Memories
"Aww, who's a sweet little thing~? Vio~ Papa’s here~"
"Papa will protect us, won't you?"
A man's doting voice and a woman's cheerful laughter echoed in her ears—yet a thick haze obscured their faces from view.
"Forgive me. I swear I'll come back for you."
"It's alright. I'll keep her safe. Just... please be careful."
The man's voice was strained with grief, the woman's laced with quiet worry.
She could feel herself being held tightly, their embrace preventing her from seeing their features.
---
"If your existence were discovered...
… execution would be unavoidable.
You must leave the country at once."
Perspective shifted—now she was peering through a cracked door as her mother spoke to a shadowed figure. The fragmented words belonged to a man, while her mother remained silent.
"Starting today, we'll begin magic lessons! Mama's going to be strict~! Is there anyone going to do their best~?"
“Me~~~~!!!”
A cozy cottage. A pink-blonde woman—her mother, surely—explained the fundamentals of magic. Yet their "lessons" were anything but flashy: hour after hour of meditative drills—circulating mana, refining its flow, sharpening her senses.
"This pendant is from your Papa. Never take it off. I love you, Vio."
"Mama~~~~!! Uwaaaah~!"
Their life had been nomadic, never staying in one place for long—until her mother's skills as an apothecary earned them patronage in a minor viscounty.
But their fragile peace shattered when bandits broke in, slaughtering her mother before her eyes. The girl's heart splintered that day.
---
"A child can't survive alone. Come, you'll live with us now."
The man who grabbed her wrist was a trifecta of repulsive: bald-fat-ugly. Was this "rescue" or abduction?
"You're a commoner, aren't you? Ugh, that necklace is far too bold for the likes of you. Hand it over—it'll look better on me."
"No! I got it from my Mama!"
"Who do you think you're talking to?! Let— go—!"
"Kyah—!"
Thud-thud-thud—CRASH!!!
"Aaaaaahh—! S-Somebody help!!"
"Eros?! What in the—?! … Gods, what happened?!"
"Papa! Sh-She fell down the stairs all by herself!"
"Tch. Useless. I thought we could at least sell her... Hey, Lodus. Dump the brat. No adoption papers were signed—she's just gutter trash. Understand?"
"At once, my lord. I'll dispose of her before dawn."
---
The girl's last thread of sanity had snapped when the noble's daughter ripped away her pendant. But shoving a grieving child down the stairs? Not even checking for a pulse? Classy.
"Ugh, why must I deal with this? If we dump her in our territory, someone might recognize her... Rossar Village it is, then. And lose those shoes—she ought to look like a starved urchin. That ragged sack she carried is perfect. Empty, just like a real beggar's would be. Heh."
THUMP.
Under cover of night, the sneering butler hurled her from the carriage. The way he staged the scene—practiced. This wasn't his first time.
What do you think about this chapter?
