Demetria Adventurer


Joined: 31 Dec 2007 Posts: 45
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Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 5:50 pm Post subject: Consequences |
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Every time, it seemed, Demetria went to go see if Shalcross could come out, his mother coldly told her things like "Not today," or even worse, "Shalcross is grounded. Go along." The worst was when miss Merri told Demetria that Walter was angry and it was best for her to stay away a while.
The child had many mixed feelings about what had happened that day weeks ago when the accident at the Orc fort happened. Sometimes it felt like a horrible thing and others it seemed as if even though it was an accident it was alright because the man shouldn't have been hunting on Umbran territory. Thus is the mind of a child, even an Umbran child. Children are often good at making things work in their own minds because they lack the mature viewpoint.
But hearing such things from Shal's mom was just awful. It saddened the child, but who could she share her feelings with? Most likely, any grown-up would tell her to stop whining, and the other kids were so much older...and then there was Shalcross. They shared the special bond of archery, but it went much deeper than that.
Archery was an art. It was a passion. It was, simply put, soulful. Only another archer could appreciate that zinging feeling inside when reaching for an arrow, or taking aim at a target. Shal might be young, but those feelings were there. Demetria could see those feelings in him when they practiced together.
This particular afternoon found the girl particularly lonely. Despite, or perhaps even because of, her Umbran family she often felt isolated. She often felt an outcast among people with blood relations. There were days that she felt a dreadful envy of her peers who had parents. These feelings were hard to understand and impossible to express for so many reasons.
Demetria stood on the bridge, dropping one ruby after another into the void. The diversion from her incessant thinking was welcome to her. So when she heard a chilly voice from behind her say "Hello, Deme," she nearly jumped out of her skin, dropped her fistful of gems by accident, and then forced herself to turn around and face Shal's dad.
The two stood on the bridge sharing a most uncomfortable silence. It was impossible to know what Walter was thinking, so terribly neutral was his expression.
Running as fast as she could didn't seem like a good idea, so she stammered, "Uhm. Hi, mister Walter. How's Shal?" Shal's father proceeded to tell Deme that his son was happy to have his bow back, and that his punishment was a direct result of their "little adventure". This horrified Demetria, because she suddenly realized that when miss Merri told her to go away, her friend was in trouble because of her. Instantly, Demetria protested and tried to explain that the whole thing was her fault, and that she hoped she didn't hurt Shalcross when she forcibly shoved him through the moongate to his house.
Walter was kind enough to tell the frightened child that indeed Shal made it home ok that day, without injury to his person. But then he admonished the girl, telling her he did not appreciate his son being exposed to possible murder--no matter how accidental--at his young age. Walter asked the girl if she learned a lesson about looking carefully before drawing fire and she nodded mutely. Demetria was filled with anguish as her face felt hot and her eyes felt prickly with the threat of tears. Just when Demetria thought she'd lose what little calm she had left and start really crying, the man spoke again.
"Be more careful, Demetria. What you two did could have caused more problems than you realized. What if the Sanctan military would have charged into town looking for revenge?"
That was all the girl could take. A horrible hitching sob tore from her throat and she stood there feeling shame and remorse. When the man spoke to her again, his voice sounded softer, less cold somehow.
"Go along, Deme. I'll talk to my wife. You can play with Shalcross again. I think you both learned your lessons." Demetria fled toward town, not once looking back. |
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