▼ Seziah

[Fluffesu]

B A T T L E x R E F L E C T I O N
[Yael] Akacia vs Seziah the Eighth

...

(N/A - NRP battle)

Results: Lost the battle.
Word Count: N/A
JR Word Count: N/A  

[Fluffesu]

B A T T L E x R E F L E C T I O N
[Yael] Akacia vs Seziah the Ninth

...

(N/A - NRP battle)

Results: Lost the battle.
Word Count: N/A
JR Word Count: N/A  

[Fluffesu]

B A T T L E x R E F L E C T I O N
[Yael] Akacia vs Seziah the Tenth

...

(N/A - NRP battle)

Results: Won the battle.
Word Count: N/A
JR Word Count: N/A  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The Meeting

'Wear your nicest clothes.'

That was what Granny had said before she'd left a week ago, after informing Seziah that she'd selected a man to help tutor her in magic. It wasn't often that Seziah had arranged meetings, and though there were certainly many people about that she'd never met, she was rarely afforded the opportunity to meet them, and even more uncommon to have an arranged meeting. She didn't know him. He didn't know her. Granny would not be present to mediate. It could all turn out very disappointing for all three of them... Especially since-

Well, Granny was already disappointed in her, wasn't she? That was why she'd left, after all...

Seziah swallowed thickly as she ran her fingers over the four 'nice' articles of clothing she had hung up on hangers and stashed away in the closet of her bedroom. Two dresses from her father, a tight blouse, and a long skirt. They were nice. Too nice to be parading about town with a stranger who might not even like her. If she wore nice clothes out into town and got them dirty, and he ended up disliking her, anyway, she would have worn them and ruined them for nothing, and they would be dreadfully wasted-

She took a breath and twisted her fingers through a thick strand of purple hair. Granny wasn't someone she ought to disobey. And maybe the stranger would like her, if she tried very hard. After selecting her outfit, Seziah dressed, left her room, and settled in the main reception area to wait. There was no telling who exactly she was waiting for, but he wouldn't be anyone she recognized, which meant she would know him when she saw him. Most visitors to Granny's home weren't of the one-trip variety. She could at least take solace in that.

It took longer than she anticipated for her new instructor to arrive, and the time between only gave her ample opportunity to fret and wonder and worry. Perhaps Granny had told him not to come, after she'd left. Perhaps he'd decided he didn't want to deal with a worthless little girl after all. Maybe he'd changed the day? Would anyone tell her if he'd changed the day? He could have come already, while she was debating her outfit choices, noticed she wasn't ready, and then promptly left. That would certainly be disrespectful, wouldn't it? She wouldn't like anyone who kept her waiting unnecessarily, either.

"Are you Seziah?"

She twitched visibly at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. With her head down and gaze lowered, she'd hardly noticed anyone's approach. But sure enough a man stood before her, and her attention darted rapidly up to his face before dropping again. Someone was here for her. An especially short someone. He couldn't be any taller than she was, but somehow thinner. And older, most certainly. He stood only a few feet away, and though Seziah wouldn't look to his face, something in the air felt expectant. She nodded hesitantly.

Silence stretched between them. The man, who was really essentially an intruder in her home, made no further moves to introduce himself or explain his presence or confirm any missions he'd been given. He just stood there, close enough that Seziah could see from his waist down, and presumably looked at her. It took a handful of seconds before her fingers started to fiddle anxiously with the folds of her dress.

Was it rude to speak out of turn? Granny had told her to be on her best behavior, and that the man would lose interest in her if she was disrespectful or too slow a learner. Should she start off by potentially being disrespectful...? She inhaled. Her voice was quiet and controlled when she spoke, muted by the downward turn of her face. "If there is anything I can help you with, I would be honored to direct you."

"Oh, no. I'm only waiting on you. It looked as though you were paying homage to my boots," Her gaze flicked up sharply at the comment, then away again. "And I didn't want to interrupt. If you're quite finished with that, do you plan on introducing yourself?"

"Do you?" Seziah retorted. "You know my name. You have already spoken it. But I am still unfamiliar with yours and everything else about you. If you have come seeking me out, it only seems respectful to-"

A hand- Fingers tucked beneath her chin. Seziah's first impulse was to jerk away from the unexpected and unwanted contact, and she tensed in preparation to do just that and then explain why people who were unfamiliar with each other oughtn't go around touching. She didn't like it, and already she thought she didn't like him. But the press was insistent, and catching before she had the opportunity to pull from his grasp. With his fingers pinched at her chin, he lifted her face. "Only I haven't come seeking you out, have I? I was asked to teach you as a favor. But if you continue to look so disinterested, I won't bother wasting my time. And you've hardly any business telling me about respect. Look at me when you speak and when I am speaking to you."

Dread made her ears ring and her pulse beat quick and erratic in her chest. She wasn't fond of others touching her. She didn't know where they'd been; they could be dirty. And she'd never been able to convince herself to keep her eyes on another person's. It just made a whole new slew of knots bunch tight in her chest, so much so that she almost felt sick. If the man noticed this, he didn't care, even as Seziah squirmed pitifully.

She didn't think he looked too annoyed by her antics, though. Sez wasn't familiar with people like him, but the man held himself still, firm, and resolute? He looked like maybe this was something he'd been prepared for, or dealt with before. He wasn't happy, as far as Seziah could tell, but he didn't look angry or upset.

It was like... like he wasn't going to leave her be until something changed. She fidgeted. "I am Seziah." The words were soundless. Her throat was so tight that she couldn't convince her vocal cords to work, but the words were still there, and it made his grip lessen fractionally. There was obviously still more to be said. "I am grateful?" She tried hesitantly. "For your time and patience and willingness to work with me..."

She was supposed to be on her best behavior and work very hard so as to be worth something and have Granny's 'only chance' at a future.

"I will do my best to learn and be worthy of your time."

"Good." He spent another second holding her gaze and making her do the same. Then she blinked, and he released her. "My name is Diavel. It is a pleasure to meet and be able to work with you. Were you told that we'd be spending the day together? I'd like to give you an opportunity to join me in my shop and see first hand how we handle patients."

It was a struggle not to glance away, but she understood now that that was something unacceptable to this man. She crimped her fingers against her dress and gave a mute nod.

"Wonderful. If you're prepared, we can set out now. I don't want to dally."

'Prepared' felt like an overstatement. Seziah couldn't say what she'd expected from this meeting, or the others that Granny had hoped would follow, but right now whatever agreement she'd come into felt distinctly negative. She didn't think she was going to get along with Diavel, if he continued to insist on making her uncomfortable, no matter how useful his lessons might be.

x
x
Results: Met Diavel.
Word Count: 1307  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The Shelves

There were few opportunities to travel to and subsequently see the inside of any other building outside the one she resided in. While Seziah had, in the past, been allowed to go to the market with supervision, they tended to only peruse the merchant's stalls and never go inside of a shop. Diavel let her inside of his place of work without any hesitation. So perhaps he was not as wary of her as she was of him, a point that was further proved when he let her see all of his things.

There were big and little jars of medicinal herbs and ointments. There were small, silvery or ceramic-looking tools and trinkets. There were cabinets filled with soft, brown linens.

And there were books.

