Khun children must possess a number of skills. The wives of Eduan are lacking—not beauty, not grace, not brains and certainly not power—and the children must overcompensate. The jewels of Khun Eduan’s crown are simply that; accessories that can never measure up to the real thing and so the children must rise above and atone for their mothers’ sinful existences. Kiseia was an even more special case, meant to carry the weight of her mother’s life, the name of the Agnis lineage and a shameful death.
What other choice there was but greatness? What other path could she dare to follow? And so, without doubt, nor hesitation, she followed the never-ending circle. She trained and fought, she bled herself dry before anyone else could, sharpened her mind and sharpened her tongue so she would never find herself defenceless. Her mother, rest her soul, had once compared them to vases; beautiful and fragile, meant to shelter something even more precious. Break the vase, Kiseia had told herself years later yet the voice resembled more Agnis than her, break the vase so it’ll cut anyone near it, let the shards protect what’s precious.
Flowers were never truly happy inside their glass prison, let alone among ruins. Nevertheless, she had claimed to be content. Nevertheless, Kiseia, always the fool, had believed her. And now, to make her suffering and trials more meaningless than before, Khun Maria had been murdered. Neither carnations nor daffodils could bloom in a place like the Tower and nothing Kiseia, or her precious brother, could have done would have been of any use.
(And what can a broken shard do? Nothing but continue cutting everything but itself. Nothing but protect an emptiness.)
Arguably, this was what had led her to where she was now. A simple game of luck, nothing related to her skills but rather a chance meeting. A meeting that had given her the chance to try and rise above, and become part of something bigger for her own benefit and not to please the Family. A meeting that was responsible for her current predicament.
“Covered in pieces of paper,” she mumbled to herself as she removed another piece from her hair. She briefly wondered how it was possible for the paper to end up there. Of course, one wouldn’t be as surprised if only they looked around. Rak and Shibisu were doing their own part of this little ‘five minutes craft’ charade by messily cutting a bunch of pages while Hwaryun was glueing the words they’d cut together. “I’m sure Father would strike me down if he saw me.”
“There is no evidence that the Head of the Khuns dislikes paper art.” Hwaryun cut in, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Maybe this is a chance to bond with him!”
Kiseia scoffed and threw a piece of paper at her. Hwaryun dodged, letting the crumbled piece land on Rak’s snout. “You dare attack the great le—” he stopped and glanced around “Black Turtle?”
The sound of papers shifting moved everyone’s attention to a pile in the corner. A hand, presumably Bam’s, emerged giving Rak a thumbs up. Eventually, he freed all of his upper body. “This is hopeless.”
“Sorry my love, but I don’t think we’ll find any hidden message in these.”—Kiseia faked a gasp—“It’s just gardening tips.”
Bam sighed. “Guess I should fix them and drop them at Sweet and Sour.” He winced as he looked at the damage done to the books. “Maybe I should replace them.”
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Elysian Fields | Khunbam
Fanfiction"Hate me?" "Well yes," Maria says and leans back against a tree "Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair-" Aguero slaps her arm. Sometimes it's easy to forget she's older than him when she acts like that. "Don't feel bad, we've already establ...
