Ruby Road

      The village came into view, vibrating like a leaf from the window of his carriage. At the edge of the town—so small it hardly seemed to fit the description—the driver stopped and pulled open Rohane’s door. Happy hollers of hello filled the dusty main street from the villagers Rohane had known since he was a child. Home wasn’t far now.

     It had been a challenging week, as they had a tendency to be—especially now. The Tri-National Counsel met bi-weekly to discuss ways that Meridell, Brightvale, and the Citadel could find partnership. Peace. And how the leaders yearned for peace—it was good to see. If only they could agree on anything without hours of heated discussion.

      Jeran, after sitting through one of these meetings with Rohane, clapped the Blumaroo’s back and said, “uneasy is the head that wears a crown.” It was a well-known line from King Hagan, the ruler of Brightvale and King Skarl’s brother. Jeran would also add, while counting down the days until their next evening at their favorite sketchy tavern, “if it was easy, everybody would do it.”

     “When I first started adventuring, I never thought it would lead to this,” thought Rohane, yearning for the simpler times. For the months spent journeying across the world, helping Neopians. Using his skills and abilities to save those in need from danger. Jeran had told him—multiple times, in fact—that not every battle could be won with a sword. He said it begrudgingly. Jeran would also rather swing a sword at a problem than hear the squabblings of a frustrated room.

     But at least now Rohane could run away from all that. He could see his family without interrupt—

     “Surprise!”

     Bolting from the door was a red flash. Before he could drop his luggage, the blur embraced him with a tight squeeze. Their long, pointed wings curved around and a single, pointed tooth dug into his neck. And for some reason, the Neopian felt sticky, as if they had been working out… After the initial shock, Rohane recognized the blur. She was his auntie’s—

     “Ruby!” came a much older, commanding voice belonging to a grey-haired Darigan Zafara in a long, black gown, “what have I told you about tackling your Uncle Rohane? You’re 15—much too old to be doing that now.”

     A much younger Darigan Zafara with braided brown hair and dirtied grey tunic and trousers, stepped back, but not before mumbling, “Soooorry, Uncle Rohane…”

     It had been a few years since he had seen her last. She looked so much like her grandmother now that it was uncanny. The last time, she was well over a foot shorter and had just lost a tooth. Every time she said a word with an “s” sound, it sounded just like a Hissi.

     Rohane shook his head back into reality. It wasn’t polite to stare.

     From behind them, Rohane’s older brother couldn’t help but smirk while their elderly white Blumaoo mother held one hand to her mouth, the other around a half-finished pair of knitted booties.

     “I would’ve told you in a letter, but...” The slightly older white Blumaroo winked. “I thought you’d prefer to be surprised. Oh, and Andrea will be down here soon, she’s upstairs feeding our son.”

     Finally setting his bags down, Rohane let out a sigh. “Well, this certainly is a surprise,” he said. “Not that I mind the extra company. Nice to see you, Auntie Deborah, Ruby.”

     Ever since Rohane was young, he always referred to the former Darigan Lieutenant as “Auntie.” Back during the first Meridell war, Deborah had spared his father after he was caught doing reconnaissance on their camp. Her unit treated him kindly, bandaged his wounds, gave him food and water, and told him all about how the Citadel had suffered. But what made the two military Neopians bond was their families. The fact that they fought for the future of their children and spouses that they loved so dear. After the war, Deborah would visit them here and there—sometimes with her children—but after Rohane’s father met an early end, she came over whenever she could to help their mother with cooking, cleaning, and various farm chores… To say that their Auntie was his mother’s closest friend would be an understatement. They all considered her family. And so, by extension…

     “Can I show you what I’ve been doing?” asked Ruby, the light in her crimson eyes shining like diamonds.

     “With me,” added Reuben, pride oozing from his every word. “She’s my little protégé.”

     “Sure!” replied Rohane, pausing to give his mother and auntie a hug.

     “You boys never stop moving, do you?” asked Rohane’s mother, clearly amused by the whole affair. When the two Blumaroos replied with sheepish grins, she added, “Make sure you three clean yourselves off after you all are done, alright?”