Never in her life had Seziah seen such a vast collection. Some were thin, and some were thick. Some were bound in heavy, designed leather and inlaid with tiny gems. Some were so old so that their covers had shredded right off, and the remaining pages needed to be tied together. Some had looping, etched symbols that she didn't even recognize. Sez couldn't read, and the tomes held little use to her, if she couldn't do with them what they'd be intended. But she thought the rows and rows of perfectly aligned books were absolutely beautiful.

The first time she was in Diavel's shop, he did not offer her a closer look. Instead, he bid her to try and remember as much as she could and listed off the names and properties of the herbs in the little jars, and symptoms for certain sicknesses. He talked about himself a bit too, and told her that if she wanted to be a healer, there was much to learn.

Seziah had to talk about herself a bit also. Diavel wanted to 'get to know her,' but Sez didn't think she had as much of import to say.

For the first few of their weekly visits, it continued on like that. When customers came in, whether for medicine or immediate care, she was allowed and encouraged to speak to them, as well. Some of them were as muted and cordially polite as she considered herself to be. Some were very friendly with Diavel and spoke to him like they knew him very well. Some of them were rude, and when she tried to mimic that particular behavior, Diavel sternly reminded her that many of these people were sick, and that as caretakers, it wouldn't do to be anything but as kind as could be managed.

Despite her first impression, and the few moments when Diavel did manage to accidentally be unpleasant, Sez decided she liked him.

He was very reasonable.

On her fourth visit, as she stared up at the shelves of his library, he breezed by her, and without a moment of hesitation said, "You may take one home to read in your spare time, if you wish. I recommend starting with Herbs of the Coast. It's a decent enough starting point and will branch into a few of the more advanced tomes for when you're ready to take those on."

Seziah's silvery eyes scanned the rows. She had no idea what to even begin to look for. Was it a large or small book? Was it bound simply or ornately? If she selected one and was wrong about the title, would Diavel think her inadequate...?

If there weren't so many to choose from, she might have given it a try.

Instead, Seziah shook her head. "I cannot read." She didn't look back at him to try and judge his expression, but he was very quiet for several moments, and very still as well. She didn't even hear a brush of fabric.

"But I've asked you to collect herbs from the storeroom for me. They were labeled. How else would you know-?"

With a withered exhale, she turned where she stood, the leather of her shoes scuffing lightly against the packed clay of his floor. She clasped her fingers together behind herself, took a steadying breath, and slowly raised grey irises to meet his gaze. "You told me to remember them when you first showed them to me, and so I have."

"So you have," he repeated. His tone had softened with those words and deepened as well. His lashes flit down to half-mast, and his gaze slipped to the floor. Seziah expected this was how Diavel looked when he was 'thoughtful.' Or maybe contemplative? At least the healer didn't look displeased with what she'd said. Though maybe he was deciding what to do with her next... Her gaze dropped to the floor as well. He would not want to continue teaching her if he considered her inept. She hadn't wanted to lie to him, but now he knew she didn't even have the basic skills he'd thought she had. Diavel might not one to teach someone without the ability to even read.

Her fingers curled in the fabric of her dress. "I could try to learn," Seziah reasoned, her own tone low and flat. "I can read my name. I have seen it on the packages. No one has taught me how, but your collection is very lovely, and I would like to be able to read them, if I could."

Diavel looked back to her then, and Sez made it a point to return the gesture, despite the torrid swell of unasked-for anxiety that always accompanied meeting his gaze, even still. "You're very intelligent," he told her (and it was surely one of the greatest compliments Seziah had ever received). "But I don't have the time to run the repetitive letter drills that teachers do for their students. I can and will teach you, but it's something you'll have to devote a lot of your free time to, even when you aren't with me."

Seziah nodded crisply, immediately and hesitantly offered her mentor a delicate upward curve of her lips. It felt peculiar to do so, and foreign on her face, but it seemed to ignite some sort of response in him, just the same.

If it was the first Diavel had seen her smile, he didn't comment on it. "Come," he commanded as he strode briskly away from the shelves with the books that Seziah may yet one day be able to read. She strode after him hurriedly, widened gaze fixed to his back as they moved. "We will start with letters. Fetch a quill and a piece of parchment. And you're not to keep me from my work, nor are you to be distracted from what you actually came here to learn from me. You'll have to work twice as hard to keep up."

"Yes, sir. I can do it." It felt like a solemn promise.

"See that you do, Seziah."

x
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Results: Diavel elects to attempt to teach Seziah to read, and she agrees.
Word Count: 1138  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The Struggle

"Can you-" Thwak, thwak, thwak! "-hurry up!" The door that stood closed between Seziah and Sami did nothing to mute the other girl's shrieks. "It's not even your day to take a bath. Get. Out!" The metal door handle rattled viciously and impatiently, followed promptly by more thudding sounds of what Sez assumed was her housemate's fist hitting the wood.

Seziah's grey gaze slid from the pages of her book to the crack beneath the door. She hummed softly and slid into a more upright position in the basin, very carefully so as not to slosh the water and wet the tome's pages. In the past, she wouldn't have strayed from her allotted bathing time frame. They had a schedule here, and she knew her place in it. She was a good girl, Granny had said so, and she didn't like to make trouble or draw unnecessary attention to herself.

But Diavel had told her that she was an intelligent girl, and the more she learned, and the more of his books she could red and understand, Seziah decided that yes, she was an intelligent girl, and she wasn't so incapable as she'd been led to believe.

She could bathe on her own. She could cook and wash clothes on her own. She could go to market. She could write. These were all things previously done for her, and done at a time when it suited the doers convenience. Now that Seziah knew she could manage such tasks without aid, she decided she rather liked doing them when it was convenient for her. Sami apparently disliked the new tactics, but Seziah had never especially liked the other girl to begin with and had already decided she simply didn't care what Sami wanted.

Wetting her finger against the moisture at the side of the tub to better facilitate the flip of a page, Seziah hummed, "I will be out soon. There is no need to scream."

Sami promptly did just that, yowling out the injustice of the world while slamming her hands on the door and rattling the handle. She was so obnoxious and so loud. It was difficult to focus with the other girl wailing just outside the door. And Sami was stubborn, she likely wouldn't leave before Seziah did, and Sez would have to pass her to escape the washroom...

Any task that involved even the thought of Sami used to be daunting. She was reckless, fearless, mean, and had no concept of her own or anyone else's safety. They'd never gotten along, and Seziah had never been able to do anything accept avoid and fear.

She didn't think that was the case now. She was an intelligent girl; Diavel had said so, and so she was capable of solving her problems head-on. And she would not be afraid of Sami.

Seziah spent several more minutes in the bath- not reading, since her unhinged housemate made that impossible, but enjoying the feel of the water and the scent of her bath soaps, and the sensation of being clean. She'd already decided that she was going to bathe every day, now that she didn't feel as if anyone could stop her. Maybe twice, if she was feeling especially bold. Like she was now.

Stepping from the water, Seziah collected her towel and wrapped it about her chest. She cradled her book in one arm and tucked it close to her, so as not to be an easy target when Sami attacked, as she undoubtedly would. But Seziah was an intelligent girl, and she was not afraid.

