#Boris Drew | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qftimsu · 1 month ago

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Chapter One: A day in Ogla.

Mama Maria moved steadily around the ring, her crimson eyes flicking over each girl with a quiet intensity. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be as ready as the others, but I knew better. She never picked me. Not once had I been chosen to stand in the arena. The other girls didn't even try to hide their resentment—they hated me for what I was: the only Angel among them.

Daisy stood in the center of the arena, her smirk wide and obnoxious, like she already knew she’d win. Mama hesitated, scanning the girls, struggling to choose someone worthy to face Daisy. I straightened my back, trying to hold a stance of confidence. Daisy was tall, her demon form intimidating next to mine, but I wasn’t about to back down. I was more than ready to fight her.

“Azael.”

Her voice rang out, breaking the heavy silence. My eyes snapped open in shock. Every other girl in the room let out a collective breath of relief—all relieved one of them wasn't chosen. The whispers had already started: how I was too weak, how I’d lose in seconds. But I didn’t let it shake me. I scrambled to my feet as Mama’s gaze hardened. I stood as straight as I could and bowed.

“Thank you, Mama. I’m ready.”

Each girl parted to the side as I stepped toward the arena. Their eyes followed me, heavy with doubt, but I kept my chin high and strode forward onto the black, soft mat. From the crowd, I heard my sister’s voice calling out to wish me luck. A flicker of warmth steadied my resolve.

Daisy waited for me, a grin curling her lips. She chuckled softly, bowing first. Her movements were sharp and dismissive, a mockery of the gesture’s respect. There was no promise of fairness in her stance, only the glint of pride. I met her gaze and bowed in return, my movements deliberate, unshaken.

We both shuffled our heels back, settling into our positions. My clawed feet dug into the mat, grounding me, and I tightened my grip on the worn staff in my hands. Daisy mirrored the motion, her fingers curling around the sleek, glimmering metal rod she carried. Mama stepped between us, her hand raised like a barrier, commanding silence.

“On my count,” she said, her voice steady and firm.

The air in the arena seemed to thicken as we waited. My stance solidified, muscles coiled, breath steady. Daisy’s smirk hadn’t wavered, but her eyes sharpened. She was ready to pounce.

“Commence!” Mama shouted.

Daisy sprang forward, her rod whistling through the air in a blur of silver. I moved instinctively, bringing my staff up to meet her strike. The crack of wood against metal echoed through the arena, sharp and resonant. The force jolted through my arms, but I held firm, shoving her back with a quick push.

Her smirk deepened as she spun her rod, the light catching its polished surface. She lunged again, faster this time, aiming low. I sidestepped, pivoting on my back foot, and countered with a swing of my own. She parried, and the clash rang out once more, a battle of speed and precision.

Each strike sent vibrations rippling up my arms, but I didn’t falter. My focus narrowed to the rhythm of our movements, the ebb and flow of attack and defense. The crowd’s murmurs faded to a distant hum, and the only sounds that mattered were the rapid breaths and the crack of our weapons colliding.

Gasps from the other girls filled the room, accompanied by a few sharp cracks as our staffs met again and again. Mama shouted corrections at me when I missed an opening, her voice cutting through the air. Daisy, ever the provocateur, teased me each time I heeded Mama’s warnings, her taunts stoking the fire in my chest.

We traded strikes, neither of us landing a decisive blow, until Daisy’s rod snapped against my chin. Pain flared through my jaw, and I stumbled back, struggling to regain my balance.

“Azael, duck!” Mama’s voice jolted me. I glanced up just in time to see Daisy’s staff hurtling toward me. Instinct kicked in, and I rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding the strike. Frustration flashed across Daisy’s face. Spotting an opening, I lunged forward, aiming my first solid strike. She blocked it with ease, our staffs cracking together as we found ourselves face to face.

Daisy smirked, her expression taunting. She leaned in closer, her voice low and venomous. “That’s right, be a good little Seraphim maggot and listen to your Mama.”

The words ignited something deep within me. My eyes widened, rage surging through my veins. That word—that stupid, godforsaken word—seared into my mind. She stared at me like I was beneath her, her smirk oozing contempt.

With a sharp snarl, I yanked my staff back and drove it into her stomach. Daisy groaned, doubling over as the air rushed from her lungs. Seizing the moment, I followed with an uppercut, the wood connecting solidly under her chin. She stumbled and fell backward, the silver rod she held clattering to the ground. The room erupted in the other girls gasps.

Fueled by fury, I pinned her to the mat, my staff pressed against her chest.