     Deborah put her right hand on her hip and pointed her left straight at the other Zafara. “That goes double for you, grandchild. The two of us old ladies aren’t about to clean up after your messes.”

     “Got it, grandma!” she called, before bolting into the forge.

     “I’ll be good,” called Reuben, before tugging on his brother’s sleeve, “but you gotta watch out with this one—he’s trouble.”

     Rohane rolled his eyes as the elderly women laughed. Their happy conversation echoed into the forge where tapered metal—a bit rough around the edges, but still recognizable as a crude sword—sat on the anvil.

     Ruby grabbed one end and rotated it in her hand before handing it to Reuben. “This one still needs work—it’s not very good yet.”

     Reuben inspected the metal, running his finger over the surface. “I think it’s pretty darn good for a third try. No craftsman—or craftswoman—makes a perfect sword right away. But sure, give it a whirl.”

     With a hardy tug, Ruby pulled the long rope that connected to the bellows while Reuben added more coal to the low flame. After a few times, the fire was purring in the heath. She wiped the sweat off her brow and put the metal into the flame until it heated a molten red. When it came out, she was handed a hammer by Reuben and struck the metal into shape with his guidance. Her hands shook more and more with every strike, but she refused to stop while the metal was still hot. She then sanded it down with a water-powered mechanism to make a point. Watching her work, Rohane could see her drive, her intense focus on every aspect of the task. It was hard not to drift back to a time where she was sitting cross-legged on the grass, knees bouncing with excitement as Rohane sparred with his brother. Was that really only four years ago?

     “Good.” Reuben watched every step like a hawk. “Remember what I told you, Ruby. It’s okay to take your time and observe the metal—see what shape would best fit. With a little more work, this should be serviceable.”

     “You’re doing a great job, Ruby,” echoed Rohane, unable to keep a grin off of his face. “Keep this up, and you’ll be making legendary weapons in no time.”

     “You really think so, Uncle?” The Zafara’s pointed tail swished excitedly. When she realized she was doing this, she stopped.

     “I do. All the knights will be wanting one—with me as your first customer.”

     Ruby added the final additions to the rough sword, the pommel and the guard. While it cooled down, she wiped her dirty hands across her face, adding smudge lines under her eyes.

     Reuben handed her a cloth, which she eagerly dabbed her face with. “Hey, hey, you’ll get junk in your eyes that way. Cry tears of joy after your hands are clean, okay?”

     “Okay…” she said through sniffles before handing him back the soiled cloth. “Thanks, Uncle Reuben…”

     Rohane placed his hand on it and felt the warm metal. There came this sudden wave of nostalgia and he recalled a time, at this point a few decades ago, when he first felt a live blade. “This reminds me of the practice swords I would use against the other boys in town.”

      “And girl.” Reuben tossed the soiled cloth into a laundry basket. Any of the forge clothing was washed separately lest it make everything charcoal black—he only made that mistake once. “Jess is one of the town defenders now, you know.”

     “Right, right… Sorry, it’s just been a while…” Rohane rubbed at the back of his neck. “So… dinner time?”

     “After we wash up,” reminded Ruby. “You don’t wanna see grandma mad.” Her face darkened. “She gets really scary when she’s mad.”

     The brothers shared a look.

     “Right,” said Reuben.

     “Good call.”

     Being the least dirty of the three, Rohane figured he could help with some of the dinner plans. Maybe. If his Auntie didn’t lord over the stove like she was oft to do. “So, both of you take turns, and I’ll go after?”

     “Okay!”

     “Sure thing.”

     While the two of them worked on cleaning themselves up, Rohane meandered into the house, being careful to leave his shoes outside the spotless living room floor and scrubbed his hands with soap and water. Auntie was hovering around the oven while his mother set steaming vegetables on the table.

     “May I help?” he offered.

     His mother smiled as she placed a tub of butter on one end of the Darigan flag-patterned table runner. “That would be lovely, son.”

     Deborah inspected his hands from a few feet away, then his legs and feet. When she seemed satisfied by his level of cleanliness, she nodded.

