![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Winds of Vesperia - Family, By Any Means Necessary
Family, By Any Means Necessary
Six years ago…
Senior Mage Cadet Amber Stormweaver knocked tentatively on her mentor’s door. There were conventions around the Mage Corps, ways to indicate that you were in study or conducting experiments and should not be disturbed. Still, people sometimes forgot. It was best to be cautious when arriving unannounced.
“Come,” came a voice from within.
Amber opened the door and walked into the small study. Mage Captain Donna Flamehand sat behind her desk, reading. She looked up in time to see her apprentice enter the room. “Amber. I thought you would be busy preparing for the ceremony. What can I do for you?”
The younger mage sighed and found her way into the guest chair, the same one from which she had given so many reports on the progress of her thesis. Her thesis was, however, complete. Tomorrow she would not formally require the assistance of a mentor. Soon she would be able to take on apprentices of her own.
“You were at the Admiral’s speech this morning, weren’t you?” asked Amber. “I thought I saw you there.”
Donna nodded.
Amber fidgeted with the buttons of her jacket – an uncharacteristic gesture from a woman who was usually so composed. “I understood his point, about the need to perpetuate the race, about how we need to maintain sufficient diversity to ensure a healthy base from which to repopulate the species when we arrive at our destination.”
Donna again nodded.
“Magus, I understand. Truly. I want to do my part. But… tomorrow I become a full member of the Corps. I can finally start self-directed research. How can I stop now to have children? I’m graduating a full two years early! Am I meant to lose all that progress?” Desperation had crept into the younger woman’s voice. She knew the likely answer, and she did not like it.
Her mentor regarded her across the desk. Amber looked down. Putting her own ambitions above the needs of humanity was selfish, and she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself. There was so much she wanted to do! So many research avenues to explore! So many spells to develop! Her head was brimming with ideas, and she was young enough and cocky enough to believe that she was the only one who could carry them out.
Donna Flamehand rose in one smooth motion. “Come with me,” she said.
Amber fell in step as they left the Mage Captain’s office and wended their way to the arcane library. The public library, the one used by officers and the populace, was elsewhere. The Repository of the August College of Mages was only open to members of the Corps. Partly this was to maintain secrecy, but mostly it was to ensure no one blew themselves up accidentally.
They checked in at the front desk with the elderly librarian. Donna leaned over the logbook and filled in the next open row in her precise handwriting. Mostly out of habit, Amber memorized the number of the book and page they were meant to reference. It was in a section she had never heard of before.
The walked between stacks of spellbooks and scrolls until they had crossed nearly the entire length of the library. Donna confidently reached for a book covered in embossed red leather and pulled it off the shelf. The two women walked back to the reading podiums and Donna placed the book on one of the lecterns. She flipped it open to a well-worn page and stepped aside.
Amber stood before the book, the rows of draconic symbols already calling out to be read. With a gesture she cast read magic and let her eyes sweep over the text. It took a few minutes, and the senior mage stood by quietly as her apprentice absorbed the arcane writings.
When she was done, Amber looked up, confused. “Is this anatomically possible?”
Donna nodded. “For the duration of the spell, the target becomes a fully-functioning member of the opposite gender, with all the resultant physiology.”
Amber licked her lips. “But that means I could…”
“Father children, yes.”
“And how long is the duration?”
Donna shrugged. “For someone at your level of training? Seven hours, perhaps eight. Certainly enough time to do what needs to be done.”
“And would I… How would I know how it works, from the man’s side?”
Her mentor smirked. “It’s fairly obvious. Trust me.”
A thought occurred to Amber. She was surprised it had not come to her before, but shock had crowded out her normally-logical thought process. “Have you?”
Donna seemed unperturbed by the question. “Fathered children? Yes. Four sons. Three made it past childhood. One looks to be on track to enter the Corps in a few years. I’m extremely proud.”
“And… others? How many of the women in the Corps have sired children?”
Donna thought a moment, calculating in her mind. “A fair amount,” she said at last. “Almost everyone who reaches Mage Captain. Certainly everyone who reaches Archmage. One of the requirements for becoming a high officer, even amongst the Corps, is to demonstrate you’ve had children, that you’ve done your part to perpetuate humanity. But most of us are private about it. It’s not the sort of thing we want publicized.”
Amber’s mouth did not hang open. She was a Mage Cadet, nearly a Mage Lieutenant, and it would not do to show befuddlement in front of an officer. But her mind reeled with the possibilities. “And… are there any special access privileges for this spellbook?”
A hint of a smile touched the senior mage’s lips. “You know it exists. That’s permission enough.” She put a hand on Amber’s shoulder and looked into the eyes of the woman who would be her apprentice no more. “Whenever it looks like there are only two answers, there’s always a third,” she said. “Remember that.”
