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Aurin holds his mother's hand as she leads him from the street to his aunt and uncle's house. He's been here only a couple of times, and can't remember most of them distinctly; they're sort of awkwardly related, his dead father's half-brother and the wife thereof. But now they have a baby parunia, and that means there is a dragon related to Aurin who is not too far from his age, only thirty-one years younger. This is apparently the sort of relation that it will be particularly enriching for Aurin to meet. They can do this now instead of waiting a month, because parunias don't die when they're babies; this one is safe, unlike the miscellaneous cousins on his mother's side he's never met because they are all in too much danger to get attached to (and have all succumbed to that danger). So here they are. Even though it was a very long flight and he couldn't ride his mother for takeoff and landing when she had to be a heron, only for the middle part.
Alys knocks on the door.
"No-o," says Mial. "I don't want to yet, and Mom and Dad say I can wait as long as I want. And sometimes potions do weird things to people and if I'm not on it as long then it won't do as many weird things to me. So I'm waiting until I really need to."
"No!" giggles Finnah. "It isn't! You are supposed to eat them with tea. But also, Mommy puts tea in hers."
"I bet you can!" he says. "I bet you can put... cake things... in tea. I will get Mom and Dad to make some."
Mial holds out another year and a half.
Then he admits defeat. He can barely hide his pain anymore; he cries almost incessantly. It's time for the loopy drugs.
In all that time, no more drastic side effects have been recorded. It's the best thing on the market right now. His parents go out and get a supply of the potion.
His particular flavour of loopiness involves being bouncily energetic. It takes both parents to keep up with him. He chatters and climbs things and requires more and more complex games just to keep him sitting in one place for longer than three degrees. And he doesn't win them so invariably anymore, because he gets distracted or because they are, wonder of wonders, actually beyond his difficulty level. But since losing no longer sends him into angles- or days-long crying fits, it doesn't matter as much.
greatcomposure
Distant memories of his personality before esu incline both his parents to think this might just be what their son is like when he's not in terrible pain. Or at least mostly that.
It's cheering, even if they're both finally starting to get a taste of the exhaustion of home-shren parents. (It could be worse. He could be this energetic and in agony.)
It's cheering, even if they're both finally starting to get a taste of the exhaustion of home-shren parents. (It could be worse. He could be this energetic and in agony.)