Daddy Issues by Kai Toh

Autumn, 1980.

After leaving Ahanu and Lleyton, Raith did not go directly home but rather visited an elder of a tribe who was an expert in things mythological. He wanted to find out about the giant red bear that killed his father a dozen years earlier.

“Thank you Elder for giving me your time today.” Raith said. “I have been told you are the authority on the history and traditions of this local region and much of Northern Ontario. I have come to ask about a creature that is not particularly well-known among local, Indigenous stories, that of a giant, red bear.”

“It is my pleasure,” said the elder. “Such a creature has many names depending on the tribe such as BaerMorte, Crimson Death, and Fyerbaer. I’ve heard some argue it is an appendage of mother nature. Governments will let you hunt animals if they think there are too many of them. Sometimes there are too many of a certain species and things are out of balanced, like wild boars or animals from a far away area that mistakenly ends up here. Likely such new creatures will simply die but once in a while, one will thrive and the creatures that were there for centuries suffer. They say BaerMorte may be nature’s free hunting season, culling the overpopulated.”

“That’s interesting, but what if the top predator is the one that is the most populated. Will this creature kill and eat other bears?

“There have been no stories about that which I know of, but it might be possible. Of course. It would be just one of nature’s tools. If there is a rabbit or rat infestation, one mythical bear cannot find them all. It only consumes large game. It might eat a creature over 100 pounds, but I would think if the creature was too small, it might not be worth the effort to chase it down.”

“If it exists, given that it might be working for the nature spirit, should we even try to stop it, if we could?” asked Raith.

“It has been known to feed on farm animals,” explained the Elder. “It is a creature of stealth despite its great size. A cow will disappear and never be seen again, and there might be tracks, but that’s about it. Bones, flesh, and carcasses are never found. Sometimes there will be red fur. BaerMorte may sleep for years and attack for months and then missing large animals cease to disappear. It is hard to tell really, because it will hunt moose, deer, elk, and bears, and it is trying not to be seen, so it is hard to confirm. However, sleeping for years and hunting for months is the consistent pattern throughout many tribes’ stories. Unless it’s behaviour changes, for indigenous folks, it is best to simply stay out of its way and not get killed by it. At this point, it is not doing something so obviously immoral that it must be stopped.”

“Aboriginals go missing in different numbers in different communities. Do you think it is somehow involved?”

“It depends on the area. It doesn’t want to be seen so it avoids populated areas which means it is more native to northern Ontario. Aboriginals might run away. The women might be victims of some people who wish to take advantage of their vulnerabilities. If you believe in it, it might be responsible for a few missing men and women. It doesn’t want to be noticed, so if it knows you’ve seen it and you are human rather than an animal who cannot really communicate that fact, then it will likely hunt you down and kill you,” the elder explained.

“If it doesn’t want to be seen, how do we even know about it?”

“Assuming it actually exists, men, women, and children have seen it, and it did not know it was seen. Maybe it hunted those who saw it, and they miraculously survived. There are stories of animals that have seen it and reported it to men, but one has to believe that humans and animals can communicate in such a way to begin with.”

“Do you think it exists?”

“Yes, there are enough stories and sightings throughout the years that are quite consistent to make me think something exists, though perhaps reports have been exaggerated.”

“Can you describe what has been reported?” asked Raith.

“Right, fifteen feet tall, mixed features of different bears, so we can’t tell which it belongs too, but it is likely a unique species of its own,” said the Elder. “Super sharp claws, paws, teeth. Powerful, fast, a killer first as prey will die in seconds usually from an unexpected attack. Its fur closely matches that of fire, deep red on the face and torso fading to orange near the limbs. If it doesn’t kill you, it can have its ample hair stand on end. Creatures will freeze when seeing this, out of fear or perhaps admiration. Hesitancy is not good when your enemy can kill you so quickly. You cannot really escape it. It is fast, agile, incredibly strong and can climb and swim.”

“I guess there is not much known about its defenses if one wanted to harm it.”

“One person reported it fighting another bear and it was struck with powerful strikes at least five times and still it was unfazed. Others speculated a shotgun or a rifle will likely not kill it, and any handgun would also fail. Of course, this is all just conjecture.”

“Any reported secret vulnerable locations on the body?” Raith thought aloud. Half jokingly.

