"Mommy, mommy, look what I made!" shouted a young girl as she ran up to her mother, jumping into the Breton woman's arms. She hefted up a doll made from sticks and the vines growing up the trees surrounding their house. The small figure's hair was made out of tiny white flowers.
"Oh honey, it's beautiful. Who is it?" The woman smiled as she carried her small daughter over to the table, where she sat her down before turning back to their dinner.
"You mommy, of course." Her hyperactive daughter bounced up and down on her seat, making the old wood creak. Out of the corner of her eye, the mother saw a figure advance upon her daughter, slowly sneaking up behind her. The small girl of course didn't notice, too preoccupied with her mother and the doll she had made. The creaking of the bench covered the shadow's approach.
"ROAR!" The small girl screamed at her father, who had snuck up behind her. She jumped off the bench, and ran to the other side of the table, picking up a spoon along the way. "I'm a dragon, and I have come to kidnap the beautiful young princess." The large Nordic man grinned as he slowly stalked around the table, following his daughter in circles. His wife was watching from the fire, slowly stirring tonight's venison soup.
"Away foul beast, away! I shan't be taken to your castle!" Their daughter tried to maintain a stern frown, but within seconds the little girl was smiling, her clear white eyes sparkling. She was trying to use her small wooden spoon as a type of dagger, holding it out in front of her. The mother made a mental note to begin teacher her daughter how to properly hold a weapon. Her husband roared once again and charged at their little girl, scooping her up in his large arms. The girls giggles reverberated through the house as her father, 'the dragon', attacked her by way of tickles.
The mother took the pot of stew off the fire then turned, brandishing her large wooden stirring spoon, and faced the dragon. "Halt ye monster, You shall drop the princess at once, or face the consequences." Her husband stopped tickling their daughter, but kept a hold of her around the waist.
"And what, oh fierce and mighty warrior, might that be?" He grinned at her. She gave him a frown, acting as if she were thinking then returned her husband's grin.
"No supper."
"I surrender, oh mighty one." He gently dropped their daughter on her feet, and the little girl went running back to her seat. Once seated, she stared at her empty bowl as if the food might simply appear by will. The man walked around the table and kissed his wife on her cheek before taking a seat at the head of the table, watching as she served the food.
They didn't have much. The majority of the food went to at least fill their daughter's bowl halfway. The rest was split between the two of them, along with some grilled leeks from storage. The winter had been hard so far, and their stores were starting to run low. If they couldn't find any game soon they would have to venture to town and use up the last of their gold. The mother frowned down at her bowl, staring at the meager portion it contained. At least their daughter would enjoy it.
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"Baby girl, I need you to stay in here. Don't come out, no matter what, okay?" The girl nodded mutely, her large scared eyes staring up at the solemn face of her father. Her mother was over by the door, holding it closed from the beating on the other side of it. She had a dagger in each hand; the metal was gleaming in the low firelight. The girl winced as her mother jolted from another heavy blow to the wooden door.
"We love you honey, don't ever forget that." Her father kissed her on the forehead, and set her down in the closet. He closed the slatted door, and his daughter watched as he turned to join her mother, drawing his war axe from his hip. He gave her mother a kiss before nodding to her. They both stepped away from the door and it burst open.
A large group of men in ragged furs stormed through the door. Their faces were dirty, and their weapons were already drawn. They slowly surrounded her parents without attacking. They were all eerily silent. Once her parents were surrounded, a large Orcish man walked in. He had a large battle axe strapped to his back. The girl had never seen an Orc before, and covered her mouth to keep the squeak from escaping her.
"Malik, Aerin, you have been charged with abandonment of your lord. Your lord has spoken and you have no say in this trial. Your charge is death. After your death, our lord has commanded that your daughter be sacrificed in reparation." With the Orc's last words, her father let loose a war cry and attacked the nearest person. The young Argonian was not ready for this and his head was removed in a single swing.
With the opening made by her husband, Aerin ducked out of the circle and went straight for the leader. She managed to land a dagger in his side before the butt of his axe hit her in the shoulder. She reeled back, trying to regain her balance before his next swing. Thankfully Malik came in and blocked the Orc's next swing, leaving her to hold off the lighter enemies.
They fought for what seemed like hours, but couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. They were able to fell the Orc, but soon they were overwhelmed by the lackeys. Bodies littered the floor, and from the original group of eighteen, only six were left alive. Quite a few more were left to bleed out from their wounds upon the rough wooden planks. The remaining six circled around the downed couple once more. Aerin had a sword through her belly, she wouldn't survive much longer. Malik however had been downed by an iron dagger severing the muscles in the back of his knee, a final strike from a dying rouge.
The husband kissed his dying wife once final time, before trying to crawl in the opposite direction of the closet his daughter was in. He was hoping to lead them away from where his baby was hidden, keep them guessing in the wrong places. He had reached the edge of the circle when a female wood elf kicked him in the stomach. The circle shifted, and he started crawling again. This cycle continued, with different members of the six kicking him when he got to close to the edge. Finally they grew tired of their game, and it ended with a large Redguard stomping on his destroyed knee.
The young daughter winced as her father screamed. Tears were running down her face. Mommy wasn't moving anymore. She had died not to far from the entrance to her hiding spot, and the blood was slowly seeping under the door. She backed as far back into the closet as she could while keeping her eyes on her still struggling father. He had been trying to get away, trying to crawl away from where she was hidden. That was wrong, she wanted to see daddy's face again, wanted to see him smile at her.
Her father's yells were cut off when a boot stomped down on his neck. She could hear the snap from where she was. Once their prey was dead, they began their search. They started with the side of the house that Malik had been crawling towards, and tore the house apart.
"No, no, no, no…" She was slowly rocking back and forth. The tears had stopped, and she was staring at the blood splattered closet door. She froze when she felt something soak through the thin cloth of her shoes. She stared down blankly at the blood that had reached her and was slowly being absorbed into her clothing.
"No, No, No…" She tried to scoot back even further, but she had reached the wall. Her hands scrambled across the floor, desperate to get away. She gasped when something cut her hand. She grabbed the small knife off the floor and raised the bleeding hand to her face.
"No, No, No, No…" She could hear them talking outside their voices slowly moving closer, but she paid them no mind. All she could think about was the pain that surrounded her, filled her, the blood on her hands… As the blood welled from the cut the carving knife had made on her hand, so did the pain within her swell, overtaking her and drowning her in it. And along with this pain, came something new, something she had no name for…
She screamed as she jumped out the doors, using her knife to attack her parent's murderers.
"NOOOOO!" Her world went red…
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And Galleia screamed as she woke up on the soft fox pelts that covered her bed in her home atop the throat of the world. The red slowly faded from her vision as she fell back upon her bed. She wouldn't sleep again that night, because somewhere in the back of her head, a small girl was crying in a corner clutching a bloodstained knife in her hands with mauled bodies surrounding her. Mommy and Daddy… Where did you go?
Kit: Hello. This is my Christmas present to all of you, but mostly to my co-writer. This one I wrote completely on my own. Sorry for being gone so long.
Tin: I knew that was Galleia as soon as she mentioned the white eyes. Anyone else have an "oh damn" moment there? We've planned out most of the rest of the story, so all we need to do now is write chapters. Our biggest block to uploading was that we weren't exactly sure what the next chapter would be about, but we've planned out roughly 5 chapters. Thanks for reading, and Merry Christmas!
