Growing Up Fast (Closed)

[orphans]

Winter had come to Corone the same way it always had. Brisk chilled breezes would blow from the ocean, sending shivers down the mightiest of lumberjacks and sturdy oxen. Eventually, flurries of snow and shorter amounts of daylight would accompany those who walked the streets of cities, towns, or forest paths.

Sei’s Tomb was well guarded from the elements, but occasional whispers of winds would whistle through the halls. To prepare for the change of weather many of Corone’s inhabitants had already changed their wardrobes to heavier and thicker clothing. Blankets were doubled up in many homes and water was always boiled, ready for whenever someone needed to cozy their insides.

During the past six months, Azza had become more and more acclimated to her new home and to the colorful mixture of people inside the cavern. It was fun to see how different people interacted with one another. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately depending on who you asked, Azza was able to learn more about her adoptive parents, Jensen and Stephanie, and of course the noodle incident. On top of that, the very thought of the recent baked potato incident involving her father and William Arcus never failed to make the girl smile when she thought of it. She never did see the fight, but after her return from Underwood, heard it told over and over by many people.

However, as happy as times were, insecurities mounted one after another inside Azza Ambrose. Her father’s duel inside the citadel had resulted in her being kidnapped by Cassandra Remi’s daughter. Used as a source of leverage, she saw her father killed before her and due to what Remi said, blamed herself. It took a deal of time before Jensen and Stephanie were able to convince Azza that it wasn’t her fault and to explain the enchantments of the citadel.

The explanation was enough for the girl to understand why her father was still alive and breathing, but it did little to explain her regenerative abilities. What had started out as small minor scratches and cuts healing more efficiently quickly turned into much more serious problems alleviating themselves.

She still shuddered at the remembrance of exploring one of the many tunnels, despite the warnings from her parents. During her wandering, she slipped and cut open her hand. Yet, by the time she returned, the gash had mended itself and all that was left were bloodstains on her clothing and dried blood on her arm and hands.

There was also the matter of a growing strength, something that the girl went to great pains to hide. Unfortunately, in the morning when Azza’s fine motor control wasn’t very good, she managed to rip the handle off her door when trying to open it. Panicked, she just replaced it and went back to bed. It was found later by her parents who just assumed that it broke.

Her wings too were becoming a nuisance. Clothing she could once wear, now had to be altered slightly so that her wings wouldn’t be irritated by constant rubbing of cloth. Jensen was supportive though, stating that he wanted them as well, even going as far to pester Stephanie if he could get a pair. Azza reasoned that her parents were relaxed about her wings, since Uncle Sei had them as well. Different in size, shape, color, and could even be hidden away, but he had them.

Horns on the other hand, Azza didn’t know how they would react and thankfully, they remained hidden beneath her hair for a long time. Ultimately as each day passed, the horns became a little larger and more visible. So much so that Azza bought a large straw hat to hide them. Of course, this didn’t sit well with Stephanie at the dinner table and indoors… in caves.

Jensen was convinced that it was just a phase that Azza was going through, but after a few days of never ending nagging and prodding from Stephanie, he finally relented to her command on the day that the Midwinter Festival started in Underwood.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen had awoken early in the morning to make sure everything was set up for his chat with Azza. He easily found all the tools he needed, but to make sure everything was properly set up took time. He had Tobias cook the cookies, Kyla go by the milk, and Stephanie still looked to him oddly as she dropped the bag of tiny mints into his hand.

“What exactly are you going to do?” Stephanie asked as she turned to Azza’s door where the child still slept. Jensen merely gave her a sigh and a deep piercing stare. “Fine, immortal, whatever you think to do, just do it. She won’t open up to me as much as she does you.” Stephanie blurted, a bit of hurt in her eyes. Jensen dropped a few mints on the floor, leading towards the cookies and milk. Slowly he made a trail of candy to the girls room, stopping to lift himself up to Stephanie and kissing her on the nose.

“She follows the candy right,” Jensen said excitedly. “Each piece she eats makes her think ‘wow, candy!’ And then-” Jensen slammed his fists together making a clap sound. “Boom, into the trap.”

“Why don’t you just…I dunno, ask her to talk?” Stephanie was exasperated by Jensen’s unusual methods.

“If it were really that easy, darlin‘, would I even have to do this? Let’s not forget who pestered who into doing this!” Stephanie lifted her arms up in defeat, looking to her love with a fond smile. They kissed once more and Jensen returned to baiting the trap. One candy left to go and he heard Azza stirring in her sleep. With a mighty yawn the girl announced she was up and Jensen heard the sound of things shifting in her room.

“Got the cookies!” Tobias said entering their home without asking. Jensen turned to the elf and ran, grabbing the plate, kicking Tobias out the door with his foot, and dropping the goods on the table. “You’re welcome!” Tobias’ muffled voice called from the hallway. Stephanie giggled as she went to get dressed for her mission with Aislinn and Felicity. Something about protection and medical supplies, Jensen didn’t pay much attention because he was staring at Steph’s ass as she changed the night before.

A soft knock came from the front door and Jensen opened it to find Kyla with the milk. He grabbed the milk, grabbed the Mystic by the back of the head and brought her in kissing the top of her forehead and waving goodbye. Kyla giggled as she turned and left.

