Flashback Timestamp: 34th Day of Spring, 511 AV
It was difficult. Sedele was commanded to perfect her technique, to learn a new strategy to add on to her already learnt moves, yet she knew not how. Her long blade was dull, yet presentable as it glistened in the sun’s luminescent rays. Beads of sweat kept forming on her forehead, dripping down the side of her face as she continued to strike at the tree in front of her.
“More ferocity!” her father shouted from behind her. Sedele felt his eyes bore into her mind from behind and she couldn’t help but stick the visual of a lion watching its dying prey inside her soul. His version of encouragement felt like a stab in the side as she raised the sword she held above her head, slicing it horizontally across her body and into the bark of her target. Thwack! She did so again, involuntary anger bubbling up inside of her. Thwack!
“Harder! Release your raging energy through the blade and into the tree!” he screamed once more, testing the neutrons inside of her to see whether they would obey or not. She swept the sword across the tree and then pulled it back again for her final thrust. She wound up her power and felt it almost manifesting in a glowing orb of emotion near the weapon’s handle. She squinted her eyes slightly and locked her jaw tight as she grunted softly, forcing the sorry-to-be-an-offensive-katana into the centre of the wooden plant. Clunk!
“You’re pathetic!” Sedele’s father moaned as she saw him roll his eyes and stomp up to her from out of the corner of her eyes. He took the weapon aggressively from her hold and pushed her away, having her lose her balance and fall into the overgrown grasslands below.
“I’ll show you,” he growled, “You need not be weak when facing your enemy. The world is your enemy and you must not trust anyone. Everything is evil, and the only way to right the wrong is by ending it once and for all. The essence of life is hatred and we as a Symenestra kill those who disobey that lifestyle,” he explained as he showed her the proper form of which to attack. He separated his feet to where one foot was in front of the other, but separated by a shoulder’s width.
“You position the blade like so, your enemy having the lower ground,” he continued, concentrating on his target more than his technique as his hands turned white from the firm grip he had on the weapon’s wooden handle. But Sedele wasn’t paying much attention either way to her father’s complex demonstration; she was distracted by her own incessant thoughts instead.
She noticed her father’s ashen skin, as pale as the moon’s reflection in a steady pool of water. She was interested in the way it seemed to attract the sun’s rays, having it seem to blind all who stared at its beauty. She was captivated by his scarlet red eyes and how they held power, truth, control and pain within the bloody colour. She saw his long black hair and the way it was always tied up into a ponytail behind his back, framing his sharply defined face perfectly. She instinctively wondered as to what her mother must have looked like before she past away so long ago. She couldn’t seem to stop herself as she interrogated her father.
“What was she like?” The sound of clanking metal hit the air like cold water being thrown onto a cat after she spoke her inquiry. Only after a while did Sedele realise that her father had hit the katana onto a large boulder to the right of his obstacle. He instantly knew who Sedele happened to be talking about.
“That is irrelevant,” he replied to her calmly, but his eyes spoke of ice and fire. Sedele was unfazed, however. She wanted with all her heard to know about her mother. Her father had said that she had died during child birth but nothing more, for his hatred of remembering. Sedele wasn’t sure whether he didn’t want to remember because it was too painful or whether he didn’t like to think about the past because it was not a necessity and didn’t care too much to recognise it and speak of her.
“But I must know,” Sedele persisted. Her mouth continued to form words, her heart pressuring her to continue, yet her mind cried for her to stop, for she knew what would happen if she disobeyed her predatory father. “Were her eyes bright like mine? Was she beautiful, smart and strong?”
“Enough,” her father growled, his extended canine teeth visible, sharpened to show that he was lethal and would attack if threatened to do so. But Sedele wanted more and didn’t feel intimidated. She was hungry for the knowledge of her ancestry, and race, and the only one who remembered her mother and was old enough to have such information was her father.
“Father,” Sedele pressed, deep in her own thoughts, “What was my mother’s name?” A slight breeze was followed by the feeling of a wet substance that lingered on Sedele’s cheek. She lifted her hand to brush off the liquid, gasping as she realized that the colour was red. Her father had cut her!
