No, in reality, Soren’s reasons were far more mundane. He enjoyed the routine of it. After years of sojourning across the southern reaches of the continent, never to stay in the same place long, never to plant their spears in the ground and claim a stable life, Soren savored the peace and monotony. He knew everyday life bored his brother Diar and sometimes Akila, the two of them usually off looking for mischief, but Soren was more than pleased with his lot now.
It was heartening walking a familiar path through Danann, the otherly town he, his brothers, and a handful of orcs, half-orcs, a pair of dragons, and a flock of harpies had established near the human town of Granach. He savored seeing so many friendly faces, watching the town grow, and if he got to see Briseis the dragoness’s pretty red face, well, all the better.
He sometimes worked down at the school but lately had been helping the orcs Ulmo and Ema build a new tavern. After Ema lost the recent election for Danann’s new mayor, the siblings had decided to become the town’s first publicans. There was much excitement amongst the otherlies to have their own local pub; even if Soren had heard tell that the human publicans in Granach weren’t happy to lose their best customers.
Soren never missed collecting Kiri, though, and Ulmo waved him off, knowing Soren kept to a schedule.
Although Soren had never been in charge of cub-rearing within the pride—such an honor never being bestowed upon such a low-ranking male as him—Soren had tried to learn all he could when he decided to take on raising Kiri. Routine and safety were the most important aspects he learned along the way.
Kiri was a fine cub and would make a finer man. Cheery and clever, he was adored by everyone in Danann.
“He’ll need to perform girzi soon,”Balar, the eldest of their band of brothers and the leader, had said not too long ago.“He’s ready.”
Soren’s chest grew tight at the thought of Kiri performing thegirzirites. The initiation rituals were different within the various prides; feats of strength, proof of skills, tests of cunning, they were all meant to show off and earn pride.
Kiri had been ready for a while now, he supposed, champing at the bit, as the humans liked to say, to be a true man. The only real reason he attended school was to have something to do and to play with other younglings, even if he was their elder byseveral years.
It felt like only a few days ago that Kiri was that little cub, scared and unsure. It’d taken courage to leave the pride with Soren, Balar, Diar, and Akila, but even as a small cub, Kiri had been clever. He’d known there was no life for him within their strict pride. That courage and confidence grew every day, and it wasn’t long before Kiri grew stronger, too, his weaker leg strengthened and his wings spreading wide.
Soren rubbed a spot at the center of his chest.Sig-zinim, his head was full of sentimental cobwebs whenever he thought about Kiri growing up. The cub might even want to leave home, see the wider world.
So much was already changing—Balar had recently moved his very cabin, plank by plank, to his new mate’s land to add to her home. Tucked away in their meadow in the forest, Balar and Imogen were the embodiment of happiness. Although Soren saw them often, it still wasn’t the same as having his brother live next door.
Grumbling to himself, Soren wondered if this was the melancholy some fathers spoke of, when the cubs were growing up. A sadness to see the passage of time, a wish to slow it down, a hope that there might yet be another cub to rear.
His grumbling nearly turned into a growl. No, none of that.
Soren would have no more cubs. One needed a mate for that, and Soren had long ago made his peace with knowing he’d never have one of those, either.
“The goddess doesn’t bless lukan like you,”hiserezhad once told him.
That was all right, though. Soren had been blessed in other ways. He had his brothers. He’d raised a fine cub in Kiri. He had his health and his house. There were many with less.
There was no use feeling melancholy or longing for what he’d never had, and so Soren didn’t.
Besides, that ache in his chest was soothed well enough by helping at the school.
Although there were only ten pupils this first year, Briseis, the half-dragon teacher and founder of the school, had her claws full. She appreciated whatever help Soren could provide—be it repairs to the two-room building, managing the garden the students had planted, or leading nature walks when the weather was fine.
She needed more help now that she had even more duties to attend as Danann’s new mayor, which was why a second schoolteacher had been brought on. Kiri had come home early yesterday positively gushing about the new Miss Maeve, how kind and clever and beautiful she was. Soren had bitten his cheek to keep from chuckling—the cub was already half in love.
Soren didn’t mind lending a paw helping the new schoolteacher find her feet.
His ears caught the unmistakable giggling of happy children, and Soren’s lips twitched with a grin. Around the bend, he found the school, pupils spilling out of the front door, just released for the day.
Painted a cheery yellow with a peaked moss-laden roof, it was a strangely endearing building. Soren and many others had helped to build it, another addition to their town to be proud of. Two large rooms had been set up for classes, each with a storage cupboard. Orek and Connor Brádaigh had made desks and chairs of all sizes, as well as bookcases and flowerbeds. Around back was an outhouse, and to the west, a cleared field for games and recreation.
Balls of various sizes littered the field, several chalk circles denoting different activities and games. Wooden sunflowers painted by the children decorated the front face of the school, and real sunflowers poked up from the flowerbeds.
Soren wasn’t the only adult come to collect their student;he and other parents converged near the front of the school, sharing nods and greetings. With Kiri at the school were four human children, three orclings, and two half-orclings. They were all different ages and sizes, but it warmed Soren to see how well they all got along.
Most of that was due to their kind, competent schoolmistress, of course.
Following the children out was the tall, lithe figure of Briseis. Wiping her hands on her apron, she caught Soren’s eye and smiled, showing off her pretty fangs.
To all the world, she looked like a dragoness. She shared her brother Theron’s red scales along her back and sides, as well as the clawed red wings with a leathery membrane stretched between digits. Four conical horns hid within her raven-black hair, and her kind gold gaze warmed to see him.
Soren nodded to her. If he’d ever had a hope of finding a mate, of choosing a woman to love, it would’ve been someone like Briseis. Patient, compassionate, and strong, she was good to the children and already proving herself an excellent mayor. The town was lucky to have her.