In just enough time the milk was on the table and Azza stepped out from her room and looked down to see the candy. Slowly she followed the trail with her eyes, knowing full well it was a trap and ignored the mint. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth and Jensen felt ashamed for failing the task of roping in his daughter for the fatherly talk. Just as he was about to get up and pick the candy up he heard a small little roar and Azza pounced a piece of candy and furiously ripped it open before sticking it in her mouth. Then with reckless abandon she laughed like Jensen did, pouncing another candy.

The immortal stifled the laughter at watching his daughter hunt the beastie candy until eventually the child stopped at the table, wrappers in mouth as she looked to her father and smiled. Jensen ran one hand along her hair, knocking the hat off and immediately her smile faded.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Jensen said with such clarity it could only mean the reason for wearing the hat so much. Azza began to fidget with her hands and fingers and the immortal reached over and lifted his daughter up. “Ohh you are getting heavy,” Jensen wheezed to himself as placed the girl on the couch. He leaned over, grabbed two cookies and tossed on to her before taking a bite and relaxing.

Slowly Azza looked up to him, and with a sigh she leaned over to her dad and relaxed on his stomach, reaching for the milk and pouring herself a glass. Jensen ran one hand through her hair and softly stroked it before he felt the intrusions on her head. He softly parted her hair and she cringed in anticipation, waiting for him to call her weird and silly looking and stop loving her immediately.

“That’s all?” Jensen said weakly. Azza looked to him and he smiled brightly for her. “Your worried about the fact you got horns growing in? Wow. Shock. The world ended because you had horns,” He joked. Azza didn’t find it funny however as she looked away. Jensen quickly grabbed his daughter around the shoulders and brought her in for a tight hug as he whispered into her ear.

“You know that your mother and I don’t give two shits about what you look like, right?” Jensen kissed the girl on the head. “All we care about is you, and nothing in the world matters more to us. I’d rather die than see a pretty tear fall on down your face.”

Stephanie, who had been watching from the hallway, stepped forward and sat next to Azza, placing a warming hand upon her shoulder and kissing the girl on the cheek. “That’s right. And besides, you having little horns just means your special,” Jensen gave Stephanie the shut up or die look. Apparently he didn’t want to use that horridly over used Cliché that kids are special. Stephanie regrouped and smiled to Azza again. “Even if you aren’t like us, that doesn’t make us love you any less.”

They both hugged Azza extra tight before letting her go. Jensen stood up and looked at them both and put on a sly grin. “Man, you get wings AND horns. Dude, I’d be so bad ass with horns.” Jensen whined. “I could slam them into Willy’s gut or something…”

“I dunno, I think Azza has the face for horns. You? Not so much.” Azza giggled as Jensen rolled his hand to his hip and pouted. Stephanie stood up and walked towards the door. “I’ll meet you both at the festival in Underwood tonight,” Stephanie kissed Jensen and turned to Azza to make sure the girl was alright. With a motherly smile she waved goodbye.

“Alright kiddo, you don’t need me following you around. While I personally don’t think that hat suits you, you can wear it if you want. But seriously, kiddo, you are too beautiful to hide that face.” Jensen turned to the door and ripped out a small gun from the holster by the door. “I have trianing with Oreo Jones, sweetheart. If you need I’ll be in Ta’gaz’s training dojo. Stay away from Lady Remi and don’t talk to strangers, otherwise make sure you check in with Kyla or Tobias at lunch. And if you don’t” Jensen turned to Azza and pointed the gun at her. “No more sweets.”

Azza nodded furiously and Jensen smiled to his daughter opening his arms wide for a hug. Azza shifted to get off the couch and ran to her father and he picked her up kissing her over and over on the face until he dropped her heading out the door.

“Love ya, kiddo!” Jensen said waving goodbye.

[orphans]

With an affectionate smile and wave, Azza saw her walk off to the end of the hall and then disappear around a corner. By now, the girl knew Sei’s Tomb well enough to wander about on her own and where the various rooms and facilities were. She rolled her thoughts about in her head while popping a piece of the candy into her mouth.

While it was true that her parents loved her no matter what, the girl was still hesitant to show her secret to others. Still, maybe people won’t mind too much. After all, William Arcus was nearly on fire all the time and people didn’t seem to mind. Maybe some did, but then again, no one would really be brave enough to tell the man.

Lifting the straw hat up, she placed it onto her head snugly and made sure her horns were out of sight again. It had become a common and recent sight for the girl to run about with the hat on and no one really questioned it, much. Azza was thankful for the fact that people didn’t pry too much.

Usually, Azza would have went to the wisest person she knew to ask her questions and what she should do. That person used to be solely Mother Holly, but now there were many people. Sei Orlouge was perhaps the most calculated out of all of the people she knew, however, the girl couldn’t help but feel intimidated in his presence.

There was something all too familiar about him, him being both scholar and warrior at the same time. She had often dreamed of such figures in her sleep. Or was it that she remembered such figures? At times, it was all very confusing and it didn’t help that over the six months after her birthday, she had been hearing voices.

The voices came and went and it was usually comforting to hear, encouraging her or giving her useful advice. Other times, another would whisper violent thoughts and fancies, frightening the girl into hiding and solitude. Azza never did give into the demands when they were bad or went against what Mother Holly had taught her.

