The Calm...

by **Wanda Endust** on January 7th, 2014, 4:13 am

The Maiden District -- The Endust Residence
82 Winter, 513 AV
13th Bell

"Where were you last night?"

The nagging voice was all too familiar to Wanda. It'd been present all throughout her life, never changing.

Wanda groaned. She was way too tired to put up with this. With a sigh and a grunt, she flopped over in her rock-solid bed and pulled the covers over her exposed ear. Her head was pounding from the night before. Another trip to the Stallion. Like all the other times before, she hadn't gone with the intent to drink, but had somehow wound up finding a pint of ale being sent her way. Then another. And another, all from someone who seemed determined to "get to know her better". Luckily for her, Wanda had good enough sense -- even in a bit of a stupor -- to skirt around his scantily veiled prying (in more than one sense of the word. She could've sworn she had to be flouncing around all night to avoid the fellow's grabby hands).

Though instances like that were getting more and more common for the girl, last night was still an exceptional case. Most nights at the tavern were tame, filled with stories from a local bard and sometimes a free drink from an admirer. And hey, it was free.

But now it was the splitting headache in the center of her skull that clouded her awareness.

"Hrrngh. Not now mom," she groaned, tugging the sheets tighter. All Wanda wanted to do was curl up and focus on the somewhat comfortable pillow beneath her head. from the feel of the cloth on her legs, she'd fallen asleep in her clothes, too exhausted to bother changing. At least she'd had the good sense to drop her cloak and snuggle under the covers. Now if only she had the sensibility to clean herself up. If she concentrated, she should be able to partially alleviate the pain with her hands...

Wait. What? Mom?!

Wanda shot upright on the mattress, flailing her arms as she nearly careened to the floor. There was no way -- her mother had been, for the most part, immobilized since the middle of Spring and had only gotten worse as the year progressed. Yet there she was, slouching on the edge of her bunk, a blanket draped across her bony shoulders. She was emaciated, her cheeks sunken. Her skin carried a pallor that stemmed from both the illness and from being inside for nearly a year. Yet there she was, lucid, alert, sitting up on her own.

And frowning directly at her daughter. "Answer the question, Wanda."

by **Wanda Endust** on January 11th, 2014, 4:51 pm

"I uh, I." Wanda sputtered, hands tight;y gripping the edge of the bed. Well that sucked. The first real words her mother had spoken to her in seasons, and they were angry words. Or perhaps they weren't really angry, just perturbed and demanding. It was almost like the good ol' days.

"I was... at the, uh. Tavern," she finally managed. What, had her mother been up last night too? Gods, and she'd been too "preoccupied" to notice.

The older woman breathed a deep sigh and ground her teeth a bit, visibly trying to keep whatever choleric thoughts she had going through her mind in check. "So you were drinking," she stated simply after a moment's pause, her voice dipping to the low tones of disappointment.

Wanda readied an indignant denial, until her throbbing brain reminded her that, yes, she had indeed been drinking. She might've explained the situation, testified that it wasn't a regular occurrence, defended herself. But she didn't. The mild shock hadn't quite worn off yet, and all Wanda could manage was a weak "Yes'm."

Her mother's lips pursed as she looked about ready to launch into a tirade about how alcohol was perhaps the stupidest invention man has ever created, when her clenched jaw suddenly relaxed. The heated expression fell from her face and melted into one of resignation. "Well, it's your life, I suppose," she breathed, shoulders slumping impossibly lower.

Don't be like that, Wanda urged silently in dismay. The only thing worse than an angry mother was a disappointed mother, and Wanda was muddling through far too many emotions right now to deal with either of the two. "Don't do that," she pleaded as she squeezed her eyes closed and leaned her head against the stone wall parallel to her bed.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't act like you don't care."

The woman cocked a tired eyebrow and waited a couple moments before responding. When she did speak, her voice sounded painfully small to Wanda's ears. "But it's true. It is your life and your decisions. If you want to waste it away in a tavern, then by all means, go ahead." The irate tone returned for the last few words.

Wanda sat dumbstruck. She was rather confused by the whole situation. She was having a conversation with her mother, who just yesterday could barely swallow a cup of water. The premise of the conversation also bewildered her a tad. Her mother had never said anything along these lines before. It had always been "Do as I say!" and "Don't talk back to me, young lady!" and the like.

