you stay for a little while longer?"

Again the boys exchanged a look. "We thought it might be easier...."

"You know, if we got it over with."

"After Trip, and all...."

"Then you wouldn't have to go through this twice," Regius finished. "You'd get it all over with."

Regius thought a lot like Ketvia did, in that. He was also probably right, that it would be easily to "lose" all three children within the same short period of time. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, but....

"Will you come back?" Chiya asked finally, after a very long silence. Her voice was tight, and this time Ketvia could hear the threat of tears.

"Of course!" Vir exclaimed uncomfortably, shifting and staring at her incredulously.

Regius one-upped him and reached across the space between couches to grasp his mother's hand. "Regularly," he promised. "Once a year, maybe. Once every other year, if we can't manage every year."

"All right," Chiya sniffed reluctantly. "All right...."

To forestall a storm of tears on everyone's part-- that could come later... privately-- Ketvia cleared her throat. "So. Given any thought as to where you're going, then?" At the boys' blank stares, Ketvia snorted a laugh. "Well, better start thinking."

"You could give us a few ideas," Vir said delicately.

Ketvia grinned. "I could, at that."