*****
Today…
It was the first time Amber had gathered her entire family together in one place: her three children and the three women who had mothered them. Anastasia was still a little wobbly on her feet, but she was happy to grasp at any object that was set near her. Mikka, meanwhile, was fascinated by the baby and insisted on babbling about her in words that almost none of them understood except his own mother. Evelyn – now called Evie Dragonheart – had been pulled out from her new clutch for the day, and instructed her half-siblings in a high-pitched voice that both of them ignored. Normally children who entered the clutches were not expected to see much of their parents, but Amber was a Mage Captain First Class about to leave on a dangerous away mission, and that allowed for certain dispensations.
The four women snuggled in the corner watching their children play. Amber was acutely aware this was the last time she would enjoy their companionship for months, maybe for years, maybe forever. There was no guarantee that she would return from the rift to see her children grow up.
She brushed a stray lock of hair from Karine’s face. “I’ll miss you,” she said softly. “I’ll miss all of you.”
There were murmurs of support, murmurs of sympathy. Karine kissed her neck.
“You’ll be all right,” said Mantha, taking hold of her hand.
“You have to say that,” replied Amber. “If you didn’t think people would be all right, you’d give up on half the cases in your sickbay. Believe me – I’ve seen your patients. If you weren’t an optimist, they’d be doomed.”
Mantha swatted her lightly. “Let me have my optimism, then,” she said. “So long as you come back.”
“Mommy, what does ‘optimism’ mean?” asked Evie from the middle of the room.
Karine sighed. “Trust that girl to listen when she’s not supposed to,” she muttered. Then, louder, “It means that you always think the best things are going to happen, sweetheart.”
“Dragonheart,” corrected Evie with the certainty that only a five-year-old could marshal.
“Dragonheart,” agreed Karine.
“Are the best things going to happen?”
Karine sighed and laid her head against Amber’s shoulder. “I hope so,” she said.
Satisfied with this, Evie turned back to continue dominating her siblings.
“I could requisition something for you,” suggested Loydie. “I’m sure we have equipment in the workshop that could be useful. That could… Well, that could help.”
Amber stroked Loydie’s hair. “I’m sure you could,” she said. “But I’m well equipped, I promise. The Corps – the Fleet – wouldn’t send us in empty-handed.”
“It can never hurt to have more,” Loydie pointed out.
Amber smiled. “I’m not as strong as Nessa. I’m not even as strong as Tam. There’s only so much I can carry.”
Loydie waved a hand dismissively. “They’re not giving you a bag of holding? What kind of quartermasters are they?! How are you supposed to bring back samples for all your mystical research?!”
Amber laughed aloud. “They’re giving me everything I need, I promise. And I’ll have more than enough material for research when I get back. Think of it – a new world! One not bounded by the walls at the other rift, just… open. Waiting.”
Karine frowned. “’Waiting’ is right. When they find out you’ve come…”
Amber took her face in both hands and kissed her deeply on the lips. “We’ll be fine,” she said. “We’re faster, we’re more maneuverable, and we have better magitech.”
“Now who’s being the optimist?” put in Mantha.
Amber sighed, a dark cloud passing in front of her eyes. “Promise you won’t worry for me,” she said. “I chose this mission. It’s a great honor. And if I fall, I’ll fall in the service of all humanity. What better end could there be?”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Mantha sourly. “You won’t fall.”
Amber ran her fingers along the back of Mantha’s neck. “I have no intention of falling,” she said. “But if I do…”
“If you do, I’m renting out your side of the bed,” said Loydie.
“Deal.”
Amber smiled and closed her eyes. Her breath came slow and steady as she memorized the scene: her children playing in front of her, the women she loved nestled against her. Soon, she would leave it all behind. Soon she would be in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by enemies. It was frightening… and exhilarating. One day she would return to publish what she had seen. Or perhaps they would raise a monument to her, to the memory of her service. Either way, she would be content.
She opened her eyes as three small bodies slammed into the pile of women. “Mommy, Ama Lee says that real dragons roar so loud the whole room shakes and everyone runs away! Watch me roar, Mommy!” Evie let loose with a shriek that bounced off the walls, high-pitched and menacing as a kitten. Mikka and Anastasia, not to be outdone, also took up the noise until the room was a cacophony of tiny shouts.
Karine rolled her eyes. Loydie pinched her nose.
Amber reached down and caught Evie in her arms. “You’re a dragon, are you?” she asked with a mischievous grin. “Tell me, how do dragons react to… tickling!”
And then, for a time, she lost herself as the shouts dissolved into peals of laughter.