“Enough! You won,” Mama called, her voice sharp and commanding. The haze of anger lifted, and I released Daisy, stepping back as the other girls rushed to her side.

Daisy, regaining her strength, lashed out with a kick that sent me stumbling. She rose unsteadily, her glare burning with bitter resentment. Without another word or nasty glare, she stomped off, a group of girls trailing after her.

I stood alone in the arena, my hands trembling as I clenched them. Lifting my staff, I let out a slow, steadying breath. Victory was mine, but I was embarrassed, too. I can’t believe I lashed out like that in front of everyone.

The crowd began to disappear, and most of the girls retreated home already. My sister approached, her face lit with pride.

“You did it, Azael!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and full of warmth. “I knew you could.”

Her words were a balm, soothing the lingering tremors in my hands. I offered her a weak smile, still processing what had just happened.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. Mama stepped forward, her crimson eyes fixed on me with a mixture of approval and something unreadable. She placed a firm hand on my shoulder, her grip grounding.

“You fought well, Azael,” she said, her voice low but carrying weight. “But control your anger. Strength without discipline is dangerous.”I nodded, her words settling heavily on my shoulders. There was no mistaking the lesson in her tone. This victory wasn’t just about beating Daisy; it was about proving I could hold my ground without losing myself.

“Yes, Mama,” I replied, determination flickering within me.

As she turned to address the other girls, my sister tugged at my arm. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said, her tone lighter.

I followed her toward the side of the arena, glancing back briefly. Daisy was gone, but the weight of her taunt lingered. I wouldn’t forget the way she looked at me, the venom in her words. This fight was over, but the battle for respect had only just begun.

Brin brought an ice pack up to my chin without warning, and I hissed at the stinging sensation as it pressed against the tender spot. The sharp ache was a reminder of Daisy’s solid first hit, and I winced despite my best efforts to stay stoic.

“Sorry... does it hurt?” my sister asked, pulling back slightly as if worried she’d made it worse. Her wide eyes shimmered with concern, a stark contrast to the cold air of the arena.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “No, it’s fine. Go ahead.” My words were firm, but I could see her hesitation. Brin wasn’t easily convinced, her brows furrowing slightly as she adjusted her grip on the ice pack.

“Are you sure? You’re tougher than me, but that looked like it hurt.” She leaned in a little closer, her voice softening. I offered her a quick grin, brushing a hand over the scrape forming on my chin. “It takes more than that to keep me down. Daisy’s good, but she’s not unbeatable.”

Brin smiled faintly at my confidence, though the worry didn’t completely leave her face. “Still, maybe let me hold this a little longer. You’ve earned a moment to rest.”I sighed but nodded and let my eyes flutter shut, allowing her to press the ice pack back into place. The cold seeped into my chin where I’d been struck, numbing the throbbing ache just a little.

“You know...” Brin began, her gaze falling to her lap. The sound of her voice drew my attention, I opened my eyes and gazed at her, curious. “I wish I was strong like you,” she mumbled, her tone soft but laced with sincerity. Her fingers fidgeted with the fabric of her shorts, a nervous habit I recognized all too well.

I studied her expression for a moment, just letting her words sink in. Brin was never one to say somehting so bluntly. Her vulnerability caught me off guard, and I found myself setting my staff aside, giving her my full attention.

“Brin, you are strong,” I replied, my voice gentle but firm.

She shook her head, her dark hair falling into her face. “I’m not,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “You take all of this—the fights, the taunts, the pressure—and you don’t let it break you. You keep going like none of it touches you. I... I can’t do that.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. I reached out, placing a hand on hers. “That doesn’t make me strong at all,” I said softly. “I feel it all, too—the doubts, the anger, the pain. But strength isn’t about ignoring those things. It’s about pushing forward anyway.”

Brin looked up at me, her brows furrowed with worry “I don’t know if I can be like that” she whispered, a frown finding its way onto her soft face. “I wanna be like you, but sometimes I feel scared.”A small smile tugged at my lips. “I’m always scared too, Brin. And you don’t have to be like me,” I said. "You just have to be you. And trust me, that’s more than enough.”

I reached up to pinch her cheek, and tried to lighten the mood with a little joke. “Even if it means you’re a little sensitive.” I grin.

Brin jerked back, giggling despite herself. “Hey! No fair!” she protested, swatting at my hand

“Fair? In what world are you ever fair?” I shot back with mock indignation. “You’ve got me sitting here with an ice pack on my face, and you expect me to play nice?”

She laughed again, the sound soft but genuine, and it warmed something deep inside me. For a moment, the tension melted away, replaced by the kind of lightheartedness we so rarely got to enjoy.