She strode toward the door and was immediately rewarded by a lull in the screeching as Sami heard her shifting about and coming close. Seziah took a slow, deep breath, help it until a count of five, and then exhaled. Her magic was still new, but not as foreign and strange as it had initially felt. Diavel had shown her a small handful of spells, and she'd read of a few more in one of his books. She was no master, but she was proud of what she did know. With a quiet murmur of a spell word, she drew power to her fingertips and notched open the door.

Sami had a great tendency to be wildly unpredictable in her exact actions, but her moods were far less so, and recently Seziah had realized she could learn to expect the type of thing she might do. The instant the lock clicked out of place, Sami's weight slammed into the door and she barreled in.

Sez took a step back to give herself a moment of space and thought, but Sami was on her as erratically quick as ever. "Little mistress Seziah." Both Sami's palms slammed to either of Sez's shoulders, knocking her backward. She staggered, but remained upright and willed herself to be resolute enough to look to the other girl's face. A spear of trepidation lanced from her gut to her throat, and she stalled. "Think you're better than everyone else now. Cause you can read and a man from the outside wants to talk to you."

Another push. Seziah swallowed and tried to reign in her focus back to her magic. Sami always wore such intimidating expressions, ones that Seziah didn't have a name for... "Think you can take up my time, and do whatever you please-"

"Yes." The word came soft, but sure from her lips before Seziah thought she was ready for it. But once it was out there, she decided it was true, so she repeated it. "Yes, I am a grown, thinking woman. I will do what it pleases me to do. I will read and bath and leave this place when I am able, and you will not."

Sami's face contorted, then, and when she lunged, it was with her whole body, her fingers crimped like talons, and with her teeth bared like she might dive forward and rip Sez's throat.

She did not get so far.

The magic gathered at Sez's fingers emitted like a pulse, rippling out from her and coating the ground at their feet in a thin layer of ice. Where Sami's feet touched the floor, it caught at her, trapping her ankles and sending her smashing to the ground with her own momentum. She yipped loudly, and lay stunned for several moments, with wide, crazy eyes blinking up in stark confusion at Sez.

When Seziah stepped around her, she gave Sami a wide berth, so that even when the other girl's fingers started o claw and scrape for her, she couldn't reach. "And I do not think I am better than everyone. Just better than you."

Sami shrieked. Sez didn't look back at her, but she heard the other girl scraping and clawing and battering at the ice crystals with all of her limbs. "Litanu will punish you," she spat as Seziah crossed the threshold of the washroom. "I'll make him, and you won't think you're better than no one no more. You'll regret this, stupid witch!"

Maybe Seziah would have believed her, but already she could pick out something wrong with that statement. She was not stupid. And she was not afraid.

x
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Results: Seziah and Sami have a scuffle.
Word Count: 1201  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The Tear

Two months after her sixteenth nameday, and despite what she'd been told about being able to live on her own once she was sixteen, Seziah still stayed in her home with the Others. One day, she would leave. One day soon. But perhaps not as soon as she'd initially thought. When Sez had been told she could move out on her own, she hadn't known Diavel, and his tutelage and support were invaluable now. She couldn't strike out on her own, move out into the forests, and live far away from this city until she'd absorbed everything she could from him.

Even if it meant continued residence with the Others. Though even they seemed less invasive now that they weren't a large (or even noteworthy) point of her focus. Seziah still saw them all, of course. How could she not, when they shared a house?

But with her age and Diavel's very important trust came more freedom. Seziah was allowed to walk the distance between the Institute and Diavel's shop on her own, a practice previously forbidden, so that she could visit him at her leisure. She found that so long as she didn't forget to lock her personal quarters securely behind herself before she departed, Seziah enjoyed spending much of her time with the older healer. All hours of the day. He hadn't turned her away, yet.

'I will be back the next day and the next day and the next,' she'd promised, and hadn't once broken it.

On one such return trip, she found herself carrying not one, not two, but a small armload of Diavel's book collection. Seziah was deemed capable of caring for his tomes and so could take home as many as she could manage, so long as she returned them in the same condition she took them in. It wasn't as if she could read even one of them in the span of time between each of her visits to his shop (though very few of Diavel's books felt beyond her comprehension now), but she liked to look at them, hold them, and rather selfishly wish that they were hers.

Some day, she would have her own collection, maybe the same type of some day as when she moved away from this place. There were many good things to look forward to.

But not today, apparently.

Today, when she clicked open the door to her room- a safe, secluded place of privacy- Sami was there, looking as unappealingly malicious as ever. And more importantly, sorely out of place. Seziah felt a torrid swell of anxiety erupt in her chest the instant she saw the other girl. This was her rooms, hers. How had Sami gotten in here? She'd never been in before- Or had she? Could she come and go as she pleased, without Sez about to stop her? She knew she didn't belong. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. This was her room.

A few months ago, Seziah would've screamed. She would've fought the other girl as Sami did with her: hair pulling and clawing and wailing. No one was allowed to be in here. It was hers, hers, hers. But that was not how well-manged, adult girls behaved. She had to be reasonable always, and not 'irrationally' offended when others upset her sensibilities.

That was what Diavel said, and she trusted that he was right.

So Seziah tempered her tongue, swallowed back a knot in her throat, and pinched her hold tighter around her cargo. "You are not supposed to be in here," she informed the other girl, her voice maintaining the same, consistently droll note it always held. She wasn't sure if she wanted to ask questions. 'How long have you been in here?' 'Do you do this often?' 'How did you get in at all?' Maybe they would be more important once the threat was successfully removed.

For now, she felt like she was walking on eggshells. Sami was vicious and inconsiderate of other peoples' things. If Seziah made her angry, she could shatter her jaws, crumple her papers, or do something worse to her sheets.

Seziah would do nearly anything to keep her precious belongings from being ruined.

Sami grinned, the most feral show of teeth Sez had ever seen, and slouched back, plopping the full of her body onto Seziah's bed. "Does it make you maaad?" She crooned. 'Mad' wasn't quite the word Sez would've thought to describe her feelings. 'Mad' made her want to scream and hit people. 'Mad' felt hot and inextinguishable. She didn't think she felt 'mad.' She felt small. And concerned for how badly her things could be ruined. Anxious and helpless. But Sami didn't care for those differences. She continued, "You made me mad too."

The other girl slopped sidelong against Sez's sheets and reached for the drawer in her bedside cabinet. She rummaged through it, pointedly keeping her gaze from Seziah as she poked and prodded and the assorted trinkets within. "You took up my time and my space, and I told you you'd get punished for it."

Sami knocked a pillow from the bed, and nothing in Yael could've stopped Sez from diving to try and catch it before it hit the floor. But Sami dove too. She lurched from the bed and smashed her weight forward, dropping down atop Seziah's frame where they tussled in a messy tangle of hair and nails. Her pillows, her things- Sami was going to ruin them. She hated ruined things. She hated people touching her things. This never, ever would've happened if Granny was here.

All it took was an uninvited guest in her room to feel like 'child' Seziah; anxious, stupid, helpless, worthless. The time she'd spent with Diavel may as well just not have happened. They were her things. This was her room. Everything would be ruined.

"Get out!" Seziah shrieked, squirming beneath the older girl until Sami plopped down right in the middle of her back and caught at both her arms, using the full of her weight to pin wriggling appendages between her and the floor.

