Chapter 4: Meetings and Introductions

  Eventually they all jolted just a bit. The two men stood.

  Bix watched them leave the odd structure, easily descending. Cirillo turned back and offered a hand to her.

  "Croia, this way," he prompted. Bix glanced at the exit then around for any openings.

  She didn't see a way out. Not with deadly purple smoke and confusing motives.

  Bix started forward and quick-turn-stepped so she could exit without touching either man.

  She caught sight of another man coming around the front of the odd contraption almost breathing something out of it.

  Bix shifted back more. Her gaze whipped all around at the structures that were as hulking and daunting as she imagined the cities to be. They headed toward an arch that solidified the comparison in her mind.

  She slowed hoping, maybe she could just.

  "Croia," Cirillo called, turning back. She froze and stared at the arches.

  "I'm from Detritus." She stated it plainly despite knowing it wouldn't have any meaning to them.

  Bix covered her mouth when Detritus managed to translate itself into something else. It took a few more times of repeating it for it to come out correctly to her own ears.

  To once again become her words.

  Bix threw up her arms, defensively, as Cirillo came barreling into her space. He didn't attack her, but he did once again lift her up unceremoniously. This time, though, he held her as if she was one of the young ones rather than well into her fifteenth year.

  She hissed out a breath, but he walked swiftly inside and she was barely able to take in her new surroundings before a loud voice shouted.

  "Orack!"

  A girl a few years older than Bix came running at them, her face pinching in confusion, looking at Bix for only a moment as Cirillo released her before barreling into his arms.

  "You're home," The girl offered brightly. Cirillo lifted and twirled her. “How was it? Did you have to fight?”

  Bix took their absorbed conversation as an opportunity to scurry back a bit, holding her pack close. She glanced as Deverie stepped to her other side along with the one who did the strange breathing, placing down the various things being brought in. Large chests. Various tightly tied bags. Deverie glanced over in her direction and then past her at the scene. He looked as if the enthusiastic scene was normal.

  "Uttara," Cirillo breathed, and as if called by the girl's feet touching the floor, three boys appeared. One she'd place at being around her age, and two young ones who would still be held close to the rearing pods but allowed to start sorting with guidance.

  "Nalo, Garbhan, Lorcan," Cirillo listed each of their names as he embraced each of them. Each one received a different type of embrace, almost curated to each. Each chittered and chattered to the man Cirillo in an equally enthusiastic scene.

  Then he whipped around and turned on her motioning forward as is she was apart of some grand reveal. Grinning in a way that had her shifting behind Deverie so that she wasn’t closer to Cirillo or the strange breather.

  "Meet your new sister, Croia,” He introduced her.

  Sister? She knew the term sister and brother. It was how they referred to those raised with them in their rearing pod.

  Bix, though, was years out of the rearing pods and most of her “sisters” and “brothers” hadn't been lucky enough to reach the age of independent living.

  The four looked at her only a little surprised but didn't look fazed that Cirillo brought someone of an independent age claiming them to be a child's term.

  "What did I just hear, Cirillo?" a woman's voice called.

  The woman who walked in wore an outfit that was not the same but invoked the same aura as the patrol, she was obviously heavily armed though her threat level was reduced seeing as her fingers were tangled with a man who was dressed much the same but only had one… maybe weapon.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Bix stood as straight as she could muster and sent her gaze promptly to the ground and listed off the mantra of respect that came out sounding jumbled and strange to her own ears. Her words not wanting to be her own but whatever was changing them not doing it well enough.

  Bix was so dizzied by the swirl of her own jarring words that she didn’t notice the woman get closer, and she almost flinched as her hand went to Bix’s face.

  Bix expected a blow. It was what she would deserve for letting her guard down. Instead Bix’s head was lifted and the woman looked over Bix’s face.

  "Your hair is purple," She voiced softly.

  Bix touched her own hair, then looked around the room, her mind comprehending for the first time that there was purple everywhere.

  Cirillo had his deep purple eyes and purple smoke under his control. This woman had purple hair, though it was lighter and brighter than Bix’s, falling in cascading smooth waves with eyes that matched in color.

  The older boy, Nalo, had a similar shade of purple to his hair, yet it curled in wild loops like Bix's would if it weren't trapped in swirling ties. His eyes, though were the same strange blue that the sky outside had been.

  The man that stood, his hand intertwined with the woman's, had even paler purple hair with slightly darker purple eyes. The two young boys, Garbhan and Lorcan, and the girl, Uttara, all shared the same color hair as him but their eyes varied between the woman’s and the man's.

  Bix’s head swirled, taking in all the shades of a hair color that had been an oddity where she was born.

