It was my favorite ball. The one I played with against the wall when no one else was around, which was always. But it was getting further away, rolling toward a gaping void where I would never get it back. So I chased after it, running faster than I ever had. I needed it. I didn’t know what I was going to do without it. The air was as thick as molasses, and the distance only seemed to lengthen as I kept chasing and chasing, and then… and then…

           Mom. Why are you looking at me like that? Wait, where are you going? No, no no no don’t. NO, STOP! COME BACK!

           —August woke up in a cold sweat as usual. Morning birds chirped outside, and the all too happy sunlight brightened his room. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath, before groaning and sitting up in a single motion. After going to the bathroom, his face set into an indifferent frown as he washed the terrors away by splashing water on his face.

           He spent the next morning quietly cleaning the house and doing chores while waking himself up. Lyra was coming over soon for one of her visits, so he didn’t bother heating up the forge. From what he deduced from her letter’s tone, it would be a long day. 

           He enjoyed slow days like these, but they also made him remember just how painfully empty he felt without the kids running around in it. Looking out the window to see Hannah’s abandoned overgrown garden, admiring the paintings on every wall from Alice with increasing skill in each one, or taking a book from the library where Lauren spent practically every waking moment if she wasn’t out buying more. They had moved after his fourth daughter made it apparent that a bigger one was necessary, so now instead of living in the dingy old shop he grew up in, August was sleeping in the bed of a two-story house fit for six; large even by wealthy civilian standards. 

           He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door. He opened the door, letting in a wave of muffled sounds and smells of the working district, and gave Lyra the biggest hug he had ever hugged. “Welcome homeee!!!” Only it wasn’t the tall, lithe, muscled frame of Lyra, but rather, the squishable petite frame of his most recent daughter, Vayla.

           He froze for a second, rearranging the expectations in his head, but he didn’t let up on the hug. “Vayla, I didn’t realize you were in town, I’m so glad to see you!” The redhead let out a wheezing “You too, dad.” And he let out a sound of surprise before setting her down, as if he hadn’t known exactly what he was doing.

           She let out a sigh when she could finally breathe, then jumped back in to give him a hug twice as strong as his own, squeezing her deceptively small arms around his large frame hard enough to make his back crack if he were still human. In the irrational side of his mind, he found it unfair that the kids could use their full strength while he couldn’t without faking strength magic, which he wasn’t confident in doing. But he shouldn’t be thinking about his body while trying to initiate touch, so he put it out of his mind. 

            “I’m baaack!” She said, mocking his original tone. “You are. And you’ve certainly grown a lot.” He wheezed. She laughed and set him down with a smug look, having decided she won this altercation. His daughter carried a sugary scent that begged for love and attention, and his stabbing hunger was partially eased even though it’d barely been half a minute.

            “It seems the masters of Everen have been putting some muscle on those bones! What brings you to town?”

           At the mention of Everen, she pursed her lips, and August mentally prepared to burn someone. With words and legal action, of course, not the other type of burning. Probably. 

           “No, they’re not that bad! Mostly. It’s just- it’s nothing, just some advice I didn’t want to ask in my letter.” 

           Outwardly he nodded and said something on the lines of “you can ask me anything!” but inwardly all he could think was, Thank the gods! She still trusts me enough to ask for help even though I’m a shit parent.

           The younger of his sisters tended to be more attention seeking, which was interestingly a classic family dynamic pattern according to some work friends he had asked. It was a trade off of being less stubborn, and being somewhat higher maintenance, but he was worried he’d outweighed the benefits of the deal by being an incompetent bitch -er- bastard. 

            “Oh, right, Lyra’s also coming over soon though so if you want it to really be private you might want to wait for the afternoon.”

             Her face lights up, “Lyra! Can I join you in whatever you’re doing?”

             “As long as she thinks it’s fine, sure!”

             “Yesss! It’s been so long since I’ve gone out with anyone to do something nice. The culture over at Everen is all introverted and stuffy and I just don’t mesh with them at all! Well. Except for Anya...” The last words were barely audible as she faced away, kicking her foot.

              “Oh? Who is this Anya that has my daughter so bashful, hmmm?” 

              Vayla’s face flushed bright red as her scent gained a rosy romantic tinge, and she punched his arm repeatedly “Sh- shaddup! It’snot, not like, I mean its-but-its-!!?” 

               Her stuttering stopped when a familiar face picked her up from behind by the waist. She had black hair down to her chin, playful copper eyes, and was currently the right-hand woman of August’s only friend.

               “Ooh, there’s more muscles here than last time!” She grinned and pulled the redhead close, inspecting her as if she were a new doll. 