“Father-” Sedele whispered, but she was soon interrupted by her father’s booming voice, the words slicing the air as they were spoken. “You will not disobey me again!”
She did not cower; instead Sedele straightened her back, threw back her shoulders and locked her jaw as her teeth groiund together. She had never really talked back to her father before, or at least not without feeling heavy feelings of regret or an unnecessary punishment in return. However, now she felt proud and strong as well as defiant emotions concocting throughout her blood. “It’s my right to know. She’s my mother, you know,” she sneered, her top lip curling back to reveal to large eye teeth of her own.
Sedele’s father stalked closer to her, eyes blazing with irises full of anger and hatred. Once he had come close enough to her, he raised his hand quickly. She didn’t even flinch as she blocked the oncoming blow with the outside of her forearm. Her father’s face reddened at the embarrassment of having not made a connection with her face. He took action, his head clouded by a dark wrath.
He first swung the arm that held the blade, hacking it intensely at Sedele’sshoulders, his perfect demonstrative technique now vanished with his rational sense of mind. Sedele merely jumped back and dodged to the left, barely escaping the dull blade. It might have been dull, but she knew from past experiences that any blade could be deadly.
The man, who Sedele had finally come to consider as not her father, brought back the sword once more, raising it above his head, having created an opening for Sedele to strike. She lunged in and sent a front kick towards his abdomen. Consequently, he dropped the blade and fell back into a heap on the forest floor.
Sedele could have sworn she’d seen smoke releasing from his ears, his pupils dilating into a malevolent cat’s glare as he screamed at Sedele. She hadn’t a clue what she had gotten herself into, only knowing that the direction these events happened to be going could only lead to one devastating finale. She hated to see her father angry, for she wished nothing more than to make his proud, but what had she done to deserve such irrational actions of violence against her? She merely asked a simple question about her mother’s name. Was it really that painful to relive a death that had happened so long ago?
Suddenly, a raging voice erupted from nearby, sending chills down her spine. “You’ll learn your place!” Her father then swept his hand down by his boot and reached in to retrieve something. Pulling out his dirty hand, nails now littered with moss and mud, he held a large dagger between two nimble fingers.
Sedele blinked rapidly and held her breath, starting to creep backwards as realisation hit her like a brick. Her father was going to charge at her! He was trying to kill her! And then he did just what Sedele had predicted he would do. His mouth practically foaming in anger, his eyes bulging out of their sockets in morbid greed, he charged at his daughter who had stepped greatly out of line, aiming to teach her a lesson with his dagger.
Sedele’s heart raced as she watched him run toward her. She was in such a panic she ended up tripping on something heavy behind her, having her lose her grip on reality and fall to the ground. Completely vulnerable, Sedele started to blank out, her mind and body’s nerves growing dull as her being stay still, lying prostrate among dead flowers and fallen logs. Her father was almost among her when she saw a glinting object out of the corner of her eye. I must have tripped on this, she thought to herself as a tidal of raging thoughts tried to battle for attention. The call of an end neared as her father jumped into the air, screaming profane words at his very own flesh and blood. Sedele reacted quickly, reaching for the object she had seen not more than seconds ago, positioning it so that it pointed upright on her breasts.
The world went black and time seemed to cease.Sedele couldn’t breathe, as the feeling of heavy weights pressed down on her from all angles. The sound of a suction cup being dislodged from a flat surface, the sound of a cat lapping up hydration from a watering hole as well as the sound of a fork grating against enamel protruded her ears, yet she unable to locate the source of all the sounds.
She knew she was dead, the instant conclusion anyone would make after they had been through a recent tragic event. But once she had realised she had the capability of opening her eyes, she found herself staring into the hollow eyes of her father, whom was whispering his last and final word; the name of her mother.
“Sakovamadinne.” The voice was feint, yet the words rolled off his bloody lips with such prominence and pride that it felt like he had shouted it. And then his body laid still, a top of her own. The katana had sent itself through his solarplex into all the vital organs it had served yet failed to protect. Crimson liquid laced with cells of life poured out of the open wound and onto Sedele.
