Spinning Fate's Threads

Abel fidgeted nervously with the cufflinks attached to the silk shirt he wore and tried to calm his breathing as much as he could. He was wondering for the thousandth time why on Earth he had agreed to let Blaze officially adopt him. It always came back to the same answer in his mind: She had been a mother figure to him for centuries and he really wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere other than the Vatican.

He stumbled a little as the ship pitched and rolled. It had been nearly an hour since Jeirn had spotted land from his perch near the top of the mast. Everyone had shuffled below decks to get ready, which was a fairly complicated affair as Abel had soon found out.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, he wished Seth could have been there with him at least. But only Blaze’s direct descendants were allowed to be part of this procession, with the exception of Jeirn because he would be acting as a personal guard. Not that it was actually needed because this was Blaze’s home and Abel very much doubted she would have any trouble taking care of any difficulties herself should they arise. Skye’s husband Sunny had opted out because he was on assignment for her and everyone else was due to meet them the next day.

He avoided putting the coat on just yet because he didn’t want to wrinkle it and he was too nervous to stay still. He paced the floor and fidgeted with the loose strands of his unbound hair. It felt odd to not have it confined to its usual tail but he had been informed that certain hairstyles, particularly those that were upswept or drawn back, conveyed rank. Even a simple ponytail could mark one as a commoner or a Count depending on how it was worn so he had left it down knowing someone would correct the error if he turned out to be wrong.

He had watched in mild fascination as Skye’s nimble fingers wove intricate braids into Blaze’s hair and around the bronze, silver and gold diadem that ran around her head. Blaze had been growling and cursing her position the whole time. Hunter and Gun had been smiling in amusement until she had started threatening fireballs at which time they had removed themselves and Abel from the room for safety’s sake.

They had dragged him down the short hallway to his room, laughing all the way.

“So glad I’m only a Duke instead of a prince,” Hunter had said, patting the sides of his own upswept hair. It had been braided along the sides and held back with intricate clips of silver and amethyst, the rest hung loose down his back. Gun’s hair was done in the same fashion and they looked more alike than ever.

Gun had chuckled. “I swear, that’s why Jeirn cuts all of his hair off before coming back home.”

“Why?” Abel had asked.

“Because, Jeirn is a prince but he can usually get out of it due to his status as a warrior,” Gun explained. “Abel, are you okay? You just suddenly went completely white.”

“I’m fine, Gun. I’m afraid traveling by sea doesn’t usually agree with me. I just need to rest for a bit.”

They had deposited him in his room shortly after that. Gun left reluctantly, casting several worried glances over his shoulder as Hunt dragged him out the door.

He was still trying to calm down when Star and Skye knocked. When they walked in he was again struck by how much both sets of twins looked completely identical. In most others he’d seen, though they had been few and far between, there was at least some difference that marked them. He thought that maybe this time it was the identical dress and hairstyles that made it even more painfully obvious. The only way to tell them apart at the moment was the fleeting glimpses of the tattoos they each had through the slits running the length of the sleeves. Star’s was of a shooting star with flames trailing in its wake, while Skye’s was a small, red and gold feather. Each marking them as a member of Blaze’s family. He wondered vaguely if he would have to be tattooed as well. The members of Red Shaman were marked in some way or another as far as he knew and as he understood it, all of them bore some element of fire in the design identifying them as Blaze’s family.

“Hey, you okay, kiddo?” Star asked. That snapped him out of his reverie and brought him back to the current situation.

“Huh, oh, yes. I’m fine.”

“And I’m little red fucking riding hood,” Star snorted. “You feel like you’re about to come out of your skin any second.”

“I guess I’m just a little nervous is all.”

“You’ll be fine, bebe. Sit in the chair so I can fix your hair like it’s supposed to be,” Skye said.

“But I thought certain hairstyles conveyed rank,” Abel almost stammered, even more confused now.

Skye patted his shoulder while Star guided him into the chair. “We thought you understood what would happen when Goddess adopted you.”

“W . . . what do you mean, Skye?”

“Abel, sweetheart,” Skye said gently. “When she adopts you, you’ll be considered her son. Family is taken very seriously here. She’s only taken on two others in this fashion. It would have been five but the other three politely refused.”

Star rolled her eyes. “What she’s beating around several thousand bushes to say is, when Gran adopts you, you’ll hold the rank of a prince, same as Jeirn and Oracle do. Abel!? Oh, hell’s bells.”

He hadn’t heard the last part because his eyes had rolled back in his head as he fainted dead away.