Crafter

Chapter 1: A Day of Joy and Ruin

"Sasha, get down here quick!" Tess squealed from downstairs.

Bolting from her peaceful slumber Sasha scrambled out of the tangled sheets and rushed downstairs, grabbing her dagger that came alive with crackling flames. Survival instinct taking over as Captain Rose's voice loomed in her head, Preparedness can only sometimes save you.

Taking the narrow stairs two at a time, Sasha checked her corners before advancing to the left. She counted steps, breaths and the space between heartbeats. Her sister had screamed and there was a faint trace of smoke in the air. Breaking into the small kitchen Sasha glanced around the room wildly looking for the cause of her sister's shrieks.

Standing by the sink was her willowy little sister, Tess. The twig had shot up in recent years and was now turning into a beautiful young woman. Her long blonde hair had been done up in twisted bun on the top of her head and the few strands they were falling out caught the light and glowed like spun gold. The grin spread across her face as she stared at her hands. Sasha zoned in on them as well, her mouth dropping wide at the sight.
Small blue flames were dancing and flickering on her sister's fingers.

"It just happened. I heard the whispers. I said the words, and look!" Tess said with delight.
Sasha stared at those delicate fingers. This wasn't crafting, this was weaving. Weavers were different. They didn't craft or imbue objects with unique properties. The Whispering One gave them words that allowed them to weave magic with words. Weavers heard the words and were given immeasurable power over a specific weaver faction like control over the elements, time, peoples minds; and now her sister was one of them. How was this possible? Sasha thought.
Sasha stared at the soot stained cupboards around her sister and wondered if the flames had danced up the walls at her sister's command. A frightening thought to think one so gentle would have the most volatile of weaves. Tess had screamed no doubt thinking she was going to burn the house down.

With a quick sheath of her dagger, she analyzed those flickering flames again. Tess murmured in some strange language as they continued to dance between her fingers, jumping from hand to hand changing colors from vibrant oranges to deep blue. Beautiful, Sasha thought. The amazement however turned to ash in her mouth as a rock of jealousy dropped in her stomach.
Realizing she was standing there mute, she said in a rush, "Tess, I am so happy for you!"

Having been ripped away from her newfound gift Tess quietly ushered a command and her hands extinguished themselves. She turned to her older sister. Her face splitting grin slowly started to fade like a soft sunset. It seemed to finally dawn on her what this moment would mean to her sister.

"Oh Sash, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean -" she spluttered blushing to her roots with shame and forgetfulness.

"Tess, what are you talking about? You are a weaver... this is... this is amazing! Also, the day before the start of the Spring Festival, how lucky! You will get your Presentation in 3 days!" Sasha responded in a rush, focusing on the joy not jealousy she felt.

"Really? You're not mad?" Tess asked, making herself look even younger than seventeen as she nervously tucked the loose strands behind her ears. Sasha looked into those innocent doe eyes and thought back to countless memories of a then chubby cheeked, baby sister gazing up at her.

A particular memory stood out. The day Sasha had left to join the army.

Tess had been fourteen and yet she still clung to a ratty teddy bear, with mismatched button eyes. Her sapphire eyes had begged for a scrap of affection from Sasha. Through sobs Tess had whimpered "Please don't leave me."
Sasha had left without looking back.

Sasha's heart squeezed at the memory as she was lost in Tess's vulnerable stare. Those eyes begging for a kind word, a glint of approval from the big sister she always tried to impress.
With a steadying breath, Sasha gently placed her hands on her sister's slim freckled shoulders. "I am not mad. I am proud. Now you need to run to the forge and tell Dad and Asher. Mom, I think will be at the apothecary until late afternoon, but don't worry I won't spoil the news." She concluded with a genuine wink.