Today, silence was her company as she thought of what to do with her time. She was going to the Midwinter Festival sometime later in the day and Kyla was most likely the one to bring her when she checked in for lunch. If not, she was old enough to make the trip to Underwood and back by herself. Azza seldom did though since the first time she did, Stephanie nearly had a heart attack.

After finishing her second piece of candy, Azza decided that proper breakfast would be good to have and would also be a good time to ask Sei some questions. Despite her usual timidity towards the man, she knew that he had a good heart and a kind person. In many ways, he reminded her of Mother Holly’s temperament.

The questions that the girl really wanted to know was what she should do about her horns. That was the most immediate and urgent. Besides that, realization that she wasn’t exactly human began to bother the girl recently. If anything, she felt as though a piece of her was missing, and maybe… just maybe, Sei might hold the missing piece of what she was.

[Silence Sei]

The thing about being a single parent with a teenage daughter is that it trained one for an army. The fights, the constantly making meals, the patience and effort it took to finely groom. All of these things could apply to both Anita and the Ixian Knights. Because of this, Sei had become accustomed to waking up early, and making the breakfast for his steadily growing number of troops.

The biscuits were quickly rising in the over, a smell of freshly baked bread wafting throughout the halls. Sei could ears doors opening, feet shuffling, and groans being made from all reaches of the Tomb. They had caught wind of the delicious treats he was making, and now were going about their morning routines before they gathered in the mess halls. Sei only had a few minutes to prepare before the army came and wiped out the supply of breakfast items like a plague of locusts.

"Uncle Sei?" Azza's voice reached the mute's ears among the intricate and various noises that were filling his home, "Do you have a minute?"

Sei turned to the girl, a wide smile creeping across his face. Little Azza was one of the few things that had turned Jensen Ambrose's life around. Thanks to the mute, Jensen was allowed to keep custody of the girl from the orphanage she originally came from. Though she acted a bit young for a thirteen year old, Sei loved her as if she were one of his own. He kneeled down and looked to her with a nod. "What do you need, little Azza?"

The girl looked down a bit, almost ashamed of the question she was going to ask. Sei's eyes widened at this. He had to give this speech when Anita was Azza's age, and it almost killed him to do so. Was he really about to have to give it again, to a child that wasn't his? It did seem like the kind of jerk move Jensen would put Azza up to. Sei sighed and closed his eyes, his smile disappearing.

"It's normal for a young lady to start going through these things, Azza." Azza blinked at the statement, rubbing her hair and looking upwards.

"It is? But some of the girls at the orphanage haven't---"

"And some may not quite yet. Those are called late bloomers. There's no need to feel strange about what you're going through. Every girl goes through this awkward phase, but gets over it very quickly." Sei stood up, his smile returning. He could feel his heart racing. He had chopped the speech down dramatically from the one he had given Anita, but the talk still sent chills up his spine all the same.

"So then my horns are normal?"

"Horns?"

Azza nodded, removing her hat and pointing at the obvious horns upon her head. Sei bit his lower lip while retaining his smile. A snort came from out of the mute's throat, and then an out right silent laugh. "Oh thank the Thaynes, I thought you were talking about----" Sei stopped and stood up properly once more, ruffling the girl's hair. "Never mind. Let me tell you a story about a young man."

"Now this young man was made fun of by his brother's because he was different from them. He was picked on for his abnormality. He struggled with his difference his whole life, but eventually the people accepted him for who he was." Azza stared at Sei starry eyed, as if the telepath had just told an epic story. "Do you know who that child was?"

"Who?"

Sei closed his eyes, the slits in his gray shirt sprouting two large orange and blue butterfly wings. For black dots filled the corner of each wing, and Sei was careful not to let the appendages knock over the biscuits he had already made. Azza gasped in shock as Sei pointed to himself, a smile upon his face. "Me. Now why don't you go get you some breakfast. I hear Kyla's taking you to the festival. She'll want you to be full so you both do go spending any money on insanely expensive festival food." Azza nodded and began to make her way into the mess hall, the first of many.

"Thank the Thaynes I didn't have to tell her about Aunt Flo." Sei sighed with relief.

[orphans]

Azza still kept her hat on her head though. The child had grown accustomed to it and it was fun to wear! Well… maybe not fun, but she liked it because it was hers. On the other hand, she still wanted to hide her abnormalities from prying eyes. Her wings she could do nothing about, but at least her horns could be kept in the dark.

This was not to say that the advice from her Uncle Sei about how she should deal with her horns, wasn’t sound. The young girl could find no real fault with his logic and if anything, was acting illogically herself. That itself had become a recent change. Azza was beginning to question many things with a different outlook. More systematically rather than her usual demeanor of a haphazard “yes” or “no” before running off. Yet, there was always the urge to go against the logic.

Regardless, she only did it occasionally and during those times, the voice that urged violence would be whispering. As the girl thought, she proceeded into the line for breakfast with groggy soldiers. Most had grown accustomed to the sight of the young girl while others simply watched with unease. A child, after all, was a liability within a military.

