Magus memoirs

Pandora and Jack

---Pandora's POV---

I was racing papa's wolves, when I heard mama call me and Jack and papa for dinner.

I stopped at her voice, then changed direction, skidding to a stop at the forge. Papa couldn't hear anything when he was working.

I stepped in, and there was papa, swinging the really heavy hammer, pounding some steel.

I poked him again and again. Casti chuckled from the corner, and padded over while papa grumbled about interruptions.

"Mama's callin' for dinner." I said in welsh, and he grimaced. "Sorry, mother is calling for dinner." I corrected.

"Very good. You speak a lot of languages for a six year old, remember, so grammar is important." He said, taking off his lead apron, and stowing his hammer in his jacket.

We started towards the house. It was a short walk, but we collected Jack along the way.

He was in the trees, talking to birds, His favorite thing to do. He tried to fly on a weekly basis.

He'd made a lot of gliders that all actually worked reasonably well, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to FLY.

I whistled, and the tree with the most birds shook, and my little brother climbed down. He had leaves and twigs in his whiskey colored hair.

He grinned, "Pa!! There was a bird from the west who said there was apples the size of olives!!! Is that true?!"

Papa thought for a moment, and then said "if the bird meant crab apples, then yes, there are apples as small as olives, but they're much sweeter than regular apples, and I think they don't have seeds."

Jack smiled. "Cool!!" Then we set off for the cabin at last.

Mama knew our habits. Papa was always either in the forge, with her, or playing in the forest with us.

Jack was always with her, papa, me, or in the trees.

I was always racing wolves or playing with the three of them. Or I was watching the stars. I like the stars. And maps.

I didn't always win the races, because wolves are fast, especially Fae wolves, but that's okay.

Casti rubbed his head against Grammys knee, and she chuckled. Me and jack yelled "Gramma!!" And almost tackled her.

"Where's grampa Axel?" We said in unison, speaking in Italian.

She chuckled, "he sends his regards, and he's busy with work, unfortunately, but it's my little munchkins sixth birthday, how could I miss it?"

She replied in the same language, but she was hiding something. We couldn't lie, but she could. Hmm.. My thoughts were interrupted.

Mama laughed. "Yes yes, gramma's here, yay, where's MY hug, ya little rascals, eh?!"

She growls a little, and picked us up. "Maybe I should bake me a pie, huh? Ungrateful child flavor."

We shriek accordingly, knowing she'd never really cook us, and papa chuckled. "No no no, wouldn't taste good, nope.

Maybe some forgetful wife AND ungrateful child pie? I'm getting better at making pie, I could manage." He picked all of us up, carrying us into the house.

Gramma followed, laughing, shaking her head.

We sat at the table, and papa plated the food, making sure Jack and I had as much as him.

We all ate a lot. Grampa Festin said that's just the way it was. We could eat a lot, but we didn't need to. It didn't hurt us though, so we did.