Now Playing Tracks

Family life ~

The day was creeping up along the hillside before it shot its glorious golden rays along the rooftops of the town. Reaching, stretching, to tap along each window and peek through the gaps of curtains and shades. As the song of the day rang high, the town woke, its usual bustle of life stirring quickly. Items were in need to prepare, to bake, to cook, to stir, to sew, to clang upon with hammer and steel, to prepare for another day of hard earned coin. 

Their home was not exempt from this daily ritual, everyone in the house slipped from their beds, heading to the kitchen to fill their stomachs. Everyone, that is except one, Samorn, the sleepy-eyed, “just five more minutes” girl that stayed in bed well over those extra five minutes to an hour..Or so. Her parents would cave to her request of added sleep, father obeying a watchful mother who wanted her baby girl to take as much time as she needed.

A faint smile crossing her lips as she was quick to lull back off into the sweet clouds of dreaming. Ah, how the wind upon her face felt so good and the ocean, it was truly the blue everyone said it would be. Just a reach of her hand and she could - poof! The dream was gone; her eyes were wide open, as well as her mouth as she was yelling from the painful weight that was now lying on top of her. “GET OFF OF ME!!!” she cried as she shuffled underneath her quilts and pillows; feeling quite trapped.

She was only met with wicked laughter, a laugh that only made her flail and kick more. Her brother, Agim. “You know” he said so eloquently in his soft voice, as he easily kept his balance sitting on top of her, “If you keep up long nights in the workshop like you did last night mother and father are sure to find out.” She couldn’t see it but she was sure that his innocent smug smile was plastered across his face. She stopped thrashing, “Do they suspect anything?” she asked with a skip in her heartbeat. “No” he said hopping down, “I went down before they had crawled out of bed to clean up what you had not” he said as he flung open the curtains on the window.

She lay there, still, taking in another moment in time at her brother; while she could. He was quite handsome, skin pale as hers, which offset his dark raven hair. His eyes, a perfect emerald green; unlike her two tone. His movements were like water, flowing yet sound, and his craft that he so easily mastered drove a petty childhood rivalry unlike no other. He was easily well liked, with his charisma anything he wanted was well within his grasp. A ladies man, a well taught gentlemen of fine taste and grace… By the gods how he annoyed her so.. 

Her gaze of wonderment slipped to a grim look of un-amusement as he opened her window to wave at one of those pretty girls that fawned over him. “You know, next time that you sneak down there you could at least make some attempt to clean up after yourself” Agim said as he posed for his onlooker down below. He was pushing his luck with her, she grabbed a pillow; reeling it back high above her head. “Honestly,” he said as he flipped a curl from his face, offering a wider smile to his audience “If you - ” She couldn’t take it much more, his smugness, his taunts to people, -him-, she lobbed a pillow as hard as she could right at his fat head! 

And it whizzed by him as he stepped out of the way, right out the window.

"What?" he asked innocently. Tossing the quilts aside she leapt from her bed, grabbed his wrist; drug his across the room "GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!" she cried. Taking the door in one hand and shoving him out hard with the other "GAH! You are -so- frustrating!" -SLAM! - He could offer no rebuttal, he only smiled and shrugged, his task was completed and so he shuffled off down stairs. “Another successful wake up call, son” laughed his father as he slipped away from Olina’s irritated glare. Agim returned in laugh and nod as he stole a slice of pie off the counter.

"Do you always have to have a do that?" Olina asked as she tried to pull the slice from him as moving well as the rest of the pie out of his reach. Taking a successful large bite he grinned at her, "Why yes mother, yes I do."  "Ugh…" she sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose."Just… Just go help your father in the shop and leave your sister -alone- for a change!” “Very well mother…” he said quite pleased with his two victories, happily munching away at the pie as he turned out of the kitchen.”That boy…. “Olina said softly as she shook her head. 

Well, now she was down another pillow, oh well she would fish for it out of the bushes later. She blinked at the open window and shook her head, “Agim you…” Sighing heavily she made her way across her room, stretching and yawning out what sleep still clung to her. Opening her wardrobe she realized what day it was, “Wait… What time is it?” she said looking back to the window. It was well into the day, and that meant she was -late-. With a ramble of clothes, tossed here and there, a hop, stumble and fall, she pulled on her clothes. To describe her elegance would be to watch a drunken swan trying to take flight.

-SLAM!- 

She burst from her room, bag in one hand and her hat in the other, running down the stairs. “Samorn!” called her mother, placing her hands on her hips as she watched her daughter rush into the kitchen. “What in the -.” “Sorry mother! I can’t talk right now I got to - mfmphm wiff Ekkhmmm fffggh, fiff ish goof um pie!” she said as she shoveled a piece of pie into her mouth. Leaving no room for conversation she snatched up another piece and carried it off out the door; leaving her mother  blinking.