"But --" Wanda began a feeble protest. "You're supposed to tell me that what I did was stupid. And that I'd better not do it again."

by **Wanda Endust** on January 11th, 2014, 5:02 pm

"Well it sure sounds like you already know all that," Mrs. Endust gave a snort, which turned into a cough and a hacking wheeze. Wanda's muscles tensed as she got ready to spring to her other's aid, but was waved off by the woman's bony hand before she could move. "I thought this," she gestured shakily towards her face, "would get you to realize that I won't be around forever. You've got to take responsibility for yourself."

"But I am taking responsibility!" Wanda protested. She had been taking care of herself and her sickly mother for the last three seasons! "I have a job, a good one. We have money now."

Mrs. Endust tilted her head forward, glaring at her daughter from under her gaunt brow. "And you think that makes you a responsible person? Wanda, I'm sorry I haven't been around for the last year, but you have to know that that's going to continue. I'm not going to be able to be around. You have to keep yourself in line."

Wanda was about to launch into another defense, but hesitated. It's going to continue? "What's that supposed to mean?"

Her mother's hardened gaze melted into one of pitying exasperation."You do know that I'm dying, don't you?"

What?

No she didn't!

If she did, she would have called in a healer long ago, despite her mother's protests. See, Alta Endust was a proud sort of woman. The first day she began feeling ill, in Spring, she had asked her daughter to promise not the seek the help of a healer. As the disease worsened, Wanda had only kept her promise, her thoughts tainted by some kind of denial. "Why?"

Wanda tried to say more, but the words choked in her throat. It was another moment before she was able to find her voice. "I could've gotten a healer! I work at the bath house, for Syna's sake!"

Wanda's mind was wracked by a vortex of emotions -- her mother had essentially just told her she was going to be alone. She would have to fend for herself. And she could've stopped it with a simple request and a few mizas! This shouldn't even be happening.

"Wanda, please," plead her mother as she tried to explain. There'd been a reason behind her actions, and she could only hope in time that her daughter would come to understand. "When, it's you're time, you know it. I knew it as soon as I got sick. There was no reason for me to try to keep living," she winced, knowing how awful that statement must sound, "because I had already accomplished my purpose in life, Wanda."

Wanda's body went cold as a feeling of loneliness echoed throughout her mind. Her arms and legs tingled, her fingers were numb. "And what was that?"

A small smile pulled at her mother's lips, probably the biggest one she could managed with her weakened muscles. "To raise a beautiful family." The woman chuckled, the sound seeming out of place in the moment. "Now, we might not the the biggest family, or the best family. But I've devoted my life to the next generation, Wanda. I bring children into this world. It was always my calling. But, after your father died, I knew that you would be my only child. As soon as I accepted that fact, I was content.

"You see, Dira knows when we've satisfied our purpose in life. I almost have, but there's one more thing I need to do."

That sure was a lot to take in. Wanda didn't know what to say. "But..." What was it she had left to do? And what did that even mean? Wanda was unfamiliar with Dira, other than the fact that she was some kind of goddess. Actually, if Wanda remembered correctly, she was the goddess of the afterlife. Or was that someone else? Perhaps she was the goddess of death? Undeath? (Wanda scoffed at that -- of course undead creatures were only tall tales. Fantasies.) No, surely it must've been death.

Either way, Wanda had never seen her mother act this way. Ever. Alta Endust was typically a headstrong, temperamental kind of woman, yet she seemed to have forgotten her earlier exasperation. Now, she held out a skinny hand and motioned to her daughter. "Come here. Let's talk."

by **Wanda Endust** on January 21st, 2014, 9:51 pm

Wanda obeyed. Her breath grew shallower with each step, and a buzzing vibrated in her ears until she ever so gingerly took a seat on the other bed.

Certainly this wasn't actually happening. Of course it wasn't. It was a dream within a dream -- she'd had them before. She only thought she'd woken up, that was all.

Part of Wanda knew that she was lying to herself, yet this was all far too bizarre for her to really believe. Even after the death of Mr. Endust, Wanda's mother hadn't acted like this. This... softness. Gentleness, even. Wanda might wear her heart on her sleeve, but it wasn't a trait she'd inherited from her mother. Stubborn. Neurotic. Temperamental. That was her mother.