“None that I have heard of.”

“What’s this legend of forest fires being associated with the creature?”

“Right, generations ago, an aboriginal elder speculated on the idea that BaerMorte causes wildfires and than somehow became part of the legend. The theory is that when angered he will truly be on fire. When running around in that state, the surrounding woods might become alight. There is no evidence though. Now the claim is not that he is the source of all wildfires just the ones he happens to cause. Those others are caused by normal means.”

“It cannot transform into anything, can it?” the Raith asked.

“No, I haven’t heard anything about that. Why interest in this creature?” the other asked.  “There are so many legends, others more well known, more that are similar across different tribes.”

“A lot of them are so crazy and fantastical that it would be almost impossible to exist today undetected. Also, I don’t trust the white man, but the science of biology makes sense even if it doesn’t consider all the anecdotal evidence that we’ve experienced with forest creatures for centuries. A big red bear is more plausible than others.”

“I see, quite true. Yes, it’s possibility is likely greater.”

          The two went on to discuss the impact myths and legends have on indigenous society.

& & &

          Summer, 1968.

“Is there any chance he is alive?” Raith’s mom asked.

          “I looked and looked for days and brought others, and we looked again. Rhythern is very capable of surviving in the woods. The elements will not kill him. If he is alive, we would have heard from him. The fact that we haven’t means the bear probably devoured him, maybe taking his body, or perhaps he died, and we cannot find the body, but that is unlikely. Our search was quite thorough.”

          “It does sound like it is not worthwhile to look ourselves,” she said.

          “I can take you there, but it is a great distance and very remote, and over a dozen of the best people of my tribe could not find him. Also, weeks have passed, and the elements have changed the area which makes any future search even more difficult. I cannot unfortunately see a scenario where he is alive.”

          “Thank you for coming all this way to tell us,” Raith said.

          “It is the very least we could do. I am so sorry for your loss. I wish there was a way we could help. Your husband was a well-respected and admired man, and it is such a shame we lost him so early in life.”

& & &

A month later.

“Raith,” his mom greeted in their home high amongst the trees. “I am just going to come right out and say it. I am going to live with my sister. I will miss you. As you know, it is a great distance from here. Perhaps I can make the trip back here or to Brimwood sometime, or you can somehow get out there.”

Raith nodded emotionlessly.

“I think it is best for me. The forest will be in your very capable hands.”

“I think it is for the best as well,” Raith said. “The rare times we visited your side of the family, you were so happy, and then later noticeably sadder when we had to leave.”

“Yes,” she reminisced. “You will be okay. You’re always okay, my little mighty warrior. You are so strong, like how you deeply loved your father, but his death hasn’t affected you.”

“I’ve accepted it, I guess,” Raith said, sometimes feeling guilty that there was no negative emotion when he thought about his father and thought there should be.

“You will not even be heartbroken when I leave,” she teased. “You will miss me, but soon you will accept that too.”

He nodded knowingly.

“You are so calm, so collected, even more than your father.”

“So cold?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she assured. “Some men, White, Black or of any colour or ethnicity, do not show emotion, especially men, thinking they cannot or should not. That’s how you and your father grew up. I know you love me: you just don’t say it or show it.”

“And you might need that from me or from father. I’m sorry. It might have been a little hard for you. I saw your family in Quebec. They were not raised like I was. They are not primitive. This was not your world.”

“But you and Ravenna became my world,” she deflected, mentioning his sister.

“I realize how I feel towards things, and I think of myself as some sort of monster or as icy as our river in the winter. When Ravenna left, I was only disappointed that she was abandoning our ways. She left, and I felt very little. Even the mild offence I felt of her actions dissipated over time.”

“Raith,” she said sweetly, stroking his hair. “You are not a monster. It just takes a little more to get you to feel and for you to express that. A monster would not miss me or would not care that I’m leaving. Is that you?”

“No, I will definitely miss you,” he said and wondered if a tear was welling up. “I was even thinking of asking you not to go, but that would be unfair to you.”

“I know you think that all the deeds you do from being Keeper of the Forest is just duty, but it is not: you do care. You just have to look deep, deep, deep inside.”

“I will miss you, mother.”

“You better! I will miss you, sweetest Raith,” she said tenderly, “more than you’ll ever know.”

& & &

Autumn, 1978.