She was in awe, stuck upon with a full blow of shock. No matter how hard she tried to take ahold of the truth of her murdering act in killing her only father, she couldn’t seem to grasp reality. It seemed to swim just out of her reach as she stayed lying down with her father’s dead body above her. She knew one thing she desired to have the most and that was the memory of her father. She couldn’t ever forget what he did to her, whether it was wrong or not. She could not forget how he tried so hard to make her become the perfect soldier he wanted. He had taught her how to fight, he had taught her how to be intelligent in the acts of war and most of all, he was there for her all the time, trying to make her strong and endurable.
She opened her mouth and let the blood drip into her mouth, caressing her fangs and toying with her emotions with a cruel sense of humour. She instantly began seeing images of her past:The time her father had invited her to go out and hunt for her very first meal, having the trip end in bloody knees and no dinner; the time when she had cut her hair by herself, having it turn out all ragged and uneven. Her father had merely taken a pair of scissors and had cut off all her lovely locks of charcoal so that she looked like a boy. Many flashbacks continued to weave their way into Sedele’s memory until she couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed her father off of her, making sure to gently lay his head on the soft grass. She debated on whether to accept the need of having a weapon with her or not, and remember abruptly that she still had her family’s lash in her pack near the targeted tree.
Tears were started to form as she walked to the tree to redeem her items, and she hated herself for it. Whether she was unhappy or not, strong people never cry about their silly lives. However, Sedele couldn't not think about what had just happened, so she just stayed silent and let the tears continue to fall and the thougts continue to form within her mind.
How could she have just killed her father? Why didn’t she just let him lacerate her with his dagger? Why couldn’t she have taken the pain and accepted the punishment he had for her? All of the events that had progressed until now made Sedele feel queasy. She couldn’t take it. She suddenly knew what she had to do, and without looking back she ran away, leaving her bloody father, dead, with a large sword sticking out of his chest to stay among all the wildlife she had so come to destroy.
She ran, and ran, and continued to run until she couldn’t anymore. Her tears blinded her line of sight, causing her to almost run right into a tree.
She stumbled to the floor, cradling herself into a fetal position. She didn't want to accept the fact that she had just ended her father's life. She couldn't come to accept that her father had tried to kill her. Sedele's head spun off its axis, triggering something to envelope her in a soothing comfort. She wouldn't let her pain get to her. She would move on. Her father had when her mother had died, so she would too. This stated idea was enough to give Sedele some courage and hope. Her father was in a better place now and wouldn’t have to be disturbed by the hatred he had for others.
Wiping her tears away with the back of her cloak’s sleeve, Sedele got up, not even needing the use of the tree’s support. She would shake this off and accept the fact that her father was insane, that he was crazy for some odd reason. Jealousy perhaps? Or perhaps guilt for his wife’s death? Sedele didn’t know, for her mind was just about as jumbled as a mixing bowl full of gelatine.
Some sort of electric spark ignited inside her mind before flashes of images protruded her thoughts. She was being taken back to a library in Kalinor, one she had snuck out to go to under the rule not to by her father. She was reading a text saying something difficult to understand about her people’s culture. Then, Sedele’s heart was lodged in her throat as she slumped back down to the mossy earth below her.
A female Symenestra died during childbirth because of the poison a child Symenestra administered inside her body.
Tears escaped down her cheeks as she realised that she had killed both her parents. Surely it was good to know that it hadn’t happened in the same day, but realising this knowledge was enough for her to choke on her own spittle.
How could this have happened? Why had her father completely lied to her about her past and especially her own mother? How could he sleep at night knowing that he had spoken mistruths about his and his daughter’s life toward her? Anger traded places with sorrow as it crawled like a fire inside her veins.
No one would ever mess around with her again. She didn’t think she could ever trust again knowing that she couldn’t have trusted her own father. She was stronger now, she knew, and to have the idea of starting a new beginning gave Sedele some sort of hope.
“I will be brave and make a new start for me,” Sedele whispered to herself. She couldn’t help but wonder if one of the gods she had learned was named Izurdin was helping her out by giving her encouragement and strength.
She would never forget this day that she had learned so much about her past. She would never forget that she had killed both her parents causing her to become an orphan, but she was accept this fact and move on, starting a new life for herself. She will be strong and patient, fighting for her fate to make itself known.