“You’re impossible,” Brin said, rolling her eyes but smiling. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop babying you. Just don’t come crying to me when Daisy comes after you again.”

“Me? Crying?” I gasped dramatically, clutching a hand to my chest. “Brin, you wound me.” She shook her head, but her smile didn’t fade. “You know what? You’re right. You’re tougher than anyone gives you credit for. But don’t think for a second that I’ll stop worrying about you. That’s what sisters do.”

Her words, simple and earnest, struck a chord in me. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied softly. I leaned back, giving her a playful nudge. “Now, let’s go before mama decides to throw me back in the ring.”

Brin laughed, shaking her head as she stood. “Agreed. But don’t think you’re off the hook. I’ll be keeping an eye on that chin of yours.”

“Noted,” I said with a mock salute, rising to my feet and grabbing my staff. Together, we stepped out of the arena, but not without being stopped by mama first.

“Where are you two off to?” Mama said, her voice unusually soft. Brin swung around, smiling up at mama. “Just going out for a little, I wanna spend time with Azzy.” Brin says, punctuating her words by squeezing my hand.

Mama’s crimson gaze flickered between us, her expression calm yet thoughtful, as though she were reading something deeper in our shared gesture. “Well, don’t go too far, okay? And return with some ingredients for dinner, won’t you? We’ll need plenty if I’m to feed all these hungry mouths,” she added, her tone imbued with a warmth that softened her usual commanding presence. Yet, there was a playful glimmer of mischief in her eyes that made Brin giggle.

With a deliberate motion, Mama extended my staff toward me, her hand steady as she placed it firmly in my grasp. I hadn’t even noticed I’d left it behind, and the familiar weight of it was both comforting and grounding. My fingers curled around the worn wood, the grooves fitting perfectly into my grip as though reminding me of its necessity.

Brin gave Mama a small wave, her energy as bright as her smile, before tugging on my hand again. We’ll be back soon, promise,” she said with a cheerful lilt. Mama lingered for a moment, her expression softening into something almost wistful. Her eyes followed us as we moved toward the arena’s exit, her presence an unspoken reassurance, steady and watchful.

As we stepped into the cooler air outside, I glanced over my shoulder. Mama’s figure stood framed by the arena’s dim lighting, her crimson eyes glowing faintly. She seemed almost statuesque, a silent guardian over the lives she had shaped.

There was something unspoken in that moment, a quiet acknowledgment of her role in our chaotic, complicated family. I gave a subtle nod, more to myself than anyone else, before turning back to follow Brin into the evening’s fading light.

The path from the arena to our house was quiet, the sounds of the village muffled by the thick trees that bordered Mama Maria’s property. Brin walked beside me, her fingers lightly brushing the leaves that hung low along the path. “You think Audrey’s finished cleaning yet?” Brin asked, her tone light.

I shrugged. “If not, she’ll definitely rope us into helping. You know how she is.”Brin giggled, fiddling with a leaf she plucked off a tree. “Maybe Boris will distract her long enough for us to escape after we get a basket.”

I smile, and let a chuckle past my closed lips. Our house came into view as we rounded the bend, its wooden walls bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, a sign that someone had been stoking the fire. As we approached, the door swung open, and Audrey stepped out, a rag in one hand and a determined expression on her face.

“Oh! Hey girls,” she said, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Where have you two been? Did training take longer than usual?” She joked, giving a chuckle.

“We’ve been busy,” I replied, smirking as I spotted Boris inside, he barreled past a few pots and latched onto Audrey’s leg with his tiny teeth. She yelped, shaking him off gently and scooping him up into her arms.

“Stop that mister!” she laughed, her stern tone softened by the smile tugging at her lips. Boris barked in response, wagging his tail furiously. Tzian appeared behind her, leaning against the doorframe with his usual air of effortless confidence. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his arms were dusted with flour, a sure sign he’d been baking or, more likely, helping a neighbor who’d begged for his assistance.

“Back so soon?” he drawled, crossing his arms. “I thought you’d still be licking your wounds from the arena.”

“Nice to see you too, Tzian,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t you have a flock of admirers to attend to?”

“Not until later,” he replied with a wink. “For now, I’m just here to supervise Audrey and make sure she doesn’t overwork herself.” Audrey snorted, setting Boris down on the ground. “You mean you’re here to stand around and take credit for my work.”

“Someone has to keep morale high,” Tzian quipped, flashing her a grin.