Note for later reference:
Child – Age – Mother
Evie Dragonheart – 5 – Karine Silverwing (artillerist)
Mikka – 27 months – Loydie Brighthelm (engineer)
Anastasia – 15 months – Mantha Icebolt (nurse)
Six years ago…
Senior Mage Cadet Amber Stormweaver knocked tentatively on her mentor’s door. There were conventions around the Mage Corps, ways to indicate that you were in study or conducting experiments and should not be disturbed. Still, people sometimes forgot. It was best to be cautious when arriving unannounced.
“Come,” came a voice from within.
Amber opened the door and walked into the small study. Mage Captain Donna Flamehand sat behind her desk, reading. She looked up in time to see her apprentice enter the room. “Amber. I thought you would be busy preparing for the ceremony. What can I do for you?”
The younger mage sighed and found her way into the guest chair, the same one from which she had given so many reports on the progress of her thesis. Her thesis was, however, complete. Tomorrow she would not formally require the assistance of a mentor. Soon she would be able to take on apprentices of her own.
“You were at the Admiral’s speech this morning, weren’t you?” asked Amber. “I thought I saw you there.”
Donna nodded.
Amber fidgeted with the buttons of her jacket – an uncharacteristic gesture from a woman who was usually so composed. “I understood his point, about the need to perpetuate the race, about how we need to maintain sufficient diversity to ensure a healthy base from which to repopulate the species when we arrive at our destination.”
Donna again nodded.
“Magus, I understand. Truly. I want to do my part. But… tomorrow I become a full member of the Corps. I can finally start self-directed research. How can I stop now to have children? I’m graduating a full two years early! Am I meant to lose all that progress?” Desperation had crept into the younger woman’s voice. She knew the likely answer, and she did not like it.
Her mentor regarded her across the desk. Amber looked down. Putting her own ambitions above the needs of humanity was selfish, and she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself. There was so much she wanted to do! So many research avenues to explore! So many spells to develop! Her head was brimming with ideas, and she was young enough and cocky enough to believe that she was the only one who could carry them out.
Donna Flamehand rose in one smooth motion. “Come with me,” she said.
Amber fell in step as they left the Mage Captain’s office and wended their way to the arcane library. The public library, the one used by officers and the populace, was elsewhere. The Repository of the August College of Mages was only open to members of the Corps. Partly this was to maintain secrecy, but mostly it was to ensure no one blew themselves up accidentally.
They checked in at the front desk with the elderly librarian. Donna leaned over the logbook and filled in the next open row in her precise handwriting. Mostly out of habit, Amber memorized the number of the book and page they were meant to reference. It was in a section she had never heard of before.
The walked between stacks of spellbooks and scrolls until they had crossed nearly the entire length of the library. Donna confidently reached for a book covered in embossed red leather and pulled it off the shelf. The two women walked back to the reading podiums and Donna placed the book on one of the lecterns. She flipped it open to a well-worn page and stepped aside.
Amber stood before the book, the rows of draconic symbols already calling out to be read. With a gesture she cast read magic and let her eyes sweep over the text. It took a few minutes, and the senior mage stood by quietly as her apprentice absorbed the arcane writings.
When she was done, Amber looked up, confused. “Is this anatomically possible?”
Donna nodded. “For the duration of the spell, the target becomes a fully-functioning member of the opposite gender, with all the resultant physiology.”
Amber licked her lips. “But that means I could…”
“Father children, yes.”
“And how long is the duration?”
Donna shrugged. “For someone at your level of training? Seven hours, perhaps eight. Certainly enough time to do what needs to be done.”
“And would I… How would I know how it works, from the man’s side?”
Her mentor smirked. “It’s fairly obvious. Trust me.”
A thought occurred to Amber. She was surprised it had not come to her before, but shock had crowded out her normally-logical thought process. “Have you?”
Donna seemed unperturbed by the question. “Fathered children? Yes. Four sons. Three made it past childhood. One looks to be on track to enter the Corps in a few years. I’m extremely proud.”
“And… others? How many of the women in the Corps have sired children?”
Donna thought a moment, calculating in her mind. “A fair amount,” she said at last. “Almost everyone who reaches Mage Captain. Certainly everyone who reaches Archmage. One of the requirements for becoming a high officer, even amongst the Corps, is to demonstrate you’ve had children, that you’ve done your part to perpetuate humanity. But most of us are private about it. It’s not the sort of thing we want publicized.”
Amber’s mouth did not hang open. She was a Mage Cadet, nearly a Mage Lieutenant, and it would not do to show befuddlement in front of an officer. But her mind reeled with the possibilities. “And… are there any special access privileges for this spellbook?”
A hint of a smile touched the senior mage’s lips. “You know it exists. That’s permission enough.” She put a hand on Amber’s shoulder and looked into the eyes of the woman who would be her apprentice no more. “Whenever it looks like there are only two answers, there’s always a third,” she said. “Remember that.”