Raith always wondered if there were beings like himself beyond what science had defined. He knew of his family and other families like him but not of any other creatures that could transform into another being. So, he had ravens comb the land in search of supernatural beings. They would come back once a year and report their findings. There were four ravens, one for each direction. There never was anything to report, false leads that never developed or no sightings of the kind desired.

This year, it was quite different. One raven told Raith of how an injured fawn in the Niagara region was hobbling on a broken leg. Thinking it was not long for in this world, the raven moved on until days later that same fawn was completely healed. She had very distinctive markings making it easy to discern her from others. The raven knew some humans help heal animals but none so quickly for something so serious. This raven talked with two local others and coordinated a concerted attack on the fawn where a gaping wound was left. The raven hypothesized it would go again to whomever was healing her, and this time he would follow.

The fawn unknowingly led the raven to a petite blond young woman of slim build who lived in a cave. The woman caught the raven’s glance and asked that he approach her. The raven had no such intention and wanted to flee but somehow could not, and through a will not his own flew over to where the fawn was being attended to.

The young woman made some chirping noises and asked whether he was responsible for this. The raven tried his hardest to deny the allegation but confessed and even said there were two others, even though implicating his accomplices was the last thing he would do.

She asked, why? He told her the truth.

She asked, would your master approve of your actions? Probably not.

She asked him to tell me her about his master. He did so, though not wanting to.

“I am intrigued,” she said in the raven tongue. “He is looking for others like him. I am looking for others like me. Ask him to come see me. I cannot go and visit him.”

“I will,” the raven said. “Please tell the fawn I am sorry.”

“I will,” she said. “And you better be.”

          Raith was quite excited at the news and cancelled any immediate plans and duties and followed the raven to who they called the “nymph.” Upon arriving, the nymph named Eilir and the shapeshifter immediately bonded, with Raith offering a succulent wine from his forest. He found out she could not stray too far from the area, or she would feel sick and may eventually die. He thought she could live indefinitely if she stayed in the area and might have been over a hundred years old. No nymphs appeared elderly. There was not much bonding between family members. Each nymph could have one child, who will appear as a young woman in around three years. After that time, the nymph leaves and tries to find a home for herself. Nymphs can detect a certain “radiation” and if they find it and remain close to it, they will live indefinitely. Without it, they may only live forty to fifty years. They have two powerful abilities, one was using innate traits to heal ailments or creating medicines from plant life around the area. Their other ability helps them with the first, for they can charm and enamour almost any male and perhaps even females with their great beauty and an unseen will of their being. They essentially become slaves, though very happy ones during their time with the nymph which usually lasts at least two years. She doesn’t want to spend the time to train another but understand that their lives are interrupted and their friends and family might look for them. Their search might bring unwanted attention to herself. When the males leave, they are given a powerful suggestion forgetting everything that happened. One companion left before he was supposed to. He was travelling overseas from the UK, and his mother became sick, and he flew immediately back, without saying good-bye. The mother recovered. He explained to his parents that he was at a planned community. In the late stages of his life, suffering dementia, he spoke of the nymph, but no one believed him. Raith wondered if he could overcome her mind controlling powers and playfully tested it once. He managed to escape but knew she wasn’t trying as hard as she could. After their initial meeting, he would visit every couple of years. The raven who found her stayed with her to make sure she was okay and also in case she needed to send a message to Raith.

& & &

          Autumn, 1985

          Raith was making calculations based on his old map of Ontario. There were two sightings and one instance of left behind evidence of BaerMorte’s passing, all of which he was only informed that morning through ravens. There was one report expected near noon. It was hard to translate raven reports on this, not the most detailed of, maps. Even given such inaccuracies, the line looked pretty straight. The creature was covering a certain distance a day, and its path was quite predictable. Shortly before noon, Fyrebaer was spotted again, exactly where Raith predicted. He went over the reports and double-checked the calculations and what he feared most was true: BaerMorte was headed straight toward Eilir and would be there tonight.