“Anyway,” Audrey interjected, turning her attention back to us, “Mama’s expecting the house to be spotless before she gets back. I still need to finish scrubbing the floors and preparing the table. Think you two can keep Boris entertained?”Brin’s face lit up. “We were about to head to the market. He can come with us! Right, Azzy?”

I hesitated, glancing at the puppy who was now busy chewing on the edge of the doormat. His youthful energy was boundless, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to wrangle him in the crowded market. But Brin’s hopeful expression and the thought of helping Audrey swayed me. “Sure,” I said, sighing. “Why not?”

Audrey gave me a grateful smile. “Thank you. And try not to let him eat anything he’s not supposed to. Mama will have my head if he gets sick.”

“No promises,” I muttered under my breath, earning a laugh from Tzian.

Boris barked again, his tail wagging furiously as Brin picked him up and twirled him around. “Come on, Boris! We’re going on an adventure!” she exclaimed, her laughter ringing out as she danced toward the gate.

“Oh, by the way,” I turned to Audrey, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face, “I might need a basket. We’re heading to the market, and you know how Brin gets with produce—if it’s not perfectly packed, she’ll spend half the time rearranging everything. Plus, Boris will probably try to chew on whatever we bring back, so we’ll need something sturdy enough to survive his teeth.”

Audrey laughed, raising a hand to cover her mouth. “Oh, yes, of course,” she said between giggles, stepping back into the house briefly before returning with a basket. She handed it to me with a flourish, the woven handle sturdy beneath my grip. “This should do nicely. Try not to lose it, though. Mama’s baskets are practically sacred around here.”

“Don’t be long!” Tzian called after us, his tone teasing. “We won’t!” I shot back, waving over my shoulder as Brin and I headed down the path with Boris in tow.

The market was a sprawling maze of vibrant stalls and bustling crowds, the heart of the village’s daily life.

The air was alive with the scent of fresh bread, ripe fruit, and the occasional waft of spices from the traveling merchants who had set up their temporary homes along the far edges of the square.

Brin darted ahead, her excitement palpable as she weaved through the throng of shoppers. Boris, with his boundless energy, raced on all fours to keep up, his tiny barks barely audible over the chatter and bartering around us.

“Brin, slow down!” I called after her, trying to navigate the crowd without losing sight of her ebony black hair that bobbed like a beacon. She turned back briefly, grinning mischievously before disappearing into the next row of stalls.

I sighed, shifting my focus to the stalls nearest to me. Rows of apples, golden and gleaming under the sunlight, caught my eye. The vendor, a cheery older man with a bushy beard, waved me over.

“Oh, hello Azzy! Looking for something sweet today?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting. “Just browsing,” I replied, though my hand lingered over one of the apples. Its skin was smooth, and the sweet aroma promised it would be as good as it looked.

“Take one,” he insisted, pressing the fruit into my palm. “On the house for Mama Maria’s girl. She’s always been good to us.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling as I tucked the apple into the basket. It wasn’t unusual for the villagers to offer small kindnesses in return for Mama’s unwavering generosity, but it never failed to warm my heart.

Further down, I found Brin haggling with a cloth vendor, her brow furrowed in concentration as she argued the merits of the fabric she had chosen. Boris sat at her feet, chewing on a stray thread, much to the vendor’s dismay.

“You’re not buying more fabric, are you?” I teased, approaching her. “We still have that bolt of blue you insisted on last time.”

“This is different,” she protested, holding up the fabric. It was a deep crimson, shot through with gold threads that shimmered in the sunlight. “Mama would love this for the festival.”

I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Brin’s flair for picking out the most extravagant items was unmatched, and I knew better than to argue.

As she finalized her purchase, Boris suddenly perked up, his nose twitching. He bolted toward a stall selling smoked meats, barking furiously as if he’d discovered a hidden treasure.

The vendor, a stout woman with arms like tree trunks, laughed heartily as she tossed him a small scrap. “He’s got good taste,” she said, smiling. “Better watch him, though, or he’ll eat you out of house and home.”

When the lady looked up to glance at me, her smile faltered, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. I had grown accustomed to it—the sideways glances, the fleeting hesitations. Some merchants here were warm and welcoming, their kindness extending from the respect they held for Mama Maria. Others… not so much. Their guarded expressions and quiet avoidance were a reminder that my Angel genes made me different, a distinction not everyone was willing to overlook.

“I’ll try,” I replied, quietly, scooping Boris up before he could cause more trouble. He wriggled in my arms, his tail wagging furiously as he tried to twist around for another look at the meats.

