Emily's Saga

by Travis Bughi

  There was also the barn, constructed only a few years ago after the old one had been destroyed by a behemoth. The memory brought a moment of clarity to Emily as she realized just how much that one incident had changed her life. Had that behemoth gone anywhere else, done anything else, she would not be where she was today.

  She whispered the old viking saying, “Fate is inexorable.”

  Beside her, Nicholas heard her words and then huffed, though whether in agreement or disgust she could not say. She did not care. Mother was waiting, and she would never be happier than in this moment.

  In the darkness, their approach was unseen, but not unheard. Their steps crunched the wavy, long grass of the Plains, and the wind carried the sound across the farm. Mariam and Paul stepped out warily, unsure why so many would be approaching their home at such a late hour—the only person they’d been expecting home was their oldest son, and then again not for another week. They might not have stepped out at all if they hadn’t heard the clink of Abe’s gunslinger boots amongst the noise of all the others. Mariam had her bow in hand, just in case, but when the group entered the lantern light that washed out from within the home, she forgot it entirely.

  A single gasp was all she could get out before the tears overcame her.

  She dropped her bow and sprinted off the porch. Nicholas’ arms barely came up before she’d barreled into him and wrapped him tightly. With her other arm, she reached out and grabbed Emily’s shoulder to pull her close, too. Emily obliged, fighting tears of her own while Mariam bawled in huge, heaving sighs.

  “My boy!” she choked out. “Nicholas, my boy.”

  Paul came forward slowly, his own eyes reddening, and joined the hug, encasing them as he took a huge breath. Rough farmer’s hands cupped the back of Emily’s neck, and renewal and warmth washed into her soul.

  Nicholas seemed frozen in time, staring off into the distance, stone faced, his arms carefully holding his mother who wept tears and muffled cries into his neck and shoulder. Despite everything he’d said to Emily, she could see the glisten of tears in his eyes, and she dared to hope that she had been wrong about him this entire time.

  “Son,” Paul said, a lone tear dripping down his cheek. “You’re home.”

  “Oh, my boy, you’re alive,” Mariam sobbed. “You’re alive. You’re alive! Abraham! Come here.”

  Abe appeared, wiping tears from his own eyes. Mariam grabbed him by his overcoat and pulled him into the family hug. His hat tumbled off as his head was pushed into the huddle.

  “Thank you, oh thank you!” Mariam wept. “We’re here. We’re all here!”

  Beyond the group, Emily saw the others trying desperately to disappear. Adelpha had her arms crossed while her eyes searched the sky. Fritjof had his hands folded in front of him with awkward formality, and Emily was momentarily distracted, chuckling at how odd of a viking he was. Takeo, though, nearly brought Emily’s heart to a stop.

  He was trying unsuccessfully not to stare. She could see the reluctance to watch in his dark eyes, but he couldn’t look away. For long moments, he stared with parted lips as Mariam and Paul held their children close and cried out in happiness. His long hair cascaded down his face to blow aimlessly in the wind, but he didn’t even bother to pull away the loose strands that caught in front of his face or blew into his mouth. All the attention he could give was focused solely on them, and in his eyes, Emily saw a mixture of awe and envy.

  Takeo had no parents, and the only family he’d ever had had never held him like Emily was being held now. She could see it there, that realization. He’d never known he’d wanted this until he saw it. So Emily did the only thing that seemed right.

  She reached out and grabbed Takeo by his clothes and pulled him in. The samurai resisted at first, but reluctantly gave over. He reached the huddle and spread his arms over Emily, his hands lapping over Paul’s and Abe’s. Mariam felt the touch, but did not look out. She continued to hold Emily and Nicholas to her, tears streaming down on them both. Abe, though, saw what Emily had done, and reached out and grabbed Adelpha and Fritjof. They joined the circle, and more arms wrapped around, and Emily felt a smile spread across her face, so warm and wide that it reached all the way to her heart.

  “We’re a family again,” she said.

  “Yes, we are.” Paul smiled.

