Heart of Dorkness

Monster Fourteen - Leaving

“I’ll be leaving this afternoon,” Mom said.

I blinked, then whipped my head around so fast my glasses almost flew off my face. “You’ll be what?” I asked.

We were both in the dining room, the smaller one a floor above the library. It was a cozier place to have something to eat than the bigger dining room below with the huge table. This one had one wall that was made entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows that faced south and gave us a nice view of the rocky blasted landscape.

None of that really mattered though. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Mom said, “that once we are done with our meal here, I will be heading outside and leaving the castle.”

“For how long? What for?” I asked. I stood up, and was very disappointed my chair only whispered over the carpet instead of screeching over the floor. “You can’t just go!”

One of Mom’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I can’t?”

“Of course not. Not while leaving me alone.”

“You would hardly be alone,” Mom said. She gestured vaguely to the side. I didn’t even bother following the gesture. I knew there were monsters in the room. There were always monsters in the room.

“That’s not what I mean,” I said.

“Did you mean that I am physically unable to leave? Despite the wishes of many a weaker god--which is by all accounts most of them--I am only confined to this land by my own desire not to interact with any of them. There is nothing that could hold me back.”

I pouted and placed both hands on my hips. “I’m too young.”

“Pardon?”

“I said I’m too young. You can’t leave the house because then I’d be unsupervised.”

Mom blinked. “Is this some jape?”

“It’s not a joke. A responsible mom wouldn’t leave her only daughter alone at home.”

Mom leaned back into her seat. “I see. And at what age would such a thing end?”

I moved my arms up so I could cross them under my chest. I didn’t meet Mom’s look. “When I’m old enough.”

“Interesting. I deem you old enough to be left alone for a day or so. You’re hardly liable to light the castle on fire while I’m no longer here, and there are several thousand monsters to keep you safe. I know you’ve used some of your... friends to sneak food out of the kitchens.”

I felt my cheeks warming. She knew about my snack friends? “That’s... a discussion for later,” I said. “You still haven’t answered my other questions!”

“You mean with regards to where I am going and for how long? I don’t see how either should matter to you.”

I glared. “Mom.”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me.”

“Mom,” I repeated.

“Oh, very well. I am visiting Semper this evening for tea. My things are already packed. I should be back by the morning. Or the afternoon, if things end up taking more time than I expect.”

“Semper... the goddess?” I asked. The name had come up here and there.

Mom nodded easily. “Yes. She’s something of an old acquaintance. We have tea on occasion and discuss our new findings in the world of literature and art. Our tastes aren’t entirely aligned, but I find the contrast interesting.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you had, uh... friends.”

Mom’s expression went a little flat. “And now you’ve learned otherwise.”

“Are you really going to leave me alone for an entire day?” I ask.

“Hardly an entire day. I expect that little will change in your schedule. You're not likely to notice my absence for a night. Just sit back and read or study as you usually do.”

I adjusted my glasses and held back another pout. Mom wasn’t wrong, but still. “Okay then. At least let me say goodbye properly.”

“Hmm? I suppose I could begin to leave now,” Mom said. She set her utensils next to her plate. “I wouldn’t want to allow a crosswind to lead to my being late.”

“How are you getting to Semper anyway?” I asked.

“I’ll fly over. It’s simplest,” Mom said. “She frequently changes locations. So it is uncommon that we meet in the same place twice, at least not within the span of a decade.”

“That’s neat,” I said.

Mom stood up and brushed down the front of her dress. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but she was wearing a much more elaborate dress than usual, with black lace over an even darker, silky fabric.

“That’s a pretty dress,” I said.

“Hmm? Well yes, I do try to dress appropriately for these small events. It wouldn’t do to appear uncouth. Half of one’s power comes from others' perception of one.”

“What’s the other half?” I asked.

Mom made that noise in the back of her throat, her little laugh. “The other half is the ability to crush anyone that stands between you and what you want with extreme prejudice.”

I thought about it for a moment as Mom flowed out of the room, then I jogged after her. “No offence, Mom, but I’m thinking that the second half is a bit more important than the first.”

She nodded, then reached down and ruffled my hair. “It is, yes, but having that kind of power and not knowing how to restrain it is useless. It is often best that the mere threat of power be capable of accomplishing things for you, before you ever need to deploy it yourself.”

“Oh,” I said. That sounded clever. But I’d need a while to really figure it out.

We made our way downstairs. One day I’d convince Mom to install an elevator in the castle. Not only would it make my legs work less, it would also be neat to have one.

We reached the bottom, which only meant I’d need to climb all the way back up to the top later. It was hard not to notice the bag being carried by a monster by the front door. “You're bringing all that?” I asked. It was a pretty large bag.

“A few things. Some books to trade, a change of clothes, some toiletries. Nothing special,” Mom dismissed. She opened the door and I followed her out, then blinked at the dragon resting by the front, her tail casually wrapped around a statue.

“Oh hey, it’s Livonas. Hi!”

The dragon raised her head, a thing the size of a small house, then humphed in my general direction. I laughed as my skirt and hair flapped in the warm air.

“Well then, this is goodbye for the moment,” Mom said as she turned my way.

I felt my giggle die off. “Oh, right,” I said. There was her ride behind her, and there were plenty of wyverns around too. An aerial escort, I guessed. It made sense. “So... I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course. I do live here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said. Then I raised my arms.

“Are you trying to communicate something?” Mom asked.

I opened my eyes, then huffed at her. “Mom, I want a hug.”

“You don’t need hugs, you’re a mature young woman.”

“If being mature means no more hugs, then I don’t want it,” I said. “Come on, you’re leaving. You can’t leave without giving me a hug first.”

“Oh, and could you stop me?” she asked.

I pouted, again. Why did Mom always need to make things difficult? “What happens if something happens to you? What if you get held back for, like, two days? Or a week! Then that would be a week without seeing you, and no hugs that entire time. So we need hugs now, and they need to be good to make up for any missing future-hugs.”

“You are... so childish,” Mom said. But I could tell she was smiling inside.

I raised my arms higher.

Mom approached, then paused. “I... admit that I’m not entirely sure how to...”

Was... was this Mom’s first time hugging back properly? I did usually initiate them, I guessed.

“Just do your best,” I said.

Mom raised her own arms a bit, leaned forwards, and wrapped her arms around me.

It was the most robotic, unwarm hug I’d ever gotten, so I squeezed her right back, because even if it was an objectively terrible hug, it was still the best hug because Mom was trying.

“I love you lots,” I said. “So be careful.”

“Yes,” Mom agreed. “I expect the castle to be in one piece come morning, and I have set some of my monsters to spy upon you and report back to me. So do try to limit any tomfoolery.”

“Mom!”

“Have a good day, Valeria. I’ll see you tomorrow.”