Brin must’ve caught the look the merchant gave me—that slight falter, the guarded expression—and she frowned, her usual cheer dimmed. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I’m used to it,” I replied with a shrug, forcing a small smile. Trying to lighten the mood, I added, “Hey, why don’t you and Boris pick out some meats? We’ll convince Audrey to cook up something special.”

Brin paused, hesitating for just a moment before carefully taking Boris from my arms. “Okay…” she said softly, managing a small, tentative smile. “When you’re sure about the one you want, call me,” I said, offering her an encouraging smile and giving her shoulder a reassuring pat. She nodded, her confidence returning, and wandered off toward the stalls filled with an assortment of fresh meats, Boris nestled in her arms and already craning his neck to sniff at the air.

As she disappeared into the crowd, I let out a quiet sigh and pressed my palms against my temples, trying to push away the tension creeping into my thoughts. The noise of the market swirled around me, a chaotic symphony of haggling voices, clinking coins, and distant laughter. For a moment, I allowed myself to sink into the temporary stillness of my own mind, shutting out the world around me.

But, of course, peace was fleeting. It shattered abruptly as a gratingly familiar voice cut through the din like a blade. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the cheater from this morning’s match,” came the mocking tone. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Daisy—her sharp words always carried that unmistakable sting.

I turned slowly, my jaw already tightening in irritation. Daisy stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, her usual smug expression plastered across her face. Her crimson hair was tied back in a haphazard braid, and her dark eyes gleamed with amusement as she regarded me. A small group of her friends hovered nearby, whispering among themselves but clearly watching for any drama that might unfold.

“Really, Daisy?” I said flatly, meeting her gaze with an unimpressed look. “Don’t you have better things to do than have you and your goons follow me around?”

She snorted, her smirk widening. “Follow you? Please. I just couldn’t resist saying hi to the market’s resident angelic disappointment.” Her words dripped with mockery, each one designed to poke at the fragile barrier of patience I was trying to maintain.

Behind her, one of her friends stifled a giggle, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Still, I forced myself to stay calm, though my grip on the basket I was holding tightened slightly. “Whatever,” I replied dryly. “You said hi. Now go find someone else to bother.”

Daisy’s grin only grew wider, as if she thrived on the resistance. “Oh, come on, Azzy. Don’t be so boring. Isn’t it tiring, always trying to be so… noble?” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. “You know you’re just wasting your time trying to fit in here. They’ll never really accept you. Especially not now, since you’re a cheater.”

The words struck a nerve, but I was also confused. I lifted my chin and met her gaze steadily. “What the hell are you even talking about?” I said, my eyes narrowing.

Daisy threw her head back at my question, turning to look back at her friends. “Oh, come on! Drop the act! Stop playing like you don’t know!”

“I know you used some kind of freaky angelic powers to win that battle against me this morning, didn’t you?” she snapped, her tone laced with anger and frustration. Her arms flailed slightly as she spoke, like she was physically trying to hurl her accusations at me.

I blinked, my brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you even talking about? I don’t have angelic powers, Daisy. You know that.” My voice carried a mix of irritation and genuine disbelief. Where was this even coming from?

“Oh, don’t give me that innocent act! All angels have powers!” Daisy shot back, stepping closer and jabbing a finger toward my chest. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Always acting like the perfect little angel. But I saw it. You didn’t win fair and square—you couldn’t have!” Her voice cracked slightly, the intensity of her frustration boiling over.

“I don’t even know what you think you saw,” I said, my voice rising slightly as my own irritation threatened to bubble over. “I beat you because… you just don’t know when to shut up and focus on battle.”

Daisy’s face contorted with anger, her cheeks flushing red as she lunged forward, grabbing the collar of my shirt. “You think you’re better than me? You’re nothing but a fraud, Azael! A half-breed who doesn’t even belong here.”

I stumbled as Daisy grabbed me, the venom in her words stung, and for a moment, I felt the familiar pang of fear creeping into my chest. But I shoved it down, meeting her glare with a steady resolve. “Believe whatever you want, Daisy. It doesn’t change the truth.”

Her lips curled into a snarl, and for a moment, I thought she might hit me. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, her dark eyes boring into mine with unrestrained fury. But before anything violent could erupt, an unexpected interruption shattered the moment.

“Brin! Wait up!” Daisy’s little sister, Oierio, skipped toward us with her usual boundless energy, her voice ringing out like a bell over the tense atmosphere. Clad in a patchwork dress that seemed as chaotic as her personality, Oierio tugged a small sack behind her, its contents clinking faintly. She must’ve spotted Brin earlier, lingering around the meat stalls, and decided to investigate.