And she was dying. But she was getting better? How could a person announce their own death when they were obviously so much more alive than they'd been in so long? And yet, if what her mother said was true... She was going to be alone. On her own. The last Endust.

One.

The thought was terrifying.

Of course, Wanda could navigate the city well enough on her own. She could earn her own money. Actually, she was practically already living on her own, and had been for the past year. After all, it's easy to forget that there's another person in your home when they're barely sentient. Barely alive.

But despite all that, Wanda hadn't been living on her own. She hadn't been totally self-reliant, and she hadn't been alone. Mrs. Endust, as unconscious as she might've been, had been a concrete presence. She was a constant -- Wanda could always count on her being there when she woke up and when she returned for the night.

Yes, Wanda was terrified of being alone. She was worried. She was confused. She could even say that she was angry.

Yet what unnerved her worst of all was the sickening sense of relief. As her mother shifted on the mattress, Wanda's mind trailed towards all of the things her mother had kept her from over the years. The older woman placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder and began to say something, but the words were muffled in Wanda's ears.

Did this mean that she was free? Finally free to do what she wanted to do without having to fear for anyone but herself?

by **Wanda Endust** on January 30th, 2014, 1:59 am

15th Bell

--

There didn't seem to be an end to the older woman's words, and she didn't seem to be saying anything of real consequence. Every now and again, Wanda would relapse into her own mind, struggling with her own emotions.

Her mother had brought up her impending death, but had since dropped the topic for some time. Now she was recanting some far one memory from her childhood, a story about the first boy she kissed or some such. To Wanda's bemusement, the woman had somehow avoided saying anything about her late husband.

The younger Endust girl sat twisting her ring, shoulders slumped. She'd since adjusted her position over the past two bells. Rather than being perched on the very edge of the mattress, Wanda now had her back propped against the wall, ankles crossed over the edge of the bed. She could feel the cold stone through the cloth on her back, but kept still.

She hadn't been able to bring herself to look at her mother for some time. The sense of relief, of fast-approaching freedom, hadn't left her -- now now its friend Guilt had found a home in her heart.

"-- Of course, Larson was nothing compared to Orek. Oh, what a handsome fellow he was. And quite dashing too, y'know. Met him at around fifteen, I believe. Was a squire, he was. A little too good with a sword, though -- your grandmother never did approve of him."

Wanda kept her eyes on her ring as she twisted it about her finger. Her father had given her the jewelry about seven or eight years ago. It'd been too large for her child-fingers then. It was still a smidgen too large now, but it no longer slipped off when she was walking. As she fingered the delicate gold, Wanda couldn't help wondering at her mother's story. If she kept along this track, the woman would eventually have to say something about her husband.

Was that what she was wanting anyhow? The woman hadn't spoken about Jarvis Endust in years -- if she were to bring him up, it would be fitting, but Wanda was disappointed that her mother had to wait until now of all times to bring it up.

A few more chimes passed before Wanda's musing were proved correct.

"-- And I suppose that brings us to your father..." The air in the room fell quiet. The only sound to be heard between the two was Mrs. Endust's breathing as it became more labored. While the woman had appeared unnaturally healthy for her condition earlier, Wanda had noticed her condition deteriorating once again throughout the course of the day.

Wanda paused the monotonous motion of her ring and lifted her eyes. Her father. The first thing she felt when she thought of him was an indescribable fondness. But there was also the sadness of losing a close friend. When she thought of him, her heart both fell and soared.

"Been a while since you thought about him?"

To Wanda's surprise, the woman shook her head. Mrs. Endust brought a gaunt hand to her sternum, where Wanda knew a dull flame-shaped lacun mark would lay. A faraway look entered the woman's eyes before a hoarse coughing fit wracked through her body and interrupted her reverie.

Wanda sat upright, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder in alarm. "You okay?" What a stupid question.

It was happening. Wanda could feel the end approaching, the air growing heavier around them. She felt as if she was moving through water, time slowing down, the blood pulsing in her ears in anticipation.