     “You pass. Grab the utensils for us, will you? Such a helpful young man you are.”

     A blush crept into Rohane’s face. “I’m in my thirties, Auntie. Hardly a young man.”

     She shrugged broadly before opening up the oven with Meridell flag-print oven mitts. When Rohane offered to help, she made a firm “uh-uh.”

     “You’ll always be a young man to me, young man, hotshot hero or not.” She laid the large metal container on the counter with a grunt. “And I’ll always be your stubborn auntie. My arms have to stay in fighting shape, after all.” Although her skin sagged a bit in her older age, she still had well-toned muscles. According to one of Reuben’s letters, she was encouraging their mother to keep a training routine as well. Other than for some basic strength exercises, she declined, for one reason or another. “But help me carve this roast, will you, Rohane?”

     He let out a soft sigh. “Sure, Auntie.”

     Deborah tried to give a pat to the top of Rohane’s head; he dodged it by bending out of the way. This wasn’t unusual for her, either; both Zafaras now towered over Rohane’s entire family. After pouting from the spurned affection, Deborah said, “Thank you for your help, dear.”

     At least this was an improvement from when she would pull his cheek on arrival and give him squishing hugs, Rohane thought, hoping a crease in his brow hadn’t formed since his escape. The last time he expressed his frustration, she toned down some of her doting. Some. He and his brother would have to talk to her about this later, he decided, but he had to figure out a good time. Maybe when Ruby was asleep…

     When both Reuben and then later Ruby arrived, their fur looked two shades lighter. Ruby’s almond hair, still a bit wet, cascaded halfway down her back and rippled above her long, red and black wings, and she wore a flowing pink dress. Rohane quickly washed off himself before joining the six of them. They were all were waiting at the table patiently, chatting about this or that. Darigan and Meridell-themed plates sat in front of each chair—with the Meridell designs being in front of the Darigans and visa-versa. Andrea, Reuben’s wife, had since come downstairs with their baby in tow; she had tied back her red Kyrii mane in loose braids to keep it out of the smaller Kyrii’s grasp. The baby was happily babbling in his high chair, bouncing up and down at the sight of food. Meanwhile, Rohane’s mother had been asking about Deborah’s daughter, the training academy drill instructor for Darigan’s newest recruits, and her husband, one of the mess hall chefs. Ruby pulled an empty seat next to her and patted it with her hand.

     “Uncle Rohane!” Ruby whispered between the elderly women’s chattering, “sit here, sit here!”

     “She wants to be surrounded by her ‘ice uncles.’” Rohane’s mother used air quotes on the last two words as she tried, and failed to be, ‘the fun grandma.’

     Reuben visibly winced as Rohane turned his attention towards every direction but his mother. Andrea stifled a laugh.

     “You mean cool, Auntie Melissa,” corrected the teenager. “I want to be with my ‘cool’ uncles.”

     “Same difference,” said their mother with a shrug, clearly not convinced. “Ice is still cool.”

     “Oh, hun…” Deborah took a serving fork and landed a few slices of meat on her plate, letting the sound of the food cut through the awkward conversation. When she tried to do it for Ruby, the girl eagerly insisted on doing it herself.

     After the four of them had heaping portions on their plate, Rohane’s mother cupped her hands. “Let’s all gather here in thankfulness for good food, good company, and a loving family.”

     “Hear, hear,” replied Deborah, to which the rest of the group echoed the same.

     Rohane savored every bite, his thoughtful hums loud enough that baby Darrel copied them with a grin. The mess hall chefs were skilled enough, sure, but they had to feed a near army of Neopians. There was no way they could make something this delicious on a daily basis.

     “It almost sounds like your singing!” chirped Ruby, to which Rohane nearly choked on his bite. “Oh gosh. Y-you okay?”

     “Fi—” he coughed. His mother and brother both held out napkins at the same time, as if on cue. He took the one from his mother and wiped his mouth with it. “Fine…” the word came out a strained whisper.

     Reuben held his hand above his mouth and whispered to his niece. “My little brother’s a little sensitive about the, um, s-word.”

