Searing 89, 121 Age of Steel
Mother, make me
Make me a bird of prey
So I can rise above this, let it fall away
Mother, make me
Make me a song so sweet
Heaven trembles, falling at my feet
Make me a bird of prey
So I can rise above this, let it fall away
Mother, make me
Make me a song so sweet
Heaven trembles, falling at my feet
Florian had spent the better part of the morning at The Silk Purse. Though he wore his uniform, if only to attempt to convince the employees that he was, in fact, at least somewhat vetted by the state, it took nearly fourty-five minutes past when he had decided on the necklace he wanted to purchase for his mother before he left with it. It wasn't that the employees did not notice him, for they certainly did, but there seemed to be some difficulty between them watching him from afar and actually approaching him so that he could make the purchase. His pockets were one hundred gold lighter after he'd decided on a necklace. It was her birthday present, after all, and it was the first year he'd actually been able to afford anything of the sort, even if it had meant saving every scrap of coin he could reasonably keep.
Once he'd escaped the middle-class grasp of Willowby Street, he'd hid the necklace on his person. It was wrapped in a pretty piece of paper and a ribbon, but he wanted to get to his childhood home unscathed, and displaying anything of the sort once he got closer to her street would only make him a target. Even if he had grown up there, and even knew many of the neighbors, they still did not look too fondly upon the Lysanrin duo. Even the poor and nonhuman had to find something, someone to punch down on. For most of his childhood, he didn't understand the concept. Ava had always been incredibly hardworking, but she had to take odd-jobs, and she seemed to struggle to hold down anything long-term. As an adult, Florian realized that she was likely the scapegoat for issues as far ranging as theft or lack of customers, and instead, she just took what bits of work she could get, often deep in the Grungeworks. She had always, mostly, managed to pay rent on time, though there had been close calls when he was especially young. Despite this, the apartment was well furnished and even decorated, but considering how long she had had those things, he wondered if her poverty was a development more recent to his birth.
She spoke nothing of her past, and he didn't ask. Her Zaichaeri accent was the mild sort one would gain from simply living in an area for a portion of their life, and any other accent she had was unplaceable to him. Florian's was thick and decidedly East End, and as much as he tried to avoid using slang, it was impossible to ignore from where in the city he had come. He suspected that Ava Albrecht was not her real name, but he had never heard her use or respond to anything else, and no one knew her by another. And though he was known to all by Florian Albrecht, he could not fault her for changing her name, too. He had not always been Florian, and he understood the necessities of a new name and a new identity, even if it was a different sort of situation.
Though she worked with those even poorer, more unfortunate than her, she had managed to escape the sickness that had been popping up in Zaichaer. He was thankful for this. Neither of them had the resources to take her to a doctor if she fell ill. Now he could potentially enlist the help of Eitan, and he might even care enough to try, but Florian was happier that they did not have to do anything of the sort. He was not a devout follower of New Atheism, but the ideology had rid him of any knowledge of Gods beyond the fact that they existed and that they were unneccessary. He had no divine being to pray to for her health, but he wished for it all the same.
She was, after all, his only family, and he loved her dearly. She was always a good mother, even if she had herself and overwork for company, she cared for Florian and had not once made him feel unloved. He wondered how she soldiered on in a world where they only had each other. Perhaps it was for him, just as he for her. Now that he had found a complicated, conflicting, unethical friendship with Eitan, he was not quite as alone in the world. But many times, many days, many months and many years, Ava had been why Florian woke up in the morning, and why he survived.
Finding home was muscle memory. He was convinced he could find his way home in the dark, blindfolded, from any corner of the city. He felt lucky that most people ignored him this time, and he managed to make it home with her gift. Fate, perhaps, wanted to ensure that he was able to give her the present. It was not yet her birthday, but even as he purchased the necklace, he knew he couldn't wait the two days until the 91st to give it to her. She deserved it now, even if the thing was too beautiful and too expensive to wear out and about for most occasions.
He knocked on the door, a pattern that was unneccessary, because she would open the door for anyone that knocked, really. It also told her that it was him there. He'd come up with it as a child, a just in case scenario. Really, it didn't matter. She was too kind-hearted for even the very idea that she could ignore someone who may have needed enough help to knock on her door.
They greeted each other with a hug, and he was ushered inside. Ava busied herself into preparing the two of them lunch as soon as they were both inside, and Florian surreptitiously placed the wrapped gift on the table while her back was turned. She even stayed turned, but his excitement got the better of him.
"Mama, look." She turned just enough to spot the ribbon-tied, paper-wrapped little box sitting on the dining table. She sighed and turned back to where she was preparing sandwiches.
"Oh, but you didn't have to get me anything." She said, her excitement nearly disguised. Florian suspected she knew that it was expensive — nothing came wrapped like that if it didn't cost a pretty copper.
"You know I did. Of course I did." Florian chuckled, and two plates of lunchtime sandwiches were placed on the table. Ava sat down across from him and took the box before she even took a bite of her sandwich. She shook it gently by her ear, as if the sound would betray the gift within.
"What is it?"
"Just open it. It's soon enough." Florian urged, his mouth full of sandwich. He finished chewing his bite, and spoke with a bit more clarity. "You know it's the first birthday present I've been able to get you, I had to make it special." He didn't mention the agonizing trip to Willowby Street, but given even the fine packaging, he was sure she could hazard a guess. After a few minutes where she ate her sandwich first, she finally began to untie the ribbon to the box, and then very carefully unfold the paper. With continued agonizing care, she lifted the box... and revealed the necklace inside. He'd always thought gold would look good on her, and he was right; she picked up the necklace and held it to her neck immediately, and then spent some time inspecting the fine details and delicate craftsmanship. The ruby was held in place by gold ivy and vines, and the pendant was attached to a chain comprised of large gold links. She began to clasp it around her neck, but paused.
"How much did this cost, Florian?" She spoke seriously, her brows furrowed, like Florian was in trouble. But he just laughed it off and ate another bite of his sandwich.
"Mama, I could afford it. Don't worry." Barely was a word he left out. They lived separately, and he was an adult. She didn't have to worry about his finances.
She only squinted in response, but she finished clasping the necklace around her neck anyway. His hunch about gold had been correct, at least, and the ruby looked pretty, too. It was too bad that there wasn't really anywhere she could wear the necklace. It was impractical for work and she didn't often do much else, but she had openly admired such jewelry more than a few times before. At least she could wear it around the apartment. His memory flicked to Anton's debut, and the women therein, decorated in jewelry. He felt the spark of frustration, the anger about situations and birth far beyond his control. But that is what it was. Far beyond his control.
"Unless you want me to bring it back..." He joked, but she clutched the necklace possessively.
"No, it's beautiful. Thank you."
