Of the many men her father had to serve under him, he never treated any of them like he treated Aversa. What they had was special. Her father had taken her off the streets himself. Without him, she would have died in a gutter long ago. He gave her clothes, he gave her food. He taught her magic and the ways of the Grimleal.
Aversa knew, without a doubt, that she was his daughter. No one could tell her otherwise, and no one could ever take that from her.
At least, that was what her father had told her.
"Father, who is that?" Aversa asked.
Her father looked at her. "Not now, Aversa."
Aversa had not heard his voice in so long. Hearing it now, it should have made her happy, but his voice was so harsh she stopped for a moment.
His dismissal was obvious, even over the din of the crowd. A better daughter would have turned to leave immediately.
Instead, she said, "Why?"
"Because I told you so."
Aversa huffed. Around her, she heard people grumble, and it was then she realized that they weren't alone. A group of Grimleal gathered around the two of them.
Oh. He was busy.
"Okay," she said. "I'll go."
She turned and walked back into the bustling crowd.
It hurt, hearing he didn't want to see her, but her father was a busy man. A lot of people would want to talk to her father now. She would just have to wait her turn.
People danced. They sang. Meals were shared, and below the joyous atmosphere, Aversa slunk through the crowd. It was hard to ignore all the shouting, all the happy noises the people around her made, but she had to. Just because her father couldn't see her now was no reason for her to get angry, or she would leave herself weak to other emotions as well.
Her head struck someone's hand. She glanced up, and she saw their drink fly up. Aversa dashed forward before it could hit her. Behind her, she heard a girl cry out, but she was gone before anyone else could see what had happened.
After weaving through several celebrating soldiers, she emerged by a table at plates heaped with meat. Platters of pigs grilled to a tantalizing brown and cows cut up into slices sizzling and steaming with juice bathed in oil sat over her, close enough for her to get a whiff of their rich and savory scent.
Meat like that was expensive; much too expensive for her father to let her get used to eating it. Rarely was she ever allowed to eat meat.
Without him around, though, there was nothing to stop her from just... reaching out and taking a piece, was there? Her fingers twitched. Already she could feel her mouth watering from the thought. She'd eaten nothing but porridge for the past half-year. One bite wouldn't hurt, would it?
Her father was too busy to see her. He'd never see, and he'd never know. A small part of her, the angry part of her, pushed her on.
But if he did, he would never approve. He kept her from eating meat for a reason. If he ever found out, the punishment would be severe.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of purple. Aversa jumped back and spun around, but to her relief, her father was nowhere in sight.
It must have been another Grimleal, she told herself, quickly calming down once she realized her father hadn't seen her temporary lapse in judgment. Yes, father was busy. He wouldn't have the time to look for me right now.
Though, if there were Grimleal wandering about, could that mean he had finished whatever business he had? Perhaps he would have time to speak with her now. Ignoring the temptation to stop and grab a plate from the table behind her, Aversa turned back to where she remembered her father had been, and she skittered away.
When she found him, only a pair of Grimleal were left to listen to him. The boy was there as well, though he didn't count because he was sleeping. Aversa crept closer, and as she did, she heard snippets of her father's words.
"–and as I said, he'll need a decent room if we are to keep him here. We would not want to give him the impression that we are disrespecting him if he is ever to awaken in this vessel."
"Father," she said.
He paused. "I thought I told you not now."
"Are you still busy?"
"Yes. Leave us, Aversa."
This time, she sighed.
She realized her mistake a second later. She'd slipped, even if it was only for a moment. Her father's eyes widened, but Aversa made herself scarce before he could say a word.
She wandered aimlessly through the celebrating rabble, dodging spilled drinks and food. A few people bumped into her, and she would have rebuked them if she wasn't trying to stay unnoticed. She herself had brushed against one or two people, the fading torchlight making it harder to see.
She emerged by another table. This one smelled stronger, the sharp stench of drink a constant fog over her head. A few soldiers hovered around the table, smiling and laughing for no reason at all.
These men smelled bad, and they looked plain stupid too, stumbling around with their ale splashing around in their hands. Disgusted, Aversa moved to step away, but her foot brushed against someone's arm. She looked down, and she found a man sprawled on the floor in front of her, lying facedown in a sickly green puddle stained with... was that blood?
The pointed whiff of copper confirmed it. She could only assume it was the consequences of his foolish life choices.
Aversa made a face. She did not want to be around here. Quickly and quietly, she turned away, and the crowd hid her from that awful scene.
The celebration had begun to wind down by now. With the moon at its highest point in the sky, people started to make their way back to their homes, and Aversa found it harder to stay awake. She'd never stayed up this long; there was never anything for her to do once she had eaten her last meal, and she usually went to sleep immediately after.