"Do you still think you're better than me?" Fingers curled in the back of her hair, smooshing her nose down into the packed clay of her floor and dragging at her hair to rub Sez's face into it. "I'm not the one eating dirt, am I? That's what worms do. Worms eat dirt. I'm better than a lowly, dirt-eating worm."

Whatever this was was an entirely new and unfamiliar sensation. It felt a bit hot, like anger, such that it made her throat tighten and her stomach sink, but worse somehow. Whatever this was was vastly more unpleasant. And it was a gaping hole that she was stuck at the bottom of and sinking ever lower, burdened by dark, heavy tendrils that she couldn't shake. It suppressed every once of coherent thought. It muted the bubbling brook of her magic, and it left nothing but a heavy tension.

"Tanu! Tanu!" Seziah could see nothing but the dusky, dark particles of dust and dirt before her eyes, but she was vaguely aware of the sound of her door clicking shut with a silent finality, despite Sami's weight still very present atop her.

She wanted to sink into the floor at the sound of boots just at the side of her head, but no magic could manage that, and even if it could, she wouldn't have thought to call it.

"It's disappointing, isn't it?" Litanu's voice wasn't very deep for a man's. Sez hadn't even noticed until she'd had the opportunity to hear the voices of more than just her housemate's. His was kind of nasally and snarky. His voice was as perpetually displeased as his expression. "When people tell you that you can do and become something that you can't." She assumed it was his finger dusting the backside of her still-clothed rib cage. "You were unloved when you were born. You will die unloved, and that's how it will be for everything in between. Worthless little girls do not get love or affection."

Sami wriggled atop her in what felt suspiciously like excitement. But the heavy chill that had previously kept itself in Seziah's chest blossomed outward, spreading like a disease and infecting everything with dread and hopelessness.

She heard more than felt the shred up the side seam of her dress, but at that point, it was almost expected. Nothing was sacred in this place. Never before had she ripped one of her garments, because everything in her possession was precious to her. But to Sami and Litanu, her possessions were only worth as much as she was.

Nothing.

Worthless little girls did not get nice things. Worthless little girls did not have their own rooms or privacy. Worthless little girls could not lock people out and think they were better than everyone and expect to go free and unpunished. Seziah had never thrown any of her things away, but she threw away that dress. And the next time it was 'her turn' to bathe, she took care to scrub her skin raw, until tiny pinpricks of red erupted with each swipe of the sponge from the force she used it with.

At least red was a very nice color.

x
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Results: Worthless little girls can't go unpunished.
Word Count: 1547  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The Move

Seziah decided she wanted to leave her room as little as possible.

It was different than how it'd been during her first several years at the Institute, when she'd preferred to stay in her room because there was nothing to do beyond her doors and she didn't care to interact with the people available to her. Now she refused to leave because something terrible might happen to her if she did. So long as she stayed in her chambers and watched the door, no one could come in uninvited. No one could surprise her. She'd never needed companionship, anyway. Just her things.

Even if Litanu had a key and could enter as it pleased him, at least she would know. She would see him, even if it didn't feel within the realm of possibility to stop him. Fortunately, he hadn't bothered her again, yet, and neither had Sami. Seziah stayed to her room, and so didn't see much of anyone. If her other housemates noticed her absence, they did not care enough to seek her out.

Did Sami and Litanu talk about her? They must have at one point, since Sami really had been angry enough to tell him about what Sez had said...

But maybe she wasn't worth their time, now, so long as she wasn't being a nuisance and offended Sami. Maybe they cared to see her as much as she cared to see them. If she never come out, maybe they would leave her alone. Seziah supposed she could stay here forever; she didn't have anywhere else to go, and she'd always been told that it would be too difficult for someone like her to live alone, anyway.

Even though she was sixteen- an adult- it would be too difficult. She wasn't smart or talented enough.

Seziah leaned her back against the door that led beyond her bedchambers and tilted her head up toward the ceiling. She really had no way of knowing who had lied to her. Grany said she could leave when she was sixteen, but she wasn't prepared enough for it. Diavel called her 'intelligent,' but she couldn't even convince her own body to work with her when she'd needed it to. She'd been too distracted. Sami had known she would be.

Intelligent girls did not let people like Sami take advantage of them. It felt as though she really was incapable of caring for herself. All the time Granny and Diavel had wasted on her trying to make her 'better' couldn't even be returned to them. It was as Litanu had said. She was useless and burdensome.

It was better for her and everyone else like this, if she stayed out of the way.

But she could still hear the Others, from beyond her closed door. Her room was not especially far from their home's entryway, and so anytime anyone left their rooms to move about, she could hear the in the hallway. She heard Devello's raucous complaints about the lack of maintenance on the house. She heard Sami's cackles as she speared a spider with a fork. And she could practically see Mackell and Smudge standing by more quietly, participating in their own activities.

No one paid a girl they couldn't see any mind. They may as well have forgotten her, and Seziah decided that suited her just fine. So long as she wasn't starved, she didn't need to be a part of their group. She never really had.

With a slow, withered exhale, her gaze dropped back to the floor.

"Is Seziah here?"

The words were so clear and unexpected that once they'd been voiced, she thought she hadn't heard them at all, but they made her heart race and her body tense, all the same. For a moment, she strained to hear more, or any other sign that that vice had been real. She sat as still as a statue, with her back to the door and her head cocked just so-

"In her room," that was Devello's voice, a stiff grunt laced with something like dissatisfaction. "Just there."

Another moment of hesitation. "Is she well?"

"How should I know?" Devello snapped back. "I'm not the one to be looking after her, am I? Ask her yourself."

Would he? Seziah shifted where she sat, gingerly rearranging herself so that her knees were beneath her and her body faced the door. She leaned forward, touching her ear to the wood. Would Diavel seek her out? She had not been to his shop in may days now. Was he worried for her? He thought she was sick... Or. Her pale gaze flicked toward the top of her dresser, where the books she'd been carrying with her still sat, untouched from that day. He could just be worried about his possessions... She couldn't begrudge him that.

But she decided she also wasn't about to give them back. She wanted them. Diavel's books had always been lovely, and if holding onto them meant he would have to keep coming back to get them, she couldn't return them. Couldn't. Diavel would not forget about her.

"Seziah." His fist rapped against her door. She didn't move. "Are you awake? It's been a week since I've seen you. I wanted to make sure you weren't ill and had made it make back here last time. Though I suppose you have, if you're in your room."

She still didn't move. Seziah was no liar, but if he thought she was asleep and went uncorrected on that account, it hardly felt like her fault. Diavel waited a few moments for her to respond before the sound of his palm layering audibly over her doorknob reached her. There probably wasn't a time prior that she'd ever gotten to her feet so quickly. But a moment later she was standing a pace back from the door, with Diavel in front of her, and her gaze trained on his boots.

"You are awake." His voice was light, like a gust of wind. Relieved, Seziah decided. "Good. Why didn't you answer me?"

"My apologies." When Seziah spoke it was as scratchy and rough as sandpaper. She hadn't even known her mouth was so dry and that two words could make her throat feel so achy... Not that she'd spoken at all to anyone since she'd found Sami and Litanu in her room. She did not look at him when she spoke, as if it was their first meeting all over again. Diavel noticed immediately.