*****
Today…
It was the first time Amber had gathered her entire family together in one place: her three children and the three women who had mothered them. Anastasia was still a little wobbly on her feet, but she was happy to grasp at any object that was set near her. Mikka, meanwhile, was fascinated by the baby and insisted on babbling about her in words that almost none of them understood except his own mother. Evelyn – now called Evie Dragonheart – had been pulled out from her new clutch for the day, and instructed her half-siblings in a high-pitched voice that both of them ignored. Normally children who entered the clutches were not expected to see much of their parents, but Amber was a Mage Captain First Class about to leave on a dangerous away mission, and that allowed for certain dispensations.
The four women snuggled in the corner watching their children play. Amber was acutely aware this was the last time she would enjoy their companionship for months, maybe for years, maybe forever. There was no guarantee that she would return from the rift to see her children grow up.
She brushed a stray lock of hair from Karine’s face. “I’ll miss you,” she said softly. “I’ll miss all of you.”
There were murmurs of support, murmurs of sympathy. Karine kissed her neck.
“You’ll be all right,” said Mantha, taking hold of her hand.
“You have to say that,” replied Amber. “If you didn’t think people would be all right, you’d give up on half the cases in your sickbay. Believe me – I’ve seen your patients. If you weren’t an optimist, they’d be doomed.”
Mantha swatted her lightly. “Let me have my optimism, then,” she said. “So long as you come back.”
“Mommy, what does ‘optimism’ mean?” asked Evie from the middle of the room.
Karine sighed. “Trust that girl to listen when she’s not supposed to,” she muttered. Then, louder, “It means that you always think the best things are going to happen, sweetheart.”
“Dragonheart,” corrected Evie with the certainty that only a five-year-old could marshal.
“Dragonheart,” agreed Karine.
“Are the best things going to happen?”
Karine sighed and laid her head against Amber’s shoulder. “I hope so,” she said.
Satisfied with this, Evie turned back to continue dominating her siblings.
“I could requisition something for you,” suggested Loydie. “I’m sure we have equipment in the workshop that could be useful. That could… Well, that could help.”
Amber stroked Loydie’s hair. “I’m sure you could,” she said. “But I’m well equipped, I promise. The Corps – the Fleet – wouldn’t send us in empty-handed.”
“It can never hurt to have more,” Loydie pointed out.
Amber smiled. “I’m not as strong as Nessa. I’m not even as strong as Tam. There’s only so much I can carry.”
Loydie waved a hand dismissively. “They’re not giving you a bag of holding? What kind of quartermasters are they?! How are you supposed to bring back samples for all your mystical research?!”
Amber laughed aloud. “They’re giving me everything I need, I promise. And I’ll have more than enough material for research when I get back. Think of it – a new world! One not bounded by the walls at the other rift, just… open. Waiting.”
Karine frowned. “’Waiting’ is right. When they find out you’ve come…”
Amber took her face in both hands and kissed her deeply on the lips. “We’ll be fine,” she said. “We’re faster, we’re more maneuverable, and we have better magitech.”
“Now who’s being the optimist?” put in Mantha.
Amber sighed, a dark cloud passing in front of her eyes. “Promise you won’t worry for me,” she said. “I chose this mission. It’s a great honor. And if I fall, I’ll fall in the service of all humanity. What better end could there be?”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Mantha sourly. “You won’t fall.”
Amber ran her fingers along the back of Mantha’s neck. “I have no intention of falling,” she said. “But if I do…”
“If you do, I’m renting out your side of the bed,” said Loydie.
“Deal.”
Amber smiled and closed her eyes. Her breath came slow and steady as she memorized the scene: her children playing in front of her, the women she loved nestled against her. Soon, she would leave it all behind. Soon she would be in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by enemies. It was frightening… and exhilarating. One day she would return to publish what she had seen. Or perhaps they would raise a monument to her, to the memory of her service. Either way, she would be content.
She opened her eyes as three small bodies slammed into the pile of women. “Mommy, Ama Lee says that real dragons roar so loud the whole room shakes and everyone runs away! Watch me roar, Mommy!” Evie let loose with a shriek that bounced off the walls, high-pitched and menacing as a kitten. Mikka and Anastasia, not to be outdone, also took up the noise until the room was a cacophony of tiny shouts.
Karine rolled her eyes. Loydie pinched her nose.
Amber reached down and caught Evie in her arms. “You’re a dragon, are you?” she asked with a mischievous grin. “Tell me, how do dragons react to… tickling!”
And then, for a time, she lost herself as the shouts dissolved into peals of laughter.
Note for later reference:
Child – Age – Mother
Evie Dragonheart – 5 – Karine Silverwing (artillerist)
Mikka – 27 months – Loydie Brighthelm (engineer)
Anastasia – 15 months – Mantha Icebolt (nurse)