{Flashback}{solo} We Cannot Fly Mother.

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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{Flashback}{solo} We Cannot Fly Mother.

Postby Corinth on June 11th, 2011, 5:40 pm

Day 17 of Winter 499 AV

BANG
The sun isn’t even awake yet. I rise quickly from my cot. I rub my eyes furiously. I still can’t seem to see a thing.
SLAM
“Mother? Is that you?” I ask the darkness.
“Corinth! Good you’re awake! Quickly child, where is that vile your father brought from town yesterday?” the darkness answers to me. It’s almost a joyful panic sort of voice. I am almost scared yet obedient to the wishes of my loving mother. I feel for my braid which hangs over my shoulder and toss it behind me so it thuds against my back reaching down to the small of it. Throwing back my sheet I place my feet onto the cool wood floor, and it is indeed cold. What hour is this? I would much rather have stayed in the warmth of my bed. I was just dreaming of my flying again. A running head start, a leap and through the air I glide. The children in town have talked about a people who live in the mountains that can fly. They have birds as companions and soar all over to get from one place to the next. It sounds lovely.
CLUNK
“Mother, why are you dropping everything? Please just stop, I will find it.” I say with a subtle irritation as I rise from my cot and feel on the wall for the matches on the nearest shelf. I graze the head of the match against the shelf and light fills the foot radius surrounding it. I quickly locate a candle with the sound of my mother rustling carelessly through bottles and trinkets all along the kitchen corner. The light from the candle fills the room with a faint light but everything is recognizable at least. My cot resides in the main room of our cottage opposite the door leading into my parents’ small room. The kitchen area resides next to their room. A small table sits in between my cot area and the kitchen with one book shelf against the wall behind my father’s chair. The walls are littered with shelves that hold mostly nonsensical things. I walk lazily over the kitchen and lightly nudge my mother out of the way so that the evasive noise she is creating can finally cease. I reach up to the highest most shelf, move a jar of spices out of the way and there I find the small corked vile my father purchased from some interesting character in the alleyways of Sunberth. The bottle is cylindrical and holds a mud colored substance.
“Is this what you were looking for Mom?” I ask her, again with a subtle hint of frustration.
“Oh yes! Bless you child! The gods most certainly knew what they were doing when they sent you to my womb.” She says this with a breathless tone as she practically swipes the vile from my grasp and holds it to her chest. I catch her gaze and she stares into my eyes with a small maniacal smile. Her eyes are pale like mine. However, unlike mine, her eyes carry the thought of a great storm brewing, where as I have a very flat blue. I can’t help but smile back and our gaze is interrupted by a rather furious yawn which escapes my mouth. “Oh bless me my sweet! Off to bed you go! Come now! Off! Off! Your father has left just an hour ago and has said you may sleep in today! Isn’t that wonderful my little hard worker?!” She playfully tugs on my braid and lightly shoves me towards the direction of my bed. I eagerly crawl back under my sheet and my mother brings a tattered quilt and wraps it around me. She sits beside me in my cot and tosses my braid out of the way and gently scratches my back with the tips of her fingers as she sings me a lullaby. I lay on my stomach taking in every word my mother sings. Each word creating a longing within me to hear more which fights with an overpowering feel of slumber. I fade slowly back into my flight. A rush of blue and white. Massive swelled clouds underneath my feet with the comforting warmth of the sun. The sun sings to me. And I feel most safe…

