Beginnings

Ten years later

"Come, Dominik!" Sylas scolded. "You're going to be late!"

"I don't have my shoes on," his five-year-old son complained, sitting on the floor of his room with his little gentlemanly boots standing attentively next to him and not on his paw-feet. "I don't know how to tie 'em."

"I thought I showed you how to tie them yesterday."

"I forgot."

"All right, fine. But pay attention this time!" Sylas knelt by Dominik's feet and slipped the left boot on. "I'm going to lace it now. Watch me." He threaded the stringy lace through the eyelets on the boot and wove it back and forth up its length. He finished it off with a neat bow at the top, then did the same for Dominik's right boot.

"There," Sylas said, standing up. "All done."

"Yay! Thanks, Papa!"

"You're welcome," Sylas said, taking his son by the hand and leading him down the stairs to the parlour. "Now let's go. You don't want to be late on your first day of school."

Solarae was waiting for them in the small parlour of their modest tree-house. She stood by the door, holding a small homemade knapsack in her hands. She nodded approvingly to Sylas. Their one-year-old daughter, Ayva, clung to her shoulder.

"First day of school!" she chirped, and helped Dominik shrug on his backpack. "Are you excited?"

"Uh-huh," said Dominik. "And nervous. Mama, do I have to go?"

"Yes, honey." She ruffled the fuzzy fur on the top of his head. "But don't worry. You'll learn all kinds of important things, meet new friends...Won't that be fun?"

"Uh-huh," Dominik repeated, unconvinced, as Sylas took his hand again and led him out the door and onto the porch. Beyond it was a rope ladder leading back to the main trunk of the tree-house, where the school and most of the other public buildings were located.

"Good-bye, honey!" Solarae said to her son before he left. "Have fun, and stay safe. I love you."

"Love you too, Ma," Dominik said, trotting onto the bridge.

"And I'll be going out to the fields after I drop off Dominik at school. I have patrol duty today," Sylas informed Solarae. "I'll be back round sundown, as always."

"Right."

"Good-bye for now, love." Sylas lifted his hand-paw and Solarae did the same. They locked hands, letting the bracelets on their wrists clink together musically. The silver bands were exact copies of each other, embossed with a graceful vine pattern. They were the sign of a promise; both of the Enderpeople had worn them ever since Solarae had agreed to become Solarae Sunvaez almost a decade ago.

"Good-bye." Solarae lifted her glittering gaze to meet Sylas's and smiled.

As Sylas escorted his son to school, he glanced round at the busy network of bridges and tree-houses crisscrossing the mighty oaks, filled with milling, mingling Enderpeople. It was nowhere near a new sight, but today the idea of new beginnings for his son hearkened Sylas's memory back to his own new beginning in this dimension. If someone looked at him now, comfortably settled into a tribe of Overworldian Endermen with his pearl-mate, son, and daughter, they would never have been able to guess that Sylas Sunvaez really had come from the End. His days as a prince of that cold, dark world were long gone. Irrelevant, really. And that was just the way this Enderman wanted it to stay.

But it wouldn't stay that way for long.

A/N 3/27/16: Happy Easter!