Hm… So I thought I'd post the second chapter. Please review :-)
Chapter II. Knucklebone game
The children settled down some when their aunt and uncle left the room. Samir returned to the harp, but playing an innocent piece at the moment. His brother, Matteo, and sister, Coreen, started a knucklebones game. Coreen was winning so far, but both children wouldn't have beaten Anomen, even without his gauntlets of dexterity.
Coreen, the elder, was a spellcaster. At thirteen, she was too young to determine if she was going to be a magician or a sorceress, but she definitely had the trick with the Weave. Right now she was only getting classes of cantrips and monsters and reagents, nothing fascinating yet, but she said she knew she liked magic and was going to become a skilled magic user. She was the most determined of their children. She was the obstinate leader, though not the tyrannical type, but still uncontested. She knew what she wanted and she usually got it. She didn't like much the Cowled Wizards who where her teachers, neither did she like the untalented young people who were there because of their parent's money; she was quite young, but already aware of these things. She was very bright, the president of the school's chess club. Some gnomes as old as she was were better than she was, but she took it rather philosophically for a thirteen-years-old. Amousca wondered where she got her red hair and charisma from each time she looked at the young girl quickly becoming young woman. She was already too mature for her age and alone most of the time. Intelligent and wise and charismatic, but the kind of teenager who, despite her ease with words, ended up pretty much alone, driving the others away with her self-reliance. It worried Amousca sometimes, but she was very proud to have such a bright daughter – brilliance didn't bring dexterity, however, she smiled when she saw her miss her knucklebone.
Matteo was so much like his father. Brown hair, blue eyes, a face that already threatened to be square, he had the same short, straight nose and full mouth than his father. He also had his boiling temperament and wisdom and strength. He was a quiet child, just beginning to take a little more place now that he was away from his house and father and mother and siblings. Amousca had noticed the change in her son, as he gained assurance in himself from being by himself. Sometimes she recognized the same reactions in him than in Anomen, and she kept a close eye on him, but he was doing well. Not being human, paladinhood was impossible to him, so he had chosen to follow his father's footsteps. He was following the way of the warrior-priest of Helm, hoping to be squired in the Order. He didn't really look like he was worried about that, but Amousca noticed he was wise enough not to take it for granted. Being away from the house was doing him a lot of good, she could tell. She was proud of him for being so wise, and slowly learning to claim his place in the world.
Samir was very different. He just entered Haer'Dalis's art school at the Five Flagons and was quickly becoming the heart-winning young man of the place. He was so charismatic it was nearly outrageous, and he knew it. He was not really arrogant about it, but he used the skills he knew he possessed. He was talented for poetry, theatre, music, even for painting; his whole vision of the world was artistic. As a child, he had done a few paintings of the house, and it already showed his artistic sensitivity. He was learning to play the harp and to sing; he had the beautiful, powerful and deep voice of his father, though he did not chant for Helm's ears only. He was more slender than his brother Matteo, leaner and taller. His hair was a very light brown, yellowing under the summer's sun, and he had green eyes with thick brown lashes. He had the long straight nose of the elves and their delicate frame and features. He was the more elven of the whole family, Amousca often thought when she was looking at him. Both physically and artistically, he was elven.
Anomen's relation to each was depending a lot on that, Amousca knew. When they were children, truly children, he didn't have a problem to jump them in the air each in their turn, or to chase them around the house each in turn, or console them of their nightmares each in turn, or taking them all on his knees, pressing them against his heart and telling them that he loved them. But as they grew up, each began to create a different kind of space between them and their father, a space that Anomen had more or less ease to fill. It was easy for him to speak and train with Matteo. He was so obviously proud of the boy that these two didn't need much else to have a perfect father and son relation. It was a little less easy for Anomen to show pride and interest in Coreen's magical studies, because he didn't know magic himself. He always listened intently to her, though, and she knew he cared, but couldn't understand everything she was doing.
As for Samir… It seemed that his bard skills were scaring Anomen. Amousca knew that her husband, being a warrior and a priest, and a little poet, was moved by Samir's poetry; but the knight did not possess the artistry necessary to embrace the talent of his son in other domains, and he didn't know how to express his appreciation of his son's accomplishments. Amousca knew that, because she knew Anomen very well. She also knew that Samir was taking his father's lack of words for a lack of interest. She saw him hurt each time he was showing something to Anomen and didn't receive as much enthusiasm in return as he had hoped; she also saw him obstinately going back to his father, seeking approval for his talent, and hurting more and more each time Anomen's words were inappropriate. Amousca knew that only the words were inappropriate, not the feelings, but Samir was too young to be explained this kind of things; she was afraid that, by the time he was old enough to understand, the wrong would be done for good.
And now Anomen, no doubt sensing that his presence didn't do much good, was fleeing his house and family. Amousca didn't know how to speak of this with him; she had made him speak of and deal with far worse things, including his sister's death and his black heart and his perceived unworthiness, but somehow she didn't know how to tackle this particular problem.
Suddenly she noticed that Sarevok was back in the room, standing still in the doorway to her right. He would have seen her worry, she was sure. There was a vertical line of annoyance in the middle of his forehead, shrinking his tattoo. She smiled, and motioned him in. He came and sat in a chair beside hers. They stayed silent, looking at the children, and suddenly Sarevok grinned and went straight to Matteo's and Coreen's knucklebone table.
"We'll make a deal," he said when they lifted their heads to look at him. "I have the right to cheat with my right hand only, but you two play together and sum your points. If I win, you clean my armour, and if you win, I will do what you want, as long as you tell me now."
"You will take our turn at mucking the stables tomorrow!", Coreen said immediately.
Matteo didn't mind that much the physical workout of mucking the horses' stalls, but Coreen loathed it. Still, Matteo wouldn't complain if Sarevok offered to do it for him. Matteo agreed and moved next to his sister, leaving his place to Sarevok. Amousca closed her book and leaned forward to see what would be happening.
Matteo and Coreen played the first round, an average round, which made a great score once summed. Sarevok played his turn, perfect turn, and they repeated until the end of the game. Sarevok won, by a few points. He was grinning so loud Amousca was sure the neighbours must have heard him. Matteo and Coreen looked at each other, apparently not believing what was happening. Even their mother was laughing at them! Samir, in his corner playing the harp, laughed heartily and said:
"If the three of us are not as strong as he is, did you really believe you two could outdone him in a game of dexterity?"
Matteo and Coreen laughed then, and immediately began to shine their uncle's armour. They were very impressed with the blue dragon scale and Matteo, mostly, marvelled at the hardness, smoothness and lightness of the scale. They were done just in time for dinner.