The next day, the cart came to a stop by a rather cozy looking house. It was just on the outskirts of a small village, and snow fell softly as if it wasn't summer. Coran drew their cloak tighter around themself, shivering. They felt nerves tighten up their throat, and found that it was difficult to speak. Even more so than usual.
They realized that they were, in fact, ten years old. And they would be seeing their mother for the first time since they were nearly four. Julius knocked on the door, and the two of them waited for a response. The woman who opened the door couldn't have been more than thirty years old, and her long red hair was in a braid down her back. She blinked in surprise.
"Sage Julius?" He nodded, and she turned her attention to Coran, eyes widening "I-is this..?"
"M-mama?" Their voice was timid.
The Plegian woman took her child up into her arms, hugging them tightly and whispering apologies for leaving them behind. Coran hugged back, feeling relieved that she was glad to see them. They hadn't realized they were nervous about her acceptance, but they were glad to have it. Arya invited the two of them inside, offering to cook. She apologized for not having anything ready, but Julius waved it off, saying they hadn't exactly warned her she would be having guests. After putting their things in the sitting room (which was small, but that didn't matter because Coran and Julius tended to travel light), Arya made them tea. As the three of them sat at the table, she spoke.
"Happy birthday, Coran."
Coran, despite the cold and lack of material gifts, found that it was the happiest birthday they had the pleasure of receiving. Family was the greatest gift of all.
Word Count: 303
In which Coran celebrates their happiest birthday yet.
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Next Saturday: Coran decides whether to stay with their mother or keep travelling.