Of Ashes and Wind

Eleventh Summer

A dark blue gaze looked up at the sky above, the child in her eleventh summer could hear the sound of the village children in the distance. Joyful shrieks and the sound of sticks clacking against branches and rocks while they pretended to spar frightful monsters they've heard from the village elders. Last summer, Phoenix Stroud could be seen playing along with the rest of the children. But after an incident the past spring, Phoenix had distanced herself from the rest of the children.

Phoenix's dark tresses were kept at a wispy shoulder length, her mother enjoyed pinning white flowers to her hair and braiding strands together at the side of her face. While running around, Phoenix's hair would stick to the side of her face while a wide smile was plastered on her face. A young boy a year older than Phoenix waved around a wooden sword while he fought off a few other children pretending to be bandits. Tristan's brown eyes gleamed in a dashing manner, Tristan always loved to play the part of hero. Phoenix had always been Tristan's right hand in those adventures.

But that wasn't the case today – it hadn't been the case since the children were together at the river.

Phoenix Stroud was born with an extra appendage that was like her father's. Something Phoenix never thought much about until she carelessly changed from her swimming clothes into her dry clothes.

Word spread like wildfire within the village, Phoenix remembered the way her skin crawled when the adults would look upon her the next few weeks. They would never say it to her face, but Phoenix had great ears.

They called her a freak. A monster according to the more vicious rumors.

A young girl that was born the same year as Phoenix looked out from the field they played in and at the hill which the lone child sat upon. Penelope flashed a sad smile to Phoenix, which prompted the young girl to wave her hand and return a smile of her own. Penelope was one of the last kids to try and stick around Phoenix, until Penelope's parents told her to stay away.

Phoenix sighed and picked up the stick she had found earlier, she took the path back to her home. Absently, she would hit the stick against passing branches - pretending for a moment that she too was a daring knight alongside Tristan while battling their way through demons.

But she gave up the charade after two more limp thrusts of the stick. 

Maybe her father would let her help out with the deer they hunted together earlier that morning. Or she would wander into the study and find another book to read through, her parents had been extra attentive to Phoenix since the incident. Her father, Wren, allowed Phoenix to go on more hunting excursions with him. Her mother, Valyria, had brought home more books from the traders and traveling merchants for Phoenix to pass the time with.

It made the sting of losing her friends more bearable since it meant spending more time with her parents. Phoenix was only glad that her younger brother in his sixth summer wasn't subjected to the same cruelty that she was. The young child had learned to be grateful for small mercies. She took one more look back, her dark blue gaze snapping to a young boy with blue eyes and a shock of honey brown hair, Orion Stroud was too young to understand what was going on with his older sister, instead he ran along happily with the rest of the children while they played their game.

"Nix?" Valyria caught sight of her daughter through the open cottage window emerging from the forest path which led to the main part of the village. Her long honey brown hair was tied into a braid that fell over her shoulder, her blue eyes twinkled into a smile at the sight of her eldest coming through the front door. With a gentle pull, the mother pulled her daughter into a warm embrace, the smell of spice and cinnamon invaded Phoenix's sense while she clutched to the front of Valyria's apron.