When it was her turn, Azza chose what she always chose: Oat and barley grain bread, baked fresh by Uncle Sei himself. Normally she would have been able to eat much more, but recently she felt the lack of an appetite. It wasn’t due to sickness nor was she bored of the food, rather she felt hungry less and less. Apple juice on the other hand was always welcome, especially when it was fresh.

Thinking ahead to the rest of the day, Azza recalled that the Midwinter Festival was starting today. It would last for a few days with many games, food, and goods. One would be able to find many wondrous things in Underwood during this time. For Azza however, it would be a time that she could visit her old friends and see Mother Holly, the caretaker of the orphanage, once more.

The young girl partially wondered how Coyo, a childhood friend, was doing. He would be leaving the orphanage after the Midwinter Festival, as that was when he came of age. It would be a hard time for him to leave, but Azza knew deep down that he would be fine. Coyo was a hard worker and his Master at the smithy had expressed interest in taking him under a true apprenticeship.

A large smile parted onto the girl’s lips, seemingly for no reason to the soldiers who sat beside her, as she thought of seeing her friends once more. Winter was when they had the most fun chasing each other in the snow.

The thought made Azza wonder if Kyla would be willing to leave early, before lunch, for the Midwinter Festival. With that in mind, Azza hopped off her chair and brought the tray back to be cleaned later. A few quick brushes to clean herself off and Azza began to wander in search of Big Sister Kyla Orlouge, daughter of Uncle Sei.

[Amber Eyes]

Kyla had spent all day getting ready to take Azza to the Midwinter Festival. This mostly revolved around the pregnant Mystic girl trying on different outfits. What would feel better in the brisk air of Radasanth this time of year? The girl looked through her closet with genuine disinterest, yet still hoping to find something.

Her eyes rested upon a short sleeve shirt with pink and brown horizontal stripes. There was a hood to protect one's face from the chilling winds. Kyla scrunched her face up at the shirt. No matter how many times she tried to throw that single piece of clothing out, Sei would always assume it was an accident and throw it back in her closet. Though her 'father' meant well, sometimes he was a bit overbearing.

She stood there in her purple bra and tight blue jeans, biting her lip as she tried to find something that would hug her form just right. Considering the girl got larger by the week, it was becoming increasingly difficult to find any clothes that were comfortable. Kyla remembered her distress at having to buy a jean size larger than normal due to her increased weight. Pregnancy was so not fair on the mother.

She finally settled on a mesh wool sweater of brown, gray, and black stripes. It was just big enough to slide over her large bump, and after reflecting on herself in the mirror for a few minutes, Kyla nodded in agreement with how good the image looked. She then slid on her pair of blue flip flops and went out the door to find Azza.

Azza, who as it turned out, was standing in front of her door at the very moment Kyla opened it. Looking at the teenage girl brought a smile to Kyla's lips, and both of her hands to her belly. She couldn't wait until she had a little girl or boy that would melt her heart with every action they made. For now, however, she was satisfied just getting that feeling to Azza.

"Ready to go?" Kyla giggled, reaching out and taking Azza's hand. She could sense the anticipation in the younger girl, and figured now would be as good a time as any to go. Azza nodded and returned the giggle, walking down the halls with her nanny for a day. And just like that, clothes did not seem to matter that much anymore.

[orphans]

Azza was more than ready to head to Underwood with Kyla by the time the pregnant woman was ready. The very sight of Kyla made the young girl recall the words of Mother Holly and about where babies came from. Not one to mislead her charges, Holly had been truthful to the point of, “When a man and a woman sleep together in the same bed…”

Either way, what people did together on their own time wasn’t any of her concern. Experience as a flower vendor taught her that it was rude to pry. If anything, people were more willing to share their secrets when one seemed amused or partially interested in what it was. Of course, that was when local gossip could help Azza sell flowers based on their meaning.

Today, she was content to just be able to walk beside a friend to Underwood and the Midwinter Festival. Though, when they had first met, Azza shied away from the Orlouge girls. It had taken Azza a better deal of two months to be comfortable to be around Kyla. Anita on the other hand, Azza still couldn’t quite form an opinion about her.

By force of habit Azza swung her hands while Kyla held them and together, the two chattered about senseless things. What was supposed to be a quick trip to Underwood became an even faster journey. Time always seemed to pass quicker in the company of good people.

At least, that was how Azza perceived it. Whether or not Kyla agreed was a different issue. To the young girl time had always been a frivolous thing, but recently she had begun to feel differently. In the end, she always convinced herself it was because she was growing older.


By the time the pair arrived at the Midwinter Festival, it was early noon with a large crowd moving amid the light, fresh blanket of snow. Various vendors had set up their stalls, selling anything from candy to full course meals. Games, contests, shows and even a small petting zoo were available as well. Their appeal was not only for the younger children, but many couples and even elderly participated in the games.

“Kyla, do you mind if I wander around by myself? There’s a few friend I want to find.”

There was a bit of reluctance in the pregnant woman until she remembered that the girl most likely knew Underwood better than Sei’s Tomb. Even with the new influx of merchants and new visiting faces, the girl would be capable of taking care of herself. “Just don’t get in trouble or I’ll never hear the end of it from your parents!”

With a large grin, the young girl nodded her head vigorously and replied, “I promise!” Not waiting for a reply, Azza took off into the crowd and merged in quickly away from view.

