Artefacts and "Tevevision" Preparations
On Wednesday morning—that Wednesday—the sleepy silence of the House of Winds was shattered by some impatient pounding on the door; the lion-shaped metal knocker had turned into a true percussion instrument.
"ba-baba-bam-ba-ba-ba..."
Asleep on the living room windowsill, not on his comfortable pillow, Mistral would have cursed, but he remembered he was an educated chat noir.
"Mon Dieu! Ce n'est pas possible! It’s still early! My fur needs at least 9 hours of sleep, otherwise it loses its sheen!"
"Who-who is coming, Mistral? Is it the Lady Mother? Has that event already started and we... we are still sleeping?" Sirocco asked immediately, making an instant appearance with his fluffy tail in the shape of a question mark.
"Mistral, is it time to wake Anemo? Has Mrs. Aura arrived?" Aeolus asked as well, preparing to make his way from the corner of the fireplace to the windowsill where Mistral was.
"It’s not the Lady Mother, don’t worry, it’s the Lord Father... the Professor! Simoon Gale has returned!" Mistral cried, jumping like he’d been burnt from the windowsill onto the thick oriental carpet.
"Who-who is this professor?" asked Sirocco, who was much newer to this world than the other two.
The answer did not come from Aeolus or Mistral, but from Anemo himself, who was flying down the stairs two at a time, barefoot and in his navy blue cartoon-print pajamas.
"Dad! Dad, you’re back!"
Anemo opened the front door and threw himself into the arms of the man standing there—a slightly older and much more tanned version of himself, who was about 3 centimeters shorter than him by now.
"Son!"
The man had an Indiana Jones charm about him, in his linen clothes of various shades of beige.
"Decided to give Egypt a break, Dad? When did you arrive?"
Questions poured out of Anemo’s mouth as he pulled his father into the house, toward the kitchen, toward the alchemy of coffee with pink salt.
"Late last night, son. Your mother nearly had a heart attack when she heard the key in the lock..."
"Oh, poor Mother. She’s very busy today with all the preparations for the big book club event."
"You’re right! Your mother has been awake since dawn and hasn't stopped working. I’m a bit jealous, but I hope after today I’ll have all her attention... Your coffee could wake the mummies, son! How is your life?"
Simoon jumped from one topic to another,wanting to say everything, to hear everything, to fill the void of an absence of more than six months. Beside his chair, right on the polished "skating-rink-mirror" tiles, lay a small, worn khaki backpack that seemed to have very few things in it.
"And, as I’ve always done, here is a collection of replicas... some so well-made, you’d swear they were original artefacts. You’ll have time to admire them later; right now, I’m being selfish and I want you all to myself!"
Our furry ones, Anemo’s plush sentinels lined up neatly by the back yard door, let out a collective feline sigh.
"What a disappointment, Aeolus! Even I would have enjoyed some new bliz-blizs, as mature and level-headed as I am... what can we even say about Ginger... I couldn't wait to see what the Simoon brought... but, well!"
"What is a 'bliz-bliz,' Aeolus? Is it one of those 'sofisficated' cans Mistral eats? I don't want that, I'd rather have a portion of ice cream!"
"Relax, kiddo, bliz-blizs aren't for eating, they’re jingling objects... The Professor used to bring Anemo replicas of true arfefacts since he waschild..."
"You mean 'arfefacts' are like those arti, arti... artistic facts?"
"Explain it to him, Aeolus, I’m too hungry to think! I’m going to do that scheme... the noisy pushing of the empty bowl on these... fairly clean tiles."
"My stomach has woken up its noise too! I'll do the scheme as well, let's leave the 'arfefacts' and 'bliz-blizs' for later! Today the tufted one is coming to make me handsome for 'tevevision'! I’m learning more every day!"
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