Harvest 39, 855
Seeing his uncle cry distressed Buu more than the story of his parents did. He had always known that his parents had died during his birth, and that childbirth was a dangerous thing. What exactly happened when a birthing a baby that made it so dangerous, he didn’t know, but until now, he assumed it had more to do with the baby than knives and axes.
“He just came in and killed everybody?” Buu asked, still a little unclear.
Uncle Kavir leaned his elbows on the table, staring at his hands. He did not try to wipe away the slow tears sliding down his cheeks, his eyes too far away to notice them. When Buu spoke, his uncle’s hands tightened together on the table, the knuckles alternating pale and flush as he kneaded them. Distantly, he shook his head.
“No. According to Fira, he came because he heard the baby was coming. He wanted to see it — you — to know that you weren’t his child. It wasn’t possible, but the man’s obsession with Vela had never been a healthy thing.
“You and your mother died in childbirth. There was a lot of blood. Fira said he barged his way in and just stared for a long time. She was still trying to save you both, but Kyro confronted him. The man pulled a knife. They fought. Kyro managed to grab the axe from the hearth, but it didn’t help him.”
They sat quietly for a long time, neither moving. The cafeteria emptied around them, leaving only the few staff and students needed to keep everything clean and functional. They gave Buu and his uncle a wide, respectful berth. At Buu’s feet, Tuag released a long-suffering sigh.
“So… I was dead?” Buu asked, and his uncle nodded. “And then you prayed until Anaya brought me back?”
His uncle went very still, like a rabbit scenting a dog. He glanced at Tuag, eyes uncertain, before nodding.
“My prayer was answered, yes, and I’m so happy it was.” He reached across the table to give Buu’s arm a brief squeeze. “But it left its mark on you. You never really recovered. I had hoped that your condition was as far as the event had touched you, but…”
“My magic.” Buu nodded, understanding. Sister Moon’s face flashed before his eyes. No wonder a goddess of murder had taken an interest in him. He ached to confide in his uncle, but felt they had both had enough revelations for the day.
“I think so.”
Buu missed the rest of his classes that day, instead catching up on recent events and touring around the school grounds with his uncle. In the evening, his uncle met with the headmaster while Buu waited outside the office, not willing to miss a single available moment before his uncle needed to leave.
The two men shook hands as they parted, both pensive.
“He’s agreed to let you stay on a full scholarship if you can get your grades up. At least until something changes with your… grimm.” His uncle seemed to taste the new term, finding it bitter in his mouth. “They’re going to reach out to some of the Eastern heathens for advice on their creature. The message will be sent when the snow thins in Waking.”
Buu nodded, but he didn’t want to talk about Tuag, or magic, or ghosts. Instead he grabbed his uncle’s hand, leading him towards the common room.
“Now that you’ve tried both, do you like fishing, or millwork better?”