The little girl’s arrival was like a gust of fresh air, cutting through Daisy’s simmering anger and my lingering confusion. Oierio stopped beside Brin, her round eyes lighting up as she caught sight of the scraps she held. “Brin, you’re always after the good stuff!” she exclaimed, crouching down to pat Boris on the head. The little pup wagged his tail eagerly, utterly oblivious to the standoff between me and Daisy.

Daisy’s scowl deepened as she glared at Oierio, who was now chatting animatedly about the best meats in the market. “Oierio,” Daisy snapped, her voice sharp enough to startle a nearby pigeon into flight, “What are you doing here? This isn’t a playground. I told you to stay by the entrance and wait for me.”

Oierio blinked up at her sister, unphased. “Helping, of course! Mama said to grab a few things for supper, but then I saw Brin sniffing around, and I thought—why not pick out something really tasty?” She grinned, holding up the sack as if it were a prize. “I even got a deal!”

Daisy pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath. For a brief moment, her irritation seemed to shift from me to her sister, though the storm in her eyes hadn’t entirely subsided. I took the opportunity to take a small step back, and tugged my shirt from Daisy’s grip.

Oierio, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, held up a small strip of smoked meat to Boris, who eagerly chomped down on it. “See? Even Boris approves!” She said triumphantly. Her laughter was infectious, and despite myself, I felt the corners of my lips twitch upward.

Daisy rolled her eyes dramatically, exhaling loudly before grabbing Oierio by the wrist with a sharp tug. “Come on, you idiot,” she barked, her tone dripping with impatience. As she turned on her heel, her movements were stiff, betraying her lingering anger.

Before storming off, she shot me one final, venomous glare, her dark eyes narrowing as if to etch her disdain into my memory. Oierio stumbled slightly under her sister’s firm grip but managed to wave awkwardly at Boris and Brin.

Brin waved back, and Boris barked in response, his tail wagging obliviously. The tension Daisy left in her wake lingered like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive. Daisy’s little worshippers stumbling behind her.

I stood there, my fists clenched tightly at my sides, the tension radiating through my arms. Brin’s gaze pierced me, her brow furrowed with concern. “What was that about?” she asked, her voice laced with both curiosity and unease as she bent down to scoop up Boris. For a moment, I didn’t answer, the words tangling in my throat. Finally, I muttered, “It’s nothing—really. I think we’ve got everything, so let’s just head home.” My tone was flat, but the unease bubbling beneath the surface betrayed me.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the village as we made our way out of the bustling market. The noise of haggling merchants and the chatter of villagers faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Brin walked ahead, her arms wrapped protectively around Boris, who had finally settled down after his escapades in the market. The little pup rested his head on her arm, his eyes half-closed, though his tail still wagged lazily. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she murmured to him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

I trailed behind, clutching the basket filled with our purchases. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying Daisy’s words over and over like a broken record. The accusation, the anger in her eyes—it all clung to me like a stubborn shadow. Brin glanced back, her gaze lingering on me with quiet concern.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked again, her voice softer this time.

I forced a smile, though it felt fragile and out of place. “Yeah,” I lied. “Just tired. The market’s always so chaotic.”

Brin didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she adjusted Boris in her arms and slowed her pace to walk beside me. “At least we got everything we needed,” she said, her tone deliberately light. “Mama’s going to love the fabric I found. Don’t you think the gold threads are perfect for the festival?”

I nodded absentmindedly, my gaze fixed on the path ahead. The village road stretched out before us, flanked by rows of quaint cottages with flower-filled gardens.

The familiar sights and sounds should have been comforting, but the weight of Daisy’s words lingered, turning the world around me dull and muted.

Boris let out a soft whine, drawing my attention. He wiggled in Brin’s arms, his tiny paws reaching out toward me. “Looks like someone wants you,” Brin said with a teasing smile, holding him out. I took the pup, cradling him against my chest. His warm, wriggling presence was oddly soothing, a small anchor in the storm of my thoughts.

As we approached the house, the comforting scent of wood smoke from the nearby chimneys filled the air. Brin reached the door first, pushing it open with her hip while still carrying the fabric she’d bought. Inside, the familiar coziness of home enveloped us—soft candlelight, the faint aroma of herbs hanging from the beams, and the distant hum of Audrey’s voice singing as she worked.

Boris squirmed out of my arms as soon as we stepped inside, darting off to explore the house. “Don’t cause trouble!” Brin called after him, though the affection in her tone made it clear she wasn’t really worried.

Audrey appeared from the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour and a smudge on her cheek. “Back already?” she asked, her brow lifting as she wiped her hands on her apron. “I was starting to think you two got lost.”