Journal Entry: Broken

I fell while I was out today, broke my arm. It really, really, really hurts, even now after everything is all said and done. I had Eckhard mend it when I finally was able to sneak into his study. I couldn’t be seen bruised, dirty and bloody so I had to use his window. He scolded me rather severely while he healed and doctored all my cuts. 

I just sat there in silence, I refused to answer any of his questions other that I fell and got the way I was by the fall. What good does it do to talk about it? What good does it do to tell him that I couldn’t see my footing and slipped from a ledge? That with all the tumbling and tossing I couldn’t see enough to find a handhold to stop from slamming to the ground below.

And when I cry that I can see even less… I just…

Journal Entry : My Da

Da.

A great man, well to me anyway. He has the biggest heart, more than anyone I have met or seen. With his temperament and kindness he could easily even put Eckhard to shame. Mother has told a few stories of the life he lead before he took up his father’s craft and opened his shop. The stories are hard to really grasp, looking at him with his warm smile plastered across his face and then to listen is..

Mother’s stories have him as a soldier, he was harder then, more stern. That for awhile nothing was of value except the action that fell to the end of his blade. He was another man, she says, such a fierceness that burned in his eyes. Da is not one to really talk about himself, there are parts of him that he has openly admitted that he would rather forget, that he is not proud of. He dropped his military life one night and started anew in his father’s forge. 

If you were to see his pieces you can only guess that he had some connection to them. How they balance, glide as you roll your wrist. With each chunk of metal he takes and crafts them with a deeper passion. He may not be proud of his life before this but something inside of him still holds a passion. The blades balanced, the ring is sweetly pitched as the metal clangs off another. The hilts decorated much like the blade, etched with whimsical to horrific designs. He says each blade whispers out its soul as it is born into this world.

I think he said that to keep Agim away from playing with them. Heh, worked too for several years.

Da can do anything, anything from blade work to the tiniest earrings. I kind of envy him and his precision. He tells me that I will get better with time, somehow I doubt it but..  

There was a huge, HUGE order placed two days ago. A couple of men came into the shop requesting to speak with Da. We get requests from customers all the time of who they want things made from. Even I have a few people who request me, which petrifies me while making me feel amazing at the same time. This time though, this was a bit different. I could tell by the way one of them spoke to my mother, his -tone-. Agim picked it up to and was dismissed by mother to get Da to keep his mouth shut. 

Those men hardly looked about, other than the blades that hung along the wall behind mother. I didn’t care for their mumbled conversations, I didn’t understand a bit of it but mother also shooed me away so I couldn’t hear more; she caught me “listening” when I stopped dusting off the shelves. 

Da came out with his wide smile as usual, his hair falling about his face as he had been stoking the fire and banging out the disaster of heirloom armor that someone had brought in the day before. Their children thought it would be fun to ride it down a few flights of stairs….  Gems lost, the detail folded in… Looking at it made me cringe, it was -that- horrible. Anyway, he came out and then he was not himself, but he hide it so well. 

His posture shifted, he cracked his shoulders, and his tone deepened. No one noticed the switch, if they did no one let on about it. Da knew, I noticed, I heard it, so he called brother and I to keep working on the armor. In the workshop we talked about what that was but he was in the dark as much as I was, later nothing more was given. Nothing more than just soldiers that knew Da from back in the day and wanted to chat up some memories and request work to be done. 

Work was an understatement. Insanity was more like it.

I don’t know the exact order but I know I have made over twenty cloak clasps, each with their own personalized detail in the center. Two gem inlaid dagger hilts and odds and ends of things they wanted gold or silver on, my fingers hurt from holding my tools so long. We all had taken on the workload of it, to finish it when they requested. I think Da agreed to it, not because of the money but because of some other agenda that he’s not willing to share. 

I worry about Da. 

Every night for the past week he has stayed down there in the workshop and every morning mother shuffles him off to bed where he stay but for a few hours. He is so focused on what he is doing he hasn’t noticed me hiding off in the shadows, watching. Da is working so hard, his hands have to be throbbing if not bleeding from the speed he keeps. He is so tired, so worn, but you couldn’t tell that from each piece. 

Journal Entry

It was a beautiful night, the moonlight lit up my room despite the curtains being drawn. It called out “look at me, see me, gaze.” So I slipped on my shoes, coat, and my canvas bag. Who knows how long the moon was going to be as bright as this? Or when it would be again. I couldn’t pass this opportunity up. I took my 3 x 3 canvas Da made me the other day. 

