A blog dedicated to fictional short stories and role-playing across a spectrum of video-games and fantasy worlds.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Carrying a Burden

The door to the balcony crashed open as Biara stormed through it. A muttered spell slammed it behind her, sealing her off from the rest of the tower. Wind whipped around the balcony, stirring Biara's dress and her hair as she walked quickly to the railing that surrounded the large space. Below her a view of Silvermoon unfolded, breathtaking in its beauty. Biara barely noticed as she blinked tears from her eyes.

How DARE she?! How dare Captain Duskblade defy me like that? In front of a member of another House?! Does she WANT me killed?

Morass Duskblade simply didn't understand. It was painfully obvious to Biara now. She didn't realize that every word, every subtle gesture made between two nobles spoke volumes about the position of their House and their status within the city. She didn't realize that when one Magistrix met another, there was always an underlying competition for power and station. Every moment, every word, every gesture had to be carefully measured and weighed. Any hint of weakness or sign of hesitation could cost a House power, position, and in some cases could result in the death of the weak.

Biara shook her head and sighed. She had managed to save face with House Sha'Qelas, but only just barely. If the young noble that had been accosted by Lord Sunsong and Captain Duskblade complained to her elders..Biara would have hell to pay trying to undo the political damage. She felt a heavy weight in her chest as she thought back to the confrontation.

I dismissed Captain Duskblade. I shouldn't have done it, but she forced my hand. What else could I have done?!

Biara shook her head, trying to clear it. Behind her the door opened slowly, and a servant stepped onto the balcony, clearing his throat. Biara turned and he walked towards her, bearing a letter and a bottle of Moonplum Brandy. She took both from him and waited for him to leave, ensuring that he closed the door and gave her the privacy she needed. She slowly unfolded the letter, which was covered with Vomher Wyrmcurse's rather sloppy script.

As Biara read the letter her expression grew more and more strained. By the time she'd gotten to the bottom of the letter where Vomher's angry accusations trailed off into almost unintelligible gibberish of anger, she was pale as a ghost and shaking. The letter slowly tumbled from her slender fingers, drifting gently down to the stonework of the balcony. It sat there, almost accusing her. Another friend telling her how very awful she was. Another barb shot into her for no reason.

Biara hurled the full bottle of Moonplum Brandy to the stones of the balcony, watching the glass shatter and the liquid inside splatter all over. A shard of glass flew up and cut one of her hands, leaving a red line in her skin. She stared at it dumbly for a moment before her emotions overwhelmed her. She slowly sank to her knees, her red dress pooling around her on the stones. She buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly.

After a time, her wracking sobs slowed and she managed to catch her breath. One of her hands went up to her neck and pulled out a necklace that contained the emblem of House Dayfire on it. The seal of her House felt heavier than it normally did, as if what it represented could be phyiscally felt. She rolled it between her fingers, feeling the sigil of the burning sun running along her fingertips.

She quietly whispered, "Father, is this what you faced each day? How did you do it? How did you manage to be such a good Quel'dorei, when every day your very heart was torn from your chest? I don't know if I will ever have even half the strength you do to carry on. I don't know if I can be who you were, or who you would have wanted me to be."

She fell silent for a moment, staring at the emblem with her tear-streaked vision. "I don't know if you would even know your own daughter. I don't know if you would be proud of me, or loathe me like I loathe myself at times. I wish you were here to guide me, to do what was right so that I would know the way. I'm so sorry father."

She let the emblem drop back into the boddice of her dress, the tears pouring down again. She crumpled to the stone and buried her face in her arms, her hair spread out around her, the spilled brandy making a sparkling pool beside her as she cried herself to sleep.

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