It was a warm October day when Kunzite first heard the news.

The three of them - he, Malak, and their father - were out and about in the nearest town centre. Although he was only nine, Kunzite didn't mind coming along to help his father. He wasn't a fan of the talking, but he liked watching people mingle around them. When their father was busy, sometimes he and Malak would be allowed to play in the square, where there were trees they would climb together. There they would have their mother's leaf-wrapped rice lunches while sitting on the strongest tree limb. Kunzite liked eating on the branch, for it was quiet and serene, and allowed him the best view of the town.

On this particular day, Kunzite and Malak were unloading their family's wagon full of produce. Their father was chatting with the grocer, doing their usual haggle, when the wrinkled gentleman offhandedly mentioned his surprise at the amount they were bringing.

"The soil's been good," Hesson said, gesturing to the fullness of their crop.

"Oh I don't doubt that," the grocer replied. "But don't you need some for the Lady?"

Hesson's thick brows knitted together quizzically. "Eh? What for?"

The grocer gestured to towards where they had just come from. "The Lady up the hill, past the forest. Lady Celes. She's got a boy. The gift-giving is tonight."

"A boy?" Hesson looked over at his own two sons, who were watching the conversation happening, wondering if it pertained to them. "When did this happen?"

"About a month ago, but they weren't sure if it were going to live."

Hesson frowned. "I don't remember a wedding…"

The grocer shook his head. "Nah, at least, not here. Heard something about them getting married overseas, maybe. But I haven't seen hide nor hair of the Sir, I'll tell you that."

Hesson's smile disappeared and he looked back at his cart. The grocer reached over with a small handful of coins.

"That's all I can spare today, I'm afraid," he said. "I got to give the Lady my own gift, and I can't afford the fancy trinkets here. Birth taxes, they's going to be end of me, I promise you."

When they returned home, the cart was not as empty as they had originally hoped. Some of it now had to go to the lord's house as part of their tax. Thankfully, in lieu of groceries, Malak and Hesson had managed to sell a couple of handmade wooden toys for the townspeople to use as gifts themselves. After speaking with Ala, the family went about putting together the additional gift-basket for the new lord's arrival gathering that night.

"It seems like such a waste," Hesson was muttering quietly to Ala, frustrated. "There is already the tax, the gift doesn't seem necessary…"

Ala merely shook her head and placed her hand on his arm. "If the rumors are true, then she will need all the help she can get," she said in a soft voice hardly above a whisper. The boys didn't need to worry themselves about the farmland politics and gossip such as this.

After a couple of hours, the basket was complete. Ears of colorful corn protruded forth, surrounded by bright red tomatoes, while hearty brown mushrooms and deep red potatoes lined the basket's woven bottom. Although Hesson seemed slightly despondent that this was necessary, Ala did not seem to grieve their loss as she threaded the leaves of the corn just so.

Next to her elbow, her youngest son held up a bedraggled flower. "Mama," Sibr chirped.

Ala picked it up and smiled down at him. "Thank you, Sibr." Although worn, the sunflower was a festive match with the corn. Sibr's best friend and elder brother by one year, Tsavor, grinned behind him as the two watched Ala pair the flower together.

Across the other side of the table, both Malak and Kunzite were watching, transfixed. Kunzite personally found the beautifying the basket strangely soothing, while Malak merely observed intently in thought, noisily exhaling through the reed pipe in his mouth.

"Can we come up with you and Father, Mama?" Malak asked.

Ala took a moment to answer as she finished the basket with one final touch: a homemade quilt, sewn with bold designs of the night sky and local petals, just big enough for a toddler to sleep with. Once done, she stepped back to lower herself into the wooden armchair behind her, but wobbled precariously. Instantly both Kunzite and her husband shot to their feet with hands outreached just in case, as Ala's great pregnant belly made it difficult for her to balance at times.

"You can go with your father, Malak," she finally answered as she settled into the chair. Kunzite noticed that his mother's stomach was much larger this time than before. Perhaps the newest brother would be the biggest of them all. "As well as Kunzite, and Tsavor and Sib'r as well, if you wi-."

"Don't want to go," interrupted the four-year-old immediately.

"Tsavor," Hesson growled lightly, and the child quickly hushed for her to finish.

"...If you wish," Ala ended patiently after a pointed stillness. She looked over at her two eldest sons. "Malak, why don't you speak for our family." Although Hesson didn't mind making the chatter at the marketplace, she knew her husband was not one for fancy noble talking. In this way, she observed her eldest son to be the same, preferring to keep to himself or behind the crowds.

