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[Ashla]

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To Let Go is an Art.


Closed to Flamebird. Takes place in Scara Brae.

[Ashla]

"I have to find him."

She sat on a rocking chair. Her posture was straight, yet carried heavy weight. Her black hair hung over her face. A black, thin button up shirt was accompanied with black leggings, a black denim skirt, and laced gloves. Her body appeared frail at first glance. Her shadow of a frame was just recovering from malnourishment. A month from this day, she took refuge in this house, and now she was ready to jump shift again.

The simple oak walls had several paintings of landscapes and family portraits. An elderly man with glasses and grey hair, a brunette in his thirties, and a dark skinned maiden were posing in a formal position. Since the painting was hung, more members were added to this strange "family." On a brown couch, a flame colored tiger cat napped lazily. Next to the feline, the elder sat. His simple shirt was lightly stained with jelly from the tarts he daintly ate. His brown pants were stained as well, yet with herbs and medicine ingredients as opposed to crumpets. Both individuals sat in the silent parlor with a cup of tea.

The young woman looked down at the victorian white carpet with her mismatched eyes. One was blue, the other dark burgundy. She held the cup; one hand under the dish and the other tightly gripping the handle. She spoke again, her voice soft. Years of agony were spilled through the meager tone of her voice. Bitterness, war, and sorrow were all present.

"I need to end him. Once and for all."

The sixty year old watched her with a calm, yet worried, expression. His eyes were coated in caution and weariness, "Your... Obsession seems to be severely driving you over the edge."

As her skin and bone body yearned for rest, she laid her back against the wooden chair bars. They were rough to deal with, uncomfortable collisions against her spine erupted. Yet, she barely winced. She only bit her lip in discomfort. "He must be stopped."

"Where would you start?" The man took a sip of tea before continuing, "You've literally killed to get closer to your goal. Where would that lead-"

"-You're one to talk." The young woman nipped. Her mismatched eyes narrowed in a warning glare. She was in no mood to be talked out of her goal.

He sighed, setting his tea cup down on his coaster. "I was a foolish boy back when I joined the Fourth Guild. That was ages ago," He looked up to her, returning her icy glare, "This is now."

Before she could respond, footsteps sounded from the hallway. The two looked towards the wooden archway into the hall, seeing the young man walk in. He wore an evening robe and held an evening snack in his hands. He rolled his brown eyes, "Angela might be trying to sleep."

"Angela," the elder quipped, "Might be tending to a fussy child."

"Angela-" They all sharply turned to see the dark skinned woman, holding a sleeping toddler in her hands, "-Is wondering why we're all up so late."

While no windows were added to the parlor, natural daylight could still seep in from the halls. As it was midnight, however, the house was only bathed in dark blue from the outside. Candlelight and a strong fireplace kept the home alit. As the shadows of fire danced around the cozy room, Ashla silently growled.

"Just-," she mumbled, "Just don't be surprised when I leave."

She stood up, the floorboards creaked beneath her. The oak beams moaned as she pulled some hair behind her pointed ears.

The man shook his head, "Not even a thank you for everything-"

Her eyes dilated. She sharply turned, hissing a stern but quiet shut up. The entire family briefly stood in shock before she realized. The half elf moaned, pulling her scrawny hand to her forehead. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"-You're hardly sane." The man leaned against the cushions he rested against. His was steady and sure, "You're pushing yourself past your limitations. That, and you only think about yourself these days."

Her body tensed. Offense boiled in her eyes, "I only what?" She looked away. A smile of disbelief formed as she scoffed, "Do you consider taking down the most prominent assassin selfish? Or does letting him live to destroy more lives count as an act of courage?"

The man shook his head, "It's not a need to protect others guiding you anymore, dear." He crossed his legs, "Your desire to get even has caused you to destroy lives even."

Now, her volume control broke, "What-do you- What does that mean?!"

The blond toddler stirred and moaned. Angela shook her head in disgust, then turned to leave. As she tried to calmy step away, the man spoke. "I only refer to the young girl you took in, trained, then-"

-A knock sounded from across the house. As the child woke up and cried, the man moaned, "At this hour?"