               “Welcome home to you too, Lyra! Your sister was just telling me about a very lovely lady named Anya.” He chimed in, and poor Vayla looked just about ready to die of mortification. August couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between his youngest and oldest. 

               “You have to tell us everything!” Lyra squealed and hugged her sister close. Her scent had always carried a filial edge, like the fruits of a vast fungal network. Valya was fruitlessly covering her red face and trying to squirm away. “Nooo, why did I miss youuu…!” 

               “Because you love me.”

               “Noooo, aaaaa! Dad heeellllpp!” She whined.

               “Well your sister might be able to add a perspective that I can’t, you know? Not too much experience with the romance department in my noggin’.” August tried to reason.

               “Stop making logic!” Vayla groans to the sky, still covering her eyes. 

               “Either way, we should go inside first. Don’t want the neighbors to stare, you know? And it’s quieter.” He adds.

               At that the two blink and look around, having seemingly forgotten their surroundings. Yep; they were his kids alright.      

                Valya’s face reddened again, and she finally wrenched out of Lyra’s grip to rush inside, covering her face with her hands. The taller sibling just smiled sheepishly and walked through at a more sedate pace. Once they were all inside, he brewed some tea for them all and sat them on the couch with trays so they could all get comfortable. Valya was cuddled into Lyra’s side, and I sat in my corner with some cushions.

                 The redhead seemed to have mostly calmed down by then, though she did send dirty glares at the both of them. She forced the story out in bursts of information followed by silent wriggling or random tangents, but it boiled down to a simple story. “So yeah we met at the temple and we talked and stuff, and one thing became another so we ended up cuddling, and then like, I snuck into her room so, now we’re sleeping in the same bed all the time, you know?” 

               “It sounds like you really care about her,” definitely more than friends at least. Then I added, “thank you for telling us!” Because that was important.

               “Yeah, you sound super cute together! What’s she like!?”

               The hesitation dropped like a rock, and my daughter looked up with a dreamy face. “She’s the best. She laughs at all my jokes, and it’s this ugly, loud laugh that’s just the best thing ever. And she is so damn smart, you can make a correction and she never makes the same mistake again. And she’s so intense, all the time! It’s how we got to know each other, she spars like a whirlwind and can make you feel the snap of her forms as if you’re doing it yourself. But even though she’s intense and competitive, she’s insanely diligent and way out of my league, like damn…!” The scent of roses had grown so intense that it was filling the whole room, and he could taste it at the back of his throat. It was strong, but it was only as filling as a bite of rice cake.

                 Then she blinks to reality, and her smile wanes a bit. “I let her wield me, and it was the greatest feeling in the world…”

                 Sensing the tension Lyra hugged her sister closer, and August scooched closer, trying to find the optimal distance between trapping and comforting. “That sounds like a good thing…?” Lyra said hesitantly.

                  “Yeah. It’s just, some elders found us and, uh…” the smile was gone now. “Dad, do you think it’s wrong for two blades to be in love with each other?” Her voice wavered, and her knees tucked up close to her chest.

                  August’s body temperature surged, and it was only through years of practice that he smothered the flame burning from within his soul. Until about seventy five years ago Living Blades were legally classified as property, and they were still suppressed systematically in many ways today, not to mention socially. The belief that they needed to be owned or following a “real” person to be complete was still ingrained in cultures worldwide, not to mention how useful such a belief is for countries wanting to conveniently mass produce magical soldiers to fight their battles for them. Our home nation was relatively “passive” outside of the princess, not leaning one way or another and leaving it up to individual regions to enforce their own laws beyond classifying them as people legally. Everen was an ancient organization that operated on a legal gray area with even more autonomy on top of that, with it not being bound to any one region directly. It was also run by multiple centurions, and as was usual for those long lived, they leaned toward the side of tradition. He’d been worried about something just like this happening because of these factors, and sadly, he was proven right yet again. 

              “Dad?” Lyra called out with warning in her voice. I blink back to awareness, finding Vayla looking terrified and Lyra looking ready to punch me. Good girls.

              “Sorry it’s just, fuck those bastards! You both sound lovely together. The temple may be the best in this country, but I’m willing to send you and your partner wherever you feel you need to go. Training in such an environment could be horrible for your mental health and even stunt your learning in the process. I’ll just hold out on thirteen and pump out commissions for a few months to make it up. Maybe a few old men will be castrated in the process…”

             Valya let out a sigh of relief, but looked somewhat concerned at the last sentence I muttered. She needn’t be worried; I’d never do anything to attract negative attention to me and my girls on purpose.