"I need to lay down," the woman wheezed, holding a hand up to her mouth and another to her temple. Wanda scrambled to her feet, sticking close to the side of her bed as she eased her mother onto her back. Once she was settled, Mrs. Endust grabbed her daughter's hand in her own.

by **Wanda Endust** on January 30th, 2014, 3:45 am

A shock ran down Wanda's spine as her mother's cold hand caught her own in a vice grip. "Mom?" The look in the woman's eye told the girl that she was trying to say something, but whatever words were trying to escape her died in her throat. It was unnerving just how quickly her condition had deteriorated -- it'd hardly been a chime and she was already struck speechless.

Wanda's heart raced frantically.

No.

She wasn't ready for this. Not yet. The woman pulled her close with a pointed look before her gaze darted over to Wanda's bunk and back again.

Her journal.

Wanda propelled herself across the room, pushed from the bed by what force her mother had mustered. The older woman still had something she wanted to say, but paper would have to do where words had failed. With a surge of urgent strength, Wanda flung herself against the mattress, using her legs to leverage the bed off of its frame in as little time as possible. She could see the canvas bound book peering at her underneath, just within reach. Wanda snatched it and let the mattress fall back into place as she easily gathered her quill and ink from the nightstand.

Her hands trembled as she leafed through to an empty page and collapsed back at her mother's side. "Here," she breathed, offering the tools.

Gods, this was it, wasn't it?

Mrs. Endust took the journal, dipping the tip of the quill in the open vial of ink. Her own fingers were shivering, but the older woman managed to keep her nerves calm enough. Calmer than her daughter's, at least.

She pressed the ink to the paper, the air silent once more as Wanda held her breath. Wanda's emotions ran wild for the next chime. The fear returned anew, erasing the uncertain aloofness that had tried to rear itself in the past couple bells. The relief was gone from her mind for now, though in the current moment she could only hope that it would return later. She didn't want to have to spend the next couple of days with this constant dread.

It wasn't long before the woman finished writing, the book falling to the side as she turned back to her daughter. Wanda inched closer, offering her hand which her mother gratefully grasped. The girl wanted to read whatever her mother had shared, but it could wait. Now that Mrs. Endust had written what she'd wanted to say, she didn't seem to be as troubled. Whatever she'd written could be read later. Now, the all the woman wanted was to be close to her daughter and wait.

And they didn't have to wait long.

It couldn't have been more than five chimes before Wanda felt her mother begin to quake beneath her arm. The pair locked eyes, and she knew. A tiny, strangled whimper escaped the older woman's lips as she slowly lost control of her body. Some muscles only twitched slightly, while others were wracked by full-blown convulsions, and Wanda held fast to her mother's arm.

The girl's next act was nearly instinctual. It broke her heart that now would be the time she felt closest to her mother, that now would be the bonding moment they'd both needed for so long. With some conscious effort, Wanda willed her djed into action. "It'll be okay," she gasped. The blood seemed to pound in her jugular, rushing through her veins and hammering in her ears.

She'd never imagined using Hypnotism on her mother before. It had often been one of those things that pushed the two apart. Now, it seemed to have some kind of positive effect. Her mother's breathing had come more and more laboriously over the past couple chimes. Though the woman's body continued to shudder uncontrollably, her breathing calmed. Eyes still locked, Mrs. Endust brought her hand to her child's face.

Then, with one sigh of finality, Wanda's mother grew still. Wanda felt the woman's hand graze her cheek and fall away.

A numbness grew in her own fingers.

That was all.

She could feel the blood drain from her hands and rush to her face as she reached for the journal.

The pages were wrinkled from where they'd been lain open on the bed, but Wanda had no trouble finding her mother's scrawling handwriting:

Wanda

There are many things I wish I could tell you right now, and many more things that I wish I'd told you before now -- but they are things that I'm sure you will learn with experience. All I can do now is leave you with this:

Trust yourself. I know that I stood in your way on a lot of things, trying to protect you. I see now that you never really needed my protection. Of course, that's always a sad thing for every mother to admit. I want for you to stay my little bird forever, but I think I see now that you were never my little bird to begin with. You are your own person, and you've always burned with a light that was difficult for me to understand. You'll do good in the world. No matter what you do, be the best you can be.

Don't let fear hold you back from anything. Ever. That's my last request.

I love you,

Mom

Wanda stared at the note for a while, reading and re-reading. She felt something warm roll down her cheek, but as it splashed onto the paper she realized it wasn't the bloody overgiving tear she'd been expecting.

She slumped to the floor and her shoulders shook.