Post by ÅSA BRYNHILDR MONTILYÉT on Oct 28, 2021 7:56:18 GMT
[attr="class","main1"]Tiny pink footed pajamas adored in hearts and sheep forced their way beneath heavy wool blankets. A recollection of a tale of warriors and siege spoken by memory and rich Russian called a collection of tiny faces toward a loving father. Kristjan chose his makeshift bed by the window as opposed to his father’s side though that was more due to Asa’s jealousy than personal preference. Their father’s bed held more than enough room for all of them but Asa had claimed the spot on his right all to herself months ago. Emerald eyes struggled to see beyond platinum curls as she watched Arseni’s attempt to climb his way onto the bed alongside them using the blankets as a makeshift ladder. ”Go away.” She instructed, sitting upright to challenge her older brother. No, you go away was his clever reply as Asa kicked out a foot to knock him back down to the floor again. The story paused as their narrator struggled not to laugh despite the scolding of her mother a few feet away as she moved to retrieve her son from the floor. Tiny hands grappled with the blankets before drowning herself in all the comforts her father’s side had to offer. The spoils of war.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Small cries accompanied even smaller footsteps as she pleaded with her mother to let her go. Ribbons cascaded through tight braids and partially finished plaits gave her tiny frame the comical appearance of being too heavy on one side. She squirmed in her mother’s arms, twisting her midsection to slip between careful hands as she took off in a sprint toward the eastern side of the house. A name followed behind her on the wind as she called after Papa. The onyx tail of his horse was visible from even where she stood at the top of that old dirt path. Fresh tears and the fear of being left behind gave her a final push to rush down the path behind him, her mother hot on her heels. Though she’d managed to catch her father’s eye he seemed to take more joy in watching her mother attempt to wrangle her than he did in the thought of trotting back to meet his determined daughter. Tiny hands latched onto his leg as she approached, her face buried into the ends of his coat to avoid her mother’s furrowed brow. ’You’re not going to take her with you.’ Her mother’s voice was laced with defeat as she already knew the answer. Arms raised upward toward her father as she was promptly lifted onto his lap, a smug expression hidden in his shoulder as she settled against him. Mama never outranked Papa.
”Camel meal. Uhm.. Ginger .. Fever- .. Fever. . .view” Words recited by heart albeit poorly. A father correcting her grammar as they moved between various patches of herbs. Her mother and a family friend followed closely behind deep in conversation though not out of range for the girl bouncing along happily behind her father. ’I don’t know. It’s almost as if he’s so used to be a father to daughters that he doesn’t know what to do with sons.’
’Asa’s just mad because she’s a squid.’ Arseni’s taunting voice directly hit its mark as fair cheeks turned scarlet red in frustration. ’Not squid. A SQUIB.’ Kristjan corrected, nodding in his younger brother’s direction as if in agreement. ”I am NOT a squib!” She shouted definitely, holding her head upright and high despite the small chant of squib, squib that had erupted from the small crowd of children attending the summer solstice festival. Just because both of her brothers had already shown their magical prowess in one way or the other didn’t mean her day wasn’t yet to come, right? Right? In fact most of her family had shown magical ability by the age of five or six but she was nearing eight. She wasn’t blind. Even she heard some of her parents’ friends talking about how if children were to inherit magical ability it would show by the age of seven. ”Stop.” She whispered, her plea falling on deaf ears and disappearing into the dull roar of the crowd of children now forming a circle around her. Even some of the adults had begun to take notice though no cared to intervene rather than laugh at her expense.
”Don’t call me that!” She tried again, this time in more of a demand as anger began to replace shame. Tiny cheeks burned a violent shade of strawberry as she rushed forward at her older brother, palms outstretched as she pushed him backward toward the collection of firewood meant for the celebration. He stumbled slightly before losing balance completely and toppling over into the sharp collection of lumber. Various scrapes and fresh jabs only angered him as he pushed his way up again and returned the favor, charging his younger sister with intent to tussle. The wind was knocked clear out of her as her head hit the ground, her shoulder instinctively attempting to roll to one side to dislodge her brother to no avail. She was pinned. Humiliated and .. probably a squib. Hot tears stained pale cheeks as she submitted to the inevitable, the call of the crowd dulling as she closed her eyes to block it all out. Arseni would grow tired of his show and leave her to her shame soon enough.
In her mind she was somewhere far away. Climbing distant mountains and proving the world wrong. The silence around her was accompanied by a dull warmth that seemed to grow with every passing second. Undeniable joy for which there didn’t appear to be a source as bliss allowed her to soar well above the limits of clouds and simple magic. Arseni’s weight was lifted from her shoulders though she dared not open her eyes just yet. She didn’t want to leave this world of wonders she’d created to block out the shame. Cherry puddles stained the ground as her feet finally returned to the earth. A downpour of crimson rain doused blonde tresses as she leapt from one pool of liquid to the other. Oh, what a lively imagination! Asa! A sharp jolt forced her out of Heaven. The sudden force of her head leaving the ground as she was lifted upright force green eyes to open. A moment of confused lights lingered before allowing her to focus on the … terrified? .. expression on her father’s face.
”Papa?” She questioned quickly, her call going unanswered in the silence engulfing them both. Strong hands attempted to guide her cheek to his shoulder to shield her from something as he began the journey back to Rosethorn. Yet, curiosity would always get the better of her as she struggled to peek over his shoulder at what had caused the upset. Her mother followed not too far behind, a cradled image of a bloodied boy one she’d never forget as the face of her brother pulled into focus. Simple scrapes had been opened to full cuts as though he’d been attacked by a blade and bruised skin lay dotted in fresh blood. What happened?
At least Arseni nor any of the other children on the island ever dared taunt her again.
”These are mine?” Wide eyes followed the iridescent trim of a kunai set being set before her. It was difficult to find knives that weren’t dull from the constant onslaught of demons but to find a set so meticulously made and ornate to cater to a particular taste- that was impossible. ”Where did you get them!?” There was an assault of questions she tossed at her father in rapid succession as thin fingers trailed the deadly edge of her favored weapon. Honestly, they were just for tricks and shows. Something to pass the time on a rainy day. Never did she imagine anyone would have gone out of their way to secure her a utility set. Every last neon color down the hearts cut out of the hilt had been custom made with her in mind. ’Try them’. Asa’s joy radiated through her smile as she lunged forward to wrap her arms about her father’s neck. A glimmer to weary jade returned in kind was his only response as she took to removing the blades from the black backing. His conversation turned toward Uncle Kay as she focused on an old target board about forty yards out. The fresh metal was heavy in her palms as she lay out a spread in each palm, focus and perhaps the confidence that came with having done this a thousand times over saw neon strike red with every throw. The conversation taking place behind her hushed but still audible.
’How much anime do you let this one watch?’
’You’re just jealous your marksmanship is shit.’ -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------