Twisted Moon's Rising

Chapter Two: The Nott Sister's

Song; You Needs, My Needs, Noah Kahan

I returned to Trisye two days ago, preparing for the monthly meeting tomorrow evening. It's a time when the eight-nation leaders come together to discuss issues or needs. More often it is spent arguing with one another, unfortunately.

"Caustia, please." I plead with a frustrated sigh. I lean back in my borderline uncomfortable desk chair, I'm not too certain why I haven't gotten a new one yet, this one is old enough to be my grandfather. Sapphire's are in lines down both arms of the chair, the main of it made from a sturdy oak– much like the map table at The Castle of Sin. My gaze goes down the half-written report, a deep black ink spilled across it, covering most of the dried ink and smearing the other words that are still wet.

My annoyed stare goes back up to my younger sister, Caustia, who's standing there returning a sharp glare when my eyes meet hers. Her short brown hair has been half pulled up in two braids, silver cuffs decorating sections of them, making them more elegant. Trying to make herself look proper to the public. She craves attention to an obnoxious level, always looking for new ways to draw attention to herself, whether it is with her words, actions, or appearance. Not that any eyes go on her at all. I sometimes honestly wish they would pay more attention to her, it would take some of the spotlight and pressure off of me.

The teal eyes that were made so perfectly that they compliment her every feature, shine in the unforgiving bright rays of the sun, seeping in from behind me. My gaze moves under her left eye; she chooses to cover the light birthmark that's splattered across her under-eye and cheekbone. It's the same birthmark our father had, the only difference is he didn't try to cover it, and hide it. Only a small handful of people are aware of her having a birthmark. She seems to pick up on my look, and moves out of the sun, the small portion of her birthmark that was being highlighted by it not visible anymore.

She advances, slamming my desk with her hand, knocking over the pot of ink I have for writing. I feel anger start to swell in my chest, but quickly push aside. She does this type of stuff a lot, taking in a long breath - I attempt to be patient with her.

I watch the ink quickly rush over like a raging river to my paper I had just written out. It reaches them before I have time to grab a rag to clean it up– absorbing it all.

"Caustia," I warn, my voice stern with annoyance, throwing patience with her out the window. "Leave, now, I will not be discussing this topic with you anymore. My answer has already been decided." Maybe I would have considered changing my answer before she chose to spill ink all over my report, soiling it.

"I have to spend an hour re-writing this down, and the meeting with the other nations is tomorrow evening, so please." I reach towards my quill moving it out of the way so I can clean up the slower stream of ink that is slowly making its way to the edge of my desk, inches from dripping onto the floor.

Due to the war breaking out between two nations, Centra and Saceilia, I have to write which resources need to be spread out where, as it was my nation's job to disperse all the different resources to the rest of the other six nations: Elixar, Seianna, Cian, Saceilia, Edlain, and Centra.

Saceilia is the nation that provides the majority of the food resources. I had divided up what Lura said they had saved from the destruction that Zaid inflicted on the land. Lura had been refusing to lend any resources to Zaid's Nation, even though his Nation faced a high drought and half his crops burned up.

Now, I have to rewrite my other document on the plan I conjured up to counter Zaid's advancements against Sacelia. Thanks a lot, Caustia. Thanks. A. Lot.

"You promised you would let me come with you this time." Caustia's voice spread across the room, her voice taking on a gravelly tone as she practically growled at me.