Using a story prompt:
Their house was filled with oddities that seemed out of place for grandma and grandpa. Looking back now, it suddenly all made sense.
“I hate cleaning up old houses,” Kat said with a shudder. The youngest of our family, we weren't surprised. Anything “old” was anathema to Kat. Jenna and I just smiled. Jenna had always loved my grandparents, ever since we were dating, 20 years ago. They had accepted her as a member of the family immediately and made her feel wanted and included. Holding Jenna's hand, I said, “I've always liked it here. There's always somewhere to go and something weird to discover.”
Jenna nodded and we headed into Grandpa's study. My grandparents hadn't been hoarders, the house was neat and tidy with everything in its place. But they had bookshelves and cabinets full of curios that had fascinated me as a child.
“Your grandpa was a plumber, right?” Jenna asked. “Yes, why?”
“How did a plumber come across a set of samurai swords?” I laughed. “oh, my uncle sent those to him when he was in Japan. Pretty sure they're cheap tourist trinkets, plastic horn stand and so forth.” Jenna wasn't so sure. This was a theme for the rest of the day, really. Jenna would see something that she thought was more valuable than I expected, and at the end of the day I agreed to have a professional come evaluate some of our finds.
Kat needed no such help, however. She had gravitated to Grandma's walk-in closet and we heard delighted gasps and squeals from that direction all day long. Kat hated old stuff, but “retro” was a different matter entirely. Around lunchtime Jenna and I went to find her.
Jackson descended into the abandoned building, noise assaulting him like a physical force. He could feel the floor moving, the air was thick with dust unsettled, unable to settle on a floor that was heaving like the tortured breath of a beast in pain.
He found the staircase, itself exponentially louder than the first floor, and he headed down, then opened a door into pandemonium.
The basement was a riot of sound and color. There weren't that many people down there, only thirty or so, but all of them were in motion, their actions frenzied, crazed it seemed. Colored powders were being tossed around, momentarily bursting into blues or greens or reds or oranges, but eventually mixing into an ochre that coated everyone and everything equally.
Almost everyone. There, at the back of the hall, Jackson saw him. The red haired demon, his personal nemesis. He walked through the basement, ignoring the colors, the sights, the songs, the acts, the entire gamut of human activity acted out by only thirty actors.
The Imp sat on his throne, lanky, pale, dressed in loose black silk, his red hair so wild as to seem disassociated. And he just watched. He just watched as Jackson approached. A slight smile on his face until Jackson climbed up onto the dais. And then the Imp simply clapped his hands once and said “Internally now, animals.”
The transporter worked. Quantum state translation had been solved, the system was declared safe and functional. Inanimate objects, then quantum computers, then small animals, and finally humans had been sent through the transporter. All of these test subjects had come through the process with their identity intact.
Which brought up the controversial subject of the soul. Some claimed that the existence of an immaterial soul was fictitious anyway and if a being was translocated down to their quantum state they were the same being. Some said that any being who had been transported was now an automaton and was no longer fit to interact in human company.
As with any question of a metaphysical nature this proved itself to be insoluble by standard scientific process for quite some time, and was largely forgotten. Some few people refused to use the transporters, but it was no great loss as the machines were still expensive to build and few in number.
One day a quiet gentleman sought out the inventors of the system and asked a simple favor. “I would like to perform a test of my own, if that is acceptable.” He said. His face was peaceful, inviting, and seemed always to have a small smile.
“I simply ask to be transported from one room to another, under some specific conditions. It would please me to have cameras running at both sites during the test. I require no other equipment, and ask only fifteen minutes of your time. I am willing to pay for the privilege.”
For some reason, the next forty minutes would stick in Kaelyn's mind, though very little happened in that time. At least, from her perspective. It took her ten minutes or so to get back to where Kent and Rowan were still seated under a tree, relatively dry compared to Kaelyn by the time she got back.
Kent was awake and sitting up, groggily and wearily, but seated. He looked up at Kaelyn's approaching footsteps.
“Ava? Wren?” he asked, no verbs required nor given.
“Both fine. Master Colm, Mrs. Marion, and Miss Daisy are all there, taking care of them. Hazel is safe in the house as well.”
Kaelyn almost instantly regretted bringing Hazel back with her.