              “It’d make for a really sweet love story when I think about it. Two living weapons welding each other on the battlefield, tagging each other out to deal with enemies the other is more suited for! Then they’ll be crossing blades in the night, ripping up all the bedshee-“

              “Shutupshutupshutup!” Valya squeaked and shoved a pillow in her sister’s face, her face taking on the same color as her hair. The rosy scent gained a tinge of something he didn’t want to think about.

              August couldn’t resist, “Well, they do call it scissoring for a reason I suppose.” 

              Valya froze and gaped at him in pure horror. Lyra took the opportunity to throw the pillow away, and looked back and forth between her shocked younger sister and August, who maintained a straight face with an iron will forged by a decade of parenting. “What? What’d he say?” The younger sibling finally broke, pointing an accusing finger at him.

                “You- you didn’t! No way. No way you just said that!”

                My lips twitched. 

                “Oh my gods, you- scissor - oh my gods, daaaaaddddd nooooo!!” Her face was as red as her hair.

                “What? What’s happening? What’d he say?” Lyra asked, but she was smiling even if she didn’t get it. Valya’s reactions had always had a contagious effect.

                “I didn’t say anything wrong.”

                “No! Nuh-uh, you’re dad! You do not get to do that! That’s- oh god, I need to scrub my ears with a cheese grater, whyyyyy??”

                “I’ll bet her abs can act as one for you.”

                “Dad noooo!”

                Lyra burst into incredulous laughter, prompting laughter from August, and Valya tried her best to contort her body and smother them both to death with pillows while dying inside. And no, she was not smiling, dad!

                 By the time they -mainly Valya- calmed down, the tea was cold and long forgotten. She sighed and said, “I think I’ll just tell her. And then if she says yes, maybe we’ll take you up on your offer, dad! Or we could hide it, if she wants…”

                 “Sounds like a great plan! However, if she does want to keep it a secret, you have to think for yourself if that sounds too stressful for you. Okay? Especially since it sounds like you don’t even like it there even without the relationship thing.” August added sternly.

                 “Right. Thanks dad!” She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but ah well, it’ll be her first partner, so she’ll learn. 

                 “You’re also always welcome here if you’d like.” August turned to look at Lyra, who was staring out the window in thought. “Lyra, Asra said you had something planned for us today; could Valya join us?”

                 “Hm? Oh, yes, the plans! Yes…” She plops her chin on Valya’s head and starts rocking back and forth with an excited, calculating expression. The redhead contentedly leaned into the movements as her oldest sister mumbled incoherently for a minute, something about cracking, probably factoring her into her plans to…oh. She was going on about my “feminine soul” again. 

                August’s chest tightened, and he made an excuse to go to the bathroom while she was planning. This ended up being a horrible idea, as with his thoughts going in a certain direction, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to the mirror, where they were met with a grimace of disgust. 

                For just a moment, he ran mana through the thick bracelet he never took off, and the veil was lifted to reveal eerie black sclera, white irises, and a burning hellfire for pupils. Through some miracle he had eventually found some eclectic rune scheme to physically change his hair color along with everything else, but never the eyes. Most worrying of all, he couldn’t help but feel comforted at the fact that there were some parts he couldn’t safely change; especially the parts down below.

               The rest of him looked like a normal human man with a stocky body and rough hands, except for the long wild ponytail he tolerated and the lack of facial hair he couldn’t bring himself to fix. Permanent bags hung under his eyes and his skin was an unhealthy white spattered with blackheads of dirt from his smithing. This appearance was the result of a decade of hard work, and every second of it felt like he was torturing himself. It felt completely wrong, but that was good, because it was one of the only things he could do to distance himself from his demonic nature. It hurt him, but that hurt meant he was doing something right. 

               Of course, he couldn’t tell any of the daughters this, especially when it’d make them question the nature of their being like he did his. He’d already put them through rigorous testing under the guise of being a -ugh- mama bear. He couldn’t tell anyone actually, for fear of being hunted down even though he knew deep in his heart it was an inevitability.

               Snapping himself out of it, he pretended to flush the toilet and washed his hands, avoiding the judging gaze of the mirror while he prepared himself to shoot down their attempts to call him mother. Because somehow, every one of them had some instinctive bullshit soul-knowledge about that part of him, and Living Weapons considered things related to the soul to be seriously important for obvious reasons. It wasn’t helped by the fact that all of them were girls, and gender was something usually passed down from maker to blade 99% of the time; it made them feel like they had hard evidence. The whole ordeal made him feel like a sick and twisted imposter, but that was nothing new.