          There was no time to send a message to Eilir. He was going there immediately anyway and would be there in a little over 4 hours if he hurried. Previous casual trips took 5. It dawned upon him that he was surely flying to his death. As skilled as he was combatting humans, he was no match for Fyrebaer. Still, he was likely smarter than it, and he had hours to come up with a plan. There was no thought of simply letting her die. That would have been a consideration for most: Irina, Mike, even Lenora, but she was like him in a way indescribable. There was an innate drive to look out for one another, protect one another, and possibly save one another. The sniper rifle that Sterling’s hired assassin aimed at me, that would be helpful, he thought, but he wasn’t sure that even that would kill what he knew about his nemesis. It certainly would kill him if it hit its mark. The mine that Raith stepped on while trying to kill the Canadian Bomber, that would also be useful, though if it didn’t kill him, it would likely not kill BaerMorte, though Raith managed to avoid the full brunt of the blow. Maybe one of those missile launchers that can take out a tank. That should be able do it. Where do we get one? How do we fire one? He didn’t have time to get these things even if he knew where to look. By the time he got there, it would already be getting dark.

          Eilir could run, but the Fyrebaer seems able to sense her. One really can’t escape it. It is fast and can climb and swim, though Raith could simply fly away. That was an option he thought. If it is really hopeless, better to live and continue your contribution to the world then to futilely die in vain. She could hide. The bear is big but unfortunately so is her cave entrance. Perhaps there is a nook or hiding place that the bear cannot reach, or if he gets there early enough, they could create one. Underground is best, but she has to breathe. If you dig earth to put her in, Crimson Death could dig dirt in order to pull her out and most likely more effectively. He could fly away with her, but he did not know how fay away they could go or for how long before she get’s sick. At least, that’s an option. He concluded that was the best plan: don’t fight; hide in a nook in the caves if possible; otherwise try to fly her to safety.

          He went through the thought process again and came to the same conclusion. Knowing more thinking would not help, he tried to put it out of his mind and focus on getting to Eilir’s as quick as possible.

          When he got there, he saw she was reinforcing the cave entrance with the simple handmade furniture.

          “Fyrebaer is after you.”

          “I know. Animals around told me.”

          “I’m going to see if you can hide in the cave,” Raith said. After looking around, he concluded, “I don’t see a safe spot that a motivated giant, killer, red bear can’t get to. My second plan is to fly you to safety. What we need is a mountain that he can’t climb. I don’t see any around though, not even hills.”

          “There are no tall trees that he could not tear apart or that are high enough,” she agreed.

          “How far from this area can you be before you get sick?”

          “Not very far, maybe a kilometer radius.”

          “I can fly you high over the ground.”

          “How long can you do that for?”

          “As long as it takes,” Raith joked. “I’m pretty tired though, maybe a couple of hours.”

          “I can try to — what do you call it — ‘charm’ it,” Eilir suggested.

          “Actually, that’s not a bad idea, maybe it has low will power. I will fly you high in the sky, and you can do your thing.”

          “Okay,” she said.

          The sun hadn’t completely set yet. They still had time. Raith tried to have some scouting ravens in the perimeter. Some were assigned to follow Fyrebaer, but none could find him.

          “I’m frightened,” she admitted and leaned on Raith’s shoulder.

          “Me too,” he admitted in a whisper.

          “If this is the end … thank you.”

          “Yeah, no need to talk like that.”

          “He’s after me, you don’t have to be …”

          “Shhh,” he whispered. “Yes, I do, yes, I do.”

          Raith had transformed and they sat on the top of a hill, with a clear view of the terrain below, though it was quickly getting dark on a moonless night. The raven scouts might not be very effective as their night vision was not great. They waited for hours and were getting tired. Eilir was drifting and doze off occasionally. He let her, he could always scoop her up and head skyward if there was trouble. More hours past. Nothing was reported. If they could make it until morning, they could regroup with heavier arms and reinforce their shelter.

          Raith’s sharp ears heard a noise different from the usual murmurs of the night. He heard loud footsteps behind him quickly approaching and the screams of his watchful ravens. He gently scooped Eilir up with his sharp talons and tried to get high into the air as quickly as he could. Once he was airborne, he did not look back. Even when twenty feet in the air, he still tried getting higher, not believing they were yet safe. Thirty, forty, and then fifty feet. Raith risked a glance back only to hear a thunderous deafening roar that stunned him, his wings kept flapping only through sheer instinct. Descending slightly from the confusion, his blurry eyes saw a giant fiery monstrosity flail itself at him, its razor-like claw cutting into his wing as the two tumbled to the earth below.

