In which Kolyat does not witness his mother's murder
On the morning his mother was to be murdered, Kolyat Krios padded into the kitchen, stuffed varren clutched in one hand, and his opposite thumb still trying to make the pilgrimage to his mouth, though he should have stopped by now. He found his mother and father laughing over the stove, as the latter "helped" make breakfast. His father snaked an arm around her, pretending to cuddle as he snuck something extra into the pan.
Irikah laughed, slapping his hand too late. "You are doing it wrong," she complained, and then Thane leaned in and kissed her.
Watching his parents, still in pajamas and laughing with each other, Kolyat giggled; and when his mother turned, he saw a smear of laika on her nose, deposited there when his father's nose had brushed against it. The original streak of batter had gotten smeared all over Thane's face, but his father didn't seem to mind.
"There's my sleepy boy," Thane said, smiling. He crouched low for Kolyat to come running into his arms.
Kolyat did, leaping the last step, even though he was already too big for this, too. Thane caught him, like he always did, and lifted him up to see the stove, settling the boy on his hip in the same, comfortable way. Just like always. Even though he knew he was too big, he still loved when his father held him like this.
"Your mother insists we don't put chocolate in laika. But I think we should try it. What do you think, Kol?" His voice was pretend-serious; a serious man asking an important question about how to make proper laika.
"More chocolate!" Kolyat declared. His father had asked what to do with breakfast, and Kolyat was more than happy to answer. More chocolate, always more chocolate.
Irikah threw her hands up in frustration. "What am I to do with you two?" But after that, she kissed each of them on the forehead, and added more to the pan, turning them into chocolate-chip laika; the anger was just pretend. "Go, go sit down," she told them.
"We can't sit yet," Thane said. On top he sounded reasonable, but he was teasing underneath. "There's something that needs to be done before we can sit and enjoy breakfast."
Kolyat nearly shook with the excitement. "Did it happen? Did they fall?"
"They did, in fact. You fell asleep before you could see, but I recorded it for you. A rain of stars, all across the sky. Now, what kind of presents do you think they turned into when they hit the ground?" Thane tapped one finger on Kolyat's nose.
Kolyat wriggled. "Let me see, let me see!" No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get to the floor; though his stuffed varren fell, Thane would catch his son, turn him, until he was confused and giggling.
"Thane, you are teasing too much," Irikah said mildly.
"All part of the tradition." But he set Kolyat on the ground to stumble around dizzily. "Now go, Kol, go find them all."
Laughing, Kolyat took two steps and fell, then scrambled to his feet again. Starfalls meant presents; everyone knew that. There was a starfall last night, and that meant there would be little presents hidden all around the house, from where they had fallen.