  And then Emily felt terrible because she knew it would not last.

  Chapter 22

  None of them had any interest in sleeping that night.

  All eight of them sat on the floor because there weren’t enough chairs and everyone was too modest to use them. Mariam brought out water; Paul unpacked some salted behemoth meat and broke out the freshest bread they had. Once again, stories were swapped, and Emily repeated hers for what felt like the tenth time in the past few months. Takeo assisted her, and Nicholas shouldered a fair portion of the family’s attention as he was relentlessly drilled for information on all he’d done and seen.

  To Emily’s relief, their mother never once asked Nicholas why he’d left. It seemed that all was truly forgiven now that he’d returned, which was surprising because Emily had received no such kindness when she’d returned from Themiscyra.

  She might have taken offense at that if she weren’t so happy.

  Also to her relief, both Mariam and Paul welcomed Takeo and Fritjof with open arms, with little judgment and no resentment as far as Emily could tell. Mariam asked them politely about when they’d met and how long they’d been together, while Paul expressed how thankful they both were that their children had found such companions. Adelpha took it all in stride.

  Paul was especially euphoric, and Emily needed no insight to understand why: he’d always wanted a family, and here he was, surrounded by all his children, each with partners they’d chosen to spend their lives with. It was everything he’d ever wanted.

  They didn’t retire until the morning sun was pouring through the windows. Even then, they went slowly, breaking off reluctantly, half at first. The Stout home had only three rooms: a family room with a kitchen, a bedroom for the parents, and the other for the children. There were only three beds in the children’s room, but neither Mariam nor Paul made a comment about sleeping arrangements. Emily was thankful once again that everyone was acting like an adult as she climbed into bed with a hesitant Takeo.

  “Relax,” she whispered, pulling his arms around her. “We’re not in Juatwa anymore. You don’t have to be so formal.”

  “It’s not that,” he whispered back. “Well, alright, it’s partly that. Your parents are just so nice that I don’t want to offend them. We’re under their roof, and you’re their only daughter.”

  “There’s something magical about tonight. Don’t ruin it. Trust me, if Adelpha can do it, we can do it.”

  “I heard that,” Adelpha muttered from Abe’s bed.

  And then came sleep, long-awaited from their day’s travel and lengthy night of chatter. Emily hardly stirred in her old bed, which was far too small to hold two people comfortably. Both she and Takeo had to sleep on their sides, pressed close to one another with legs intertwined. They weren’t sheltering from the frigid cold of The North anymore, yet they slept close. It was the only comfortable position Emily could remember anymore. It had been so long since she’d slept alone that she wondered if she still could.

  A dream of the colossus might have come at some point, but Emily’s sleep was so deep that she didn’t remember one when her eyes cracked open sometime in the early afternoon. Fritjof—the first up, apparently, as he was missing from Nicholas’ bed—had left the house to give the others some more quiet, but he’d tried and failed to prevent the back door from creaking open and shut. Then Emily heard voices, and she recognized her father’s coming from the porch.

  Takeo breathed deeply when she left, but did not stir. Emily crept like a ninja out of the room and out of the back of the house, making sound only as the infamous back door creaked at the slightest movement. Outside, she found Fritjof sitting next to Paul
, both men staring out toward the sun that was just beginning its descent into the great beyond.

  “Good morning, Daughter,” Paul said formally.

  “It’s not morning, Father.” Emily smiled and sat next to him.

  “Of course it is. Not the day’s morning, sure, but my morning. The long night awaiting yours and Nicholas’ return is over. I can see the light again.”

  He reached out and gave Emily’s knee a squeeze, and she felt her throat tighten. Silence returned as the sun continued to drift low, pouring light and heat upon them. It was never too warm, though. The constant wind on the Great Plains plucked the heat from their skin before it became too harsh to bear. Before them lay fields of dirt plowed into lines, and beyond that a sea of yellow grass that never stopped moving.

  “So when are you leaving us?” Paul asked suddenly.

