Saturday, August 12, 2017. Daily Brit Wit.
Plural noun, British trademark
Men’s or boys’ underpants with a branching seam at the front in the shape of an upside-down Y.
*Part 3/9 in A Warrior’s Child series. Yesterday’s found here: Cess.
“He grumbles once he’s turned back around to find (or more aptly not finding because the kid’s constantly running about) his son missing. His words sound a lot like this child and death of someone as Ajaxson fists the clothes in his left hand and stomps out of the bedroom.
He’s in no mood to entertain his son’s behaviour and so immediately opens up his magic to feel for the boy. He thought Loxley’s giggling would be a useful second guide; but surprisingly his child does not want to be found so quickly. Mildly and in the back of his mind, he’s impressed: his boy is learning.
His magic points Ajaxson right down the hallway, take the stairs, wind around the maze that’s the downstairs entryway being remodelled, and toward the kitchen. But his child must have heard him clomping around because the magic urges him to go beyond the kitchen and outside with a sharp, insistent tug at his navel. Ajaxson has to fight off his smirk of approval to be displeased father.
‘Loxley!’ He bellows upon opening the side door to the backyard.
Now he hears his son’s tittering giggles, high-pitched and vibrant energy, which rejuvenates Ajaxson’s magical core. He doesn’t eye the lad at first, but knows without magical aid his runaway is lurking.
Then a devious plan forms. Since he’d stepped outside without closing the door, Ajaxson exhales a world wary sigh over-dramatically to be certain Loxley hears it and he closes the door. He cloaks himself in magic to turn momentarily invisible.
Loxley pokes his head out from behind the rose bushes, platinum locks appear first before a wide forehead that eventually reveals those bright, piercing electric eyes full of excitement, amusement, and victory. Ajaxson’s creeping along and is close enough to see one of the missing front teeth from his son’s brilliant smile. His own answering grin mirrors the child’s when Loxley continues to stay put. Though they’re just games to his son now, Ajaxson truly doesn’t mind indulging and organising them because they are teaching moments to prepare Loxley for the realities of living in times of war as well as growing up as the son (heir apparent) of a Warlock. Loxley doesn’t move, his determined gaze focussed mainly on the door he believes his father to have disappeared through; then Ajaxson notes with a swell of pride the lad sweeps around the whole area.
When he picks up on the tell-tale shoulder twitches that gives away Loxley’s early signs of fleeing, Ajaxson decides he’s given the boy enough of a false-victory. Moments before Loxley can dart off, Ajaxson sneaks up behind the little vampire and releases his magic.
‘Found ya,’ he chuckles directly behind Loxley.
His child screeches, jumps a good two feet in the air, and falls backward into his father’s arms without meaning to do so. Ajaxson chortles happily and spins around the half-naked child in his arms.
‘You scared me!’ Loxley breathes out heavily, smile growing on pale lips.
‘Now you know how I feel whenever you run away from me,’ he answers in a mild tone.
The lad pouts. ‘What gave me away, Papa?’ He asks once they’ve crossed the threshold back inside the kitchen.
Ajaxson chuckles and sets Loxley on his feet. ‘Oh, the fact you did a runner in your yellow y-fronts.’
Loxley giggles hysterically and glances over a naked shoulder to give the full force of his energy straight at his father. ‘Be serious!’
‘I am!’ Ajaxson gasps in playful indignation.
‘Oh, all right,’ he sighs through a smile. ‘You were roiling your magic at me.’
His son groans. ‘Nooo!’
‘Afraid so,’ he hums.
‘But I can hide it from Auntie Brighton!’ He points out petulantly.
‘Only because Auntie’s not me.’
The five-year-old jumps in place, a stroppy stomp. ‘That’s not fair!’ He wails, head thrown back and putting too much weight on his spine. ‘If I can only hide from Auntie, I’m doomed!’
Ajaxson rolls his eyes but places a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Loxley pauses instantaneously and turns around. They have a silent conversation as father dresses son. Once he’s certain the child has settled, Ajaxson speaks again.
‘You’re doing so well, my child.’ He praises quietly, smoothing out the tee-shirt. ‘You will have an advantage over many creatures as you grow. None of them will compare to you being a vampire and heir to a warlock.’
‘But I’m not a warlock, Papa.’
‘I know, Lox.’ He soothes and cups a downtrodden cheek. ‘Does being a vampire or warlock or witch or gremlin or faery define a person?’
Hesitantly, Loxley shakes his head. ‘No?’
‘You’re correct. Just because our world is bickering over heritages and such lark, it won’t always be: I predict you’re not the only child raised by a different creature parent.’
‘You’re raised in love, my child, that’s what is important. I would not have minded if you were a human baby I found. In fact, for a moment there, I thought you were human.’
Loxley’s eyes widen and mouth pops open with a small, wet smack. ‘Really?!’
‘Yes,’ he laughs. ‘It did not matter who or what you were, Lox; you were mine the second I met you.’
‘But I still can’t hide from you.’
‘I don’t expect you to…not yet,’ the warlock amends. ‘We’ll hone your strengths as a vampire; I’ll also continue to teach you the techniques my father taught me. You’re mine, son, never forget that: and because you are, you have all the access and inheritances of several generations before you. As much as families dislike owning up to mixed races,’ Ajaxson huffs out in annoyance and Loxley giggles, ‘it does happen, by birth or adoption, and you’ll have benefits not available to me.’
Loxley turns over the information for several moments. ‘So even though I’m not really a half-breed–‘ his father growls at the term. ‘Okay, since I’m full-vampire, won’t it make learning Warlock magic harder?’
‘No.’ Ajaxson answers firmly. ‘You may have been born a vampire, but the second I held you, Lox, my magic recognised you as mine and you do have Warlock in you.’
Loxley clearly doesn’t follow. Ajaxson isn’t entirely surprised based on his young age.
‘Never forget you’re my child, okay?’ He settles on the most important aspect of their conversation.
‘Okay!’ He beams and hugs his father’s neck. Then jumps back, a minor glide through air he doesn’t even notice anymore it’s so second-nature. ‘Thanks for not forcing me to bathe this morning.’
Ajaxson deep-belly laughs. ‘Oh, trust me, son mine, you are bathing today.’
Loxley squawks, edging away steadily. ‘But…but I don’t like water!’
‘That’s not a creature issue, that’s a Loxley issue and you’re going to have to overcome it.’
‘Well it’s a real problem!’ His son crows, still walking backwards. ‘I don’t like garlic, either.’
‘That’s a stereotype.’
‘Don’t listen to Auntie, yeah?’ He shakes his head. ‘She likes to irritate Papa.’
‘But garlic bread gives me bad breath and keeps me up all night.’
‘No, Auntie’s naughty stories and all her cupcakes keep you awake all night.’
‘That too!’ Loxley giggles. ‘Can you teach me how to be invisible again?!’
‘It’s not going to happen right away, you understand?’
The vampire lad scoffs. ‘I know!’
Ajaxson raises a chastising eyebrow.
His son deflates. Then perks up. ‘Well…,’ he grins, ornery and devious. ‘I’ll just do the next best thing: run!’
And he zaps out of the kitchen the same second Ajaxson blinks. He’s gone. The father groans, rubbing his head to ward off the returning headache, yet still manages a fond, incensed smile.
‘Should have never explained the perks of endurance and speed of a vampire,’ he grumbles and gives chase by magically popping up around the country manor home.
‘Not fair, you cheat!’ Loxley yells out, indignant.”