Hero of Nira

Father and Son

   The sun was beginning to set when Shri emerged from the trees above his village, Coerul. It was small, with only a hundred inhabitants at most, but never did he feel like abandoning it for anyplace larger. He rather enjoyed the peace and comfort it provided, and if he ever did need excitement he would hunt in the vast forest surrounding the village.

   Shri marched proudly down the path, hauling the head of the forest lion, as well as a pocketful of the beast’s claws.

   As he reached the first crop fields, he heard footsteps fast approaching. From around a corner came two of his friends, obviously awed by the head Shri carried.

   “You did it!” said Kray loudly, a rather short energetic lad. He was never allowed to help his father, who was a butcher—there was too much chance of Kray slipping and cutting something. “You caught it!”

   Shri’s other friend, Jeir, was always the sensible one. He lived with his grandfather, who had a reputation as a real eccentric, and was always trying to figure out how birds fly, or why the sun sets at night. If anything, this made Jeir more rational, as though determined to live it down. “Of course he caught it,” he said haughtily. “The odds were definitely in his favor.” Jeir nodded to Shri. “Well done. That’s one less threat to the livestock, that is. You should go home straight-a-way and get the teeth cleaned.”

   Shri grinned. “Sounds good,” he said. “Why don’t you do the same? You’ve got something in your teeth again.”

   Kray laughed—a little louder than was necessary—as Jeir began glumly picking his teeth with his finger.

   “Just kidding!” Shri patted Jeir on the back. “I’m off. I’ve had a long day, and I need food.”

   “Okay! Bye Shri!” Kray chirped as Shri walked past them. Jeir looked a little disgruntled by the food-in-the-teeth remark, but nodded good-bye all the same.

   Shri plodded along, receiving several approving waves and friendly greetings as he made his way through the village to the stables. As his father was the village stable-master, their house was located right next-door.

   Shri pushed open the door and heaved the lion head onto the table. He carefully polished the teeth until they gleamed brightly. After sharpening a long wooden pole, he planted the head right outside the front door, admiring the effect before returning to clean the claws.

   He had just begun looping them to a leather cord for a necklace when he heard a rider approach. The rider grunted loudly when he dismounted, letting Shri know that his father was home. There was a brief pause and a snorting noise before footsteps led the horse-hooves into the stable.

   When the stable door opened, Shri grinned amiably. “Busy day?” he said cheerfully.

   Jek, Shri’s father, was a heavily bearded man with a rough face. His gray eyes were still sharp and quick, but his hands were losing their strength to age.

   “I’m always busy,” he grumbled. “While you were out, I had to shoe five horses, deliver a foal, and set a mare’s leg, all by myself.” He flopped onto a wooden bench.

   “Sorry,” Shri mumbled. “But I got a lot done, too.”

   “I saw that,” Jek said, a touch of annoyance in his voice—How can he possibly be annoyed, Shri thought. That lion was killing too many animals!—“You disappear all day to play around in the woods, while I run around here trying to make up for all the work you’re missing!”

   “Play around?” Shri tried to stay calm. “It’s not easy to kill a forest lion, especially one as big as that! I hardly call that play.”

   “If you’re not working, then you’re playing. I need you here! I can’t do everything myself!”

   “That lion killed too many cows and goats to be left alone! Someone had to do something about it! I should think you’d be proud!” Shri was uncomfortably aware that his voice was raised, but did nothing to change that. “And as for hunting, I sell the meat we don’t need to the butcher. That counts for something, right? Why can’t you see everything I actually do get done, instead of the things I don’t?”

   Jek leapt to his feet. “Don’t you take that tone with me!” he shouted. “When you’re off on your little adventures, work around here doubles! And I can’t ask Jia to help with the horses, she’s too young! This is your life, remember that!”

   “I can make money for us with something I’m good at. I’ll help out here, but I won’t be shoveling manure for the rest of my life!”

   “And why not? Is it such a horrible life for you? Not good enough for you? It’s kept you alive so far!”

   Shri took a deep breath. “I just want to do something else. Be allowed to do things outside, instead of being shut in a horse stall all day.”

   “If you want to be outside so badly,” Jek growled, “then out you get. Go on! See what it’s like to live the life you want! Sleep in the dirt for all I care!”

   Shri felt the need to say something, but stopped himself before it got any worse. He seized his lion claws and stormed out the door. How can he treat me like this? he demanded silently. What have I done wrong? Why can’t he see who I am? I don’t belong in a stable. He came to the pasture fence and stopped, watching the sun set. If only Mother were here. Truly, his father had only ever seemed happy when Krisha had been alive; she was a perfect balance to the family. But then there was the flood, and now all Jek did is work, and he demanded that his children work just as hard.

    “What’s wrong?”

   Shri glanced to his right. Sitting on the fence next to him was Jia, his little sister. She was just a young child, barely ten years old yet, but there was something about her that made her seem older, almost like an aura of power. A second glance at her wide blue eyes and cheery expression are enough to convince anyone of her youth. She was playfully swinging her legs and held a clump of wildflowers in her hand.

   “Oh, same as always,” Shri sighed.

   “Papa again.” Jia leaned back, feet still swaying as if caught in a breeze. “You two fight too much.”

   “Really?” Shri said sarcastically. “I hadn’t thought of that! Nah, we just don’t see eye to eye.”

   “Why?”

   Shri smiled at her. She seemed so innocent, but she was exceptionally good at figuring people out and sorting out their problems.

   “Father’s content to spend the rest of his life with his horses. Shoveling manure, changing shoes, fixing legs… I don’t know—I just want something more from life.”

   Jia giggled, as if this was such an easy thing to fix. “What you need is a good adventure,” she said matter-of-factly. “See the world, meet people, do things. That’s what you need.”

   “You’re so silly sometimes. You wouldn’t understand things like this. I can’t just leave.”

   “Why not?”

   Shri shrugged. “I guess I’m kind of rooted down. I need to be here, or at least nearby. I know people here. I have friends here. You’re here.” He took a flower from her hand and, brushing some of her red hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear.

   Jia smiled widely and threw her arms around Shri’s neck. “I’m here, brother. If you need me, I’m here.”

   She let go and hopped off the fence. “Kiss the ring,” she said as she held out her hand. She wore a small silver ring with a bit of amber glass in it, which she believed to be good luck. Shri made a big show about kneeling to kiss it. “I’ll go in first,” Jia declared, and with a grin marched off to the house.

   Shri smiled after her. That was her way: after Jek and Shri fought, Jia would calm Jek down so Shri could come back in. She’s such a sweet child, he thought. What would I ever do without her?