  His tone was plain, but Emily’s neck still stiffened. She felt a twinge of guilt despite no accusation being leveled.

  “How did you know I was leaving?” Emily asked.

  “Because you’re my daughter. I asked Fritjof the same thing, but he said it wasn’t for him to say. He’s a rather polite young man, I have to admit. To think I’ve been wrong about vikings all this time.”

  “You haven’t been wrong,” Fritjof said. “Everyone said I was strange back home.”

  “Well, it’s a good strange,” Paul replied. “My wife was strange, too, once. She was an amazon who wanted a husband and a home. Her own people shunned her for that, but look what it gave her? Three children, beautifully grown and as strong as her, setting out to make the world their own and seizing their destiny just like she did. You see, Fritjof? One can do a lot with strange. Now tell me, Emily, just how much time do I have with my daughter?”

  “One week,” Emily said. “A few days less, actually. I need to return to Lucifan.”

  “And after that, I will await the next morning.”

  Emily looked down at her feet and shuffled them. Her guilt still lingered, only now it felt deserved. Her parents had a way of making her feel selfish for following her dreams.

  “I’m not leaving for long,” Emily replied, her response coming out less confident than she would have liked. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Paul laughed and patted his legs. He looked to Fritjof as if expecting the young viking would share in his joke, but Fritjof just looked confused and lost. So Paul laughed again and favored his daughter with a smile.

  “Emily,” he said, “don’t ever feel you are responsible for my happiness. It’s true, I would be happier if both you and Nicholas were with us more often, but I don’t want you to feel you owe me that. The life we gave you is, and always will be, yours to live. You are not required to come home, or leave home, or even consider this place your home. I love you, and I always will. And also, I am proud of you. You are the woman your mother would have been had she never met me.”

  A tear blurred Emily’s vision, and she blinked in shock as she had not realized it had been forming. She turned her face and wiped it away, feeling embarrassed. Then she chuckled, unsure of why she was embarrassed at all.

  “Thank you, Father,” Emily said. “I love you, too.”

  “And what about you, young man?” Paul said immediately, turning on Fritjof.

  Fritjof jumped at the shift in attention. He stuttered and looked terrified for a moment, and then Paul chuckled and slapped him on the back.

  “Everyone is much too tense around here,” Emily’s father said. “I blame your mother. Where is she, anyhow? She should be up by now.”

  Paul left and roused his wife, and soon the entire family was awake just in time to enjoy some warm afternoon sun before night came once more. They sat and spoke again, lost in the seemingly endless amount of memories and experiences that could be conjured up amongst so few. Mariam and Paul went this time, answering questions about their past as Fritjof, Adelpha, and Takeo took on the dutiful role of showing interest in their hosts.

  One thought to ask how the two of them had met, and it dawned on Emily that she’d never heard this story. Mariam had always sought to hide her amazon past from her children, and so that question had never been asked before. Emily shuffled forward now, eager to hear.

  “It was my first time in Lucifan,” Mariam began. “My sisters and I had already spent the last several months teasing each other on who would find the cutest or strongest traveler in Lucifan. I’d never been with a man before, rarely even spoke to one actually, so I was very nervous. There are small villages in the jungles surrounding Themiscyra, and we amazons occasionally trade with them, especially to give away our sons, but I was too young for that. It’s considered a rite of passage to travel to Lucifan first, and then only afterwards do we find mates in the villages back home.

  “Interesting how it all sounds, right? To view my trip to Lucifan as nothing more than a chance to get pregnant? Well, don’t worry, I also thought it strange. I had difficulty coming to terms with idea of spending one long night with another person—to create a child, only to leave them without ever knowing whether we’d meet again. I thought to myself that if I found someone, someone truly worthy of my time, I’d learn their name and promise to meet again. That was, of course, assuming I could muster the strength to speak to anyone at all.”

  Mariam shied at her next words and looked to Paul. He cleared his throat and took over.

