The same crazy clatter of noise filled the dining hall in waves of energy. Despite the thick, suffocating smoke and obnoxious stench of alcohol Asrai found a certain charm about the place that her siblings apparently did not recognize. To her, the chaos was a good distraction from aching thoughts in her mind and the secrets she guarded so very hard. The fools in this place were easy to play along with. Any time she lost sight of how to act, the little blond girl looked to her townspeople and mocked their tomfoolery from an adolescent angle that, so far, everyone seemed to believe. Her adopted brothers and sisters were used to it by now; they had no ability to suspect that she was any different.
"Oh no, Mar. Lucas is already pretty feminine. If I'd been painting him I probably would have tried to make him look a little more masculine." A pocket of giggles poured from her shaking abdomen as she listened to the banter between her two brothers. Having been sandwiched between Marius and Yumi, little Asrai took a moment to lean into Mar's side and whisper too loudly for her intentions to have been secrecy. "I'm starting to think the girls around here only like him because he's as pretty as their dollies. Maybe Wolf should give him a battle scar or two when he returns." They all knew how tense the two eldest brothers' relationship has become over the years. But usually only Asrai liked to make a joke out of it.
And just like usual she bounced to the attention of another sibling, seeming to forget the previous conversion she lingered on. She inched closer to Yumi's side, hovering just out of touching range in respect to her sister's preference for boundaries. The butterfly her sister spoke of seemed beautiful, and soon enough Asrai found herself itching to have seen the little thing. Maybe she could have painted it, and given the final canvas to Yumi as a gift. Yumi would have liked that. The young girl always softened when speaking of animals or nature - it was her weakness, or maybe her strength. Asrai looked seeing the private glint of wonderful happiness in her youngest sister's eye, and its novelty only propelled her to inspire it more often.
But before she could capitalize on the vulnerable moment, Lucas ruined it with one of his teasing remarks and a pat to Yumi's head. Stupid brothers. Lucas was particularly bothersome for Asrai to be around... Not really because of his attitude, but because of his suspicious behavior. Asrai paid more attention than she let on most days. And due to her own secretive nature, she had her suspicions about their second eldest sibling. Not that she would ever admit to any of it. Doing so would bring light to her own hidden qualities, and that was not ok. Definitely not ok.
She preferred Marius and Yumi as far as siblings went. Neither of them seemed that secretive. It wasn't like Yumi danced through the lime light; no, she seemed to prefer solitude. But her love for nature made the girl somehow softer and more approachable. Not to mention she was the closest to Asrai in age and slightly even appearance. Oddly enough, Asrai felt the desire and need to protect her sister... And maybe it was because Yumi wasn't afraid to show a bit of vulnerability around her family at times. She couldn't say the same for Sadi, though; that girl seemed to have her life together more than the rest of them and it bothered Asrai sometimes, if only because she wished Sadi would act less like a stranger and more like family.
Mar, on the other hand, treated everyone like family. The young boy was odd around people and he fidgeted a lot, but he was honest with his hobbies and made an obvious effort to keep the family together when Wolf wasn't around. She admired him for his ability to be earnest and not hide things. And if she was being honest with herself, Mar had been part of the reason why she picked up a book so many years ago and started reading. His passion affected people in a quiet way. Just by describing a story he read, Mar captured the attention of everyone at the table and even managed to pull Sadi out of her shell for a brief moment.
His passion brought a childish grin to Asrai's lips as she listened to his roundabout recount of the first story she ever cared to read. The storyline was familiar, and somehow nostalgia pinched her insides with an uncomfortable happiness. She would never admit her love of books or knowledge to the family, no, but that didn't keep her from responding excitedly to his earnest words. "Ne, it sounds really cool Mar. Well you read it to me some time?" That was safe to say, right? No one would suspect her if she feigned difficulty or distaste with reading a book on her own. Besides, it might be nice to hear a story from Mar's excited lips; maybe she would get lost in the story like he always seemed to do, rather than attaching to all the calculated details and recording them for later contemplation.
"Yeah! That would actually be a good time for family bonding! Read the book to all of us, will you, Mar...?"
She could have waited for a reply, but the sudden burst of crunching bone, breaking glass and screeching tables shut the talkative little girl right up. She'd been too absorbed in Mar to realize that the rest of their siblings were staring down the drunken bastard standing by the caretaker's side. She hasn't heard what the man said, but it must have been pretty horrible for the caretaker to respond in a violent manner. He was never violent or angry... Not even when she or the other kids disobeyed or spoke with an attitude or fought. Asrai didn't know how to react to his sudden change in character... it was mildly terrifying to realize that such a kind and harmless man could hide a monster inside of himself so convincingly. Then again, she more or less had been doing the same since day one at the orphanage. Asrai couldn't say much in this case.
But her own guilt did not make his outburst any more bearable. And the fact that he snapped back into tenderness so easily only chilled her that much more. She tried to resettle as he sat down and spoke of Wolf's letter, but Asrai couldn't keep her mind off the sound of crunching bone or the anger on her fake father's face as he stood over a drunk fool. Why couldn't she forget those little things? A letter from her big brother was more important than the thoughts she was having. She really adored getting letters from Wolf when he was away on business. Somehow when he wasn't here it was easier for Asrai to believe that he cared for her as much as he did the others. Wolf was the kind of guy that tried to bring everyone together, but even he had his favorites, and they didn't seem to include her that much. At least when he was gone she could pretend he was missing her. But her own lack of self-confidence made it difficult to believe such a thing when he was actually around.