          Trying to peck out the bear’s eye ended with him being swatted away. Its attention was on Eilir, but Raith kept attacking with talon and beak strikes to the face. Largely ignored, it kept getting closer to Eilir, until an accurate blow to the face caused it to stumble. Raith kept up the attack, but the Fyrebaer, now enraged, swung its mighty paw, and it ripped into Raith’s torso. He was then slammed to the ground, prone and held in place by the gigantic appendage. Raith’s eyes were wide expecting his impending demise, but Fyrebaer simply slammed Raith’s head in the ground below, knocking him unconscious.

& & &

          “Where am I?” he asked when he awoke and saw Eilir mixing small vials on a table. “Where’s Fyrebaer? Were you able to charm it?”

          “It wasn’t trying to kill me,” Eilir said with a gentle touch to his forehead. “It only wanted my help.”

          “Really?” Raith laughed. “Maybe, that’s why it spared me.”

          “I saw how you fought …”

          Raith motioned his hand dismissively. “What’s wrong with him?”

          “He just told me he was sick and collapsed. He is still breathing,” she said.

          Still not completely awake, he thought over all the possibilities in his mind.

“I know what you are thinking,” she said, almost reading his mind. “We can’t do that. He could have killed both of us but didn’t.”

          Raith nodded. “He killed my father … but maybe it doesn’t know any better. You’re right. We can’t. Can you help him?”

          “I’m pretty sure I can. I’ve seen the symptoms before. He might live or hibernate near commercial mines.”

          “So, it’s a human-made sickness?”

          “Most likely,” she said.

          “I am thinking the sickness does not cause his aggression and voracious need to consume large game. That’s just who he is.”

          “I think so too,” Eilir said. “You can’t blame everything on the white man’s pursuit of progress.”

“I try my best though.”

“Rest, my dear friend. You need nursing as well.”

“As you wish,” he said and quickly fell into a peaceful slumber.

          When Raith awoke again, Fyrebaer was gone.

“I asked,” Eilir told Raith, as he tried to clear the cobwebs from his weary mind.

“You asked who? You asked what?”

“Fyrebaer … about your father …”

“And …”

“He says he never killed him. Your father escaped. I asked, are you sure? Could you have accidentally killed him? He said your father was very much alive. He certainly wanted to kill him, but your father went into a cave or tunnel, and he could not reach him. We were thinking of the same thing, but nothing like that was in our surroundings.”

Raith sat stunned. “How could that be? I was told the tribe of one of his companions came back to the area and searched the place thoroughly for over three days and could not find the body.”

“Maybe he is alive.”

“Then why didn’t he come home?” Raith asked on the verge of tears. Eilir wrapped her arms around him and gently rocked him as he closed his eyes.

& & &

          After realizing that Fyrebaer did not kill his father, he thought of the other possibilities. If he was alive, then those searching for him would have found him, unless he did not want to be found. Unless he did not want to be found. Did he not want such a life? He did pass on the title of Keeper of the Forest earlier than was expected. He never appeared unhappy. Still, Raith needed to know. He gathered all the facts he knew, the date of his disappearance, his perceived age at that time — looking like a man in his 50s, his appearance, he did not know if his father knew anyone in Brimwood though he would go there and have a drink a couple of times a week. He wished he had more information to pass along. He knew not the name his father used in town. Raith then wrote a letter to Irina asking for help but not revealing who this man was. Mike picked it up and mailed it. Raith decided not to tell his mom until he had something definite.

          Around three months later, he received a letter from Irina. In it were the detailed report of what the private investigator had found. The person searched for had no previously official identification before he went missing. A single mother from Brimwood left the area with her daughter a week after he disappeared. The person searched for and this mother and child went to Winnipeg, where he acquired some fake identification. Months later, they moved to BC and started renting a house. He did construction and manual labour work ever since. Three years after he went missing, he got a BC driver’s license. They bought a used car shortly after. A couple of years later, they bought a townhouse, one-quarter down, mortgage for the rest. His partner’s child graduated high school. His address was listed.