     Rohane shot daggers at his brother while Andrea gently elbowed her husband. Deborah swallowed a large bite of roast, then pointed her fork in Rohane’s direction. “Sensitive? Why ever for? You’re such a talented sing—”

     “S-so, Ruby!” the younger white Blumaroo could feel his heart hammering into his chest—even more so when his Auntie glowered at the interruption. “Why don’t you tell me more about your sword forging plans?”

     The younger Darigan Zafara dabbed her face with a napkin before placing it beside her. “Funny you should ask about that…”

     Rohane’s eyebrow rose as he steadied his breathing. “Funny?”

     “Yeah. I was going to wait until after dinner to ask, but… since you ask…”

     Her pointed tail wrapped around the chair leg until it got caught. When she tried to scooch over to free herself, her chair tilted, sending her face first into Rohane’s lap. You could have sworn that her soul left her body. The embarrassed squeal that she uttered made the baby clap with joy, evidently amused by the show. Rohane and Reuben both steadied the chair and helped her untangle herself as she cradled her head in her hands. Meanwhile, Andrea positioned herself nearby in case Ruby needed backup. When she saw that Ruby was well, she returned to her seat and took an extra-large helping of asparagus.

     “You’ve come this far, protégé.” The older Blumaroo brother put his hand on the back of her chair rest as the child still fought to hold her composure. There was a kind patience in his voice that Rohane had seen in his instructors—the better ones, at least. “Come on, you can do it…”

     The girl muttered something under her breath, but it was too low to make out.

     Deborah sighed. “As you probably know, Rohane, with your work at the Summit—even an old fogey like me hears about these kinds of things, you know—there’s been a lot more talk about international communication and—”

     “Grandma, wait.”

     “Oh.” Deborah laid the cloth napkin upon her lap. “Good. By all means, child.”

     “I…” Ruby stood up. “I want to go to Meridell to study swordsmanship.”

     Rohane opened his mouth, then turned his gaze over to Reuben. “But I thought my brother was doing that?”

     “Sure am,” Reuben had since put down his fork on the plate, “but she’s looking for something a little more…”

     “I wanna make decorative swords.” The words began to tumble from her mouth like a firehose set to blast. “Not just weapons for battle or tools for war. I wanna create something that Neopians can look at and say, ‘that’s pretty.’ Something that’s different, something that everyone can look back and know, ‘Ruby did that.’ And I need to learn from artisans all around the tri-national area.”

     Based on the thumbs-up that Reuben gave, this wasn’t the first time she mentioned the idea to him—nor the fourth or fifth.

     “I…” the word hung in the air.

     There was a hopeful rise in her voice. “So, can I come back with you?” When Rohane didn’t answer right away, she crossed her hands over her stomach and gave her best Pupplyblew eyes. “Pleeeeease?”

     “Ruby, that’s—” Rohane’s face twisted with concern before turning towards the two elders. “Auntie, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

     The older Zafara spun a fork with a large chunk of meat as she replied, “she’s a stubborn one, my granddaughter—takes after me. Once you get an idea in her head, it’s easier to stop a rampaging Grundonoil than her.”

     He clicked his tongue. “I won’t always be able to watch out for her while she’s in Meridell.”

     Deborah crossed her arms. “She has basic combat training from her mother and I, Rohane.”

     “I can protect myself!” Ruby echoed.

     Meanwhile, Reuben and Andrea shared a strained look, evidently predicting this might happen. There came a quick, silent agreement between the two that they would watch this unfold like a heated duel rather than get involved. Darrel babbled with excitement, trying and failing to copy the sounds coming from the other Neopians in the room.

     “You don’t have to say yes, dear,” his mother jumped in, feeling the tension, “especially if you don’t think it’s safe…”

     It was funny, really. Until Rohane came back for the thirtieth time in two weeks covered in scratches and bites, his mother didn’t bat an eye at a young Neopian heading out on an adventure. When he singlehandedly ran through her healing supplies in a month, she began to change her tune. Looking back, it’s amazing he managed to get through the first part of his journey alone. At least in this case, there would be a few pairs of eyes on her, so it probably would be fine…

     And it wasn’t to say that Ruby couldn’t practice self-defense, if need be, but… she was so young.