  Suddenly, she felt immensely uncomfortable.

  The woman, though, smiled at her, then cut a glare to Cirillo.

  "Cirillo," The woman breath her tone so even that it cut through everything without needing to raise her voice. The command in it sent a shiver down Bix's spine.

  "Iphigenia," Cirillo breathed, shifting looking her over as if he sensed danger.

  "What have we said about making decisions for the family without discussing it with the rest of us?" Iphigenia asked.

  "This-" Cirillo started.

  "And really, this child looks terrified. Did you even bother to ask her if she wanted to come here? Let alone become your daughter?" Iphigenia asked. Cirillo jutted out his chin. Iphigenia looked him over, sighed, and set her pointed gaze on Deverie.

  "I tried to tell him, Madam," He offered, lifting his hands with a shrug. Iphigenia let out a sigh.

  "What is your name?" The other man asked, smiling at Bix.

  Bix wanted to disappear into the walls as all eyes turned on her. Cirillo opened his mouth, but Bix answered before he could.

  "Bix."

  Iphigenia looked her over again.

  "Bix. I am so sorry for the scare. Cirillo means well. He really does. He sees someone who he thinks will fit, and he gets overexcited," She assured.

  "Let's start with introductions. I am Iphigenia Hendrix, Cirillo's wife. This is our other husband, Lodovico, and our children: Uttara Nalo, Garbhan and Lorcan," She introduced. "And obviously you have met Deverie and Cirillo," She offered.

  Bix nodded.

  "Am I allowed to leave?" Bix asked, the most pertinent question in her mind. The woman's eyes shot to the ceiling and then through Cirillo, who looked at Bix and shifted back. His eyes dropped to the floor.

  "Of course you can, dear. First, though, why don't we discuss the reasons my husband thought you might need us in my office, and then, if you feel, you could have a meal with us." Iphigenia offered, motioning forward.

  It was stated as a request.

  Bix was pretty sure it was intended as a request.

  Looking, though, at the woman dressed like one of the patrol made it feel as though she couldn't refuse. So, Bix bobbed her head and went where the woman indicated.

  They walked through various passages until they entered a room full of books, though they didn't smell like the books she knew. It wasn't a bad smell, though.

  Bix was motioned to a brown curling seat with a fabric top. She sat where she was directed.

  Iphigenia rounded the short worktable. She went to a cabinet and pulled out a large glass bottle and two rounded glass cups. She poured both and pushed one across. Iphigenia took a seat.

  Bix stared at the glass.

  “It’s only water.” Iphigenia insisted as if that was a reassurance Bix could trust.

  She looked over Bix, for the maybe hundredth time, and her lips pulled into a smile.

  "Now, Bix. What happened today?" She asked.

  In just a moment, so much ran through Bix's mind that it threatened to overwhelm her. Bit by bit, she pulled her care away from the events. So, she could thing things through.

  Bix came to the conclusion that why should she tell more than absolutely necessary to this woman dressed as a patrol?

  "I believe I fell through a Faerie Portal and can't get back." Bix stated, offering no other details even when the woman left room for her to add them. Iphigenia's eyes softened.

  "Oh," she breathed, nodding her chin finding a place on her hand, while her elbow sat on the table. "I am sorry," she added. "My husband's desire to have you join our family is genuine. He jumps the gun so very often, but he does mean what he says. He does care," She informed Bix, hissing out a breath with twinkling mirth.

  Bix nodded stiffly, not seeing a reason to argue. The woman nodded as well.

  "I understand and feel how difficult this must be for you. Seeing as you cannot get back to where you are from and you will have to learn to live in this world, what do you plan to do?,” She asked tone soft but pointed.

  Bix jutted out her chin and bobbed her shoulders.

  "I manage," She informed.

  That was one thing, there wasn't a day in this world that was guaranteed. Yet Bix was still alive. That was something.

  As long as Bix could find two things to tinker with, she could build things. She might not know what they would do until they were done, but she'd continue to build and continue to gain more and more, bit by bit.

  The woman smiled at Bix as if seeing something in her.

  "I believe you will," She agreed. "My suggestion is that you stay with us until you are settled," Iphigenia offered. Bix frowned, glaring at her.

  "You said I could leave," Bix reminded her. The woman blinked.

  "You can-"

  "Then no," Bix offered, and the woman looked utterly baffled by her denial.

  Bix shrugged; her confusion wasn't Bix's problem. Bix picked up her pack and glared at the little hole starting to form in it.

  “I’ll be going. No need for a meal, thank you.” Bix offered, as an afterthought and headed out the door.