Chapter 6 - Spring, Spring, Spring

Time went on.

Emilia gave birth to a boy, who they named Donovan, after a long-dead relative of Darrel's. Donovan himself grew into a chubby-cheeked, sunny toddler. 

Donovan, being the baby of the family, had the nursery to himself, while Rhea and Maranda, who was now old enough to attend elementary, although only just, shared what had previously been Rhea's room. Gone were the days where Rhea had been able to retreat to her own space, and gone were the days when Maranda had been a toddler who didn't understand much of anything. 

The twins had moved on to middle school, and now were navigating the difficulties of not yet being teenagers, but starting to have crushes and hurt feelings and all sorts of things. However, their own friendship hadn't wavered, and tonight, as Maranda sat in her and Rhea's shared room, Rhea was playing Voidcritters with her brother in his room. 

"Hey, Ray..." Marcus said slowly. "You know Aunt Gemma?" 

Rhea attempted an attack, only to be blocked, and nodded, uninterested. Since Minerva's passing, Gemma had stopped speaking to them, and as the years had passed, she'd become something of an unspoken subject.

"I saw her with her boyfriend the other day when me and Chanel went to San Myshuno." He dropped his voice even lower. "They were picking out spices, and..."

The memory of meeting her grandmother there flared into Rhea's mind and she shook her head. 

"It doesn't matter, Marcus. Aunt Gemma's stuff is her business." She cleared her throat. "Besides, she doesn't speak to us anymore."

Rhea was not wrong. Gemma had not spoken to any of them since the funeral. Marcus couldn't help but think on it, though. Gemma and her boyfriend had been very close, as if trying to keep as close to each other as possible. He'd almost wanted to go up to her, but memories of the funeral made him hang back, watching while Chanel was distracted at a food cart.

Chanel. That was also a big thing. He and his best friend were almost dancing around each other at the minute. He wanted to ask her out, but he didn't want to be weird, and he liked having her as his best friend. So instead, they'd been spending a lot of time at the weekends going...out, as it were, but not on dates. It was really confusing.

In the shared room, Maranda was doing her homework. She and Rhea shared a desk, which made things complicated sometimes, but she was happy to wait until Rhea went to do something else.

Maranda did wish, however, that sometimes the twins would let her join them while they played Voidcritters. They'd given her some cards, and she was even allowed to use Rhea's Battle Station when Rhea wasn't using it, but it sometimes felt very lonely, despite the house being so full. 

Her homework was relatively easy, which let her mind wander. Maranda had the sort of mind that liked to wander around if it wasn't occupied, which meant while her homework was being filled in, part of her mind began to idly wonder whether everything was quite alright at school. She, unlike her siblings, wasn't immensely popular, people seeing her as kind of creepy. What she'd done to deserve that, she didn't know. 

However, there was one thing that seemed important. Last week, the local Scoutmaster had come by the school with a girl Maranda vaguely recognised at his side, advertising the Scouts to anyone who was interested. Maranda had taken a leaflet, and later convinced her father to ring up the Scoutmaster to sign her up.

"He was very pleased you're joining, muffin." Her father sounded proud. "You'll be a credit to them."

She was still thinking about it later when she was outside, swinging idly.

Credit or not, Maranda had a vague feeling that being a Llama Scout was somehow important. And her vague feelings were usually correct - as a toddler, she'd apparently known her mother was pregnant with Donovan, according to family legend, though she herself did not remember it. She often wondered if Rhea and Marcus were the same, but she didn't want to ask them. 

She'd reserve her judgements for her first scout meeting, however. 

Behind her Emilia was cooing to Donovan as he splashed in the paddling pool they'd set up for him in this heat. Maranda slipped down from the swing and headed inside - she was supposed to go and pick up her uniform with Dad today. 

"There we go, baby, nice and cool." Emilia smiled, relaxed as she watched him giggle and splash.

"Momma!" He waved his arms. "Swim swim!" 