Sneaking out was fairly easy, worth every gold I spent on the rope ladder. I walked about an hour until I found inspiration. It was dark, there were faint animal noises off in the distance. My heart raced with caution, but the air felt so good it calmed me. That was my spot. I flopped down and stared up at the sky.

image

Journal entry: New hobby

(Along the top of the page a few rows of sentences are vaguely scribbled along with splatters of ink in between them)

My fingers hurt from all the pinpricks but here I am writing… and not that well. I was out with Agim in town today, helping with errands for the shop. It was about two hours into the run when I rounded a corner, taking a header onto the ground below. Ugh… I didn’t see a man unload his cart and set one down in my path. Both he and I apologized to one another for the accident, Agim was great at helping to cover for my misgivings… I wish though he wouldn’t sometimes. 

He still babies me, not like mother and da, but in his own way. I guess even -he- can be a good big brother…. At times.. when there isn’t a pretty girl around.. Ugh.

Back on topic! 

When I fell I split a seam on my dress, ripped right up to my knee. So instead of taking the thousand questions from mother I decided to work on fixing the dress myself. It’s not perfect, but I think with the added flare I gave it, it makes the dress look better.

I wonder what else I can do, well, when my fingers stop hurting that is.

A soft knock was all that was heard as the old priest Eckhard read over transcripts, calling out “Enter” as his eyes never left the parchment. Silence. “You -can- come in.” he said a bit louder but there still was no stir at his door. Sighing heavily as he shook his head he stopped his work, slid the chair back from his desk and made fast pace across the room. As he opened the door he said “You know you can come -“, he stopped and blinked as there was not a soul to be seen. He looked about, “Hello?” Still, nothing. Taking a step out into the hallway his foot knocked over a package, sending it to its side. “Hmm? What’s this?” he wondered as he picked it up, carrying back to his desk. 

It was flat and rather long, it was too light-weight to be a book he thought as he began to peel back the plain wrapping paper. As he ripped, color sprang to his attention; making his brow furrow with curiosity. His finger drug along the length of it, tearing through the thin paper. As he neared the bottom a small note fell to the floor. He stopped, only having a corner revealed, picked up the note and read it with a smile as he took note of the handwriting. 

Eckhard, 

I managed to talk my way into a free day away from my family. It was really nice to finally get away without being under their watchful eyes and roam where I like. It was gorgeous out! The sun was so bright! I eventually wandered to the edge of a field. The sky…

For hours I just sat there looking at the sky.

I went back for some paint, I wanted to capture what I was looking out to share it with someone. You see those dots there? Aren’t they pretty? I found out that they were flowers! A field full of them! Oh and they smelled wonderful! Well.. Not so much the white ones as they didn’t give off much of a scent. You should come out here, you can tell me what is out in the distance and to the horizon.

He smiled, setting the note off to the side and taking the painting back up to pull the rest of the wrap off of it. He sat there, taking in her day and how she saw it and laughed. “Yes, those dots are pretty” he said as he propped it up on his desk; staring at it. 

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair, a sadness washing over him. It wasn’t nearly as detailed as one she did the year before. “It’s getting worse…” 

A short glimpse of history past

She was always a bright-eyed little girl from the moment she was born, taking in the entire world that there was to see. Everything a new wonder, bringing a gum- lined smile to her round little face.  She was their second child with decades between the siblings. That only meant that the oldest would in turn spoil the new baby of the house. Spoil her that they did, they filled her room with the shiniest of baubles, toys to make her laugh, and music boxes to lull her to sleep. As standing they were rather well off as they fashioned themselves crafters and jewelry makers. Lockets, earrings, gems of various sizes and colors; name a pretty object and you may have found it in their shop.

They were vast in their craft as they were taught each generation on the process of tuning the metals just right to get a gleam that would last a lifetime. To be able to imbue the tiniest of earring so even the poorly taught enchanter could place their spell easily. To bend the metals just so there would be no need for another layer so there would be no seam line. They applied trade secret powders and chemicals on their more elaborate pieces like the added touches to weaponry and armor (Hilts, crests, gemmed design and the like).

Soon enough their little girl would be shown how to create what they did, to be able to captivate others with glorious pieces of work by her own hand. Each was guilty as they each sneaked her into the workshop to see what the grownups were up to. She would sit there and stare with wide eyes of wonderment followed by high squealing of joy. Eventually they caved and let her stay corralled off to the side. As time seemed to fly by she grew into the typical toddler asking questions whenever she came across something new. She had large jade eyes that always begged the question, “Why?” and “Watts ‘at?” (What’s that?) Her long bright red hair thick as ever, always falling onto her face where she would messily wipe it away. Her little body trying to heft tools to her mother and father, trying her best to help them even if that meant she was in the way.

