31_days | [Sept 5th] [Original Short Story] Questions

Title: Questions

Day/Theme: September 5th /A winter morning just like any other

Series: Original

Character/Pairing: Rayella Lathay, her son Taym Lathay, her daughters Marya and Ina Lathay, and Ina's friend, Terysa

Rating: PG

Questions

The day dawned cold and clear. Snow blanketed the streets below and the inhabitants of the house all took shelter by the fire in the parlour. Rayella sat in a rocking chair, reading through a pile of letters that all said the same thing. 'No, haven't seen him. Haven't found him. Missing in Action. Presumed Dead.' She was almost beginning to believe them.

Taym, ten years old, was sprawled on his stomach facing the fire, a book open before him. It had been a gift from some official at the Shayla Bank, and now it was his most treasured posession. The tale transported him from the cold, stark city he lived in, so recently torn apart by war, carrying him to a tropical land of princesses who never smiled and genies trapped in lamps. He let the heat of the fire warm his face, pretending that he rode a camel through an unending desert, and for a moment was happy.

Marya, eight, sat in a smaller chair beside her mother, practicing her embroidery. Studiously, painstakingly, the little girl worked on forming the letters of the alphabet that would serve as border to this sampler. Rayella had told her time and again that living in the city as they now did meant that she had to grow up even more the fine young lady. The men who would one day be competing for her hand would be of such a fine caliber, of course they would need a wife accomplished in all she should be! So, dreaming of someday balls and parties and wealth and good standing, the girl struggled to perfect her embroidery.

Rayella wanted Ina, her younger daughter, to learn these skills, too, but as Ina was only five now and had never shown the slightest inclination for them, so she supposed she'd concern herself with Ina's education later. And Terysa, she supposed, would have to learn, too. But teaching these girls, who could hardly be bothered to sit still most of the time, was not a task she looked forwards to. For now, she was content to let them play outside.

The aforementioned Ina, bundled up in scarves and a shawl and boots and a hat, walked down the street with her friend. Terysa let her bright red curls hang loose under her knit cap. Ina absentmindedly played with one of her brown braids. "Say, Tery, where are we going?" she asked.

Tery, seven, shrugged. "Out," came her terse reply.

"We're already out," Ina told her, then, "Mama said we shan't go too far!"

"We won't."

Ina nodded, not sure what to say for a moment. Speaking the first thought that came to mind, she told her friend, "I love snow."

"It's nice."

"Don't you?"

"It's nice."

Ina sighed. "Tery, why don't you say things anymore?"

"What do you want me to say?" Tery turned to face the younger girl.

"I don't know. It's just... I remember, you used to... laugh and giggle, when we used to play, back in the village," Ina tried to explain. "And now you don't."

"We were different people back then," Tery told her.

"Sometimes I don't remember it," Ina murmured. "I only remember some little things, like being held in Papa's arms, and... and there was a festival, wasn't there? There was a girl with white hair..."

"People don't have white hair, what are you talking about? Well, unless they're old. Was she old?"

"Younger than Mama."

"Sinea Isenna, you mean? Her hair's not white. It's very light, though. More blonde than I'd seen before. Her wedding?"

"I think so. I don't remember. Why don't I remember things?" Ina cried petulantly.

Tery shrugged. "I remember too much."

"Tell me what you remember?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's a secret."

"Awwww!" Ina whined. "Why's it like that?"

Tery said nothing, just kept on walking, so Ina asked another question. "Do you think my father is dead?"

"I don't know."

"Mama says that Shayla told her he was, but she says she doesn't believe it."

"She didn't see him die," Tery pointed out.

"But if he's dead he's dead and if he's not he's not! There's not maybe!" Ina cried, then, "Does dead mean gone away forever?" Tery nodded; Ina continued. "How long is ever?"

"You're stupid," Tery snapped.

"Tery, you're so mean!" Ina cried. She turned around and announced, "We should go in."

"I don't want to."

"Where do you want to go then?"

"I don't CARE!"

"Mama said not to go beyond where she could see us and we've passed the house so long ago! I'm going back, whether you come or not!"

Tery sighed and followed her younger friend back home.

It was just an ordinary winter morning, an ordinary day, the way things went now. Six months after the country had fallen to the conquering king and their village had been decimated, along with so many others. Children who had seen too much and had understood none at all, this was the new normal.

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