That is the best she could hope for as she picked up the pack that had fallen from her shoulders and made for the east, towards Alvadas.
“More ferocity!” her father shouted from behind her. Sedele felt his eyes bore into her mind from behind and she couldn’t help but stick the visual of a lion watching its dying prey inside her soul. His version of encouragement felt like a stab in the side as she raised the sword she held above her head, slicing it horizontally across her body and into the bark of her target. Thwack! She did so again, involuntary anger bubbling up inside of her. Thwack!
“Harder! Release your raging energy through the blade and into the tree!” he screamed once more, testing the neutrons inside of her to see whether they would obey or not. She swept the sword across the tree and then pulled it back again for her final thrust. She wound up her power and felt it almost manifesting in a glowing orb of emotion near the weapon’s handle. She squinted her eyes slightly and locked her jaw tight as she grunted softly, forcing the sorry-to-be-an-offensive-katana into the centre of the wooden plant. Clunk!
“You’re pathetic!” Sedele’s father moaned as she saw him roll his eyes and stomp up to her from out of the corner of her eyes. He took the weapon aggressively from her hold and pushed her away, having her lose her balance and fall into the overgrown grasslands below.
“I’ll show you,” he growled, “You need not be weak when facing your enemy. The world is your enemy and you must not trust anyone. Everything is evil, and the only way to right the wrong is by ending it once and for all. The essence of life is hatred and we as a Symenestra kill those who disobey that lifestyle,” he explained as he showed her the proper form of which to attack. He separated his feet to where one foot was in front of the other, but separated by a shoulder’s width.
“You position the blade like so, your enemy having the lower ground,” he continued, concentrating on his target more than his technique as his hands turned white from the firm grip he had on the weapon’s wooden handle. But Sedele wasn’t paying much attention either way to her father’s complex demonstration; she was distracted by her own incessant thoughts instead.
She noticed her father’s ashen skin, as pale as the moon’s reflection in a steady pool of water. She was interested in the way it seemed to attract the sun’s rays, having it seem to blind all who stared at its beauty. She was captivated by his scarlet red eyes and how they held power, truth, control and pain within the bloody colour. She saw his long black hair and the way it was always tied up into a ponytail behind his back, framing his sharply defined face perfectly. She instinctively wondered as to what her mother must have looked like before she past away so long ago. She couldn’t seem to stop herself as she interrogated her father.
“What was she like?” The sound of clanking metal hit the air like cold water being thrown onto a cat after she spoke her inquiry. Only after a while did Sedele realise that her father had hit the katana onto a large boulder to the right of his obstacle. He instantly knew who Sedele happened to be talking about.
“That is irrelevant,” he replied to her calmly, but his eyes spoke of ice and fire. Sedele was unfazed, however. She wanted with all her heard to know about her mother. Her father had said that she had died during child birth but nothing more, for his hatred of remembering. Sedele wasn’t sure whether he didn’t want to remember because it was too painful or whether he didn’t like to think about the past because it was not a necessity and didn’t care too much to recognise it and speak of her.
“But I must know,” Sedele persisted. Her mouth continued to form words, her heart pressuring her to continue, yet her mind cried for her to stop, for she knew what would happen if she disobeyed her predatory father. “Were her eyes bright like mine? Was she beautiful, smart and strong?”
“Enough,” her father growled, his extended canine teeth visible, sharpened to show that he was lethal and would attack if threatened to do so. But Sedele wanted more and didn’t feel intimidated. She was hungry for the knowledge of her ancestry, and race, and the only one who remembered her mother and was old enough to have such information was her father.
“Father,” Sedele pressed, deep in her own thoughts, “What was my mother’s name?” A slight breeze was followed by the feeling of a wet substance that lingered on Sedele’s cheek. She lifted her hand to brush off the liquid, gasping as she realized that the colour was red. Her father had cut her!
“Father-” Sedele whispered, but she was soon interrupted by her father’s booming voice, the words slicing the air as they were spoken. “You will not disobey me again!”