"Are you hurt?" He prompted, the relief already dissipated. "Are you hurt? Did something happen?" Diavel moved in closer, and she watched the shadow from his arm raise to meet her chin, but she stepped back and away, and folded her arms before herself.

Seziah had never been a liar. She didn't know how to explain precisely what had happened, but it had been something, and it left a peculiar type of unusual 'hurt.' So she nodded. "They were in my room. Sami and Litanu were in my room, on my bed, when I got home from your shop that day." Sez kept her gaze down. "They told me I was worthless and unimportant and unwanted. And because no one cared about me, they could do whatever they wanted. No one would stop them, because I am worthless, and I should be so lucky as to make anyone feel good. They pushed me on the floor. And rubbed my nose in the dirt, and tore my dress. I had to throw it away. They dirtied it terribly. And it did hurt."

Her gaze flicked up briefly to Diavel's unreadable expression, before it darted back down, and Seziah gestured vaguely at her midsection. "Here. And my arms." She held one out to them and tugged the sleeve back just enough to where the indents from Sami's nails were visible. "And I didn't-" The heat in her face and the rapid constriction of her throat cut her off from saying more. She really did feel ill, then.

The older healer was quiet, and Seziah couldn't bring herself to look at him to try and judge what he was thinking. "Pack your things," but his voice was a soft and foreign note. "All of them. If it is acceptable, you may stay with me and my wife. If it isn't, I will find somewhere else, but you don't need to stay here."

Seziah did look up, then. She had nowhere to go. Her parents had sent her away, and Granny had left her. Diavel hadn't known her but for a handful of months, so he had yet to know her.

She was a burdensome girl, and she couldn't force that on him...

"Hurry along while I share some words-" That single syllable was like a cold spear of venom, and the expression that followed something more malicious than she'd ever seen on this man's face. It rivaled anything Sami could do. "-with your house master. I won't be long. Don't speak of it to anyone until I return. Do you understand."

The feeling in her chest wasn't as strong as fear, but it was definitely something similar. Intimidation? Diavel had never hurt her, but she did believe he could hurt someone, if that expression was one to go by. She nodded quickly and mutely, and only a second later, the man strode from the room.

Would he regret it, though?

Seziah hadn't meant to agree so readily, but... It could be nice to not live in this place. She did trust Diavel to some extent, and it meant she wouldn't be parted from his tomes so soon. If he decided he didn't want her, well... She could consider that later.

x
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Results: Diavel takes Seziah from the Institute.
Word Count: 1618  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The Garden

For nine years, she'd lived at the Institute, and for the seven before that, she'd lived with her parents. Seziah had assumed for a long while now that her next move would be to a place all her own, and that that would be where she'd stay for the rest of her life. Diavel's home was not in her life plans, and as they diverted from the path she usually took to his shop, Seziah realized she knew absolutely nothing about it.

Did he not live in his shop? Anytime she visited him, that was where he was. He'd also mentioned a wife that Sez never recalled meeting or even hearing of, prior to that moment. If nothing was what she'd thought it was, how could she expect to anticipate how things would turn out?

Already, this seemed far more complicated than Seziah was prepared for.

But since her option were between Diavel's home and the Institute, the choice seemed clear enough. Besides, she did like him. He'd never been cruel to her, and he was always very helpful while she was learning. Perhaps he wouldn't be so when he had to live with her, though. Her parents were pleasant too, during the short interims that they visited, but they'd been much less pleased with her during her time living with them, from what Seziah remembered.

"I could live in the shop, if that is less troublesome for you," Seziah invited once she realized 'home' and 'work' were not one and the same. "I do not wish for you or your wife to grow tired or irritated with me, and I could look after it for you while you were at home. I would be very careful not to break or touch anything, and it is a place I am familiar with..."

There was a fence along the dirt path that they trekked. It wasn't a long fence, nor was it especially tall, only about half her height. It led up the walkway on either side, met at a gate, then swooped out to encircle the house. Such a small fence would not keep anyone out. Diavel must have sensed her skepticism. "It's for pests," he explained. "My wife is a horticulturist." Seziah must have looked as equally perturbed by this as she did by the uninspiring fence. Diavel smiled. "She learns how best to grow plants, so that they will grow larger and stronger and have more favorable effects. The fence keeps pests out of her gardens."

"And you've never been burdensome to me, Seziah. I think you will be more comfortable here." He flicked open the clasp on the gate, then dipped an arm behind her, not touching, but present enough to encourage her forward. "I'm not trying to force you to stay here or anywhere else. If it doesn't suit your needs, you're free to go wherever it pleases you, but I do think it will be most convenient for now, and you are always welcome in my home."

She still felt skeptical, but it was perhaps the most encouraging thing she'd ever heard before stepping into one of her new homes. Diavel's house was not especially large, certainly much smaller than the institute, maybe smaller than his store as well. It's face was built from round stones packed into hard clay, and swatches of greenery dangled over the top of it and grew up the side of it. To her, it looked unkempt. But Diavel must have liked it. He was still smiling.

"Keyla?" He called as he stepped through the entryway. "I have someone here I'd like you to meet. And," he spared a sharp glance to Seziah and murmured more quietly, "Who would like to meet you, I hope?"

Wary. Seziah was certain that this whole adventure was one that had every right to inspire an uncomfortably strong sense of wariness. But since she had managed to escape the Institute, and was now basically an intruder in another woman's home, she supposed she ought to be on her best behavior for 'Keyla' as she usually was for Diavel. She still had to try very hard to coerce a smile onto her face before she nodded.

The woman that appeared before them was far from what she expected, though she really had very little to go off. But she'd assumed, somehow, that people who chose to live together would 'match.' Diavel was short, thin, and straight-laced. His wife was decidedly not. She was taller than him, plumper in every sense of the word, bespectacled and frazzled, with a dirty apron and many flyaway hairs and beaming so broadly that it lit her entire face.

"Oh, my dear! I wish you would've told me you were bringing someone home." Keyla bustled forward, slipped an arm over Diavel's shoulder, and leaned in close so that he could touch a peck of a kiss to her cheek."

"I am sorry, my love," he murmured. "I'll explain it all to you later, but please." He gestured for her to turn her focus to the young woman at his side. "This is Seziah. I've invited her to stay with us while it suits her."

Behind her spectacles, the woman's eyes were uncannily bright, even for their race. "Seziah," she repeated, her grin never faltering. "What a beautiful girl. I've heard so much about you. I've wondered and wondered when I would meet you, finally." Keyla made as if to touch, more than touch, she looked as if she might wrap her arms about Seziah's shoulders as she had for her husband. But Sez's body seized with tension the moment the motion started, and Keyla faltered before settling for a gentle arm pat. "You're very welcome here. Let's get you settled. In the spare room, Dia?"

He nodded crisply. "That'll do well enough."

Keyla set off, and Diavel gave Seziah an encouraging pat to send her after the older woman. "Diavel's mother used to live with us, so she stayed in the spare room, but she has since passed, and it's been empty ever since. It may be a bit dusty, but easy enough to tidy up, I'm sure. It will be nice to have someone else about to bring some color into the room."