  “Your mother’s fears were never realized,” he said. “Amazons in Lucifan aren’t exactly a common sight, but anyone who’s been there and heard the stories knows what to expect. Many men are very forward with their advances, more often than not in an unpleasant fashion, especially pirates. They make comments so lurid an ogre would blush.”

  “Wait,” Nicholas spoke up, chuckling under his breath. “Did you really approach Mother?”

  “Absolutely not!” Paul laughed. “I did something much more idiotic.”

  “I was walking in the market place,” Mariam jumped in, her voice returned to her. “I was hungry, walking by myself, and really tired of being gawked at like a piece of meat. I had gone with my sisters originally to a tavern known to entertain vikings. I guess I wasn’t quite ready for that, because I punched the first overgrown louse that tried to drag me into his lap. Just my luck, he took that as me flirting and ordered drinks for me and all my sisters. As generous as that was, I lied and said I needed a breath of air. Fortunately, he didn’t take that as an invitation, and I slipped away, thinking to myself that there was nothing about that I’d enjoyed.

  “Chara didn’t raise me to be treated like that. She was awful particular about that, the idea that I respect myself. She also told me not to speak with knights, but would never tell me why, no matter how many times I asked. All I knew was that my father was one, and that was reason enough to avoid any knight older than me. Fearless in combat though I was, the idea of facing my estranged father terrified me. But anyways, on to the market! I’m traveling along, looking for something filling and cheap when I spot a young man standing over loaves of baked bread, staring an ogre in the eye.”

  “That was my first trip to Lucifan alone,” Paul said. “My parents were getting rather old for the trip. I’ll never know why they waited so long to have just one child, but they did. I took what food we wouldn’t need and went to Lucifan to sell it. It was nothing but bread that wouldn’t keep, so I didn’t expect to make much, but that didn’t mean I expected to make nothing. So when this ugly ogre comes up and offers me an amount that was a step above dirt, I wasn’t about to back down just because it gave me a mean eye. I’d worked hard for every loaf, and my parents were depending on me. I told it—politely, of course—to leave. The ogre took that as a challenge and leered over me.

  “I held fast, though. It’s not that the bread was worth dying for—no bread is—but I’d had this standoff before. Everyone and anything with an ounce of muscle in Lucifan thinks a little grunt and twitch is all that’s needed to send a Plains farmer running. This was my first time dealing with it
alone, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little intimidated by this purple brute. And then lo and behold, an angel appears! Not a real angel, but close enough. A young amazon, walking with the confidence I’d expect from a vampire, struts into our little stare down and asks me for some bread.”

  “I wasn’t really interested in his bread,” Mariam said, “but I wasn’t really interested in him either. Cute as he was, I was looking for food and conflict, and I happened to find both in that moment. The ogre’s attention turned on me, but as your father and I started a conversation, it lost interest and left with a rude snort. It felt great, and I would have left soon after if your father hadn’t kept me.”

  “I wasn’t about to let her leave without a fight.” Paul smirked. “I so rarely left my family’s farm that seeing this woman in a leather skirt and vest made me forget all about the bread. I think that ogre could have come back and taken everything, and I never would have noticed. I enticed her with questions about where she was from, about how she liked the city and how long she was staying.”

  “I didn’t have anything else to do,” Mariam said and shrugged, “so I stayed and chatted. Eventually, even to my ignorant mind, it dawned on me this young man was flirting. He was so nice about it, too. I kept waiting for him to invite me back to a tavern or something, like I assumed most men would, but he never did. He kept asking about myself, and then I asked him about himself, and then suddenly hours had gone by, the day was ending, and I realized I didn’t want this conversation to stop. I asked him if we could meet again, and we did. I spoke to him all that week, visiting places all over Lucifan, and when I left, I made a promise to see him again the next year.

  “That was a long year, and it took me that entire time to realize I’d be happier with him than I would ever be with my sisters. It was a hard decision, and I put a lot of thought into it, but I was determined to offer my life to him if he’d have it. Thinking back, it sounds so foolish—so young and naïve. We hardly knew each other! Why, if any of you did that, I’d give you a hard smack and hope you came to your senses.