Even so, she wished for his presence at that moment. Wolf would have made the caretaker's sudden outburst seem lighthearted. And he surely would have made what was about to happen far less difficult to handle. The thundering doors caught her attention, and her gaze slid too quickly to the bleeding body and crying horse for her sister to protect her. Even as Yumi's hands closed over her eyes, Asrai was bombarded with images of blood and broken arrows. She tried her best to block out what happened around her but little Asrai was too accustomed to sucking up the details of every situation. Every cry of pain, every muffled word of the caretaker pierced the bubble Yumi wrapped her in. What was happening to their paradise?
Too soon, the caretaker came back to them... But this time the unfamiliar emotion on his face did not disappear. He looked scared, terrified even, and the old man had no intention of hiding it. She clung to Yumi's hand as their makeshift father ushered them away, knitting them into a circle away from the bloody and horrible scene. So many questions raced through her mind, competing for time to be spoken, but the caretaker silenced them before any surfaced to her trembling lips. He told them he loved them, and the fear in his eyes made that remark believable for the first time. Which made things all the more horrible, because from her experience a person only shows their true colors at the very end of things. And the more he spoke, the faster she began to realize this was his good bye.
Asrai was shaking her head without realising it. Tears rimmed her watery blue and pink eyes, refusing to fall but building all the same. Somewhere in the distance a man called out a familiar name, and their father reacted in a way that told her it had been his own. But before she had the time to think about it he was shoving pouches of gold into their hands and saying his final farewell. Asrai wanted to reach out and cling to him. To change her face and beg forgiveness for putting him through so much pain. But all too soon she was being engulfed in a magical light that meant it was too late. Too late to say or do anything. His receding image fell away and so did she - tumbling endlessly through images she wanted to recognize but couldn't find the time to. All too soon her sight faded to black, not even the colors of her father's magic lasting long enough to sooth her into sleep.
"Foolish.... little girl playing dress up-"
"- did she even think...."
"Accept her?"
"....never."
The sun slowly invaded her mind like a small fire. Sparks danced behind her lids, tempting the child from her first true sleep in a very long time. Nightmares struggled to keep a hold on her mind, bending her body in the bed; turning her away from the golden light and convincing her that waking now was worse than death itself. And maybe it was. For when she finally awoke a bone-deep chill twisted her stomach into a knot that would probably never disappear. The feather-filled mattress she lay upon felt no more familiar than a slab of lifeless stone. Walls crumbled around her, letting in that horribly bright light that seemed to cheerful to fit the mess of fear and confusion she withheld in her slowly brimming tears.
Another bed lay not too far away, empty and abandoned. Alone. Just like her. Asrai reached for something to grasp and curl her small body around, but found nothing to satisfy the deep ache in her stomach. Instead she found the pouch of coins her father had left, and just the site of it was enough to snap her back into reality. This was meant to help her survive... because the caretaker could no longer protect her, or any one of them. Where were her brothers and sisters anyway? The remains of this collapsing house were clearly empty, which meant that she was probably the last to wake from their mutual nightmare. But she wouldn't know until she found them.
Crawling slowly from the bed, Asrai clapped the pouch of gold in her little hands and started toward a hole in the wall with shaking legs. Distantly the hum of wind and water played a peaceful song, and as she walked she found herself wanting to sing along. But her lips were too stiff to make a sound, so little Asrai wandered out to the fountain silently. Conveniently they had all gathered in a place she was naturally drawn too. Her siblings were all there, and though their backs were turned to her advancing form she could tell from their stiff postures that no one felt comfortable or safe. They were tense, silent. Until Mar burst into sudden noise, captivated by something she hasn't cared to look at quite yet. But the name he called out captivated her gaze, and soon enough the little girl was rushing to Mar's side, eyes widening as they caught site of the familiar man carved in that silly stone statute.
It was, indeed, Sir Rauvghen. The hero from Mar's book. But Asrai knew him by a different name... a familiar one, something she could never forget given her own unfortunate name. "Arias..." She murmured the word so silently no human would hear it... but who among them was actually human? It hadn't occurred to get the night before, no. With the chaos and confusion Asrai hasn't the time to place the name some man shouted in the caretaker's direction. But starting down this stupid song statute now made it impossible for her not to make the connection. Arias Rauvghen, the hero she'd secretly read about. The man depicted in this fountain. The man that refused to look her in the eyes every day of her known life. Their father, their protector. And he was gone now.
Mar went on to rant and rave about the valiant Sir Rauvghen; meanwhile Asrai crumpled to the ground, beside the water-filled fountain that so called to her. With shaking hands and suffocating breath she pulled herself to the edge and peered down into the crystal clear reflection of her tear streaked face. Two diamonds detached from her eye lashes and crashed into the still surface of the water fountain. For the shortest moment her reflection cracked, fracturing into a million different pieces - a million different faces - none of which would ever truly belong to her. And in the next moment that mirror resettled on her stolen face, marking the betrayal she made to the stone of a man that towered above her. Sitting on the edge of that fountain, Asrai felt like a girl in a picture frame again. All she could do was fall into the water and disappear, like the pastel colors on her charred canvas.
She reached, then. Fingertips extending toward the water, just waiting for a hand to pop out and pull her in. But would her past arise in time to pull her under, or would the familiar strangers of her present tug her back in time to keep that little girl in her picture frame?