WHACK
“Corinth! Wake up! Wake up girl!” the very angry sound of my father jolts me back from the skies in the small cottage that is my home. “Corinth, you lazy selfish girl! Why were you not in the fields this morning?!” He stands over me as I lie very confused. I find myself speechless as I look up into the dark eyes of my father surrounded by dark thick lashes, hovered over by two very distinct bushy eyebrows. His face dirty and sweaty with the hair around his face creating a very wet frame. Was I dreaming or did not Mom tell me Father said I could sleep in?
“Mother said you said I could sleep in this morning Father…” I say with caution, “She said you didn’t need me today…” I slowly rise from my cot. My highest arc of my head reaches to my father’s hips but I try to stand tall.
“Your mother? Your mother told you that?” he asks me scratching his head rather bewildered. And he had cause to be bewildered, I was not a disobedient child when it came to the commands and wishes of my father. I always rose from bed when asked and always met him in the fields when instructed. “Why would she tell her that?” he mumbles to himself, “I could have sworn I asked her just the opposite… “He quickly turns to me “Corinth, where is your mother?”
“Is she not in your room Father?” I ask and my Father’s face says everything. Perfect. Just perfect. “Father, after you left this morning Mother found that vile you brought from town…”
“Did she drink all of it?!” My father interrupted me. His voice was panic and face was rage. I could not answer him for I did not know the answer to give it. And quite frankly my Father did not wait for a reply. He was out the door. I quickly grab my pants, boots and cloak and run out the door to follow. The sun feels warm and inviting but the mood set by my Father gave one a chill to the spine. I run to catch up to my father placing my hair into a tie.
--
It feels like we have walked for hours. We make it to a clearing atop a hillside. How my father knew where to find her I will never know, but there she stands. My mother stood at the crest of a cliff. It wasn’t too terribly high up but high enough...
“Erfe! What are you doing!?” My father calls out. The wind has picked up a bit. Though I am frightened beyond movement I cannot help but marvel at the beauty that is my mother. She has the look of a crazed Angel when she spins around to face us. Her hair violently flapping in the wind, she smiles at us.
“My loves! They have given me what I always wanted! The gods! They have granted me my one wish” My mother turns up to the sun. The sun smiles down upon her loving servant. I watch as my mother throws her hands out beside her like a pair of skinny wings. “Gods and Goddess’ above! I love and thank thee for this gift! This gift of flight!” at these words my father breaks into an immediate run towards my mother as she leaps into the air. I don’t know…did my father yell for her to stop? Did my mother float for a second at the least? All I see is a constant moving mass of hair and cloth fall out of sight. My feet are cemented to the earth below me. Am I screaming? Am I crying? Are my eyes open?
--
We found her. Despite my father’s constant demands for me to stay put I diligently follow him to her current place of rest. I see her first. A pile of brown and green softness with very little red. My father cries out and runs towards the body that was my mother. I cry out as well and follow him. Her hair is strewn across her face. My father picks up my mother and holds her close to him yelling to the heavens. There is no one listening. I know this. There is no one above watching for us. I hate the gods. Why would they tell my mother to leap and not grant her flight? I lift my hand to my mother’s face and remove the hair covering her eyes. Thankfully they are shut but what’s this? From this day forward I will never forget this face. This face right here. My mother’s serene smile. Was she flying? Did she know something that I do not?
--
Today we buried my mother. My father gave me my mother’s wedding ring. Few people came to visit us to send their “condolences”. I don’t want to see anyone. Their smiles and concern are so forced and I may be ten but I can see right through their masks. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the women don’t try to offer other sorts of ‘comfort’ to my father. I don’t belong here anymore. I know this. For I am Corinth. That is my name. And I don’t belong here.
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{Flashback}{solo} We Cannot Fly Mother.

Postby Archelon on August 29th, 2011, 7:57 am

Thread Award

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"Oh the children, the poor children !~! "


And the Results!!!!:
Corinth :
SkillName 1-5 How/why?


Lores:
A Mother's Memory: sadness of the heart.
Too much of a drug is a bad thing...



Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? :
Wasn't any skills here to gain. I did my best :( Hope you come back soon.
Thank you all for the privildege of moderating, unfortunately with deaths in the family and ailing health I am retiring. All thread grades I had on my pc have been forwarded to founders and paragon, so expect them posted soon.
It's been a mixed bag at times , but with all the good and the bad and mixed signals, I can honestly say: Thank you. Please support the next mods of sunberth as well as you have done me.
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