Epilogue 1: Bloodbound Family

A year had passed since the death of Legacy. My father was out of the hospital. My mother had gone on her cruise and came back. My incarnation on Neamhan had watched Beth, and it was a nice weekend. Genuinely lovely.

Beth was stunned when I injected her with a little Qi, and she could go outside without a mask. That brought her the greatest joy of everything. Just being able to embrace the world again. 

We went hiking, went to the cinema, to a swimming pool, bringing along different uncles and aunties for her to have fun with. Cass and her became even closer over that weekend, bonding with the innocence that only kids could.

And then, my mom came back, and took Beth again. She was still together with Jared, and they seemed happy, so I even made an effort to not scare him off. He was a little clumsy, but he’d gotten more used to our family. And my mom had gotten kinder.

She only made snide, arrogant, and cruel comments about a quarter as much as before. A massive improvement, truly. I smiled at the thought, then shook my head. “Ready to head out?” I asked Ann.

“Zip me up?” she returned, her back to me, and I quickly closed up the dress she was wearing. With a quick flick of her hands, she brushed her hair back, then turned to me with a smile. “So? How do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” I said, smiling brightly and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Lilac really suits you.” And it did. Her dress was lovely. I, for my part, had settled for a rather nice blazer that hugged my sides. I didn’t feel like wearing a dress that day, so it would be fine.

She smiled, blushing faintly at the compliment, then nodded. “Yeah. Good to go, then.”

With another nod, I took her hand, and we headed to the car. We drove, quietly humming along to my playlist over the hum of air-filters. Cass sat in the backseat, her glass body wrapped in a dress, too. There was not much talking to do. A little while passed, and only about fifteen minutes later, we were at the restaurant. A sushi place.

We quickly headed in, sitting down at the table. My mom, of course, was already there, prim and proper, wearing a green dress that complimented her eyes. She gave me a smile. “Good evening, Fio,” she said.

Having her actually use my nickname still felt strange, but I smiled at the gesture. “Hey mom. Hey, lil Butterfly,” I greeted Beth, who promptly jumped into my arms, spinning around once. Then, I gently placed her down, letting her say hello to Ann and Cass, too, while I shook Jared’s hand, then took a seat.

“It’s been a bit since we got together like this, huh?” mom asked, giving me a sad smile. 

I swallowed dryly, but nodded slowly. “It has. But… it’ll be nice, I think.” And I truly hoped it would be. It was not a day I wanted to be faced with trouble. Not the kind where I could stomach it, so I just hoped, desperately, that things would be okay.

The anniversary of Jacob’s death. The car crash that had killed him happened today, so many years ago. It was a distant memory now, but I still remembered how it broke my world. Broke apart my parents, broke apart my family. How it shattered mom and dad in such different ways.

But it was in the past. So, I took a long breath, and put on a faint smile for my mom. She briefly squeezed my hand, and nodded. “It’ll go alright. Don’t worry,” she said gently. Then, when the affection lingered and almost clicked for me, she hurried to call over a waiter. 

I snickered internally, ordering a cola for myself and Cass, while Ann asked for some grapefruit juice. And then, we just chatted. About light topics, without much trouble, until, ten minutes later, Ivan and dad got here.

My brother wore a stylish suit, and had his hair gelled back. His beard was recently shaven, but just back enough to give him a bit of gray on the cheeks. He looked good. But dad looked… better.

This past year had been an improvement for him. Cultivation had done him good, and after knowing everything I’d done, he’d finally found the strength to fight. I could see it. The way the fire burned within him, the way he fought to leave his regrets behind. The way he fought to be kind to himself.

He hadn’t had the luxury of Orvan telling him that… but I had the suspicion that some other wise, old mentor figure probably told him something. A few bits of gray had snuck into his hair, but it looked good on him. He was bigger again, despite losing weight, having put on some muscle. And he no longer slouched… as much. 