She did not cower; instead Sedele straightened her back, threw back her shoulders and locked her jaw as her teeth groiund together. She had never really talked back to her father before, or at least not without feeling heavy feelings of regret or an unnecessary punishment in return. However, now she felt proud and strong as well as defiant emotions concocting throughout her blood. “It’s my right to know. She’s my mother, you know,” she sneered, her top lip curling back to reveal to large eye teeth of her own.
Sedele’s father stalked closer to her, eyes blazing with irises full of anger and hatred. Once he had come close enough to her, he raised his hand quickly. She didn’t even flinch as she blocked the oncoming blow with the outside of her forearm. Her father’s face reddened at the embarrassment of having not made a connection with her face. He took action, his head clouded by a dark wrath.
He first swung the arm that held the blade, hacking it intensely at Sedele’sshoulders, his perfect demonstrative technique now vanished with his rational sense of mind. Sedele merely jumped back and dodged to the left, barely escaping the dull blade. It might have been dull, but she knew from past experiences that any blade could be deadly.
The man, who Sedele had finally come to consider as not her father, brought back the sword once more, raising it above his head, having created an opening for Sedele to strike. She lunged in and sent a front kick towards his abdomen. Consequently, he dropped the blade and fell back into a heap on the forest floor.
Sedele could have sworn she’d seen smoke releasing from his ears, his pupils dilating into a malevolent cat’s glare as he screamed at Sedele. She hadn’t a clue what she had gotten herself into, only knowing that the direction these events happened to be going could only lead to one devastating finale. She hated to see her father angry, for she wished nothing more than to make his proud, but what had she done to deserve such irrational actions of violence against her? She merely asked a simple question about her mother’s name. Was it really that painful to relive a death that had happened so long ago?
Suddenly, a raging voice erupted from nearby, sending chills down her spine. “You’ll learn your place!” Her father then swept his hand down by his boot and reached in to retrieve something. Pulling out his dirty hand, nails now littered with moss and mud, he held a large dagger between two nimble fingers.
Sedele blinked rapidly and held her breath, starting to creep backwards as realisation hit her like a brick. Her father was going to charge at her! He was trying to kill her! And then he did just what Sedele had predicted he would do. His mouth practically foaming in anger, his eyes bulging out of their sockets in morbid greed, he charged at his daughter who had stepped greatly out of line, aiming to teach her a lesson with his dagger.
Sedele’s heart raced as she watched him run toward her. She was in such a panic she ended up tripping on something heavy behind her, having her lose her grip on reality and fall to the ground. Completely vulnerable, Sedele started to blank out, her mind and body’s nerves growing dull as her being stay still, lying prostrate among dead flowers and fallen logs. Her father was almost among her when she saw a glinting object out of the corner of her eye. I must have tripped on this, she thought to herself as a tidal of raging thoughts tried to battle for attention. The call of an end neared as her father jumped into the air, screaming profane words at his very own flesh and blood. Sedele reacted quickly, reaching for the object she had seen not more than seconds ago, positioning it so that it pointed upright on her breasts.
The world went black and time seemed to cease.Sedele couldn’t breathe, as the feeling of heavy weights pressed down on her from all angles. The sound of a suction cup being dislodged from a flat surface, the sound of a cat lapping up hydration from a watering hole as well as the sound of a fork grating against enamel protruded her ears, yet she unable to locate the source of all the sounds.
She knew she was dead, the instant conclusion anyone would make after they had been through a recent tragic event. But once she had realised she had the capability of opening her eyes, she found herself staring into the hollow eyes of her father, whom was whispering his last and final word; the name of her mother.
“Sakovamadinne.” The voice was feint, yet the words rolled off his bloody lips with such prominence and pride that it felt like he had shouted it. And then his body laid still, a top of her own. The katana had sent itself through his solarplex into all the vital organs it had served yet failed to protect. Crimson liquid laced with cells of life poured out of the open wound and onto Sedele.
