Short Story; Mother

Credits; Petra, Zink,

"Hurry up Petra, you'll be late for class."
"I suppose I do have time to do this later. Just give me a second Mom."

Petra was not normal. Not by prophesy, or skill, or even curse; what made her special was her mother. That could be said for any of the student's at Krove's 'Acacemy for Arcane Excellence'; it was the school of choice for the most promising mages, and for the wealthy children of Nieldic nobles. The fact that normal was relative was hardly lost on her. Even when normal was being among the most powerful magic users in the universe, she still wasn't normal.

"Don't forget your...Oh good, you remembered it this time. Are you conjuring today or should I bring you lunch?"
"Could you send someone with lunch this time?"

Her mother sighed, Petra hadn't wanted to say it. But with a mother as unspeakably powerful as hers; sometimes she just wanted a quiet meal without the dramatic flare of an arriving mage. Knowing her mother, even a servant would result in hours of explanations. She hoped it might be one of the more humble servants, at least they wouldn't try to draw attention to themselves.

"I'll send Joan. She's young enough to fit in without drawing to much attention."
"Thanks Mom."


School was a mixed bag. An-Jin, the weapons master, was more fun to make fun of than to listen too. Jaguans might be expert fighters, but Petra could only take a certain amount of self-flattery in a day. Nisea, his Nieldic assistant, always managed to keep the fights themselves rather entertaining. He was a relative, on Mom's grandfather's side, but she was pretty sure he didn't know it.

Oukrahn taught natural magics, sprites and springs and those sorts of things as he'd put in his half rhyming speech. The elder Ga-Vok had been a member of the council of Oracles they said. They were wrong, but the truth of his adventuring days was far more interesting. Mom always said she'd catch up to him soon enough, but she wasn't really trying.

The worst was Kneed. He taught necromancy. Not the fun parts like Mom had shown her; he taught it like a religion. Blood sacrifice this and soul-bound that, it was all the very worst sort of magic. Occasionally he'd mention something about interesting, like the lecture on golems a few months ago or the homework assignment about familiars back in her second year, but most of the time he was just atrocious.

Ortez was the school chaplain. He taught the light, and while he was a bit off theologically you couldn't ask for a better teacher. He'd out heal Dante, the school nurse, any day. After last semester they hadn't spoken much, Petra and Ortez. Her mother had made it very clear how she felt about ressurections and he'd been to afraid to so much as mention her, or by association Petra. It had really degraded the quality of his teaching.

She had other teachers, but her mother summed it up pretty well. 'I'll meet them in the street one day, and they'll hope they don't know me. Then they'll hope that the person going through their wallets does."
It was her mother's way of saying they weren't important. Petra would have just said as much.

Lunch, sadly, was a Meatloaf sandwich. Joan had managed to move in quietly and given it to her before anybody realised she was there. By the time anyone figured out who she was she'd already managed to slip out.
Unfortunately, Aelsfeld was a linguistics major.

"Was that French? It sounded like a really old dialect."
"It is, that's the only language she speaks though."
"What happened to her hair?"
"Cropped, and yes those were burn scars. Can I just eat?"
"Where does your mother find all these people?"
"Graveyards. You find all kinds of great people there."
"Ha ha ha, very funny. Seriously, is there like a website for wierd people who speak ancient languages and are looking for jobs?"
"It's the internet Aelsie; you can find anything if you look hard enough."

Afternoon was considered 'Self-guided Study period'. It meant you could do whatever you wanted as long as it wasn't explicitly illegal, and even that guideline was often broken. Petra had two activities for this time of day, and since Aelsie and the gang were all on the TacSim team she headed into town.

"How is my favorite little girl?"
"Not bad; how're you doing Dad?"
"These joints aren't what they used to be. I'll be seeing your mother before you know it."
"I could make you some more ointment if you need it."
"All right, but I insist on paying you for ingredients this time. Now how's that project of yours?"
"Bloodstone and Shade shards, they'd be perfect if I could just find an element between them as a middle ground."
"No luck then?"
Petra shook her head.
"Well, then just work on something simple while you think. One of the students placed an order for some gloves, maybe you know what sort of enchantments would help young master Kendrick."
"Anti-chafing and haste so he has more time for his homework."
"Tsk Tsk, keep it to combat."
"His aim needs work, so sure-fire would help; with a few modifications. Maybe steadiness, his blade wavers like a politician's word. Haste really is a must. And I think we should pad it; he has very delicate hands. He'll be a signature emperor if I've ever seen one."
"Why don't you work on modifying the sure-fire charm then, while I get to work on padding it."

Petra got home late. Her mother took it with her usual grace.
"How's your father? It's getting about time for me to see him."
"A few more years Mom, there's so much I can still learn from him."
"Rules are rules sweetheart. The book says 223, and his birthday's in a month. I'm sorry, I've bent them as long as I can. It's just how it is."
"Why is it that way?"
"Petra, I don't write the rules. I just enforce them. You will too one day, albeit not as I do. He's seen the book, he knows it's coming. Why do you think he's been spending so much time with you lately?"
"Because he loves us, if it were you he wouldn't let it happen."

Before Petra could run off in a huff her mother teleported in front of her.

"Even I can't stop people from dying when its their time. Your father knows that, YOU know that. He's had a good, long life; and I'll do everything I can to make him comfortable. You know I don't want him to die, don't make this any harder than it has to be."
"If you don't want it, then don't do it. You're the most powerful being in the universe mom, just don't do it."

She started crying as she left the room. Her mother just stayed in the kitchen staring after her.
"Not so easy when it's your loved ones is it?"
"Alligheri. Care for tea?"
"No, I'm just on my way home. We had some nasty wounds up at the school today. Another few minutes and the little twit would have been your problem."
"Crap! I never miss a near-Death experience."
"You'd have scared him so badly it would have been a Death experience. How's your daughter taking the news?"
"Badly. She thinks I'm all-powerful, I never should have told her."
"Sounds like she's her mother's daughter to me. When I met you, YOU thought you were all-powerful."
"And you didn't?"
"Not once, the Lord made my job description quite clear."
"Apparently I didn't. She wants me to save him."
"Make the effort."
"Against His will? I haven't the good history to pull off a stunt like that."
"It won't work, we both know that. But Petra doesn't, so if you just try than you can use it to show her you aren't all-powerful."
"Wise as ever Mr. Alligheri. You sure you don't want some tea?"
"No thanks, I need to get back to the book. Say hello to Julius and the gang for me."
"I will. Good luck with the book."

Petra slept, another day of school ahead of her. Though her dreams were fraught with her imperiled father; the house was still as a grave.