This time, though, she was determined to speak to her father, even if she had to stay up all night to get a word with him, and as a happy couple wandered back down the city streets, she finally saw him alone, strolling back to the castle. Hiding her excitement behind a mask, she straightened out her robes and headed toward him.
As she got closer, she noticed the boy still in his arms. So maybe he wasn't completely alone. Still, it wasn't as if he had any important business with the boy, seeing as how he was asleep.
"Father," she said as soon as she got close. "I'm so glad to finally see you again."
Her father stopped. For a moment, she thought she might have done something wrong, but when he finally turned to face her, he didn't look angry. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his eyes narrowed, but that was how he always looked.
"Aversa," he said. "Not now."
"Not now?" She looked around. No one else was here, save for a few soldiers milling about the tables and a servant girl soaked in ale sweeping up the road. "Why not? You're not busy."
"I still have important things to do." He adjusted the unconscious boy in his arms. "Tomorrow. I'll come to see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Aversa frowned. She wanted to see him now. "Don't you want to see how I've been, how much I've learned?"
"I can hardly judge how much you've learned if I'm tired, can't I?"
"But–" Aversa stopped herself. She bit her lip, holding back another protest. No, he wouldn't be able to assess her if he was tired. She could hardly keep herself on her feet right now. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be for father, since he'd been away from home so long.
"Alright," she said.
"Good girl. You head back to the castle first. There are still a few things I need to oversee before I can return."
Aversa nodded. She started toward the castle, her steps going a little higher than before. A few yards away, she stopped to look over her shoulder. Her father was nowhere in sight.
That was fine, she told herself. He promised he would see her tomorrow.
With a hum, Aversa continued back home. That would have to be good enough for her. After all, though tomorrow was so far away, he had given her his promise. She just needed to wait a little more. Good things happened to those who waited.
When Aversa stepped into the training hall and she found Ardri waiting for her instead, she stomped over to him. Jabbing a finger up at his face, she growled, "What are you doing here?"
"Why so surprised, girl?" Ardri sneered.
"Father told me he was coming to see me today!"
"Really? He never told me anything of the like."
"There has to be some sort of mistake!"
"Oh, forget it, will you? Lord Validar has no need to make time for a brat like you." Ardri barked a laugh. "You're nothing to him, and you never will be."
Aversa was stunned. Her mouth hanging open, she couldn't register the heavy Elfire tome flying toward her until it smacked her in the face. She fell back on the seat of her robes with a cry, and her hands flew up to clutch her nose.
Her nose felt numb. Tears welled in her eyes.
"You're pathetic," Ardri said. "Get up. You have spells to learn."
"Get out."
The words slipped out before she could stop them. She almost covered her mouth, almost tried to take them back.
"What did you say to me?"
But then, she realized she didn't want to take them back. No, not this time.
"I said," Aversa balled her fists, "get out!"
With a shout, she thrust her hands forward. Magic burst from her palms, a bright orange dart that streaked across the room. Ardri gasped. He ducked. The dart exploded into a pillar of flame, casting the entire room in searing orange light.
When the flames died down, the wall behind Ardri was scorched black. His eyes widened.
Aversa could feel what remained of the magic tingling in her fingertips. Sparks jumped between her trembling hands, burning with energy. This power–she'd never felt this powerful before, and now that she had...
Her eyes landed on Ardri. He whimpered, and he scrambled out of her sight.
With that, all the power drained from her body. She glanced down at her hands. At that moment, she had felt like she could do anything in the world. But none of that mattered now.
Finally, he'd left her all alone. All she could do was wait for her father when he showed up. Because he would show up, wouldn't he?
So she sat down. And she waited. And she waited. From when the sun had cast long shadows through the windows, to when it was high in the sky, Aversa sat patiently in the training hall for him to come.
And he would come, she was sure of it. Her father would never lie to her, and it wasn't until three Grimleal walked past her, whispering about something "Master Validar" had told them, that the smallest doubt wormed its way into her mind.
Maybe he just didn't know where to find her? Yes, that had to be it. She hadn't told him where he could find her, after all, and while she thought it was obvious, maybe it'd been so long he'd forgotten where they would always meet for magic practice.
Once the Grimleal had disappeared around the corner, Aversa looked around. No one else was with her. She couldn't hear any footsteps approach. Not that of her father, not that of anyone else.
So, she decided she would have to find him.
Pushing herself to her feet, Aversa set off on her search. She searched through the halls, passing by groups of Grimleal and servants bustling about. It was getting late. As she passed the kitchen, she could smell the castle cooks making dinner inside.
He wouldn't be anywhere nearby, that much she could guess. The kitchen was much too noisy, and if she knew her father, he would have liked to sleep somewhere much quieter.