Seziah could not help but notice their home was full of very many knickknacks, all manner of things for tiny insects to hide in. She hated knickknacks... But at least the people were nice, and so long as there weren't to be very many in her room, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Other than that, the house was as small on the inside as it was on the outside. It had an small living area, with two chairs and a fireplace, with a short bar area separating it from the kitchen, and two bedrooms.

One for them, and one for her.

"I am very grateful," Seziah stated as her guide pushed open the door to 'her' room. "I will do my best not to be burdensome."

"It'll be no trouble. Most of our guests are usually uninvited," Keyla chuckled. "I'm only grateful that you haven't come knocking on our door while bleeding out or sick with the plague." Seziah gazed warily and sharply around the room, wondering if those guests had stayed in here... But she'd been told it had remained unused since Diavel's mother's passing. Hopefully it wasn't her who'd been dreadfully ill. "Here, here." Seziah's gaze snapped to Keyla's hand as the woman patted dust from the bed comforter. She shooed particles from a small dresser, and flapped the heavy drapes that hid the window.

"There you are, darling." She bound the curtains back with a thick rope, so that the gardens outside were visible, and bright afternoon light streamed in. "Looks more welcoming already. There is a closet for your things, shelves for your books. I'll light a candle to help rid the musty smell from the room..."

She bustled about eagerly, but Seziah's gaze was on the world outside.

From the front, it had look treacherous and poorly managed. From here, Keyla's gardens looked... so colorful. Flowers and fruits and small birds with rapidly fluttering wings. Seziah had been to market. She'd seen the jeweler's wares, but even they had compared to the bursting array of light and hue from here.

"Your garden is beautiful."

"It is my passion," Keyla responded. Seziah tipped her head. "Something I love and cherish and would devote all of my time to to see it flourish. Do you have something you love like that?"

She liked to read, now that she knew how. She liked to write and clean and listen to stories about people. She liked to work with sand and the color red. ...But she didn't think she had a passion. Nothing she did would ever be so important, and she could make nothing grow. "I do not think so," she admitted. "But I like yours very much. What are those red flowers over there called?" She gestured out to a row filled with warm tones. "Red is my favorite color, but I don't see it very much. My father sent me beautiful red sand from there once, and some dyes as well."

Keyla's gaze was soft, and she patted Sez' hand lightly. "You will find yours one day. You're still young. There's no rushing finding where your soul lies. But you are always welcome to enjoy mine." She folded her arms in front of her chest and stood a bit straighter.

"Those are sun blossoms." Her lip quirked in amusement. "They're also native to Oba, grown on the banks of their sandy beaches and stretching to the horizon beyond. One of Diavel's patients visited there once, and brought these back for me."

There wasn't much else to be said after that. Keyla left her to set up her few items, then they reconvened for lunch and spent most the rest of the day learning of each other and whatever peculiar habits they had. Seziah trailed after Keyla while she tended to her garden, then shifted her focus to Diavel and helped him in his dinner preparations. They invited her to bathe, read, or do what she otherwise preferred to do. So she did, and then retired to bed at the usual hour.

When she woke in the morning, she was surprised to see the flower pot just on the outside of her window was filled with bright red flowers.

x
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Results: Seziah acquaints herself with Diavel's home and Keyla's garden.
Word Count: 1747  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The News

As they'd promised when she arrived, neither Keyla nor Diavel ever seemed especially offended by her continued presence. They were pleasant people, and both were passionate about their livelihoods and very eager to impart whatever wisdom seemed most suitable for the moment onto Seziah.

In the mornings, Diavel woke her when he rose, and they would walk to his shop together, where she would continue her lessons in the healing arts. Though she was never left to tend to things alone, he assured her that she was learning well and would, on occasion, let her tend to their not-so-grievously wounded patients with supervision, but without input. She felt
trusted and important with him. And the people she cared for were (while sometimes sour about their injuries) grateful for her help and generally pleased with her service.

If it was a particularly uneventful day, or one in which Seziah was easily distracted or restless, she might return to the house early, where Keyla would invite her into the garden. The older woman chattered endlessly about all manner of things. Sometimes she'd have complaints about the weather or commentary on how beautifully one of her species was growing. Other times she'd ask if Seziah met any 'especially nice' young men at the shop.

Most of them were nice. But few of them were young, and fewer were 'especially nice.'

Then Keyla's expression would shift to something close to a pout, but otherwise unidentifiable, with her eyes squinted, her lips pursed, and her little button nose crinkled up. To Seziah, it looked like the old woman wanted something more from her than that, but she had no idea what. So they resumed tending the garden. That, or Keyla would send Seziah on what she'd deemed 'exploration errands,' which consisted of market trips that would lead her into various shops and bring her into contact with various people as she hunted for dinner ingredients or a new tome or 'mulch.' Special garden dirt.

But all dirt looked the same, and sometimes Keyla could be very ridiculous. Still, if she was feeling restless or distracted, the woman was a good cure for it. Most importantly though, was that Seziah found it more and more difficult every day to put any weight behind the things Litanu and Sami had told her. She could be very useful, and Diavel and Keyla always assured her how talented she was.

Her new home was wonderful. These people were wonderful, maybe even her favorite of any people she'd ever met. Her routine, though far from what she'd done in the past, was fulfilling and standard enough that it didn't make her anxious, while engaging enough that she never felt bored.

So when Diavel's voice emitted from behind her closed door, a full cycle of the moon and more from when she'd first arrived, Seziah expected this day to be like the others before it. Instead, she sat up, and the wash of unpleasantness that overcame her was so immediate that she toppled back to the sheets. While many of her former housemates had not been, Seziah was a very clean girl. No rodents or insects or other plague-bringers entered her room, and she rarely took ill. She could not remember the last time she'd been sick, likely when she'd been very small and just learning how to manage her life in the Institute.

This could not be that. That had been a displeasing and stressful time, while this was a joyous one. They were not comparable. She was not sick.

So she shifted again, more gingerly this time and was pleased when the awful swimming of her head and turmoil in her stomach stayed muted enough that she thought she could stand. Briefly. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, it returned with such vigor that she couldn't lay back down. Seziah shot to her feet, covered her mouth with her hand and bolted from the room. Diavel did not even have time to greet her before she dropped to the floor of their washroom and heaved the contents of last night's dinner into the bin.

Diavel was behind her in the next instant, gingerly scooping her hair from the sides of her face and holding it at the nape of her neck. When Seziah spoke, it was into the waste bin. "I am not sick," she informed it.

It didn't respond, but Diavel did. "I can see that, Seziah," he said dryly. He rubbed her back while she took a deep breath and pushed herself into a more upright position. "Do you feel sick? I know getting it out can sometimes relieve a bit of the initial nausea..."

Seziah's eyes pinched closed, and she let out a muted sound of discontentment. Because in fact, no, she didn't feel much better. And despite her claims, she didn't feel confident enough to rise fully from the floor. This here, near the basin, felt like the safest location for her, at this point. Though it caused her some ounce of shame to do it, she shook her head, and had to admit, "I do not feel better." Or very well, at all.

"There, there, girl. It will pass. Keyla will make you some tea. Rest today, and we'll see how you feel tomorrow."

She spent the full day in the washroom. And then the next, and the next, and the next, and what felt like every day after. She was fairly sure she'd never felt so terrible. At least her body hadn't revolted against her during her last days at the Institute. She'd been miserable and in pain, but she'd been able to eat. It was nothing like now. Now it was nothing but endless fatigue, nausea, and a perpetually unpleasant taste on the back of her tongue.

