Shimmer woke up to find a package wrapped in rough fabric on his nightstand. Next to it were two wooden cards and a bouquet of wildflowers that had been so roughly plucked that it could only have been picked by a child. One of the cards had roughly doodled pictures of a present, shirt and pants, a bag, as well as doodles from the children. The other card had actual words written on it.

  “I don’t know if you are literate, so I thought it was best to convey my intention with both pictures and words. Everything in the fabric bag is yours to keep. There are two changes of clothes, a small allowance, and a bag filled with necessities. I didn’t know what style you liked, so I got what the clerk said a teenage boy would like.

  I know you must be uncomfortable. Actually, I didn’t know. Rowboat told me. I am not very good with emotions, you see. Everyone is happy that you’re here with us, and nobody is expecting you to instantly adapt. Don’t be afraid to come to me or Rowboat if you need anything.

  All the best,

  Norman.”

  Shimmer, who had been taught to read as part of his servant education, felt strange reading the kind words on the little wooden plaque. Weren’t these people too kind? He felt like he was taking advantage of their kindness by just being here. He had never experienced unconditional kindness before, and he felt like he needed to work to pay back the kindness debt. As he thought about how to do that, he opened the present and laid the contents out on the table.

  There were two sets of male clothing, one with a brown shirt and one with a blue shirt. Shimmer couldn’t help but be excited at the thought of dressing like all the other boys his age. Then he felt bad for being excited; he didn’t deserve to be excited when he was leeching off of these people.

  The bag was a plain leather one, the kind you sling over your shoulder. Inside, it contained a bar of soap, a small utility dagger, a water canteen, a lunch box, basic ribbons, and a hairbrush. There was also a small money pouch with his allowance of 10 Lapis. There was no makeup, no rings or bracelets, and there weren’t any perfumes or powders. Just normal things a normal teenage boy would need. That was… nice.

  “COME ON YOU LITTLE CRITTERS! I MADE BREAKFAST!” The booming voice of Rowboat brought him out of his own head. The sound was followed by the scampering of little feet running down the stairs and the immediate scolding for running down said stairs.

  Shimmer put on one of the sets of clothing and put his hair up with one of the ribbons before walking downstairs. He felt like he was intruding when everyone’s head turned towards him as soon as he entered the dining room. He was waiting to be told that this was a family event and that he wasn’t welcome. That didn’t happen, though.

  “There you are! That looks good on you! Come! I set your plate next to mine, we’re having porridge with apples!” Rowboat flashed him an inviting smile as she sat down at the dining table and patted the spot next to her.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “I wanted him to sit next to me!” Pail whined with a mouth full of porridge. He hadn’t gotten over his habit of hoarding his food and was shielding his bowl from anyone who would even look at it.

  “You’re getting your hair in your food.” Norman sighed as he put up Pail’s hair in a ponytail like the one Shimmer was wearing. Pail paid no mind to his hair being messed with as he shoveled food in his mouth with impressive speed. “Also, good morning, Shimmer. I’m glad you’re using the things we got you. Could you read it?”

  Shimmer nodded as he scooted next to Rowboat. “I can read. It was part of my education.” He nibbled on one of the apple slices in his porridge. Apples were his favorite. “Thank you. For the gifts. And for… getting me boy stuff.” He said the last part a bit quieter than the rest.

  Norman looked confused. Well, he looked the same as always, but he did tilt his head to show his confusion. “Why wouldn’t I get you boy things? You’re a boy, aren’t you?” Norman wasn’t very good at the whole gender role thing, but he did know that such things were very important to most people. His children seemed to be the exception, though.

  Rowboat shot him a look that told him it was something he wasn’t emotionally mature enough to understand. Having another adult around was really convenient, especially one who had lived a complicated life and understood the complexities of hybrid life. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. Eat your food before it gets cold.” Norman added hastily.

  Shimmer ate his food in silence, listening to the chatter at the table. He didn’t know these people well enough to contribute, but listening was nice. It was nice, but it made him jealous. He was jealous of these children who got to grow up normally. He had no idea what they had gone through, so he just assumed that they didn’t have any struggles at all. It made him feel awful. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice the additional apple slices in his porridge.

  “Foo yoo!” Primrose smiled over her suspiciously apple-ess plate. Her actions weren’t as selfless as they seemed; she simply didn’t like apples and wanted to pawn them off on someone else, but Shimmer saw it as another kindness debt he had to pay off.

  “Thank you.”

  When Shimmer was offered to help with work, he gladly accepted. If he worked, then he wouldn’t feel as bad about everyone’s kindness. His job was strange, but simple. He had to carefully remove the outer skin of roots he had never seen before. It seemed easy, but if he messed it up, the root would be unusable. Thankfully, though, Shimmer had long since learned how to keep his hands steady and his mind focused.

  He felt peaceful as he worked. After he got the hang of the process, it was easy for him to empty his mind as his hands worked independently. His hands had been painted with henna to resemble a bride, and the more he worked, the blurrier the lines got. The intricate patterns of flowers and prosperity charms were lost to the red pigments from the roots. Shimmer had a habit of leaning over when he concentrated. Whenever he leaned over, his long white hair would fall into the basket of peeled roots, dying his pristine hair red at the ends.

  The contrast of red against white made him look like a sacrificial lamb or a slaughtered animal in the snow. He was neither. Not anymore, at least. He was just a regular teenage boy working for his allowance. It was one of the first times in his life when he had felt like everyone else. It made him a bit more confident to have a skill he was good at that didn’t involve pleasing the upper class. He was good at making dyes.

  He quickly prepared the roots without harming them, controlled the fire with expert timing, crushed the dried roots into a really fine powder, and was great at eyeballing the correct ratio of activator. He couldn’t help but beam at the compliments he got when his first compact of pigment powder came out more vibrant and of higher quality than any of the test runs. Shimmer held the little wooden compact in his hands, admiring the smooth wood and the perfectly pressed pigment inside. The thing he admired the most, though, was the stamp on the top of the lid.