Otherworldly - A Shadowed Awakening

Break of Autumn, Week 3, Day 7

The morning found me slowly, and I greeted it with a stretch of my arms and a wiggle of my toes. Gently, I shifted in the bed, rolling over onto my stomach and away from the three knitted animals lined up and pressing against my side. It was a late night, and it found me with several yards of woven fabric. It was still early outside. There was barely a crack of light filtering in through the curtains, but my eyes were coated in grime from how deeply I slept, so I slid the rest of the way out of the bed and quietly made my way to the bathroom. Washing the sleep from my eyes, I took in my disheveled appearance. Hair stuck out from my braids in the joints of the weave, and my nightgown was crumpled –my stockings were loose around my ankles, and I had red marks on my arms from where I slept on bunched-up bits of the sheets. Despite the brevity of my sleep, it was satisfying, and I felt refreshed. At some point in the night, I had run out of mana to run [Shadow Manipulation] and switched to weaving by hand –not on the fabric, but on another project. My fingers were still stiff from the repetitive movement.

Undoing my braid, I ran my fingers through my hair, untangling any knots I found with gentle ease. It was a light morning, where the dark thoughts that often haunted me were absent. My anger was quelled, my grief silenced, it was a soft morning where I wasn’t quite content, but I wasn’t a malcontent either.

>You shouldn’t have done that last night.<

“You can’t even give me half an hour?” I grumbled, my not-quite-good mood dashed.

>You represent the Dawns. What you say reflects on the family.<

“You are a miserable woman,” I ground out.

>Miserable or not, you know I’m right.<

All I had to do was bear it for another few minutes. She’d run out of steam. The uncongenial Eunora in my head only had a limited amount of communication in her –and she was terrible at moderating it, so all it took was a bit of goading, and I could run her dry first thing in the morning.

“Fine, what would you have me do, then? Allow a Baroness to steamroll the opinions of a daughter of the Dawn?”

>I would have you be respectable and choose your battles. Not just let your anger get the best of you.<

“Well,” I sighed, beginning to re-braid my hair –this time in a loose rope braid that I could do mindlessly, “If that’s what you think happened, you should re-examine the situation.”

>I will not be steered away from fact, you ungrateful, ignoble, irritating child.<

I swallowed, bearing with what always followed: a string of insults that only got more colorful as time passed. This is why the old Eunora wasn’t able to get a foothold in my psyche. She grew up repressed and soft, then became warped and angry. And she feels I am ruining her life. Or, rather, what her life would have been. Well, that, and instead of being a source of solid information, she chose to scold me. Perhaps, if she could have let go of her resentment, this would be more akin to symbiosis than the parasitic relationship we currently suffer from. Although, the same could be said of me. If I was willing to give in, to compromise my sense of self, to acknowledge that the Eunora in my head is very much the voice of the Eunora I killed, maybe we could have gotten along. That was what Scylla wanted, though. Which meant it was something I could never condone. Scylla was just another Divine that saw fit to destroy my sense of self. That decided my life was a game. Another monster worshipped as a God.

In the meantime, I washed my face and got dressed for the day. Something easy to run in, something that flowed and felt soft against my skin. It was a set of pants and suspenders with a soft lavender shirt adorned with soft purple shining buttons engraved with rising suns. As I buttoned my neck, Eunora finally ran out of fuel. I was free of her voice.

Until the next time I wake up. I bit my lip in frustration. That was hardly a reprieve.

I slid into well-worn boots, laced them up, grabbed a cross-body bag large enough for Noir, and opened the door to head out. As I did so, I caught sight of Sir Limrick surveying the hall. His eyes were flicking from door to door and from end to end of the hall that connected my room to the rest of the Perry Manor.

“Lady Nora,” he greeted me with a nod of his head, and I returned his soft expression with a small smile.

“Sir Limrick,” I replied. I made my way past him, and he followed a step behind me. His eyes never stopped roaming the hall, looking for hidden danger. I wondered how high his Perception was. Was it as high as mine? Higher? I had 105. What did that really mean?

It was as we were descending the stairs that I asked.

“What time are you headed out?”

Sir Limrick frowned, “Within the hour. I’m not sure if I will be accompanying the main contingent, though.”

I blinked.

“Why not?”

Sir Limrick let the question hang for several seconds before opening his mouth, “They are inexperienced. They should not have taken you so close to the wall.”

I felt another smile grow before I realized what that would mean. Sir Limrick would be one less knight fighting the blights. One less order of protection. Sure, he would be safe with me –and I with him. But the rest of the knights would be exposed to more danger. The people of Perry would be put in an even more precarious situation. The Lady Perry would have yet more ammunition to call the knights incompetent. Lesser.