When a knock on her door sounded a week after her traitorous body began to torture her, it was not Diavel who entered, but Keyla. The woman looked unnervingly hesitant. She settled Sez's morning cup of tea on the bedside table, then took up a post at the foot of her bed. "How do you feel this morning?" She questioned, eyeing the bucket Seziah had stolen to keep by her bed.

"Much of the same," she admitted flatly. "It is very unpleasant."

"I know, dear, I know. You've been drinking your tea, I hope?" When Seziah nodded, the older woman did the same. She folded her fingers in her lap and exhaled slowly. "May I ask you something more personal?" This was a peculiar statement, and Seziah immediately adopted Keyla's hesitance. She'd never asked such a thing before. The old horticulturist was very vocal with her curiosities, but Seziah was of a mind to allow the woman whatever she liked, for all the help she'd been. Sez nodded again, and so did Key. "Have you... bled recently?"

Seziah blinked. She bled all the time in the garden, from various cuts and scrapes from things in the dirt, but- Keyla gave a sweeping, open-ended gesture toward Seziah's nethers, and the girl blinked once, twice, before giving a slow shake of her head. "Not- not since I.."

"Since you left the Institute?" Keyla supplied, and Seziah nodded.

"Diavel spoke of it last night. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable speaking of it with him, but he does think you may be with child... If you'd like, he can give you a more definite answer after a check-up, but..." She reached for Seziah's hand and clasped it lightly. "I know it may not be what you want. An unexpected child from a man you don't love, who took advantage of you and put you down, it can make you feel-"

This felt- Well, Seziah didn't know how it felt. Keyla was saying so many things, and many of them seemed impossible. She'd never even thought that she could become pregnant... Such a thing was beyond the scope of possibility for someone like her, who was illsuited to something like companionship. "I will have a child?" She prompted, and Keyla's fingers pinched tighter over her palm.

"If it is too upsetting to think about, neither Diavel nor I would judge you, if you decided you weren't ready or just that you didn't want... this one. Babies are such a difficult, though important lifelong task, and it could affect you for the rest of your life, so if you would prefer to not concern yourself with these matters now, I know Dia has herbs that will take care of your needs before it becomes-"

"I will have a child," she repeated more firmly, but softer. "A girl," Seziah decided after a moment. "A girl... My mother said daughters were the most precious gift the gods could offer a woman. I should never have been allowed- But I am." Her fingers slipped from Keyla's grasp, moving to ensconce the yet-flatness of her belly. Oh. She couldn't even begin to express the swell of new and peculiar feelings that brought.

But it felt mostly like nausea.

x
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Results: Sez learns that she is pregnant.
Word Count: 1508  

[Fluffesu]

B A T T L E x R E F L E C T I O N
[Yael] Nivalis vs Seziah

...

(N/A - NRP battle)

Results: Won the battle.
Word Count: N/A
JR Word Count: N/A  

[Fluffesu]

B A T T L E x R E F L E C T I O N
[Yael] Nivalis vs Seziah Round Two

...

(N/A - NRP battle)

Results: Won the battle.
Word Count: N/A
JR Word Count: N/A  

[Fluffesu]

D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
The Losses

There was so much blood.

And all Seziah could think while she lay on the washroom floor was of a time hardly more than a week ago when she'd sat in Diavel's shop, with his magic washing over her while he'd checked to see if both she and her child were healthy that he'd said, 'There doesn't seem to be much activity, Seziah...' She could hear the concern in his voice and knew he was trying to tell her without telling her that something was amiss. Or perhaps he simply didn't know for sure (she wasn't especially far along) and didn't want to stress her out, if he was mistaken.

But since Diavel hadn't told her outright the grimness of the situation, she'd shaken it off. 'She is asleep. I am a good mother. I have been taking good care of her. She is the most attentive child, and always listens very closely when I talk to her. I can tell. But she is so small, and it tires her. She is asleep now. I am a good mother.'

Her repeated assurances must not have been especially convincing, for Diavel's answering smile was small and strained with worry.

Seziah had not thought on it again until this moment, as she lay on the washroom floor, while her body purged what had once been a tiny life from her system. Though the despair had been sharp and immediate, it felt eclipsed now by a dull, grey realization that she hadn't really expected much else. She'd wanted so badly, and been so happy, and so of course, of course it would be wrenched from her without hesitation. It always happened like that, though why Seziah didn't understand.

The question stuck.

Why.

Why, why, why?

She had never been deceitful or ill-mannered. She had never been hateful or cruel. Maybe she was never especially joyous, but she'd never hurt anyone, the way some people had hurt her. She didn't seek vengeance, nor was she filled with rage. She'd only ever been 'Seziah,' and it had left her hurt, abused, and in depair too many times now.

She didn't deserve this. She'd been a good girl, and had tried very hard to be a good mother, on her best behavior, even, since she wanted Diavel and Keyla to like her and see that she was not worthless.

But the gods only ever wanted to punish her, for things she did not understand. That was it, wasn't it? It was why her parents had abandoned her and Litanu had abused her, and her sweet, sweet baby girl had been stolen from this earth so soon. The gods didn't like her, either.

Fine. Fine.

Her devotion to these powers was bound to be short lived. If they were so intent on cursing her, she would leave and travel to lands that they could not follow. Her land was dark, gloomy, and filled with those who lived in fear of both their gods and what lay beyond their boarders. Seziah could not protect herself from gods, of that she was certain.

But other Earthlings survived out there, and she knew of at least one place that contained such beauty that it must be well beyond the reach of Lurin and Dafiel. She would go there. She would be safe, and she would try again with those people and their gods. Perhaps they wouldn't dislike her so.

x
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Results: Seziah loses her baby.
Word Count: 569  

[Fluffesu]

G R O W T H x S O L O
The Return

Seziah did not inform Diavel and Keyla before she departed. It wasn't necessary to do, in her opinion. They were an intelligent couple. They would understand once they saw her room devoid of its things, and Sez would not have to waste her time or theirs explaining how or why she'd decided to take this path. They might worry over her for a time, but it would pass. She couldn't imagine she would be anything of special note to them. She certainly wasn't to anyone else.

Before she set out across the sea, she did have just a few minor errands to tend to first- her parents. They'd not visited her since she'd taken up residence with Diavel and his wife, and Seziah had no way of knowing if it was simply because they hadn't come around, or if they'd lost track of her completely.

If it was the latter, she hadn't heard of any effort they'd made to fix it.

But it wasn't to quell any concerns about her whereabouts that they may have that led her to seek them out. She knew she needed coin, both for passage to the mainland and then to find a suitable living situation once she made land in Oba. Her parents had paid very much to house her at the Institute, which they would no longer need to do. Her father would also no longer need to send her gifts to keep her appeased during her time there. She wanted the money they saved in that regard to go directly into her pocket.

Since it would be just this once, it didn't feel as if it should be troublesome. In the long run, it was more beneficial t both of them.

