Chapter 16 - Love

Riva stayed by my side through the busy of the night, while real-mom bug wrangled Ewan and Beryl during a bout of boldness spurred on by the Sludgeburrow boys. She did her best to tell stories as confidently as Sana with the same aura but wrestled with herself over the specific details. I appreciated her presence as Silt ferried over the first offerings of water to both clean and seal my slimy bits.

I was an inhuman nightmare, a sheet-white creature who felt adorably human sometimes and other times felt like some screaming space marine should be emptying his assault rifle into me. Silt and Riva fostered the human side. Riva squirmed and tenderly adjusted herself as Silt made her into a proxy for the kinds of hugs he would lavish me with once my new skin was ready for it.

In my mind's eye, Riva had a new feeling. A little girl who rarely spoke but, when she did, it was something she'd given the full scope of her consideration. Still, she flailed in uncertainty with cuffs awkwardly dangling past her frail hands and a curtain of hair that buried her features. My new nose wasn't ready for smells but, divorced of that tag-along first-impression, Riva's was strong like a floral form of watermelon. Not overbearing though. You had to search to find it but when you got there, it wrapped you up like a comforting blanket. I wished she could touch me, that anyone could touch me, but that would've been like dragging a nail across a sunburn. Just wait.

After chasing down a screaming, flailing Ewan who got too close, father settled in nearby.

"Your true color is coming back. It won't be long. You faced your first instar bravely. I'm proud of you, Grete."

"Thank you, father."

He reflected on his own first instar. Father's family wasn't like this one, as he remarked, "It was a battle for survival. We had so little. And none but I gave to the King."

Citrine joined the impromptu story session with a long, astonished gasp and asked, "Did their antenna pop off?!"

Easing a patient breath, father noted, "Worse things. Unspeakable things. My kin...no. Those simply born with me. They would poke and crush during an instar, forcing breath from one who had none left. Not all made it, especially those who thought themselves strong. Cruelty can come even from those closest to you. This is a sad fact but one you all will need to remember as you grow. Be kin to each other."

Stretching parts of me I could stretch without agony, I looked to Flax's area far from father's words of kindness. Granted, tricking a newborn into giving up a gift and teasing them scarcely compared to brutalizing the helpless and worse things that father implied without saying. I thought of Pembrick and his mention of eating me. This was the animal kingdom, so it was easy to guess.

The thought of Pembrick also stirred those dozens of questions like a soup that threatened to overflow the cup. "Father...not long ago, mother....mentioned someone in our family I've never met."

Bending down towards me, father resolutely responded, "My story and your question follow grip in grip. The reminder to show kinship is one we must never forget. Because, if we forsake it, then we are no longer kin. Love comes before all else. But love can be broken beyond the healing of a new shell. Not that you need to worry about any of that, my little one. Let such fear leave your mind and let love remain, as you always have."

If only he knew I was full of so many other things than love. The love I felt in me was an imitation of theirs, a desperate reflection to disguise uncertainty that I'd never known sincere love in my human life. The closest I came was with Wiatt, but he still left me without explanation or a way to even text or leave voice messages.

But then, what about Flax? She was a jerk who just wanted my things. But so did others, depending on who I could believe. Who did I believe and trust? Father for sure.

Then real-mom b....then real-mom. She had taken care of me in ways that I never knew a parent could take care of a child, lavishing me with patient understanding and encouragement. Mom just had one kid and yet found that to be a bothersome ordeal. Well, here's ten...nine kids, instead of a flurry of investors, clients, and things.

After that, I wasn't sure. Riva surely would restrain or unleash her words if it were something of great importance. Beyond that, I had no certainty or I was certain not to bother. My solidifying guts told me that Pembrick was the one to doubt and that Silt had a metaphorical backbone beneath his squishy-gum mood.

Did I dare tell on Flax though? She already had me in a spot. I'd given my word that she could have my gift without condition. And if anyone asked if I went outside then it led down a slippery path of mud just driving me deeper and deeper into questions. Father told me not to fear but so many little fears and notions mounted inside me. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad but to break their illusion of me as a perfect little one was too much. What would and wouldn't be considered a mistake? I couldn't put it to the test.

Instead, I just listened attentively, like a good little bug, to father's stories to keep me distracted as I dried. His account of a thunderstorm not only whiled away the minutes but also made me think about them differently.

Bugs didn't have a house to hide in where everything was dry. He sheltered under a broad, dripping leaf as clinging skies above spilled out their bounty. For him, it was like the generous leg of the King kicked over a river in the sky. And, not only that, he was locked in a struggle with lights beyond milk as bold flashes roared.

Father didn't speculate over the why of the battle or who the adversaries were but added a disclaimer not to venture out in such a struggle since you could wind up with so much water that not even your longest breath could sustain you. And it was bad to go outside unless you knew what you were doing, like father, Sana, and Silt. Although he acknowledged that the always-energetic Anise and Lapis might one milk light be up for the task.

However, father let slip that the storm was when he first met real-mom. She sheltered herself nearby and offered to groom him fruitlessly in the deluge. Her den of relatives also took a swift kinship to father, better than any of his family. Much was glossed over in the courtship except to say, "It was a destiny ordained by the voice of the King. By the light of his battles, we found each other."

I could imagine them, like in a movie, one a young man hiding his tears in the rain while she too huddled for warmth. A stolen kiss and a bright smirk. Their hair slicked against their necks and arms finding each other. A love story hidden on such a small scale, tender touches of antenna, and thoughts that no human could divine. Citrine played the role of a spunky, wannabe-mature kid who sat on her stomach and kicked her feet like this was both the grossest thing ever and yet somehow cool because the sky was blasting and bashing and exploding and her mind reeled to even grasp that.

Riva held herself and tried unsuccessfully to fix her hair several times before letting it hide her shy smile at imagining romantic things. Sana had a reputation to uphold, and no hair to hide her fantasies, but restrained, happy little thoughts leaked through as her antenna furiously twitched in the air. Silt was even worse. It was like he had his hands in front of him with googly eyes and his heart all aflutter. Our sour sisters, Flax and Tula, were too cool to be bothered.

It would take the rest of the day, but I heard about the best gift father ever gave mother (a red sweet that reminded her of home) and the best gift mother ever gave father (a dance and an embrace in the rain to remind them of how they met). Through it all, I learned a nuance I hadn't fully grasped before. The Shashelm didn't fear the light. The burning light was scary because it dried you so quickly but the intimate glow of Mudwell and the alluring, luminous dance of outside was beautiful. You just had to be careful because not all things were as friendly as a kindred heart in the rain.

When I was finally done with my molt and Silt and Sana could hold me without it being painful, I noticed a weird ridge by my side. The section was darker but had a lighter, forked streak that followed all along the edge and almost up to my head. While father first feared it might give me away when I was hiding, I assured him it was easy to cover when I lay down.

Agreeing, he made me show it to mother...my real mother as she whispered to him and he concurred. After a moment, he explained, "It's joyously appropriate that you would show a mark like that. This family's love, as dreamed and promised, was born under a battle of water and light with shapes of that sort. You are that love's culmination and clearest expression. Truly, it is the Blessing of the King."

Flax didn't like that but she could go eat all the mud in the room and then shove it up whatever we used to poop. Keep your scrap of Bombomori stuff. The tapestry of my family was the gift no one could take away.