          Within days, Raith flew to his mother’s sister place in Quebec. He had to tell her in person. He was sure she would get over it quickly, like he had always done. She had her own life now and things probably were not what they seemed between his parents. There was always a lack of warmth, but not seeing any other couples, Raith did not know if that was normal. Even if it was, it could be typical for our kind of people. She took it well and revealed the shortcomings of their relationship. Neither of them was going to visit him in BC. She had nothing to say to him. Raith thought it was too far and would not fly on a plane. His plan was to write a letter, which he did.

          Six. It took him six tries before he had a final version of the letter he wished to send to his father. He was not so much angry as shocked and disappointed, so very disappointed as he expected so much more from the man he looked up to the most. No matter how difficult things were, this was not the mature solution to deal with the problem. He should have known better. After writing it and sending it off, only then he realized he should have been happy that his father was still alive and took a moment to appreciate that … a very short moment.

& & &

          Spring, 1986.

A clean-cut thin man, dressed in a grey sports jacket, dark blue jeans, and a dress shirt, walked towards Raith’s home. Garbed in unsuitable clothes for the woods, he at least had the good sense to where hiking boots. Raith was outside when he saw the man. Their eyes met and both acknowledged each other with mutual nods of their heads. The visitor walked closer.

“Raith … As you might imagine, it took a lot of trouble and expense to get here, but I had to say these words to you in person, not in a phone call, or a letter, or a raven message — you deserve that.”

“You look exactly the same as the last time I saw you over twenty years ago,” Raith said. “I appreciate the effort. I am listening.”

“I read your letter, dozens and dozens of times. The points you make in it are absolutely correct. I left this forest, but the decision was not made lightly. If I was the only keeper of this forest, I would never have run away from such a responsibility. However, for years it was in your more-than-capable hands, and my supporting of that function was not really needed. It was a role passed on from generations, and I took it seriously, very seriously, and never strayed from my dedication to it duties. My falsifying my demise had nothing to do with that. Keeping the forest safe was of utmost importance to me while I was doing it. I will admit I did not enjoy it as much as you did, but it was the role that was given to me and which I inherited, so enjoyment was never really considered since choice was absent from the equation.

“As it concerns your mother, it was an arranged marriage and not the most ideal or compatible. She, I later found out, had a lot of objections when it came to marrying me, but as we all know, our people are dying, the families of our kind being no more. If we did not marry, two family lines would not continue. We did our duty and produced two children. She, as you well know, did not come from a primitive family like ours. She grew up in a small town and lead a small-town, rural life until age seventeen. She was unhappy here. Raising and educating you and your sister was her only purpose. The love and affection she saw between husbands and wives was not present in our relationship. I tried my best, I really did … I swear to you I did … but it was not what we wished.

“Unlike yourself, I do not hold too much contempt against the modern and the technological. I was instilled with the values of primitivism from my forefathers, but there is so much of technology that is useful, convenient, makes our lives easier, more enjoyable, and simply fun. It comes at a cost, to the environment, to our value system, to our very soul itself, and you can lose who you are in this empty modern world, but you can also find balance and not lose sight of what matters. That is what I strive for. Out of curiosity, how did you even find me? You never mentioned that in the letter.”

“Yes, I think I was too busy trying to get everything out. It is quite a story. I always kept an eye out for beings like us,” Raith explained, “who can do things science cannot explain. How we can do what we do, none of us really knows. I would never use the word ‘magic’ though. Science can explain it one day, but not today. I sent out ravens to look for like creatures and years go by and one raven finds another being. She is like a forest nymph but not really. She can heal. I visited her and we became friends. Her name is Eilir. Fyrebaer was spotted from my ravens going directly to where she was. I did all I could to try to protect her.”

“Well, you are still alive. Did you two somehow defeat it?” Rhythern asked ready to be impressed.

Raith laughed, “not a chance in hell. He could have easily killed both of us, but he was wounded and needed to be healed and that is why he went to Eilir. As you know, we really cannot communicate with any animals that are not ravens. Even crows don’t understand us, so communication with Fyrebaer was not possible with me, but it was so with Eilir. I was passed out then, but she asked about you. She said, it said, it never killed you; it tried and wanted too, but you were gone.”

Raith’s father admitted, “I fell in this disgusting, putrid, cavern. It came near where I was but did initially not want to investigate more. I went deeper into the cave, us ravens having a high tolerance for the unappetizing, as you know. It came around one more time, digging with it paws and trying to get into the cavern as much as it could but the noxious odours must have hid my scent, and in any event, I was out of reach. I was quite sure I was safe as his massive frame could not have got in that narrow opening. After it left and I calmed down, I thought this was my way out of this life that I did not enjoy or want.

