Bedtime Stories | Slice of Life Event

Travelling during the winter months was both challenging and rewarding. Icarus never disliked travelling, but it was certainly easier when the ground was not littered with snow and ice. Every paw step he placed was a gamble whether he would find himself careening to the ground as his hoof went one way and the rest of him went another. But at least he would have a pretty view while he lay grumbling on the ground.

It was better this winter, though. Nicer now that he wasn’t alone during the cold, dark months. He had to take extra precautions with the two precious bundles that he kept close by at all times, ear warmers to ensure their ears didn’t become frostbitten, and both mittens and shoes for his daughter to protect her hands and feet from the cold since she lacked hooves. She hadn’t been keen on the idea of wearing them at first, not until he’d told her they would make her fly extra fast. She had tuckered herself out the first day by flying as fast and as much as she could—which admittedly wasn’t very quickly, though she was only a young dracus.

Mila had complained that his snow coat was too itchy and hot and tried to take it off more than once, but Icarus had told him he had to keep it on to stay warm. The poor kainu was so short that often times the snow came all the way up to his belly and he was exhausted before they’d even begun. This was the reason Icarus still had a saddle carrier for his son. Mila was small even for his age group, not that Icarus would ever tell him that. He wasn’t going to complain about it either.

When his babies had started walking all on their own, Icarus had wept with joy and grief. They were already growing up, even now Alina’s curious mind had begun to rival even his own. It was wonderful to witness but heartbreaking because he knew eventually she would want to strike out alone, to have her own adventures.

Icarus tried to remind himself that those times were ages ahead of them, that she was still his little girl even if she was a thousand thousand miles away. The thought of being away from her made his heart ache, but the thought of keeping her close and denying her the ability to see all the wonderful things he had seen in his life hurt more.

“Come along Mila,” Icarus said as he bent down to nuzzle his son’s cheek with his nose. “You’ve made it so far, you’re doing better and better every day.”

“I’m tired, papa,” the small, pale sapphire kainu all but wailed. “And I’m cold and I’m hungry!”

“I know you are,” Icarus sympathized, giving his son an encouraging lick behind the ear. “Come now, do you see that fallen tree right over there? If you can walk that far, we can lie down for the night and sleep. We’ll get all warm and cozy together. How does that sound?”

Mila didn’t respond, just sniffled and trudged on, his knees lifting high with each step as he stumbled through the snow.

“Come on Mila!” Alina said gleefully, bounding across the surface of the snow and laying flat on her belly to disperse her weight so she wouldn’t sink to the ground below. “You got this!”

Icarus appreciated his daughter’s enthusiasm and her support of her brother, but he could also see in the tremble of her whiskers and hear the chatter in her teeth that told him she was just as cold. It would be good to lay down and get warm together.

They only made it a few more steps before Mila stumbled and fell in the snow, and he didn’t stand up again this time. Icarus turned quickly and leaned down to pick his child up off the ground, holding him gently around the neck. He could feel Mila trembling and worried that perhaps he had pushed the child too far.

The fallen tree wasn’t far now, and Icarus took a moment to scrape away as much of the snow as he could from a space large enough for them all to lay down. The grass underneath was a little discolored, but still soft enough to make a welcoming bed—for a night, at least. He had left his pack with their blankets and gear at the house they had rented for the winter. This was the first time Icarus had rented a winter home, as he usually travelled despite the cold. But with two young children in tow, he thought it best not to tempt fate—not with his babies.

He curled himself around Mila, nosing the child gently until he found a comfortable position. It didn’t take long for Alina to come and lay on top of him where she usually stayed, a sound almost like a purr rumbling in her small chest.

“Papa,” Alina said, her blue eyes bright.

“Yes my dear?” Icarus said, lifting his head to touch noses with his daughter, his whisker raising up to brush some snow off her mane.

“Will you tell us about Milarose again?”

Icarus felt a guilty tug at his heart, as he did every time his children asked about their father. Milarose knew nothing of his children, but Icarus had never lied to them about him. He had his reasons for not telling the dracus that he had fathered two beautiful babies, reasons that to him made perfect sense. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty for not telling someone such an important thing. An unknowing father…did Milarose suspect? Surely not. Icarus hoped not, at the least. He knew so little about the dracus, they had hardly known one another before they were together. What if Milarose was furious with him? What if—gods forbid—he attacked the children? Icarus held no hate in his heart for anyone, but dracus were few and far between, and he knew precious little of them or their temperament. He had seen Milarose be sweet and kind, but he had also seen the dracus commit acts of savagery and violence. Could he trust someone like that with his children? With *their* children?

“He told us so many times,” Mila said, shivering where he lay. At least he was speaking again.

“And I will tell you as many times as you ask,” Icarus said. “Settle down now, and close your eyes. You’ve both had a long day and I want you resting, even if I’m telling you an exciting story.”

He’d told them both the story of how he wound up on Milarose’s farm many times, especially when they were young and couldn’t remember things very well. They were older now, but they still loved hearing about the sapphire dracus with the white mane and tail. How he had chased Icarus away from his barn, but found him destitute and dehydrated not two miles away from a river he could neither hear, smell nor see. He told them how prickly the dracus had been, especially when Icarus showed interest in his many wards. It was knowledge Icarus sought, and seeing so many examples of different breeds of drakiri in one place was exciting!

“I don’t like Helmi,” Alina said, lifting her head suddenly and scrunching up her nose. “He sounds mean!”

“He was young,” Icarus said, though he did agree the green furred, gold-scaled halfling dracus had been a bit more than just prickly. “Just like you and Mila. I never learned his story, but I’m certain that if you two had been through as much as Helmi had, you might be a little mean too. Everyone has the capability of being nice, they only need the chance to realize it and let that part of themselves shine.”

“Do we shine?” Alina asked, her blue eyes wide and bright as she looked up at him, her whiskers curled up at the end in anticipation of his answer.

“Brighter than any moon or sun,” Icarus said, leaning his head more to the side and tucking his chin slightly so Alina could rest her brow against his. He felt the rounded tip of her horn against his brow, even that showed how mush she had grown already.

“Will we ever get to see Milarose, Papa?” Alina asked as she pulled back.

Icarus’s heart felt heavy at the question, it was one she’d asked before, though she might not recall now since it had been so long. He wished he had a simple answer for her, but it wasn’t a simple situation. He didn’t trust Milarose not to hurt them, he wanted them to be old enough that they could protect themselves if something went wrong. But he also wanted desperately for them to know where they came from and have ties to both of their parents. They already had no home, as they were always moving around, travelling. What could he give them to fill that void?

“Someday, my little sun,” Icarus promised. “Someday. But not today. There is a long walk between us and him, you saw how tired you brother was after just a short walk through the snow.”

Alina looked crestfallen at his answer, and it broke Icarus’s heart to see the disappointment in her eyes. She asked, “Well maybe we could go in the spring? When the snow melts! Then it’ll be easier and maybe Mila’s legs will be longer by then.”

“I sure hope they will,” Icarus chuckled, looking down at his son, only to find the young kainu fast asleep. “Give it some time, my Alina. You will meet Milarose someday, this I promise.”

Alina nodded and smiled up at him, though he could practically feel that she still had more to say on the matter. Instead, she said, “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you more,” Icarus said, touching his nose to hers before she lowered her head and closed her sleepy eyes. “Sleep well, my loves. We’ve a long journey ahead of us.”