Wish

Chapter 4

Baz

When I hear that a fight is going on in the middle of the Fen, I don't wonder if one of my children is involved. I wonder vaguely which one. I'm not overly concerned, because I've taught all three to finish fights, and their mother taught them not to start them. However. I am not idealistic. There's no way one of them is not involved.

I am, however, practical. I go to our den, change out of my armor, and make sure by some miracle they're not there. They are not. No one is. So, I proceed to the center of town, where shops and armory are, to find however many kids are involved in the current brawl. 

Most brawls are relatively good natured, unless somebody has stolen somebody else's girl or guy or something of that nature, we Fae tend to get along well enough. Mostly it's the kids, sparring for fun and getting a bit out of hand to prove themselves. Or one of my kids has done something colossally stupid like stolen something or offered to best someone in combat in order to get something they want. In all fairness, little Ash doesn't start those sorts of fights she finishes them. And Willow tends to avoid fights he gets picked on now and again and his—

Stupid stupid brother decides to fence with like ten other people in order to defend him or something exactly like that.

"Am I going to get a reason or do I just have to shrug when your mother asks what happened to you?" I ask Jensen, as he lands, back first, in a pony-trough pursued by minimum five other swords men.

"Busy, father," Jensen says, just rolling out of the way in time not to get skewered.

"No, you're not," I say, tossing blinding dust in all their eyes. The boys, young men but boys from where I'm standing, cough and mumble their apologies.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, causing a ruckus like this in the middle of town," I say to them, leaning on a fence post and not being too upset about it, because, let's face, it I 210% was doing the same thing at their age. Ish. I think Jensen was born when I was their age, meaning the war was on. Anyway I'd've been doing it in spirit.

"Yes, Papa," they all mumble, sheathing their swords and rubbing their eyes, mumbles spells to get it out.

"You, what's your excuse again?" I ask, pulling my offspring up by his arm.

"None, Papa," Jensen mutters, annoyed at having his game ended no doubt.

"You were out late last night, pretty girl in Tira caught your eye?" I ask, even though I doubt it's the case.

"No, I was just looking for a job and mucking around," he says, shaking his head and still rubbing his eyes as I guide him well away from his attackers. I tend to believe him. He's shown relatively little interest in the opposite or same sex for that matter, even when he was a teenager. He stays in our den, or out in the forest, happy with his trees and his animals. The happy part is what I'm generally concerned with. He's been spending a lot of time in Tira lately.

"All right then, just checking on you," I say, rubbing his hair and stopping guiding him so he runs into a tether and nearly falls down.

"Jerk," he laughs, blinking and starting to regain vision.

"Baz your---oh you found him."

"Yep—thank you Maeve," I call, nodding. Everyone was happy to tell me there was a brawl going on. They just tell me now with the expectation my kids are responsible or if they're not I was responsible enough at that age to now be responsible for stopping it.

"Where've you been all day, anyway, Ash said you went into Tira?" Jensen says, finally getting his eyes cleared and jogging a bit to catch up with me as I walk towards the pub.