[Inpu]

Call it homesickness, that led me to seek out the only reminder of the desert in this winter-choked wasteland they call Underwood. I shivered violently despite the heavy cloak that I clutched around my frame. Truly, I was not built for this climate.

Call it nostalgia, that found me now in the presence of this snake charmer. I sat, my staff across my lap, in the midst of a modest crowd around a small patch of ground that had been cleared of snow. Others watched in awe as the foreign-garbed man hummed a tune intended to sound mystical. Coiled on the frozen earth was a large rattlesnake, shaking the tail after which it was named, swaying with a lithe grace no human could ever copy.

Call it familiarity, then, that gave me the patience to put up with this charlatan’s incompetence. In truth, the snake was less than happy with its ‘master’ – the quiet rattling of its tail signaled its discontent. I figured the only thing that saved the man was the fact that the reptile took to the weather about as well as I did. But his charade was just close enough to the real thing to remind me of home, and so I viewed it with amusement, a diversion from the chilly weather and chillier strangers around me.

A newcomer jostled me as he sat down close by. “Sorry.” His voice was slurred and unclear, and a quick look in his eyes revealed the reason: he had made friends with an ale barrel somewhere. I resolved to ignore him to the best of my ability, but he would have none of it.

“I’m Wigheim.” He leaned uncomfortably close and offered a grimy hand. Without much enthusiasm I shook it and turned away from him, focusing back on the show.

“Wha’s your name, friend?” He made no effort to keep his voice down.

“Inpu,” I muttered, wishing he’d go away. People were beginning to stare, and the last thing I wanted was unnecessary attention. I groaned and retreated further into my cloak when the snake charmer cast a reproachful glance in our direction.

“Nice to meetcha.”

He thankfully fell silent as the showman continued with his act. He produced a large clay jar from his pile of supplies in one corner of the clearing and, tilting the pot on its side, he began to coax the rattlesnake inside. The critter slithered willingly for the relative warmth of the dark interior, and as soon as it disappeared the crowd around me burst into applause.

I didn’t join them. While he had somehow managed to avoid getting himself killed, I remained unimpressed. I had seen real snake charmers in Kemet. I knew the truth. Unfortunately, the buffoon at my side saw my dissatisfaction.

“You don’t look happy, Inpu!” I ground my teeth in annoyance. The showman gave a bow before quickly gathering his things and making an exit, and the audience began to rub life back into frozen limbs. “If you didn’t like it, why don’t you do better?”

He shoved me into the center of the clearing, and my staff clattered to my feet.

What was this drunken dolt thinking? My better judgment gave way to anger. He had challenged me, had pushed me into the limelight. Okay. I would give him what he wanted.

I shrugged my cloak away from my shoulders, no longer caring about the biting cold. My loose-fitting linen robes were every bit as foreign as those of the actor before me, and some of the departing audience turned back to me, curiosity lighting up their eyes.

I ignored them and focused on the idiot who had shoved me to the center of the unwanted attention. “You want me to do better?” My words carried an implicit threat, to which the drunken man was oblivious; he nodded in mindless anticipation. Slowly, deliberately, I bent and retrieved my staff before pointing it at the man. The length of polished wood began to transform before his eyes.

Scales formed up the length of the staff, forming an intricate pattern of tan and black. One end flexed and moved, wrapping itself twice around my arm. The other end flattened like the head of an oar before shaping into the telltale head of a hooded cobra. When the change completed, red eyes opened to meet those of the now-terrified Wigheim.

The snake reared high over the man’s head, its grip on my arm tight. “A word of advice for you, then.” An evil hiss escaped from between the reptile’s venomous fangs. “Be careful what you wish for.”

The cobra lunged, and several screams escaped from the audience. But when Wigheim finally opened his eyes, all he saw was the length of polished wood.

With a strangled sob, the man bolted, all traces of inebriation forgotten as he dodged rabbitlike through the crowds. In fact, he wasn’t the only one; few remained, and those brave enough to stay glared at me with a mixture of fear and enmity.

I immediately regretted my rash actions. Sighing, I pulled my cloak back over my shoulders and pushed away through the crowd, head down to avoid the hostile stares of those around me. This experiment was over; I would seek a place to be alone.

But more than anything, I just wanted to return to where I belonged. I wanted to return to Kemet.

[orphans]

Azza had been one of the few in the crowd that did not disperse from the giant of a man. Rather than watch the show of the snake charmer, the girl had been much more interested in studying the people around her. Since the man was easily the biggest person around and seemingly the most interesting, Azza had spent the duration of her time staring at him.

She had even been able to eavesdrop his name, Inpu. It was a strange name, but she supposed it might have to do something with being from a different land. Then again, as Azza thought about it, her own name was a bit strange. She even vaguely remembered naming herself at the age of eight.

When the show came to a close, Azza along with everyone else, were about to leave when a sudden commotion caught her attention. Wigheim, the man who had been trying to strike up a conversation with the giant, had shoved Inpu onto the stage. Along with everyone else, Azza watched with a mild interest. The drunk taunted the foreigner to do better than the performer and whether it was due to a sense of pride or anger, Inpu obliged.