Was it selfish to keep him? When I knew the town would likely not pose a threat? When I could simply stay further within the walls?

“You should go,” I said it gently, my voice low. But I could hear Sir Limrick’s armor still. I turned to see him stiff as a board, staring intently at me.

“I mean it,” I turned back around, continuing down the staircase, “We’ll stay with the Perry guards today. I’d rather you’re there to support the others.”

There was silence. It wasn’t until my heel landed on the final step that he spoke.

“As the Dawn commands.”

Breakfast was a silent affair with the Perrys, the tension from the night before ever present. Until Lady Perry's composed voice filled the room.

“Oh, Lady Eunora,” she demurred, “How did you sleep? I see your braids are as beautiful as ever.”

As she spoke, I was staring at the centerpiece of the table. It was a golden statuette of a woman with long flowing robes and the iconic body chains that accompanied the priests. She held a dagger to her neck, and where the blood would have spilled, sparkling gems created the illusion of flowing liquid. Eventually, I let my eyes stray from the centerpiece I was meticulously cataloging. My gaze landed on the forced smile of Lady Perry.

It had to be forced. She had no reason to smile at me –not after the night before. My emotions were muddled as I realized what Lady Perry was trying. I was both tired of the idea that she was posturing and irritated that she had flipped her approach so hastily. I wish I could say it brought me some sense of satisfaction to hear her attempt to get back into my good graces, to see the way Lady Jenny gave me pleading eyes and seemed to be embarrassed by her mother –or at the very least accepting of the fact that Lady Perry had made a faux pas.

But, as the night before, I was not in a forgiving mood.

“I slept fine, Lady Perry.” It wasn’t sharp, not quite. I didn’t really think a child’s voice could be sharp. But it was decidedly cold.

Thus, the tension refused to abate, even at Lady Perry’s attempt to clear the air. I would not let it go. The stress of the unknown was festering inside Lady Perry. I could feel it in the stilted way she moved. In the tightness of her shoulders. In the lines on her brow. She was not comfortable. And all it took was withholding my approval.

It was due to the simple fact of my name. Dawn. She must have had a reality check the night before. She was a Baroness of a small territory. I was a child of the Dawn.

“Tell me, what are your plans for the day?” Lady Perry took a sip of juice when she was finished speaking, immediately wiping away the non-existent excess from her lips with a napkin.

I contemplated telling a lie, but I needed a Perry guard. I’d told Sir Limrick I would drag some around in addition to Klein and Arlen.

“Just exploring the town some more,” I said before shooting a glance at Lady Jenny. I didn’t want to ask for guards. Not from this family of malcontents. So I didn’t. I ordered it.

“I’ll need three of your guards to accompany me alongside my knights. See that they’re ready before the Knights of the Dusk head out.”

I watched as Lady Perry meticulously straightened her silverware, then took a single lock of her crimson hair and tucked it back where it belonged.

“Of course, my Lady. Your will be done.” Her smile was as tight as her shoulders, but she wasn’t nearly as cold as the day before –so it was a mild success. Until, “I’ll be sure Lady Jenny is ready to show you around once again.”

Reject it. Reject it! I hissed internally before outwardly giving a small, plastic smile.

“Wonderful.” It came out almost as a sigh of defeat before I caught myself and strengthened my voice.

Across from me, Lady Jenny straightened. Her eyes flew up to meet her mother’s, but Lady Perry was fixated on me. I didn’t want to spend another day trapped with the same girl who went out of her way to ignore my questions and sidestep my offers of friendliness –if not friendship. Still, I wasn’t about to be rude to a child.

The next hour passed slowly, with a prolonged breakfast and an agonizing conversation with the Perry ladies that felt more like pulling teeth than an actual conversation. But, eventually, I found myself saying farewell to my knights once more. I was standing in the safety of the town, and they were headed off into danger unknown. As I watched the members of the Dusk shrink into the forest, I had Klein on one side and Arlen on the other. Flanking us were the Perry guards, and off to the side stood Lady Jenny.

In the end, it was us yet again.

I turned my back away from the town gate and began heading back toward the town square. I had seen a cafe the day before, and I’d rather take a cup of tea from a nice shop than head back to the Perry Manor and suffer through some sort of thinly veiled threat or interrogation.

“Where are you headed?” Lady Jenny said as she caught up to me, making space between me and Arlen.

I stopped walking and turned to the girl next to me, taking in the timid look on her face and the way one hand gripped her skirt.

“We don’t have to talk, Lady Jenny,” I said it unkindly. I know I did. But it had been a long morning, and it was barely past nine.

Silence met me.

“Just Jenny is fine.”