Enjoy!
....
“Gattlinian, your lunch is ready,” Asabet called, her voice croaking.
Verdeyan sat cross-legged on the floor beside Aspen, trying vainly to entice him into opening his mouth long enough to get a bite of broiled possum inside.
“Ya da da,” he cooed, his tiny teeth flashing in a one-sided grin.
“Please, just try it,” Verdeyan begged him, raising both her eyebrows to stress her earnestness.
He continued to babble, mimicking her facial expression.
“See?” She ate a piece of the meat, which had nearly disintegrated in her fingers. It was bland, un-spiced, and cooked to the point of falling apart.
“Wench! That is my son’s food. You go neaten my room, but clean your hands first, I don’t want you touching my things with your grimy fingers,” Jonalla called from the doorway, crooking an eyebrow at the disheveled teenage girl who sat beside her infant son.
Verdeyan narrowed her eyes, staring at the floor.
“No food until you learn to obey,” Jonalla declared, shoving Verdeyan with her foot as she walked by.
“Agh!” she groaned as a shockwave of pain sliced through her wing and back where Jonalla’s foot had hit her.
“Don’t complain so. Now get up!”
Staggering, Verdeyan struggled to her feet, ducking to avoid a blow that Jonalla directed at her head. She scrambled up the stairs, grunting from the strain.
Tears pooled in her eyes, which she clawed at with her knuckle, as if to stamp away the hidden pain within.
Below her, she could hear Gattlin’s footsteps in the doorway, as he spoke to Jonalla.
“Where’s Verdeyan?”
“I sent the lazy wretch upstairs to clean. A stupid girl—she can’t even feed Aspen.”
Gattlin sighed audibly “Whatever you say,” he replied as he turned to go up the stairs.
Verdeyan shrank into the corner on the landing as he approached, trembling, silently crying.
“Shh,” he whispered, taking her hand in his ever so gently, guiding her up the stairs into Jonalla’s chamber.
“Please, tell me, what is wrong,” he said softly, his hazel eyes meeting hers.
She pressed her eyes shut, turning her face to the wall.
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” she replied, her voice breaking.
“If you are sure.”
With that, he left the room, returning to the first floor to eat with Asabet.
………..
Tearfully, Verdeyan went about the room.
“Don’t touch my things with your filthy-“she slammed an empty basin onto the bedside table—“hands!”
“Filthy hands, says she! Filthy hands!”
She had spent the entire morning catering to Jonalla’s every whim, nevermind the fact that her entire body ached and her injured wings needed care.
“Wench!” Jonalla howled.
Hurriedly, Verdeyan ran down the stairs, creating a loud series of thumps as her feet hit the wooden steps.
“There you are. You are to sit with my mother while I go out. And don’t even think of touching our food. Because I will check when I return, girl.”
She slammed the front door behind her, leaving Verdeyan and Asabet alone in the house.
“Come sit here, child,” Asabet called.
Puzzled but hardly protesting, Verdeyan complied, sinking to the floor beside the old woman.
“Now,” Asabet said, her shaking hands thrusting a cluster of berries towards Verdeyan.
Verdeyan eyed these suspiciously.
Was this a test? Jonalla had just declared in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t to touch their food.
“Well, child, are you going to eat them or look at them?”Asabet laughed, dropping the berries into Verdeyan’s trembling fingers.
Asabet smiled, continuing, “I suppose you now feel acquainted with my family. Jonalla is the oldest, and as you must know, quite bitter. She always has been. And Gattlin, oh, Gattlin is a wanderer.”
Verdeyan didn’t respond, still stuffing the berries into her mouth. Her eyes narrowed pensively as she licked her fingers, the tangy-sweet taste of the berries lingering on her lips.
“As you say,” she replied.
“My children weren’t always quite like this. Nor was I—”she broke off coughing.
“I wonder what my family is now,” Verdeyan mused darkly, her voice ragged with pain.
“Jonalla was once a little less bitter. She was in love with a young man, who promised her the life of a queen. He slept with her and then ran away, to join the Vahlein’s army. He was stabbed through the heart by a warrior from the Collimni tribe. They brought her back the spear. Jonalla grieved over it for weeks.”
“Aye, ten years ago, Jonalla was about your age, child, and Gattlin a tiny thing. We lived eighteen score of miles south of New Locher, in Mylin. A beautiful flat overlooking the city, in the boughs of the great Elm…” she sighed, “But that was before Jorso died. Jorso was my husband, and my children’s father. Gattlin was only five when the accident happened. I grew up in Mylin. We left twelve years ago during the time of raids in the area. We’ve been here in this drafty old tree ever since.” Asabet’s face formed a wan smile as memories flitted through her mind, and turned her face to Verdeyan.
“That’s…that must be a…pleasant thought,” Verdeyan replied, lowering her face into her hands.
“The past is filled with both sorrow and joy for anyone. But the present is the only thing worth worrying over.”
Verdeyan shook her head, saying “What do you want from me? Just tell me. Or leave me be.”
“Just sit, child. I want nothing at this moment.”
Verdeyan sighed, begging herself not to cry, but the tears slipped out, which she let fall. Quietly, Asabet put her wrinkled hand on Verdeyan’s shoulder, a distant look occupying her face as she sat in silent companionship with the tearful girl.
……
Thakns for reading!
-Voxina