“What if Rowan and Papa are in trouble? Oh, but what if Mama is going faster, with just Miss Daisy there? But Miss Daisy was there, shouldn't you stay with Papa? But...no, you said you can care for Mama and Papa is okay...” Hazel's never ending monologue had taken on a repetitive quality, a litany of fear that Kaelyn found hard to cope with. Worse, nothing Kaelyn said was of much use to either assuage or stem Hazel's fear, and it only added to Kaelyn's own fear to try.
And then they got to the house. As Kaelyn and Hazel entered the small clearing around the Chastain home They heard a low, anguished scream from inside.
Eventually Kaelyn chose a fabric, a dark blue and white checked design that looked like it would stand up to her work fairly well. She had taken long enough that Rowan was starting to show signs of nervousness as Kaelyn counted out the coins to pay for a few yards of fabric and tucked them into her satchel.
“Now then, shall we go see how your mother is doing?” She said, and started walking up the path out of town.
They were just passing the last houses of North Strand when They spotted Kent Chastain running down the path towards them.
“Rowan! There you are, lad, and you found the healer, excellent. What took you so long?” Ken said, sweating and breathing hard.
“Has the situation gotten more serious?” Kaelyn asked and Rowan's face went entirely still.
“Didn't you tell her?” Kent said, turning and heading back towards his house. “Miss Kaelyn, Ava's waters broke not long after you left, she's been laboring hard and feels that Wren is in distress, we must make haste!”
“Yes, indeed we must,” Kaelyn agreed, and broke into a gentle jog to match Kent's harried pace. He nodded and the three of them ran back towards Riverside. The path was at a steady uphill climb the entire way, of course, and soon even Kent wearied of running. So they walked as fast as they could, all sweating and thankful for the breeze whipping around them.
Clouds were racing in now, from over the sea, and they were just passing through a small copse of aspens when Rowan cried out “Miss Kaelyn!”
Kaelyn had been ahead of the Chastain men, going through her satchel and mentally preparing for a delivery. She turned to see what had distressed rowan and gasped.
Kaelyn entered the shop, a small bell ringing. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. As much as she enjoyed visiting the Chastains and the others in her care, she also enjoyed some time of her own. After all, she was a 14 year old girl, not a Master Healer, and people couldn't expect her to be a healer always, just a healer first. She had done her duty, she had tended to her families first, now it was time to be Kaelyn.
[the shop owner's wife] greeted Kaelyn and smiled. “welcome Miss! What can I do for you today?”
Kaelyn smiled and said “I heard you have a new shipment of fabrics in, and I would like to look at them, please.”
“Of course! Are you shopping for Marion?”
“No, this is for me,” Kaelyn said, bristling a little. “I've been saving up, and I want to make myself a dress.”
Quinn and Lucas were a young couple also living in Riverside, where both of them caught fish out of the river to sell. They lived in a small house that they had built together, and which they were now expanding to fit their family.
Quinn was in her late twenties, her husband Lucas in his early twenties. Nobody would have expected them to fall in love, had it not happened. Quinn was larger than life, loud, happy, boisterous with bright red hair and a smile for everyone. For ten years before her wedding she had been a wagoner, shipping goods up and down the road to Strand, even heading east along the King's Way to other communities. She always came back with stories as well as goods; tales of her deeds and mishaps on the road. Lucas had been a shepherd: quiet, methodical, gentle, kind, and able to thrive in silence. He was well regarded but rarely inserted himself into conversations. The two met one evening when Lucas had been walking back to Riverside from Strand and Quinn had offered him a ride on her wagon.
“A Healer First,” Kaelyn and Daisy echoed, in unison, as they did every morning, in response to Master Colm's ritual question, “What are you?” Colm nodded and smiled kindly. “Have a good day out there, ladies.”
Kaelyn and Daisy walked out of the cottage together, each with their satchel full, heading the same direction at first. “ What do yo have today?” Kaelyn asked, satisfied that she hadn't forgotten anything too important when packing her satchel this morning.
Kids, I need to talk to you both. I want you to know that I'm not mad and that nobody is in trouble, but we need to ensure that we all understand our family rules.
Your mother and I got home this morning and found the kitchen messier than we left it, and the two of you were “asleep”, or at least, in bed.
Now, we were young once too, and we know how things can happen. I'm going to give you two a moment to let either of you come forward and explain what happened.
No?
Rowan, nothing to say?
Hazel? Anything?
Very well. Let me see if I can create the sequence of events.