[center][h1]Before Sparkfall[/h1][/center] [hr] High up in the World Tree, where mists clung to the air in heavy curtains despite the ever present sun, an infant wailed. Pure, strong, wonderful- The sign of new life in all its glory. It was a cause of celebration! That the Goddesses touch was with them and a healthy child would soon babble, crawl and walk underneath the bows of green leaves. Yet, there came no joyous singing. Only a long wail. “She’s losing too much blood!” A woman shouted. “You don’t think I know that!” A man snapped back. “We need- we need cloth!” A dazed woman stuttered. “Then go and find some!” The man screamed. The room was full of chaos. Red hair in tangles, hands dripping wet, bodies going to and fro. A baby screamed her lungs out, swaddled and cradled to no avail. Another baby, silent as stone, was being rubbed by panicked nursemaids. “She isn’t breathing!” The one holding her said. Hands shaking as they worked upon the small back. The babies white legs dangled lifelessly and despite the deformities, she did not wish to see life taken too soon. Or at all. “I know-I know! Just keep rubbing. We need her to breathe- we need-” The other nursemaid was cut off by a small gasp and the baby began to cry. It was softer than her boisterous twin and they quickly swaddled her, taking time to dry her ivory hair. “I don’t know what to do.” The man said, his eyes wet with tears, as he held his wife’s weak hand. She squeezed back ever so slightly, a soft smile at her lips. “My babies.” She said, her demand plain as day. But he could see the pain etched there. Such pain. The crying twins were brought and nestled upon her bare chest. The man helped move the hand he held to the back of the fiery redhead, whilst his wife found the strength to cradle the other. The one who had caused such damage. The one that was so unshapely. The one- “No.” He found his wife, her skin wan and heavily prespirating, looking at him with such intensity- he felt his heart flutter. He knew that look all too well. One he was often to blame for and rightly so. It was easy being a fool. “You will not,” tears began to fall from her face, “You will not blame her. You will not blame [i]our[/i] Ida. Promise me.” At the sound of their mother’s voice, the beat of her dying heart, the babies had grown quiet. It was almost peaceful then, despite the commotion still happening around them. And despite it all, they became the only sight in the world to that man, that father. “Promise [i]me[/i], Kellam.” She said again, her voice breaking. Strain growing ever apparent. He felt his heart break further and he wondered how long it would take to completely shatter. He could never deny her anything. Kellam settled down onto his knees. He lay a hand upon the back of the one she held Ida with. His wife was so cold. With his other, he moved the loose strands of red hair from her brow and then cupped her colorless cheek in his hand. Cold, so cold but she smiled and blinked ever slowly, never taking her gaze off of his. She knew his heart better than he ever would. His shaky voice came forth, the weight of the words like an anchor, “I-I promise. Always and forever.” his voice broke and tears stained his vision. “I love you, Aoife.” He proclaimed, just as he did on the day they were destined to be with one another. Underneath the bows of a great green tree. Her smile grew faint and her amber eyes snapped to the sleeping babes. Kellam felt her hand give a gentle squeeze to Ida’s back. “Ayre and Ida. Love them… As I have loved you.” She looked back at him, eyes closing. “Always and forever.” Her breath became rattled and Kellam could only watch as the life, promised by the Goddess, passed from Aoife into Death’s hands. He dipped his head, the source of his joy extinguished. [hr] Ayre brushed Ida’s hair, as the two overlooked the vast green of their home. She always loved how the long white strands seemed to shimmer a light purple in the correct lighting. Her own orange hair was dull in comparison, even if Ida disagreed. She smirked but Ida fidgeted, revealing the bruise at her shoulder. Carefully hidden underneath her dress strap and she felt her own stomach drop. The smirk vanished and she sighed. “Why do you sigh?” Ida asked in a soft, quiet voice. As if she was sleeping but Ayre knew better. “It’s nothing.” She responded, attacking a knot a bit too vigorously, making Ida’s head jolt back. “Sorry.” Ayre said as she winced. “It’s not nothing.” Ida chimed. “You are worried for me. Again.” “That’s…” She began. Ida was always good at reading her. “Can I not be worried for you?” she asked quietly in return. Ida turned herself around, her pearl white horn caught a beam of light and sparkled. Her large violet eyes bore into Ayre and she couldn’t help but feel, as she always did, that Ida saw her soul and the truth of her being. “You are always worried.” she said, placing a hand over Ayre's heart. “It does your heart no favors. Too much worry, for too long and you will become strained, sister.” She said matter of factly. Ayre put her own hand on top of Ida’s and rolled her eyes. “You don’t know that.” Her sister’s hand was cold but would soon warm, if she kept it close. For Ayre was always borderline hot. Though, only others seemed to say so. She just felt… Normal. If that was a word she could even use. Ida gave a knowing smile. “I do.” She said, “Do not worry about this.” She used her other hand to touch the bruise on her shoulder. “They were upset and did not know any better.” Ayre gritted her teeth, she could feel her temper rising. Why did Ida always insist that it was never anyone’s fault if they hurt her? Or even worse, she just blamed herself. “Now you’re angry.” ida whispered, pulling back her hand. “Can I not be angry?” Ayre asked and Ida opened her mouth to speak but Ayra quickly followed with, “Don’t tell me that’ll be bad for my heart too, Ida. You know that the Goddess is ashamed of those who give and wear bruises. It isn’t right, none of it is! They do know better, it is decreed by the Goddess that violence is forbidden! No one should be touching you like that!” Ayre fumed. Ida looked to the floor. They had had this conversation, for what felt like months now. Everytime some Elfling jeered or made fun of Ida, they always felt the need to shove, or kick, or punch her. It boiled Ayre’s blood. And everytime it happened, she would chastise her sister for not coming to her. She still tried, even if she could just guess instead. “Why don’t you just tell me who it was?” Ayre asked Ida. “You know why.” Ida said, “It would bring no good.” “Watching you suffer in silence,” Ayre placed a hand on Ida’s shoulder, “Is actively bringing me no good.” And Ida said nothing. For Ayre had made it so, the first and last time Ida confided in her about the bullying, she had flown into a rage so bright, she had only seen red. Needless to say, those elflings had received their own bruises and she had gotten herself into trouble. Ida was mortified, if not at her sister, then for everyone involved. “Let’s go down to the forge.” Ida said, brushing away the topic and sister’s hand. Ayre felt her heart drop but she nodded. She knew they would have the conversation again and she so desperately wanted the outcome to change. [hider=Summary] We see the beginnings of two beastfolk elfkin, Ida the halfblood Unicorn and Ayre, the markedblood phoenix. Their story is just beginning. 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