𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺

The Promise

It is often joked about.

"Is it an engagement ring?"

"Are you married?"

As interesting as it would be to tell the story of a 17 year old girl being engaged, I only wear a promise ring.

Real silver adorned with silicone and crystal; not as priceless and treasurable as diamond and gold. To me though, it is a gift worth a king's ransom. There are plenty of gifts I have received but none as sentimental as this ring I never forget to wear.

See, far off in the Glacies Realm, my mother and I were on a trip. We were no nobility or royalty compared to our hosts. We were lucky if we even stepped foot onto a new village, so being in one of the richest of The Five Realms, was an experience to remember. Coming from the poor and underprivileged Terra Realm, the scenery of luxury made us think of many subjects we often didn't talk about. Topics that were too difficult to address, somehow became small talk.

I remember how wary my voice sounded when I asked, "Mother, in the future, will you be proud of me if I make enough money to support the both of us?"

She replied with confidence, "Yes."

"But Mother, what if I am not able to support you as well? What if I cannot handle things on my own either?"

She smiled sweetly as she held my hand, our fingers intertwined, and spoke with the most gentle voice, "If you were to fail to accomplish your dreams, then what a failure you'll be." She laughed at me upon seeing my fallen expression. "But you will be my failure. And I will take care of you and love you no matter what. I know that you will try your hardest and it will not be in vain. I will not be a stupid mother and not push you to work. If you fail, then fail. Again and again? That's fine. No matter how many times you fail, I know that you will get up and try again until you succeed. And if you need someone to kick you in the back so that you stand up straight, I'll be there to kick you."

That night I slept with the daughter of the host on the bed next to me. She had mumbled to herself, "Kick you, she will."

The next morning, Mother jumped in excitement as I descended the stairs. "Misha, come."

Groggily, I walked to her as she grabbed my hand and slid the piece of jewelry on my ring finger.

"What is this Mother?" I asked, staring at the piece, thinking it was made of cheap iron.

"A promise." She kissed the top of my hand and smiled, her teeth showing. "As your Mother in this cruel world, I see the mistreatment of children as bright as you, not being able to shine to their utmost potential. It is unfair of me to know you see these poor children and not assure you that you will grow and shine the brightest."

Back then it did not make sense. The same question resonated when I stared at the ring: "Why promise what your job is?"

But as times have hardened, moving realms, our class as peasants becoming lower and lower, I have come close to giving up. Those times, she was always there to kick me back up. Softly, and with love, but most definitely a kick.