“Just the usual market madness,” Brin replied, setting her bundle down on the table. She shot me a quick glance before adding, “And a little extra drama.”Audrey’s gaze flicked to me, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Drama?” she repeated, crossing her arms.

“It’s nothing,” I interjected quickly, not wanting to relive the encounter with Daisy. “Just some nonsense from Daisy, as usual.”

Audrey frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s been picking fights with you again, hasn’t she?” she asked, her tone laced with quiet irritation. “That girl needs to learn some manners or something.”

“No, it’s okay I’m used to it at this point,” I said with a shrug, trying to downplay the situation. “Anyway, it’s over now. Let’s not dwell on it.”

Audrey didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it drop, turning her attention to Brin’s fabric. “What’s this?” she asked, running her fingers over the shimmering material.

“Something special for Mama,” Brin replied, her excitement returning. “For the festival.”

Audrey smiled, her expression softening. “She’ll love it,” she said. “You’ve got a good eye, Brin.”

The three of us spent the next few minutes unpacking the market haul, Boris occasionally darting underfoot in search of forgotten scraps. Despite the lingering unease from earlier, the familiar routine of home was a balm to my frayed nerves. Here, surrounded by family, the world outside felt a little less daunting.

But as I worked, my thoughts kept drifting back to Daisy’s words, to the simmering anger and the fear that had twisted in my chest. The memory clung to me, a reminder that no matter how much I tried to belong, there would always be those who saw me as an outsider. And in the quiet moments between laughter and conversation, I couldn’t help but wonder—how much longer could I keep pretending it didn’t matter?

The conversation drifted into talk of the festival, but my mind began to wander again. The memory of Daisy’s words pulled me under, and the weight of the villagers’ judgment pressed heavily on my chest. My family had always been my refuge, but even their unwavering support couldn’t erase the loneliness that came from being so different.

“Azzy?” Audrey’s voice snapped me back to reality. I blinked, realizing she was watching me closely, her brow furrowed in concern. “You spaced out for a second there. You okay?”

I hesitated, searching for the right words. “Yeah,” I said finally, offering a small smile that felt weak even to me. “Just… tired. The market was a lot.”

Audrey didn’t seem convinced, but she gave a small nod. “Alright. If you need to talk, you know I’m here.”

“I know,” I murmured, the warmth in her tone helping to chase away some of the lingering shadows.

Audrey didn’t press further, but the concern lingered in her eyes as she turned back to the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she called over her shoulder. “Brin, can you set the table? Azael, you’re on drink duty. Make sure Boris doesn’t knock anything over while you’re at it.”

I managed a small smile at her attempt to lighten the mood and headed to the cupboard to fetch the glasses. The familiar clinking of ceramic against wood and the soothing rhythm of setting the table helped ease the tension in my chest. Boris trotted behind me, his tail wagging as if sensing the shift in my mood.

The four of us gathered around the table as the evening light faded to twilight, giving way to the warm glow of the candles Audrey had lit. She set a steaming pot of stew in the center, the rich aroma filling the room.

Just as we finished preparing the table, a firm knock echoed from the front door. Audrey perked up immediately, wiping her hands on her apron with a practiced motion. “Ah, that must be Tzian and Mama,” she said with a smile, already striding toward the door. Boris barked excitedly, his little paws skittering across the floor as he trailed behind her, the familiar scent of Mama drawing him like a magnet.

The door creaked open, and a burst of cool evening air swept into the house, carrying with it the earthy scent of the village and the faint trace of lavender from Mama’s shawl. “Ugh, finally. It felt like ages getting back here.” Mama’s voice rang out warmly, her gentle tone instantly filling the space with a sense of ease.

“Tzian, don’t just stand there—come in before you let the heat escape,” Audrey teased as she ushered them inside. Tzian stepped over the threshold, his tall frame nearly brushing the top of the doorway. He gave a sheepish grin, adjusting the basket he carried. “Sorry, sis. Didn’t want to drop this,” he said, lifting the basket to reveal a freshly baked loaf of bread and a small bundle of herbs.

Mama stepped forward, her usually stern eyes, now kind, scanning the room as she reached down to scratch Boris behind the ears. He responded with an enthusiastic bark, his entire body vibrating with excitement. “You’ve all been busy,” Mama remarked, her gaze settling on the set table and the simmering pot on the stove. “It smells wonderful in here.”

Audrey beamed at the compliment, stepping aside to take the basket from Tzian. “Well of course! It’s been days since we’ve had a proper meal.”

