In Which Mestral and Valdena Play Mahjong
Bright green eyes looked skeptical, and the young girl's black hair was swept back by a pale hand in confusion so that she could get a better look at the pile of tiles her father has just finished laying out on the oak kitchen table. She adjusted her seating so she could see better over her father's shoulder.
"What is this?" Valdena asked, confused. The tiles had some similar patterns, but there was quite a variety of them and they were laid out in pretty patterns across a section of the table.
Mestral began adding roughly-carved pieces to the various levels of the board as his daughter hovered. "This is mahjong. Since you have claimed that chess is no longer a challenge, I present to you a new game."
"Chess is really boring," Val confirmed, furrowing her brows. "What is…mahjong?"
"This is also a game of strategy. A game of calculation and skill. However it is also a game of luck. You may find this more stimulating. It originated during the Qing dynasty in ancient China, and has remained popular since."
Mestral finished laying out the tiles. "These," he pointed to a set with circles in various numeric patterns, "are called dots."
He gestured towards what appeared to be sticks in different amounts, "These are the bamboos." Mestral continued to explain the rules of the game to Val. She grew more interested the further he explained.
She sat down in her seat opposite Mestral, ready to begin a game. As they played, to keep her as occupied as possible, Mestral quizzed Val on her schoolwork and studies. She found it wonderfully challenging to try to keep up with both, and although it was no surprise when she lost the first round, Val smiled up at her father.
"That was a nice change," she said. Mestral nodded his head slowly in acquiescence. They played another round, which Val lost again gracefully.
"You will be a worthy opponent someday," he encouraged, which only made Val's smile grow. Even though she was only six, Valdena was half Vulcan. The only one of her kind. She had her mother's eyes and blood, and her father's hair and intellect. Her most recent book report had been on The Odyssey by Homer, which had left her second grade class speechless and baffled. The teacher had called Mestral in for a parent-teacher conference after that.
The challenges of raising a hybrid child on his own was sometimes quite preoccupying, however days like this were worth all of the 'bad' days. To engage his daughter's mind, to see her across the table from him healthy and strong, was more valuable than anything he had ever owned.
As Mestral got up to begin preparing dinner, Val went outside to feed the chickens they had begun to raise. Through the window above the sink, he saw his young daughter spreading feed and talking to the hens, with towering forest behind and a lake glimmering between the tree trunks, and he knew peace.