She gave him a splash of water, and he shrieked with delight. Donovan, Emilia thought with satisfaction, was such an easy baby. All you had to do was entertain him and he caused no trouble at all. 

It seemed, after all this time, that things were finally going a little easier.

Evening fell over San Myshuno as Darrel, smiling wide, herded the three eldest children to the Romance Festival - one of his favourite events, it had to be said, in San Myshuno. Back when he and Emilia had met in the Realm, he had tentatively brought her here, and since then it had become a family tradition (although staying for the later party was not an option with the kids in tow.)

Emilia had stayed at home with Donovan, although she'd asked for them to bring something back for her, so Darrel headed over to the souvenir stand, wearing the t-shirt from the year before. The vendor (a new face this year) greeted him and soon had him deep in conversation about who the gift was for.

"My wife and I, we come here together whenever we can," Rhea heard, and smiled to herself. Dad could get so mushy when he was talking about Mom. 

"Here's your food, miss," the food vendor said, with a smile. "You enjoy yourself!"

The Romance Guru, as she was called in the official program, was waiting in an area surrounded by pink tea and light pink petals that had been scattered on the ground. People nervously looked at her as she waited, expectantly, but later on they would be lining up to talk to her - to ask her about their problems, or to ask what their future looked like. Fortune-telling! Magic found its way into the simplest of things, but there was something reassuring about that, Maranda thought.

As Maranda sat down, watching the candles around the lady flicker, she found herself instead looking at an old man with an even-older looking hat, his eyes darting around the festival anxiously. Darrel, coming to sit back down next to his daughter five minutes later, was surprised to find her chatting away happily to the older man, who was now sat next to her with a cup of herbal tea.

What had he told her about strangers? But immediately, the old man looked up at him, his eyes lighting up. 

"Ah, you must be this young lady's father! Forgive me, she said she wished to talk to me, and..."

The man was giving off a very strange magic, so Darrel obligingly sat down as well. 

"What brings you here?" he asked, gently.

"Well, truth be told, I came because I used to come here a long time ago, with my lady wife. She was the most beautiful woman, but I think she would be sad if she saw me still grieving." He sighed. "It makes me happy, however, to see so many young people enjoying themselves as we used to."

"I...I'm sorry for your loss." Darrel cleared his throat. "Sorry, Maranda--"

"Is a very perceptive young lady. Don't apologise, young man." 

Young man. How old did this guy think Darrel was? Still, there was something comforting about him, and Maranda certainly seemed at ease. 

"I met my wife back when it wasn't so popular to come here." Darrel found himself speaking. "She's watching our youngest at home, and I always try and bring our kids to the festival. It's a beautiful celebration."

"Oh, yes..." The man sighed, misty-eyed. "The petals, the young love, how can you dislike it? It's full of joy. A certain...magic, which is important for all holidays." 

With that, he stood, smiling at Maranda. "Thank you for your kindness, young lady." He bowed, somewhat awkwardly, and then walked off into the crowds. Darrel frowned at his youngest daughter.

"Maranda, you know you shouldn't talk to...strangers..."

"He wasn't a stranger," Maranda said, quietly. She recognised the man from so many Winterfest cards, and from the slight cold that had emanated from him. Father Winter, for better or worse, had been in San Myshuno.

Later, she was throwing petals as tradition dictated, and the incident was almost completely gone from her mind. Her brother laughed as he picked the pink flowers from his hair.

The lights around them suddenly blazed, and she squealed.

"Marrie!" Her brother grinned. "See, this is why you're a baby. Imagine getting startled by lights!" 

"I'm not a baby!" She pouted lightly, but neither of them really meant the back and forth.

Sat with her father, Rhea listened as he told her about the spellcaster traditions of the festival. 

"The tea that's here each year is brewed by a spellcaster. It's not even the same spellcaster every year, so each year it has a slightly different taste. It's considered a way of bringing the two communities together."

She couldn't help but smile, as a pink glow settled around those who had drunk it. This year's festival had been so fun...