At first, Azza couldn’t see what was transpiring until there were suddenly screams from the crowd as many of the people scattered. In their wake, there was nothing but the solitary man and the staff he carried. There had been a moment when the girl thought she had caught a glimpse of a shimmering scale upon the wood, but those thoughts were quickly cast away.

It was painfully obvious that the man was not acclimated to the weather. Despite the cold, the man stood proud against the Corone winter. Regardless, it was what Azza saw in the man’s eyes that reminded her of something. There was something about Inpu’s homesick eyes that Azza instantly related to and the way he carried himself.

Home.

Despite all that she had gained in the recent months, Azza also felt a deep sense of loss. Like Inpu, Azza felt out of place and even though those around her tried to make her feel welcome and comforted, she lacked the secure feeling of a true home. Strangely enough, the young girl felt more at home with the winter chill as a mantle. It was familiar and she liked it.

The growth of her horns had also not been kind to the child. Along with all the strange abilities Azza began to notice, it was the two voices that were most alarming to her. She had thought the migraines to be torture incarnate, but never did she imagine two voices that constantly contested over what she heard.

The first was welcomed into her life. It liked to make small conversation from time to time and was always trying to cheer her up. That was until the second voice appeared. It whispered violence and frightful thoughts to her and although Azza never gave in, she could feel herself slipping sometimes. The first voice would always try to defend the girl, but in the end would always fade away.

That frightened her.

At times, the two voices even sounded similar to the point that it was hard for Azza to differentiate them, but over the last few months, she was able to sort them apart. Even then, it brought her little comfort and more often than not, would worsen her migraines.

Willing those thoughts away, Azza watched the departure of the large man. With him gone, there was little reason for Azza to remain in that particular performance area. There were plenty of things to see and the girl intended to see as much as possible before nightfall.

[The Keeper]

"I say, there's nothing like a pot of tea on a cold afternoon," Regis said, taking a small sip of a cup full of Baron Gray tea, a delicious blend of black tea flavored with bergamot oil. "That touch of lemon really does wonders."

Finishing his drink, he quickly rinsed his tea set, fancy white porcelain patterned with sky-blue flowers and set it out to dry. Throwing on his long black overcoat and a pair of warm gloves, the man made his way out of the library that he both owned and worked at. He shut the door and locked it using the key he inherited and hung up a sign stating he would be back soon.

"Alright then. Off we go." With a nod, the man set off to the center of town. The Winter Festival was in and every day, Regis made sure to make a set of rounds to see if there were any new stalls selling books. After all, he was a librarian, and he absolutely loved books. It was a short walk from where he worked, but the chill of the season nipped at him.

"Goodness, I might have to get myself a hat. Yes, that's not a bad idea at all!" Regis chuckled as he talked to himself. "After all, I'm losing my hair. It only makes sense I replace it with something else!"

Still smiling the librarian arrived at the marketplace and began to meander from place to place, seeing what goods were for sale. There were plenty of distractions and diversions as well as foreign things that, based on what Regis had read, were not as rare as these merchants claimed, which caused him to chuckle again. He noticed one particular stall that had a man selling vials of sand.

'Yes, yes. A very rare and fine grain of sand, bottled from the far off lands of Fallien. That's right. Sand. Rare. From Fallien.' The thought made the old man feel like he was attending a comedy skit.

"Pardon, sir," Regis felt the need to see how much the man was charging, his darker skin a sign of being exposed to sun for a long period of time. "How much for your smallest vial? That one there, with the fine white powder." Regis pointed to the one he mentioned and the man gave the old librarian a vendor's grin.

"tha' one is ..." The vendor paused, concocting some insane price in his head. "Tha' one is fitty gold, si'"

"Ah, yes. Thank you then." Regis smiled and nodded, stepping away from the hustling merchant.

'Good profit. Scoop a vial of the sand beneath your feet and sell it to strangers for insane prices.'

"Actually," Regis stepped back toward the stall, "what's your name, young man?"

"Barren Wuffett"

"Ah, of course. I'll remember the name next time I'm looking for fine quality sand. Cheers." With a wink, Regis stepped away and the vendor smiled back at him.

'As if I'd ever pay fifty gold for a vial of nothing more than his local dirt.'

The librarian continued from stall to stall. Some had games, some had more absurdly overpriced goods, some sold cheap snacks for those who found themselves hungry during their trip. Eventually, Regis stumbled upon a small stall off to the side selling books. It made sense of course. People do not go to festivals to read, they go to have fun. Still, there usually were one or two vendors selling books from far off lands, something much more valuable to Regis than dirt.

"Ah, hello there miss," Regis greeted the lovely young woman behind the stall. She was a bit shorter than Regis, barely over one-sixty centimeters. She had blond hair pulled up into a pony-tail and wore fur to keep warm. "Do you mind if I peruse the selection?" Regis smiled, waiting for a response from the owner of the stall.

She giggled at both the question and the strange accent the man spoke with. She wasn't used to people asking to look at her wares. "Not at all, sir. Please, take all the time you need." She smiled warmly at the librarian.

"Thank you kindly."

He looked down then, adjusting the glasses on his face with his glove and pushing them up. He picked up each book one by one and held it up before his eyes, reading the title, the author, and then turning them over to read the brief synopsis. He then would open the book and quickly read the first chapter of each, assessing the quality of the writer and to get an idea of the story.