It was there in the midst of them one day at the workshop where tragedy struck. Her father focused on the metals he smelted, wiping away sweat that pooled at his brow from the heat. Her mother wrapped up with piecing together a decorative jewelry box for a customer. Her brother leaving earlier that day to pick up more supplies for the large order they had received. So this meant that his seat was open and she was going to be able to help work.

She had been in the middle playing with a doll she received as a gift from her aunt when she noticed the empty chair. She looked about for her brother but she did not see him, so she got up, walked over, and climbed into his seat. She had sat here once before when he held her in his lap showing her what all he did. It didn’t look so hard and she was a big girl now so her mommy and daddy told her so. She picked up a bottle that had some powder of sorts and poured it onto the ….What was it? It was a circle pretty thing she determined and poured the whole bottle on top of it. There, now it needed something else but she wasn’t sure what. She looked around on the table and saw a vial of pretty blue liquid. She reached for it as it was indeed a pretty blue and would make the circle thing even prettier. She pulled on the cork, with a loud *pop* she let out a giggle which caught the attention of her mother.

“SAMORN!” Her mother yelled standing up from her work with a look of panic on her face. Which made her father look up suddenly only to drop the tool in his hand, running over to the girl. For right before her mother called her name she had moved from sitting to standing in the chair with opened the bottle in hand. Her white and pink dress covered with the powder and everything else that was on that table. Her mother’s yell startled her, which made her fall from the chair, hitting the ground flat on her back. The vial’s liquid splashed across her face and dress getting into her eyes and mouth. As she hit the ground pain and freight filled her letting out a loud cry-scream.

Her parents scooped her up and carried her into the house to inspect her over both trying to comfort and clean her up though it was in vain. The mixture of power and chemical had entered her system which sent her little body into shock. Frantically the father left his bewildered wife to find a priest hopefully in time to save his daughter. When the priest ran through the door her mother was rocking her crying not being able to do much more than that. Her little eyes were now swollen shut as to most of her face red, puffed up, and irritated from the vial’s contents. The child gasped for breath as her throat was swelling shut from ingesting it. The priest pulled the child from her taking her to a nearby bedroom to lay her flat and with hope and luck be able to save her.

Many hours passed by….

Her father paced up and down the hallway as her brother consoled his mother in another room. He stopped every now and then to look inside waiting for the priest to give him new demands of water, linen, or medicine. Until finally the priest walked out the door, “The child will live.” He said with a saddened look upon his face. “She will be in pain, which there is medicine to help that for now. Her throat and stomach suffered many burns will have some scarring, though she will be able to manage with that easily enough.” With that news the family sighed with relief, wiping away tears of sadness replacing them with joy as their child was going to live. The priest pulled her father off to the side, “I would recommend telling this to your wife later after the child has had some rest. She doesn’t need her mother crying over her right now.” He said nothing only looking at him with fear in his eyes at what could be said next. “Everything I said is true, she will make a full recovery and live I suspect for years to come, though I am said to say she will do it without her sight.” He sighed heavily, “The compounds of what was in that vial are hazardous to anyone, even more so a child. When it filled her eyes its poison was taking effect, I’m sorry, I did everything I could…”

Years after that tragic night her mother and father rarely let her into the workshop in fear it may well claim her life next time. The priest had done all that he could but her eyesight was never the same, nor was the coloring of her eyes. Her left eye just a shade lighter than her right and with that shade lighter she was a bit blinder too. Each year was packed with new challenges to face more so when you have a child with a disability. Despite their will to forever baby her, and injury proof their house which meant no more visits to the workshop, she was still the wide-eyed curious little girl. Late at night when her parents would go to bed she would sneak out to that very workshop and teach herself how to craft like them. She wasn’t very good at it at first as she would wake up the same priest each following morning to heal her cuts and burns from the smelter.

After months of late night to early visits the priest had had his fill of it and decided to talk to her parents about her being a student. He convinced them that if he taught her how to heal herself if… -IF- the need arose that she would be able to until a suitable priest could do the rest.  With a bit of persistence he managed to sway them to his favor where then he taught her how to heal and helped her go about in her daily routine without being obvious she was hindered. That was to the displeasure of her parents but was praised by Samorn as she didn’t want to be doted on anymore. 

Years passed by and she grew into a fine young woman, still as sweet and wide-eyed as the day she was born. Her hair long, once messy and unkempt to neatly brushed and braided. Matching pieces of jewelry placed about her being that she proudly wore having made them herself. She was though a bit clumsy as one could tell by the burns covering her fingers, hands, and forearms. They never bothered her though as they were life’s lessons she needed to learn to move forward with her family’s craft in tow.  Everything made up who she was and instead of her downfalls bringing her to despair she stayed positive, determined, caring and friendly to all she came across.  

We make Tumblr themes