Mama’s expression softened, and she glanced toward me with a warm smile that made the knot in my chest loosen just a little. “You’re absolutely right,” she said, her voice as comforting as the stew waiting on the table. “Well, let’s sit down and eat. I’m exhausted from all that walking.”

We gathered around the table, the cozy light of the candles casting soft shadows on the walls. The stew was ladled into bowls, the bread was sliced and passed around, and for a moment, the world outside faded away.

Laughter bubbled up as Brin recounted a story from the market, her animated gestures making Tzian chuckle. Audrey chimed in with her dry wit, keeping the conversation lively. And Boris sat in his booster seat, barking along with the conversation.

Mama’s gaze lingered on me for a moment as I quietly sipped my lemonade. “Azael,” she said gently, drawing my attention. “Are you all right, dear?”

I hesitated, the weight of the day pressing against me, but the warmth in her eyes made it impossible to dismiss her concern entirely. “I’m fine,” I said, offering a small smile. “Just… tired.. I trained against Daisy, remember?” I knew she could probably see through my calm expression, so I tried to duck my head a little.

She nodded, her understanding silent but palpable. “You’ve been carrying a lot, haven’t you?” she said softly, her words a quiet acknowledgment that resonated deeply. “I’m still really proud of you from today.”

Her words settled over me like a blanket, and for the first time that day, I felt the edges of my tension begin to fray. “Thanks, Mama,” I murmured, my voice barely audible over the clink of utensils and the soft hum of conversation. “I learned from the best.” Mama chuckled, and sipped from her spoon before raising her hand to ruffle my hair. Earning a giggle from me.

The evening wore on, the table gradually emptying of food but filling with stories and laughter. As the candles burned low and the warmth of the meal settled into my bones, I allowed myself to sink into the moment. Here, surrounded by my family, the harshness of the outside world felt a little less daunting.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, I was home.

The meal stretched on as stories flowed freely, weaving threads of joy and comfort into the evening. Tzian recounted a humorous incident at the mill involving a runaway cart, drawing hearty laughs from everyone at the table. Mama smiled as she listened, her gaze sweeping over her children with quiet pride.

Even Boris seemed content, curled up near the hearth after sneaking a scrap of bread from Audrey’s plate.

As the last of the stew was scraped from the pot and the bread reduced to crumbs, the conversations began to lull. Audrey stretched, her apron crinkling as she rose from her seat. “I’ll start cleaning up,” she said, gathering the dishes.

Brin hopped up to help her. “I’ll dry.”

Mama stood, placing a gentle hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “You’ve done enough, dear. Let Tzian and I take over. You all go rest.”

Audrey hesitated but relented with a grateful smile. Brin tugged at her sleeve, guiding her toward the cozy corner by the fire where they could sit and talk quietly.

I lingered at the table, tracing a finger along the grain of the wood. My thoughts drifted back to the market, the curious glances and whispered words from the villagers. No matter how warm this home was, the weight of their judgment felt inescapable.

“Azael?” Mama’s voice pulled me from my reverie. She stood by the table, her eyes soft with concern.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, rising from my seat. The words came automatically, a shield I’d long since perfected.

Mama studied me for a moment but didn’t press. Instead, she reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my feather. “Get some rest, sweetheart. Tomorrow’s another day.”

I nodded, murmuring my goodnights to everyone before retreating to my room.

The small space was quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. I slipped out of my day clothes and into a simple nightgown, the cool fabric soothing against my skin. The familiar creak of the floorboards beneath my feet as I crossed the room was oddly comforting.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stared out the window, my reflection faintly visible in the glass. The village beyond seemed so far away, its distant lights blurred by the haze of the night.

“Eyes were always around me,” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible. “Staring me down with disdain. Everyone except for my family and a few villagers aren’t afraid of me. It’s so exhausting… not having any friends my age.”

The words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing against my chest.

I lay down, pulling the blanket over me as my family echoed faintly from the other room. The sounds of the house—Brin’s laughter, Audrey’s quiet hum, Mama’s gentle instructions—faded into the background as sleep crept in.

For all its challenges, this house was my refuge, a place where I could let my guard down, even if only for a little while.

As my eyes closed, I held onto the warmth of the evening, letting it wrap around me like a shield against the harshness of the outside world.

Tomorrow would come, but for now, I allowed myself to rest.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Chapter two.

#srry it’s long omfg #qftimsu #Azael Drew #bendy drew #Boris drew #Audrey Drew #Tzian drew #Maria Drew #Daisy Licel #Oierio Licel #fanfic #babqftim #babqftim rewrite

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