After reading a few books, the young lady couldn't contain her amusement. "You really are thorough when shopping, aren't you sir?"

Regis looked up at the young lady from his book and gave her a warm smile. "Of course. After all, I'm a librarian. If there is one thing I pay strict attention to, it's literature. Just as a blacksmith is particular about the metal he uses, or a jeweler of the gemstones he sells, I am particular of the books I present. I find the library is a reflection of the librarian." He smiled again before his gaze fell back to the book he was reading.

'These are mostly fictional stories. I've read most, and of those I haven't, none really stand out. Somewhat disappointing.'

As Regis placed the book down he spotted one he hadn't checked yet. The cover was pure white with a maroon iris looking back at him. It was a strange cover and even stranger since it lacked an author or title. Opening the book and flipping through the pages, he noticed the text seemed quite old and he found himself intrigued by the book.

"Miss, might I inquire how much this lovely text costs?"

The young lady leaned over the stall and looked at the cover to recognize the book. She seemed a bit confused. "Hmm, I don't remember having that one. It must have snuck in when I was packing up my wares. How about fifteen gold?"

Regis smiled back, looking over the top rim of his glasses. "Well, my dear, that does seem fair. Though..." He gave a strange look to the book, turning it over in his hands as if he were inspecting it. "I must say, it is a bit beaten up, don't you agree?" The woman looked over to the book and nodded in agreement.

"I suppose you're right. Odd. Well, how's ten gold then?"

Regis looked back at the young woman, "Ten gold sounds like something I can do. Just a moment." Giving her another smile, he reached down into the deep pockets of his trench coat and pulled out a handful of loose gold coins he generally carried around. As he opened his palm and counted out the coins, the young lady's jaw dropped as she saw the amount of money the librarian had. He noticed it out of the corner of his eye but continued counting, never letting the smile disappear. Counting out twelve coins, he handed them to the young woman. "There we go. Ten for the book, and two for the wonderful service. Cheers." He lifted the book as a gesture to say thank you before turning to walk away.

He barely walked a few steps before noticing a little girl with a cute straw hat covering her long white hair, browsing the wares of a neighboring stall that sold pumpkin flavored candies. Strangely, the little girl looked familiar. Then he noticed her maroon eyes and realized that it must be whom he thought.

"Ah, you must be Azza. Mother Holly has spoken so much about you. She misses you dearly."

The young girl looked up at the old man and smiled, not saying a word. She seemed so happy and carefree. Regis could not help but envy her a bit. After all, he had learned in time that ignorance was a much easier and happier lifestyle than knowledge. It was too late for him, of course.

"I tell you what. Here's ten gold coins," he said, as he pulled out some more change from his pockets. "Buy the children of the orphanage some treats and say hello to Mother Holly for me. I'm sure she'd love to see you again." He smiled at her and patted her gently on the top of the hat. Suddenly, he realized that her eyes matched the iris on the cover of the book he just purchased. He looked to the cover and then up to her, who still stood quietly smiling up at him.

"Actually, if you find yourself in Underwood again sometime, stop by my library. I may have a book that may be of use to you. At the very least, I'm sure we can find something that will be an enjoyable read for you. How's that sound?"

The young girl nodded in understanding while the vendor counted out ten gold worth of pumpkin flavored candies and put them into a paper bag for the young girl.

"Well, off you go then. I have to head back to my library. You have fun then. Enjoy the festival!" He chuckled and gave the young girl another pat on the head, lifting his book up again as a thank you gesture to the vendor who just smiled back at him with a nod. He walked off heading back to the library, knowing nobody would be waiting, but still hoping someone would be there. Suddenly a thought struck him.

"My goodness, I truly hope that was actually her!"

[orphans]

The elderly man had come and gone so quickly that Azza was left with a lingering feeling of surprise. He claimed acquaintance with Mother Holly and through her, he seemed to know Azza. As he disappeared around a corner, she was left standing there with a large brown paper bag filled with the sweet treats. Azza knew better than to take things when offered by a stranger, but he did buy them for her and it wasn’t as if he could have done something malicious to the candy beforehand.

Balancing the bag gingerly with one arm, she picked a slightly squashed piece of candy and popped it into her mouth. After a few moments of chewing the girl smiled to the merchant, who in turn just laughed at her expression. It was as if a whole pumpkin pie had been condensed into the small piece; plenty of spice and sugar.

It only occurred to Azza that the man had never actually told her his name. Only that he worked at the library. The elderly man did strike the girl a bit odd as his accent was funny. Or maybe it was the way he carried himself. Very prim and proper. Actually, it was bit too formal for Azza’s liking. It reminded the girl of something unpleasant, but as to what it was, she didn’t know.

A sudden wind picked up, carrying the scent of the festival’s cooking and the sounds of the crowds. Everything about the Midwinter Festival reminded Azza of something that she couldn’t quite grasp. Yet, at the same time, this was also the first time she felt so. Shifting the weight of the bag quickly, the girl began plodding towards the orphanage to share the treats.

Perhaps she would stay there too until nightfall. Her adoptive parents would most likely look for her there. She hadn’t seen them since the morning, but the girl expected it as such. The festival was a large place and to find them would have been difficult. Crowds have never quite been her thing anyways.