Malak immediately perked up at this new responsibility, and her husband reached for the basket with his one arm. Seeing this, Kunzite's arms immediately jutted forward out to grab the basket first, not wanting his father to strain himself with his one arm.

Hesson grunted in thanks and rose to leave. "Tsavor, if Mama tells you to, you run straight up the hill to the house, understood?"

Tsavor nodded, but the four-year-old was still quite young to be out by himself. Ala gently placed a hand on his shoulder, indicating that she did not feel he needed to leave. After all, it was not as if she hadn't given birth without her husband before. "Go now," she gently pushed Hesson.

Kunzite carefully picked up the basket, and despite his unusual height, its bottom hovered just an inch above the ground. Excited, Malak leapt from his chair and got ready along with his father. After the three of them were swaddled necessarily in their cloaks, Hesson reached over to his wife and gently kissed her on the cheek.

"Stay safe," he murmured. She nodded and watched as her husband and two eldest sons left the house to embark up the forested hill. As soon as they disappeared from sight, both Tsavor and Sibr unfroze from their good behavior and began to play with their usual rambunctiousness.

When they reached the door, Kunzite was awed by the impressive size of the manor. He had never been up here, and the sights of stone and ivy were foreign and new to him. The texture of the stones seemed different than the ones he had found around their mudhut, and he wondered if it was possible to sneak a pebble home as a souvenir.

The main door swung open, and a servant lead them through the cold foyer and into the warmth of the main living room. Malak was still carrying his reed but was smart enough not to blow it in the new environment; their father's solemn silence was reminder enough for them to be on their best behavior.

There was already a small crowd, mostly of servants and other serfs and villagers who had just finished presenting gifts. The room was lined with baskets of a similar ilk, and one of the servants was carefully ticking off names from a piece of parchment. Kunzite could sense his father's discomfort; his father was used to serving with noble purpose, not as fruit bearer. Malak, however, seemed more interested in counting how many wooden toys in each of the baskets were the ones they had sold earlier that day.

As they neared the center of the room, the crowd parted to reveal the noblewoman. On the largest armchair, nearly a throne by Kunzite's imagination, sat Lady Celestite, cradling her newest born. She was a very young and beautiful woman, hardly much older than a youth herself. The light of the nearby fireplace lit her brass ringlets a flame, and Kunzite was stunned by her nearly ethereal beauty. In her sheer gown of many layers and earth-brown eyes, Kunzite could imagine her as one of the delicate spirits from his mother's tales.

As they approached the mistress of their land, Malak appeared unintimidated by his surroundings. His shoulders were straight and his head was high and confident.

"My lady," he proclaimed clearly and loudly, and Kunzite wondered where he had learned how to speak in such a manner, "from the clan of Hesson, we bear our gifts!"

Preferring not to have the crowd on them for long, Kunzite quickly stepped forward to place the basket on the ground. When he had placed it by her feet, the mistress glanced into its offerings. Sighting the quilt, she reached forward and drew it to her, and her lips parted in admiration of its work.

"This is lovely," she said softly. "What beautiful work." Carefully she lifted her baby up to wrap it in the new gift.

Malak grinned at the compliment, glowing with pride on his mother's behalf. Curious, Kunzite stepped back and stretched his head up, wondering what the baby looked like. It seemed so small - all of his brothers had been so much bigger.

Seeing Kunzite's interest, Lady Celestite smiled a bit. "You may step closer," she offered softly. "Come, he won't bite. Please meet your new lord."

Both boys immediately drew closer, and she turned her arms to reveal the tiny thing. To Kunzite's surprise, it was even smaller than he had thought. It's eyes were closed, sleeping contently, but Kunzite could just make out the beginnings of long eyelashes against its pudgy skin. The baby's face, round-cheeked and petite, looked disproportioned to the ears that seem to project perpendicularly from its head. Then there was the faintest of brass fuzz, like its mother's, glowing around his skull, and the smallest sprout of a curled lock grazed its forehead.

"It's cute," Malak announced. Kunzite wasn't sure if his brother was being polite or genuine. "What's it's name?"

Celestite drew the baby back, and the movement roused it temporarily. Squinty eyes opened blearily and Kunzite momentarily caught the sight of the baby's irises - an astounding shade of deep, leafy green - before they closed, settling into sleep once more.

"Zoisite," Celestite answered with a smile. "His name is Zoisite."