Post by Avalon Salabim on Dec 26, 2019 9:50:27 GMT -8
More than half unable to return to duty.
Avalon's grip on the parchment tightened as she reread the brief news update that had been passed on about the soldiers of Cabal going out to aid Zekunft. Her heart lodged in her throat as her thoughts dwelled on the battlefield and the losses that they had taken, even if it was a success in the end. The important thing was that the second letter she held didn't contain letter of condolence.
Clearing her throat, the mage looked up at the mirror before her.
“Mother, Father. There's something I need to speak to you about.” Her grip tightened further on the paper, the crinkling sound echoing through the room loud enough to make her wince as she quickly smoothed out the sign of distress. Setting it down on the dresser, her mind wandered to her family. Her parents and the gala they would be hosting this year for the nobility and upper class, diplomats and scholars. The warm flickering of mage lights and candles, the laughter and smiles that would be dimmed somewhat by the recent battles, but still relishing in a time of friends and family. Students like herself who had a brief reprieve from the academy to celebrate passing their exams – at least, they should have passed.
Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting the braids and twists to keep them tidy and as erect as she could. She had to be presentable today, wear a face that didn't show the churning in her stomach. Put forward the smile of joy she felt at being able to see her loved ones and be ready to reach out to those that needed to have their spirts lifted if she found them. She wondered what Rowan would be doing this year, or Simon. If they'd join the festivities or skip out. What their oldest brother, Preston, was doing in Cabal's academy to the south. She wondered what it was like there. If he was happy with the decision he'd made to transfer.
She wondered if that changed now that the time of peace was over.
Requesting aid for mages and support.
She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and counted to three. Counted to ten. Counted to twenty. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell on her own project she had focused on this year, the qi crystal rotating as it glowed with the additional mana – the additional qi – that had been transformed in its core. She hadn't asked anyone what they thought of it, but the work had gotten her good marks, as expected. But it didn't seem bright enough, or to do enough in her mind. It needed more. But what?
“Miss Salabim?” A gentle knock at the door pulled her from thoughts. Jumping at the interruption, Avalon hastily folded the paper and tucked it away in the top door of her dresser.
“Yes?” The door opened to revealed one of the staff members that had helped to ensure everything ran smoothly while the Salabims played host. A somewhat familiar face, but not enough to have her completely at ease.
“I apologize for the interruption, miss. Your parents were asking for you.”
“Of course.” She smiled, the expression small, but gentle. “Thank you. Please let them know I will be along in a moment.” Thankfully the woman didn't press for more; Avalon wasn't the type to be tardy, and her lower class would mean a heavier insult if she had questioned the young noble.
When the door shut, she returned to the mirror, brushing the skirt of her dress as she examined her reflection and found it acceptable. It was the words that weren't working right, sticking in her throat like a rock as she tried to find a way to break the news gently to them. She hoped they would understand and support her decision, as they had in the past. It was all she really could hope for.
Taking a small sip of water, she tried for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“Mother, Father, there is something I wish to speak to you about.” Less hesitation this time, smoother. Almost confident. She had to be.
But the rest of the words still stuck in her throat, no matter how she tried to force them out. No amount of preparing or practice or primping would make this easier for any of them.
Her hand rested on the top of the dresser. It was almost like she could feel the letter hidden in the drawer below, like a flame that wouldn't go out and would shine no matter what you did with it.
“Not tonight,” she murmured to herself, stepping back and turnign towards the door. Her polite smile was in place, the lights of the manor aglow as she stepped into the outskirts of the gala. Tonight would be a night of celebration and smiles, the last one for perhaps quite some time.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would tell them.
Word Count: 854
((Avalon saves Christmas by not giving her family hard news, but ruins the morning after!))
Avalon's grip on the parchment tightened as she reread the brief news update that had been passed on about the soldiers of Cabal going out to aid Zekunft. Her heart lodged in her throat as her thoughts dwelled on the battlefield and the losses that they had taken, even if it was a success in the end. The important thing was that the second letter she held didn't contain letter of condolence.
Clearing her throat, the mage looked up at the mirror before her.
“Mother, Father. There's something I need to speak to you about.” Her grip tightened further on the paper, the crinkling sound echoing through the room loud enough to make her wince as she quickly smoothed out the sign of distress. Setting it down on the dresser, her mind wandered to her family. Her parents and the gala they would be hosting this year for the nobility and upper class, diplomats and scholars. The warm flickering of mage lights and candles, the laughter and smiles that would be dimmed somewhat by the recent battles, but still relishing in a time of friends and family. Students like herself who had a brief reprieve from the academy to celebrate passing their exams – at least, they should have passed.
Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting the braids and twists to keep them tidy and as erect as she could. She had to be presentable today, wear a face that didn't show the churning in her stomach. Put forward the smile of joy she felt at being able to see her loved ones and be ready to reach out to those that needed to have their spirts lifted if she found them. She wondered what Rowan would be doing this year, or Simon. If they'd join the festivities or skip out. What their oldest brother, Preston, was doing in Cabal's academy to the south. She wondered what it was like there. If he was happy with the decision he'd made to transfer.
She wondered if that changed now that the time of peace was over.
Requesting aid for mages and support.
She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and counted to three. Counted to ten. Counted to twenty. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell on her own project she had focused on this year, the qi crystal rotating as it glowed with the additional mana – the additional qi – that had been transformed in its core. She hadn't asked anyone what they thought of it, but the work had gotten her good marks, as expected. But it didn't seem bright enough, or to do enough in her mind. It needed more. But what?
“Miss Salabim?” A gentle knock at the door pulled her from thoughts. Jumping at the interruption, Avalon hastily folded the paper and tucked it away in the top door of her dresser.
“Yes?” The door opened to revealed one of the staff members that had helped to ensure everything ran smoothly while the Salabims played host. A somewhat familiar face, but not enough to have her completely at ease.
“I apologize for the interruption, miss. Your parents were asking for you.”
“Of course.” She smiled, the expression small, but gentle. “Thank you. Please let them know I will be along in a moment.” Thankfully the woman didn't press for more; Avalon wasn't the type to be tardy, and her lower class would mean a heavier insult if she had questioned the young noble.
When the door shut, she returned to the mirror, brushing the skirt of her dress as she examined her reflection and found it acceptable. It was the words that weren't working right, sticking in her throat like a rock as she tried to find a way to break the news gently to them. She hoped they would understand and support her decision, as they had in the past. It was all she really could hope for.
Taking a small sip of water, she tried for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“Mother, Father, there is something I wish to speak to you about.” Less hesitation this time, smoother. Almost confident. She had to be.
But the rest of the words still stuck in her throat, no matter how she tried to force them out. No amount of preparing or practice or primping would make this easier for any of them.
Her hand rested on the top of the dresser. It was almost like she could feel the letter hidden in the drawer below, like a flame that wouldn't go out and would shine no matter what you did with it.
“Not tonight,” she murmured to herself, stepping back and turnign towards the door. Her polite smile was in place, the lights of the manor aglow as she stepped into the outskirts of the gala. Tonight would be a night of celebration and smiles, the last one for perhaps quite some time.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would tell them.
It was Christmas, after all.
______________________________________
Word Count: 854
((Avalon saves Christmas by not giving her family hard news, but ruins the morning after!))