She was just about to make her way to the other side of the castle when the doors to the kitchen opened. Out walked another Grimleal mage. Aversa might not have paid him any attention, as she had to all the other Grimleal mages before, if it weren't for the bag he held in his hands–a bag that sounded suspiciously like caramels.
Caramels were father's favorite candy, Aversa thought. Is he bringing some to father right now?
If he was, then Aversa decided that her best choice would be to follow this Grimleal.
Of course, she couldn't make it obvious. Most of the Grimleal were irritable people. If he saw Aversa following him, he would get mad, so Aversa hid against the wall. She made sure her footsteps were completely silent as she crept across the stone floor. The shadows served as her cloak, and when the torches flickered, she moved, zipping across the hall as the Grimleal walked onward.
They passed through hall after hall. They turned so many corners, Aversa lost count, and though the occasional piece of furniture gave her a bigger place to hide behind, she could not rest for long, or she risked losing sight of her target.
Eventually, though, the Grimleal stopped by a door. One a few doors away from the Grimleal chapel, and, Aversa noted, on the other side of the keep from her room.
He knocked. A moment passed. Then, the door opened.
Aversa let curiosity take hold of her for a moment. She'd never seen father's room before. What would it look like?
She snuck closer to get a better look. From what little she could see, the room was bright and warm. She could faintly hear a sharp crackling, though she couldn't see a fire burning anywhere, and at the center of the room, she saw a small bed. A little small for what she would have guessed father's bed to be, but maybe she was just seeing things. Before she could check, however, the Grimleal slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him.
Aversa huffed, and she made herself comfortable against the corner. A minute went by. Then two.
Finally, the door opened again. Light spilled out from inside, and Aversa pushed herself further against the wall to avoid being seen. She watched the Grimleal leave without a word, and she listened to his footsteps fade as he strolled out of sight. The second she was sure he had left, Aversa rushed over to the door. She reached up to open it, but she stopped when she heard someone talking.
"Robin, why don't you calm down. Here, if you calm down, I'll give you this caramel."
"I don't want it!"
"Now Robin, that is no way to treat me. I am your father. You will listen to me, or I promise you, you won't like living here at all."
"I don't care! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"
A smack echoed in the air. Aversa's jumped at the sound. She flung open the door, afraid of what she would find.
The boy had attacked her father. He stood at the edge of the bed, his arm extended, and his face twisted into a snarl.
Her father didn't look hurt. His eye was closed, and she could see his cheek glow bright red from the hit, but other than that, he didn't seem fazed at all from the boy's attack.
That didn't stop Aversa from rushing to her father's side.
"Father!" she yelled. "Are you hurt?"
Beside her, she heard the rustling of sheets. Her father cursed. Before Aversa could react, he shoved her away. Her back slammed into the side of the bed. She cried out in pain.
The boy did so too, all the way over by the door. He fell to the ground, his arms and legs wrapped up in a string of shimmering purple.
Aversa's head swam with confusion. When had the boy moved there? Why was he there? She glanced over at her father, hoping he would give her an answer.
"Aversa," he said. His voice sounded level, his face the same impassive line he'd always been, but beneath it all, Aversa knew he was angry.
Angry? Why was he Angry?
"Why are you here?" her father asked.
"I... I wanted to find you, father."
"I see."
"Father, you told me you would come to see me."
"I did."
"But... why didn't you come?"
"I was busy."
"You were busy last night!" Aversa whined.
"And what made you think I wouldn't be busy again today?"
"I... I…" Aversa immediately felt guilty. She fixed her gaze on the floor and again, she said, "Sorry father." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Leave us," her father said. "Maybe tomorrow, I'll come to see how you've improved."
Silently, Aversa trudged back to the door. As she passed through the door, she glanced back down at the boy her father had been busy with. He glared up at her, furious, as if it was her fault he'd tried to run away, and it was her fault she'd suffered the consequences of it.
She glared right back. The moment she pushed the door shut behind her, she let out a frustrated huff.
That boy. Somehow this was all his fault. Ever since father had brought him back, he'd been too busy to see her. This boy had stolen her father from her. She didn't know how, but he'd taken her father's attention away from her.
Then and there, Aversa decided she hated that boy.
I know this update's a few days past Saturday, but I had to deal with a few life things first, so the fic had to wait.
Anyway, I've decided that, until I get those life things sorted out, I'll probably only update every other Sunday, if only so I could keep my sanity and proofread my work before sending it out into the world. The first draft of this chapter was an unreadable mess, so I spent all of Monday trying to get it to work. It's still not one of the better things I've done, but hey, at least people could read it without wanting to throw all their silverware into a ditch.
As always, thanks for reading. I wish you all well, and stay safe.