She was in awe, stuck upon with a full blow of shock. No matter how hard she tried to take ahold of the truth of her murdering act in killing her only father, she couldn’t seem to grasp reality. It seemed to swim just out of her reach as she stayed lying down with her father’s dead body above her. She knew one thing she desired to have the most and that was the memory of her father. She couldn’t ever forget what he did to her, whether it was wrong or not. She could not forget how he tried so hard to make her become the perfect soldier he wanted. He had taught her how to fight, he had taught her how to be intelligent in the acts of war and most of all, he was there for her all the time, trying to make her strong and endurable.
She opened her mouth and let the blood drip into her mouth, caressing her fangs and toying with her emotions with a cruel sense of humour. She instantly began seeing images of her past:The time her father had invited her to go out and hunt for her very first meal, having the trip end in bloody knees and no dinner; the time when she had cut her hair by herself, having it turn out all ragged and uneven. Her father had merely taken a pair of scissors and had cut off all her lovely locks of charcoal so that she looked like a boy. Many flashbacks continued to weave their way into Sedele’s memory until she couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed her father off of her, making sure to gently lay his head on the soft grass. She debated on whether to accept the need of having a weapon with her or not, and remember abruptly that she still had her family’s lash in her pack near the targeted tree.
Tears were started to form as she walked to the tree to redeem her items, and she hated herself for it. Whether she was unhappy or not, strong people never cry about their silly lives. However, Sedele couldn't not think about what had just happened, so she just stayed silent and let the tears continue to fall and the thougts continue to form within her mind.
How could she have just killed her father? Why didn’t she just let him lacerate her with his dagger? Why couldn’t she have taken the pain and accepted the punishment he had for her? All of the events that had progressed until now made Sedele feel queasy. She couldn’t take it. She suddenly knew what she had to do, and without looking back she ran away, leaving her bloody father, dead, with a large sword sticking out of his chest to stay among all the wildlife she had so come to destroy.
She ran, and ran, and continued to run until she couldn’t anymore. Her tears blinded her line of sight, causing her to almost run right into a tree.
She stumbled to the floor, cradling herself into a fetal position. She didn't want to accept the fact that she had just ended her father's life. She couldn't come to accept that her father had tried to kill her. Sedele's head spun off its axis, triggering something to envelope her in a soothing comfort. She wouldn't let her pain get to her. She would move on. Her father had when her mother had died, so she would too. This stated idea was enough to give Sedele some courage and hope. Her father was in a better place now and wouldn’t have to be disturbed by the hatred he had for others.
Wiping her tears away with the back of her cloak’s sleeve, Sedele got up, not even needing the use of the tree’s support. She would shake this off and accept the fact that her father was insane, that he was crazy for some odd reason. Jealousy perhaps? Or perhaps guilt for his wife’s death? Sedele didn’t know, for her mind was just about as jumbled as a mixing bowl full of gelatine.
Some sort of electric spark ignited inside her mind before flashes of images protruded her thoughts. She was being taken back to a library in Kalinor, one she had snuck out to go to under the rule not to by her father. She was reading a text saying something difficult to understand about her people’s culture. Then, Sedele’s heart was lodged in her throat as she slumped back down to the mossy earth below her.
A female Symenestra died during childbirth because of the poison a child Symenestra administered inside her body.
Tears escaped down her cheeks as she realised that she had killed both her parents. Surely it was good to know that it hadn’t happened in the same day, but realising this knowledge was enough for her to choke on her own spittle.
How could this have happened? Why had her father completely lied to her about her past and especially her own mother? How could he sleep at night knowing that he had spoken mistruths about his and his daughter’s life toward her? Anger traded places with sorrow as it crawled like a fire inside her veins.
No one would ever mess around with her again. She didn’t think she could ever trust again knowing that she couldn’t have trusted her own father. She was stronger now, she knew, and to have the idea of starting a new beginning gave Sedele some sort of hope.
“I will be brave and make a new start for me,” Sedele whispered to herself. She couldn’t help but wonder if one of the gods she had learned was named Izurdin was helping her out by giving her encouragement and strength.
She would never forget this day that she had learned so much about her past. She would never forget that she had killed both her parents causing her to become an orphan, but she was accept this fact and move on, starting a new life for herself. She will be strong and patient, fighting for her fate to make itself known.
That is the best she could hope for as she picked up the pack that had fallen from her shoulders and made for the east, towards Alvadas.