     On the average, most Darigans felt safe enough in Meridell—or at least, that’s what Serian claimed when asked about the subject. There was some underlying discomfort from some Meridellians, outward dislike from others, but very few would dare lay a hand on a Darigan who didn’t cause them any harm first. Of course, there were the rare exceptions to this, including the incidents where he and Serian would find themselves acting as mediators. A few times, Rohane or Jeran would be called out to quell rising tensions before they bubbled over into something more problematic… and if what Serian said was correct, some of those tensions were starting to become more frequent, more active. More organized.

     Rohane rubbed his chin so hard that it hurt. “Maybe n—”

     “Wait, wait! I need to show you something first.”

     “…ext time,” Rohane finished weakly, then rolled his hand forward. “Yes?”

     Since she had freshened up, the Zafara put on a necklace with the Meridell crest around her neck. She pulled the twine up and palmed it for all of them to see.

     It was a nice, patriotic gesture, to be sure, but the ones who could be trouble would spend their time looking at her wings, pointed teeth, and tail. “That’s very nice, Ruby, I just…”

     She turned the shield on a mechanism once around and the moment it turned all the way, there was a shimmer of light.

     Rohane’s mouth hung open, the words all but robbed from his vernacular.

     In Ruby’s place was a red Zafara. She reached back where her wings would be and pat them. “Still there…” she said, as if to reassure herself as much as the others.

     “Darigan tradesfolk—the well-to-do ones, anyway—often wear these,” explained Deborah, while her Meridellian friends couldn’t help but stare. “These artifacts help to keep us safe. I insisted that she have one; cost a pretty sum of Neopoints, it did.”

     “I’d wear it the whole time,” insisted Ruby, suddenly shy from all the stares. “Nobody would even know who I am.”

     Reuben waved his hand through the air until it collided with her wings. “That’s… a new one,” he said, then turned to his wife. “Illusion magic?”

     Andrea nodded.

     Rohane steepled his hands, placing both elbows on the table in the process. Lisha had told Rohane how young she had been when she and her friends first came to Meridell from… wherever that place was. He could never find it on a map. But she also had a whole group of allies beside her and an older brother who, while a pain in the keister, was a capable comrade and leader.

     “I’ll have you know,” Deborah cut through his thoughts; he flicked his gaze towards her. “Your efforts make things like this possible. A year ago, I’d never have wanted this for my granddaughter—neither would my daughter. Your efforts… bring this old lady hope. And hope is what we need in this world right now.”

     Rohane sighed deeply before sitting for a few seconds in silence. He could see the determination in her eyes, the fire that could only be stoked by practice.

     And as hard as it was to admit it, she wasn’t a little girl anymore.

     “...Okay. She can come.”

     “You won’t regret it, Uncle Rohane!” she squealed, hopping up from the chair. Noticing his wary expression, she coughed, then straightened her posture. “I’m ready to show you what I can do.”

     In a flash, he recalled when Ruby’s mother, Hope, brought Ruby to their home in a basket. She was so tiny back then, no bigger than a petpet, curled in a circle under a blanket and sleeping soundly.

     I wonder if this is how my mother felt when I ventured out for the first time? Rohane thought, feeling a tightness in his chest. I wonder if this is how it feels to let someone fly?

     “Then it’s settled,” Reuben chimed in once the tension seemed to dissipate. “After our week together, Ruby will go back with her second favorite uncle to Meridell.”

     Rohane rose a brow. “Second?”

     Ruby brought her arms around both of their waists and brought the three of them in together. “Both of you are my favorite uncle!”

     The families laughed before cleaning and putting away their stacks of bi-national plates. Watching the six of them smiling, playing, supporting each other, Rohane had a thought.

     ”Uneasy is the head that wears a crown, but…” Rohane sighed contently. ”The weight is worth it to pave the way for a brighter future. Together.”

     The End.