Eventually, Azza followed her known path to the orphanage. It was the same one she walked year after year and even though the occupants of the houses changed, the road stayed the same.

[Fuzzie]

Summer had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and winter had rolled in with harsh cold. Siegfried stood outside his house preparing to train in the fresh snow that was piled half a foot high. Though the festival was still going on, the butcher decided that he would train better with nobody around to distract or interrupt him and had stayed home. It had taken him all morning, with frequent breaks of course, to dig out his practice area. He retrieved his rusted training sword from the shed and waddled in his heavy clothing towards his wooden dummy, tripping only once.

He took his stance, sword in two hands, and prepared to start swinging. From the left, from the right, from the left, from the right; he began his routine. He did wide horizontal swings fifteen times on each side, then took a break and sat on a log he had rolled over. The butcher stood and took stance again. This time he did thirty overhead swings. Tiring again, he sat down on the log. He did four cycles of the different swings, taking routine breaks.

After about an hour of training, he began to try something new. He would take steps and then swing, he decided. He took a few steps back, only to realize that he hadn't cleared enough space to do steps. Deciding to try them anyways, he prepared to strike. Step, step, swing to the left. He was fine. He took a few steps back and tried again. Step, step, swing to the right.

Okay, he thought, I'm doing great.

He decided to do another swing. Step, step -- Siegfried slipped and fell on his face. To his knowledge, nobody saw him, but he was still embarrassed. Flustered, he stood up, returned his sword to the shed, and retired inside for the day.

[orphans]

The unfamiliar sound of metal striking wood caught the girl’s attention on her way to the orphanage. It wasn’t hard to spot the person training with the dummy as he was one of the few that had not attended the festival. Curiosity got the better of the girl as she stayed to watch the man in his intense concentration and efforts.

In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice the small girl, but that might have been due to her blending into the white landscape with her white dress and hair. Eventually, Azza recognized the man as the local town butcher. He had always told strange stories that amused the children about town.

Just as Azza thought about cheering the man on, he slipped and fell face first. The snow would have cushioned the fall and that much was obvious as she watched the man stand up again quickly. On the other hand, the fall seemed to cut deep into his confidence and after he cleaned up, returned into his house.

With the show over, the girl began her walk again and soon found herself standing in front of where she called home for the majority of her life. A small path had been cleared up to the steps and off to the sides were numerous snow angels, snowmen, and small forts made by the children. There was even a larger snow angel, most likely Mother Holly’s.

Another chilled winter wind gusted by and around the girl. Instead of guarding herself from the cold, she clutched onto the paper bag to ensure that it wouldn’t topple from her grasp. In truth, Azza barely noticed the cold and if anything, it was comfortable. It was strangely comfortable and familiar. Even so, Azza entered the warmth of the orphanage and was instantly greeted by a small gathering of the younger children and Mother Holly. To shoo away the small children, Azza offered the entire bag of pumpkin candy as a bribe. There was a disapproving smirk on Holly’s lips but she said nothing. Azza, was after all, growing up fast.

[Revenant]

Full rubric, full commentary requested.

STORY

Continuity (7) – Good use of established history and connections between your character and others. There is some issue in having so many unrelated characters throwing things together but you do a good job of maintaining this.

Setting (7) – Your descriptive language really set the scene, and the near-winter quality of Corone came through well. Use of haggling merchants, smells from the kitchen, and other side notes brought a good sense of life to this thread.

Pacing (4) – Azza does a good job of keeping things moving, but the transition from the first three ‘extras’ in the thread to the people in Underwood didn’t have the same connected feel to them and broke down the flow of the story.

CHARACTER

Dialogue (5) – There was good dialogue in the thread but it was so broken up between the guest characters and Azza that I never felt drawn in to the characters.

Action (4) – Similar to dialogue, there were too many random things going on in this thread to give it a good solid feel. I found myself browsing through parts several times and had to force myself to reread them. Nothing really exciting popped out.

Persona (6) – Completely opposite from the other two Character categories, I did get a really good feel for what each character was thinking and feeling. Everything with the character’s motivations really flowed well and gave me a good sense of who each person was. Delving into the depths of Azza’s frustrations and insecurities was well done.

WRITING STYLE

Technique (6) – I like the style here and the unique effect that you were going for. I found it new and refreshing and overall a pleasant read.

Mechanics (7) – Nothing jumped out as glaringly wrong and I never found myself catching on nitpicking errors.

Clarity (5) – Again, the jump from the characters and interactions in Sei’s Tomb to the Underwood festival had me scratching my head and wondering what exactly had shifted.

WILD CARD

Wild Card (7) – For mention of the twice-baked potato affair and for writing something with an interesting twist. Thanks for the read.

TOTAL: 58

Orphans gets 1174 exp and 325 gp.
Enigmatic Immortal gets 717 exp and 50 gp.
Silence Sei gets 870 exp and 50 gp.
Amber Eyes gets 469 exp and 50 gp.
Inpu gets 160 exp and 50 gp.
The Keeper gets 160 exp and 50 gp.
Fuzzie gets 160 exp and 50 gp.

[Silence Sei]

exp-gp added.