I wrapped both of them in quick hugs, my brother longer than my father. “Hey broski,” I said. 

“Heya Bell. All good?” he asked, squeezing my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “All good.”

He smiled at me, then nodded, let go, and turned to my girlfriend, spreading his arms. “Ann! Always a pleasure to see you,” he said.

On and on the greetings went.

Until, eventually, we were all seated. And the waiter came again. Almost instinctively, I tensed up, glancing at my dad. But I said nothing. Not a word left my lips, my expression schooled with the cold discipline I’d earned from shedding my body weight in blood multiple times over.

He ordered a glass of cola.

The weight that fell off me felt almost physical. I breathed in, then out, then chuckled to myself. It was almost funny how afraid I was of my dad drinking beer, yet, when Marie got drunk, I wasn’t worried at all. How silly.

But as the waiter brought our drinks, dad just gave me a smile, and a cheers. “To our kids, and the world they saved,” my dad said, raising his glass. 

I blushed, already embarrassed, when Cass chimed in. “Two worlds, actually,” she diligently corrected, raising her own glass. “And working to make that number go up.”

Ivan, alongside me, almost sank into himself, wishing with all his might to disappear. But then, Jared’s laugh broke the tension, and he raised his glass as well, toasting my dad. “Yeah. To the future,” he said.

“To the future,” Ann agreed happily, giving me a proud grin, entirely unashamed of her achievements. The dang genius.

Ivan’s and my voices came much more hesitantly, but they came nonetheless, and we survived that moment of embarrassment - only to be confronted with something far worse. Stories from our childhood. Words that I shall never repeat.

The evening went on like that. Tense, but better than expected. Rough around the edges, with mom and dad being combative, Jared being tone-deaf, Beth being energetic, and Ivan and I caught in the middle. It was a pain, a real pain, but it wasn’t like glass shards. It was like being reminded of an aching scar as it healed. It was necessary.

So, we bore the embarrassment, and Ann squeezed my hands occasionally, just to support me enough. We ate together, we joked, we laughed, and eventually, Ivan and I got to mock our parents back. In fact, their closets held far more skeletons than ours.

They may blame me for having a whole second life and identity that I kept secret from them for years - all of which was perfectly true - but that was still far better than the haircut my dad sported when the two of them first got together. Now that was a real crime.

Not to mention mom’s more unsavoury art of which I shall not speak any further here, but the very mention of which seemed to almost give her a heart attack. We laughed about each others’ flaws, so intimately familiar with them, but there was no heat in it. No actual insecurities.

I didn’t mock dad for being a drunk, I didn’t mock mom for being a prissy bitch, and they didn’t mock me for being a rebellious idiot with authority problems who was lucky that she hadn’t ended up in jail. We left the taboo topics alone, and simply let the evening pass.

We remembered Jacob when the time was right, when Jared had taken Beth home, and Ann had taken Cass and it was just the four of us. The four of us who’d known him. We shared scarce memories of playing together, of when the world was still alright, before it all shattered, and we consoled ourselves that perhaps, somewhere out there, another family would be having that joy now.

Kids being able to play outside. Living in the world, instead of the synthetic housing units that were as much for their safety as ruinous for their freedom.

And then, eventually, even that faded. We were left in silence. With a million things to apologize for, and all of them already being forgiven - but not forgotten. I would never forget what my parents had done, and they would never forget how I broke their trust. And that, too, was something to live with.

We parted on good terms. It was an awkward, exhausting evening, but it hadn’t hurt. We hadn’t screamed, no one fought, and it was… the best family gathering I’d had in years. I snickered at that thought. The bar really was buried in the backyard. But they cleared it. For the first time in what felt like forever, my parents had truly done a satisfactory job.

Not good - far from good. But good enough. They’d changed. And hopefully, eventually, they’d become people I could genuinely be friends with as well. For the first time in forever, I believed they could do it. And that was a nice feeling. But there was safety in knowing that I’d be okay, even if things got worse.