happy pi day!! this is some art for this year’s pi(e) day fundraiser by the philly pies -- the coloring pages are available to everyone but for full color art colored by the original artists check out our fundraiser at https://gofund.me/df04e219! it’s supporting a really great cause and you can win cool prizes if you donate before 11pm eastern today (pi day 2023).
[the birth of a star - a short fic to spread my coin and namerifeht divorce arc manifesto]
[content warnings for burns and (accidental) child harm]
Namerifeht had promised Aequitas that this was perfectly safe; all tales of the "Clay Boy," as they called it, were simply tales. Yes, there might be disastrous consequences, just like with anything you do, but many babies had been forged from clay and fire and led perfectly normal lives.
In the end, Aequitas let herself be persuaded. It was odd, for the roles to be reversed; usually, Aequitas had to convince Namerifeht to do something with an unknown outcome. But Namerifeht wouldn't suggest it if they weren't certain they'd be in no danger. So, they formed a human figure from clay (Aequitas thought it looked more like a ragdoll, but Namerifeht assured her it would work just fine), and gave it a drop of their golden ichor, and set it in Namerifeht's forge. As it was being placed in the flames, Aequitas's chest grew tight with the feeling that this would end badly, as it did in the folktales.
But once Namerifeht reached into the flames at the baby's first shrill cry and pulled out a little boy, Aequitas's fears melted. It was an ugly and wrinkly little thing, as most newborns were, but Namerifeht and Aequitas thought he was perfect, because he was theirs.
They spent a lot of time in those first few days holding him and marveling at their success. Even though they had a crib and high chair and all the other things you were supposed to buy for babies, they rarely set him down. He would go from one parent's arms to another, sucking his thumb and babbling incoherently. Namerifeht liked to have a one-sided conversation whenever he did that, responding to his gibberish with things "he said that?" and "I can't believe it!" Aequitas thought it was ridiculous, but it was cute how their kid got more and more excited with every response. On the day Namerifeht had to go back to work, because the world cannot go on without the Forge, the baby cried nonstop. Nothing Aequitas did would soothe him. She spent the day holding him to her bosom, wiping his tears and promising that his father would return, and both of them would do anything to protect him.
It took several weeks to find a name for him. The last name came easily; MacMillan, a Scottish name sometimes associated with holiness (usually in the form of monks, but that didn't matter. It had a nice ring to it). The first name they couldn't decide on. Aequitas favored Augustus, but Namerifeht shot it down. Namerifeht suggested Cyrus, but Aequitas felt a name that literally meant "sun" was too on the nose. In the end, they decided on a completely different name than either of their favorites: Parker. The name itself wasn't terribly popular, and had gotten less and less so by 1964, but neither were either of their suggestions. It's hard for eternal beings to stay with the times.
Turns out, it's also hard for eternal beings to raise a mortal. It was unbelievable to Aequitas just how breakable they were. She had bruised him several times just picking him up or burping him, and Namerifeht had accidentally burned him when picking him up after spending hours at the forge. They became scared to touch him after a while. What if they broke a bone, or worse? But no matter what, Parker reached his arms out and squealed whenever one of them passed by. Quickly, they learned how to scoop him up without hurting him, and how to carefully hug him tight, and how to play gently. And it seemed just as they had mastered that, Parker learned to walk and ran head-first into harm's way any chance he got.
After one particularly nasty incident, they began wondering if they were in over their head. Aequitas often took Parker to visit Namerifeht at work. Namerifeht did the same, but Aequitas's job was much less exciting for him. Parker loved the Forge. He would play with the soot sprites and gaze into the flames for hours, if allowed. Namerifeht was glad to have a break in the day, and would drop whatever they were doing to greet Parker (and Aequitas, of course). They'd scoop him up and show him everything they had been working on, then Parker would wiggle out of their arms and run off to terrorize soot sprites or build a tower out of kindling wood.
"We need to watch him," Namerifeht said, turning back to their anvil. "Plenty of ways to hurt himself around here."
Aequitas knew that they meant that she needed to watch him, but stayed anyway. "He'll be fine for just a second. I wanted to talk to you about--"
Parker let out the most pain-ridden scream either of them had heard in a long, long time. Namerifeht was faster than her, racing through rows of furnaces and grabbing him away from the brick opening of a kiln. When Aequitas caught up, she pretended not to notice Namerifeht's glare and wiped Parker's tears. His fingers were burnt badly, and, although the skin was already repairing itself, it needed attention.
"I'll take him to the doctor," Aequitas said, reaching for him.
Namerifeht didn't hand him over, but didn't turn away. "I'll go with you. One afternoon away from the Forge will be fine."
Aequitas pursed her lips in a thin line, but didn't argue. It wasn't the time for an argument, and it wasn't wise to rile Namerifeht with fire surrounding them.
"I should have known better," she said.
"You should have," Namerifeht agreed, "But we all have lapses in judgment, I suppose."
In the end, Parker was fine. His fingers were mostly healed by the time they got to the hospital. The doctor made an off-handed comment that humans don't heal that fast, as if that was a fact they would already know. It surprised Aequitas and Namerifeht. Surely their child was human. At least, they had meant him to be. What was he, if not a mortal? Neither asked the doctor any of these questions, just raised an eyebrow at each other, in a mutual agreement to discuss it later. Parker went home with a sucker and burn cream, and was fine within a few days.
Aequitas couldn't sleep that night. In the early morning, before the sun had risen, she slid out of bed and crept down the hall to Parker's room. From the doorway, she could tell he was still fast asleep, squeezing his favorite teddy bear in his little arms. It was enough to reassure her that he was safe, at least at this moment, and the guilt eating her alive could wait until the morning. As she was shutting the door and turning away, she caught a faint glow around him, just for a split second. She tried searching for it again, even shutting the door and re-opening it, but it was gone. With no other explanation, she decided she was tired and imagining things and went to bed.
The other times she saw it, much later in his life, she couldn't use the same excuse.