Before then, she needed a way to Ilidan. Unfortunately, despite wracking her brain for alternatives, she came up with only one option; her father's gifts. Many of them were of little interest to people who weren't her, but things like jewelry or expensive fabrics could fetch a decent price. In the past, it would've pained her. It was all she had. But now it felt of little consequence. There would be more opportunities for better things, if she could only manage to escape this place.

She traded her earrings and necklaces for a ride upon a merchant's cart, who would travel straight through Ilidan and onward to sell his wares. Passing her once precious belongings into another's hand cause a bloom of anxiety. Her things, her things, her precious things. But there would be more, and they would be better.

She had to do this. There were no other options.

So she did. And she found that once they'd left her hold, they weren't so hard to forget, particularly when travel began. Seziah had been very small when she'd made the journey, and she remembered little of it. The ride itself was unpleasant, uncomfortable and filthy. Travel was a displeasing experience, but it did give her the opportunity to appreciate dense forests, great swaths of thick, beautiful grass, unfamiliar wildlife, and the greatest expanse of open sky she'd ever seen. Traveling was hard, but the road was beautiful.

Several days later, after having said farewell to the young man who was gracious enough to give her a ride (he was a bit of a stiff, but otherwise seemed friendly), Seziah stood on the threshold of her childhood home, where her parents still resided.

Should she knock? It was as much her home as theirs, she thought. She was their daughter, and had been born in this house, more than either of them could say. It seemed rude to enter uninvited, but she did anyway. The door wasn't bolted, and that seemed like invitation enough.

"Mother," She called out. "Father? Hello? Is anyone home today?"

Whether it was the sound of the door opening or her voice echoing down the hall, Seziah couldn't say, but she'd hardly gotten the words out of her mouth before her mother's head peeked from around a corner. Inala's eyes were blown wide, her lips parted, and her brows knit and confusion. "My dear." Then she was bustling forward to greet her daughter, though never close enough to touch. "Seziah, how did you get here? What are you- Why have you come? That journey could be so dangerous for you... Did someone accompany you? We haven't the space to keep many guests..."

"I have come alone," she assured flatly. "And I am not staying." The words weren't any different than what her mother would usually say to her. Tey might even be expected, but somehow, they made Seziah feel a roiling heat like smoke lick up through her stomach and into her chest.

She shook her head, and decided that if her mother wouldn't extend common pleasantries (she'd decided she liked them, after Diavel and Keyla were so talented at them), neither would she. "I traded a merchant my jewelry to come see you. It was no more dangerous than living in Pajore has been. Perhaps no more pleasant, either, but it was very manageable. I could do it again. And I will."

"I am here to tell you that you ought no longer send coin to the Institute to care for my upkeep, as I will not be staying there, anymore. You will not need to visit, nor will Father need to send me gifts. The people there have long since been unable to treat me well, and so I have left, and I will not be going back." Inala stared at her, so Seziah straightened, folded her arms behind herself, and continued. "I will go to Oba. There are nice things there, like the red sand and the flowers."

She didn't know much beyond that, but she didn't need to.

"Our gods have only ever seen fit to curse and punish me, and it is a life I cannot lead. If I travel across the sea, I can escape them-"

"Quiet, Seziah," Inala ordered briskly in a hushed tone, as though someone were listening to them right now. "You mustn't speak like that. It's foolishness-"

She'd expected this, as well. Never once had Seziah heard of any Yaeli speak well of leaving the island. Most seemed to think it was beyond treacherous across those waters, but to Seziah, it was more so here. "I am not asking permission. I wanted the payment you would send to the Institute to be given to me, instead. You can refuse, but I will still go. It will be difficult, but I will still go. If it is dangerous, I do not care. I will still go."

A long time ago, her father had promised to send her gifts, so long as she didn't speak ill of her living conditions to her mother. She wanted nice things, and so she hadn't. But nice things were impossible for her here, and she didn't expect to be sent presents, anymore. "I am not happy in this place. I thought I could be, for a time, but every opportunity for it has been dashed. I had a mentor who told me I was useful and intelligent, I had a child, but every time something good happened, something bad washed it away soon after. I am cursed, I think, but a curse will not follow me across the sea."

"And if it should take me before I make it, than I will accept my fate."

Inala was thunderstruck. It wasn't often that she had a 'full' conversation with her daughter, but it was as much her fault as Seziah's. Inala was, in Sez's opinion, a 'weak' woman. A weak woman who she had loved and loved and loved and tried so very hard to please so that she may be priased and loved in return. But it was never enough, and Sez's heart felt as though she may not love anyone at all, anymore. Inala's feelings meant so little to her now.

The woman glanced to the floor. She wrung her hands and smoothed thick curls back against the top of her head. Then, she nodded. "Y-yes, I understand," Inala decided at length. "If- if it is what you want, I won't stop you. Please wait a moment." She spun on her heel and fled quickly back the way she'd come. She was gone from Seziah's sight for the span of several moments before she reappeared with a jar full of coin.

"Here," she shoved it briskly into Seziah's grasp. "I have always wanted you to be happy and been so afraid that I couldn't give that to you. If I couldn't be a good mother, if I couldn't provide what needed to be provided, I wanted someone else to. I'm sorry, Seziah." She scrubbed the heel of her palm against her eye. "I've known for so long that you weren't happy there, and I should've put I stop to it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She touched her hands to Seziah's where she held the jar. "Take this. It'll make your father angry, but it was essentially yours anyway. Take it, and I won't tell him until he asks of it. You'll be long gone by then."

"And if... if you find time to send word of your arrival, any way you can, I would be appreciative..."

Then she did something that Sez could recall no one else doing ever. Inala lurched forward in a messy fasion, and touched her lips to Seziah's cheek. No one had ever kissed her before, not even like that, and Seziah felt a peculiar heat climb for her face.

"Go now. And be safe, Seziah."

x
x
Results: Seziah has lived her life as a relatively acquiescent girl. When she was asked to move from home because she was too burdensome on her parents, she did so. When her former caretaker abandoned her to live with her snarky and cold son, she stayed as requested. When her current caretaker abused her and told her she was worthless, she did nothing against him and agreed that he was right.

But the gods have recently taken her child before it drew its first breath, and to Seziah it feels as though the heavens are trying to keep her from finding any happiness in her life. For the first time, she has become angry. For the first time, she is prepared to ask for what she wants for herself, and for the first time, she sets out on her own, heedless of the consequences.

She has no upset or care left to give, and now there is only anticipation for what may lie across the sea.
Word Count: 1609  

[Fluffesu]

P R P x R E F L E C T I O N
Over the Ocean and Across the Sands

I have made land in the country across the sea. There is... much more to take in here than I would have initially anticipated. There are so many people and so many buildings. I stepped off the boat, and I felt nearly assaulted by what lay before me. How I am to build a life in something so unfamiliar? If I had visited earlier or had more knowledge before my arrival...

But I did not, and the choice was entirely out of my hands. I could not stay in Yael, where there was nothing for me but pain. Here, I will start new.

Though being so different from all others seems to upset them. Then again, different always has. During my initial explorations, I met with a young man, Tytus, who invited me to stay in his home and aid him where he needed it. It is not the work I was trying to seek, but because I need a place to stay and food to fill my belly, I will accept until I can find something more suitable for me.

I do hope this is the right choice...

Results: Seziah arrives in Oba.
PRP Posts: 14
JR Word Count: 189