“I was seeing a woman in Brimwood. Her name was Hannah. I wanted to spend my life with her. She made me happy. The life I was stuck in did not. This was my chance. Your mom and you would think I was dead. I was free. I could run faraway to a new life with Hannah. I had no money but our kind have greater-than-human abilities so that would not be too much of a problem. You know the rest according to the letter. How did you get all those details? That is private eye stuff, very expensive.”

“A close, well-off friend funded the search. It took a long time. I didn’t give … the person … much to work with.”

“Sterling Harrington died,” Rhythern stated matter-of-factly. “His beautiful wife was held captive as collateral at a remote reserve, where she became sympathetic with environmental and indigenous issues. “She was seen with your motorcycle friend going into these woods.”

“How could you possibly know?”

“I keep my ears open, trying to find out what my son is up to. You are in a relationship with the wife of someone you had to kill?”

“Yes,” Raith nodded. “She started it. She’s nuts. It is all … not long term … and that is how we want it. Yes, Irina hired the private eye that found you.”

“Maybe, I’m not looking so bad now,” he joked.

“Let’s not get carried away,” Raith smirked.

“You said in the letter mom knew about the relationship. It was never about anything physical, but more emotional, maybe even spiritual. I was, even with all our abilities versus typical humans, an empty shell and Hannah in her small way made me less so, slowly making me whole again. I was surprised that your mother knew, because I thought she would have confronted me. You said she was actually happy for me and did not want to interfere. Such a giving woman. I wish I could have done so much more for her. Hopefully, the person she is with now could be for her all that I was not.”

“She seems very happy with her life,” Raith said.

“Good, good,” Rhythern said. “I always wished I could have done better there, but I did not know how. You made the trip all the way to Quebec to tell her I was alive?”

Raith nodded. “Arms got tired.”

“How did she react?”

“She was shocked by the news. We both really thought you died based on what the companion you were with told us. There was a chance you might be alive, but we never thought you would runaway. That, with respect, is the coward’s way out, an action of someone immature, foolish, and my father was neither of those things. Frankly, she never thought about you.”

“That’s not surprising,” Rhythern said. “You move on and live your own life. I frequently thought about you two and Ravenna. It is ironic that I scolded your sister for leaving and then secretly followed her path. I missed all of you, but especially you, and I was not proud of my actions even way back them, knowing how ashamed you would be if you ever found out.

“You wrote about my handling of the situation, calling it immature. It was. I should have told her and tried to work something out. She could have went home, and I stay and live my life, maybe in Brimwood. She wasn’t the one I was worried about hurting. I could tell her there was another and that I wanted to leave this life, but I could not tell … you. I wanted to leave but was afraid to talk to you and disappoint you. You and the values of our family are an exact fit. You are the ideal. You breathe it. It is apart of you. I only played that part, though I did it quite well. You believed in my heated passion for my role but most times my interest was lukewarm, often feeling like a trapped animal caught in those traps hunters put out. I was a coward. I was afraid of talking to you and being honest with you. It is my source of greatest regret.”

Raith listened to every word, digesting every piece of information, combining it with what he already knew.

“Finally, I came here to say a few words that I am sure I have never spoken to you. I taught you as best as I could and in the familial tradition to make you the best Keeper of the Forrest I knew how. That was my duty. All else as it pertained to your upbringing was secondary, though mom made sure you were educated in all aspects of life. I have people in town and my own ravens in this forest that bring me news of what you are up to. Thus, I know of your deeds: Sterling, the bomber, that misguided missionary. I never touched the chief’s daughter … You’ve seen her … Anyway, I am so proud of you. I hear of the things you have done in our forest and the surrounding area, and I know that it is your doing. This world is immensely better because of you. My admiration and respect are beyond words. You are a great man — much better than I aspired to be — a great raven and an even greater combination of both.”

His father place both hands on Raith’s shoulder and looked intently into his eyes.

After a seemingly endless pause, he said, “I am sorry … and I love you.”

The two embraced and the rarest of tears fell from the pair of miscolored eyes.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright Kai Toh 2026

Image Source: Dey from Fictom.com