Abolisher [Drothiker #2]

40.

The garden was bright.

The golden of sunlight poured in from the sky like warm mist, laminating her skin head to toe. Maybe it was because she was small, she felt as if the sunlight was glittering around her. Mama said children saw sparkles even in dirt—everything was too pure to them.

She scowled. Though she was only six, she didn't feel small. She liked playing with lightning at her fingers when children her age feared from their mejest. She was better at sports than all her friends, though she blamed that on the daily training Mama punished her with.

Though it was wasn't really a punishment, it certainly felt like it.

Flarespirit, you must do this, you mustn't do that, you must—blah blah blah ...

She sighed, straightening the purple frock she was clad in. Her favorite one.

Her father was to come visit today—here, in this garden, as he did every month, not far from the throne her mother sat in, the one deep in the forest where she'd hardly visited. Mama never came to visit Papa with her—she sent her here, trusting Vurian with her safety.

Now Vurian walked with her to the far tree, holding her hand tight, as if she would skitter away if he loosened his grip even slightly.

"Are you excited, kiddo?" her cousin asked.

Her scowl deepened. She absolutely detested being called that. Particularly by him. He was much older than her, taller than her. But Vurian was more a friend to her than a cousin.

He was her best friend. Her favorite person in the world after Brother Adlae.

And her father.

She managed to nod eagerly. "Very."

"Good. Go on, you know he's behind that tree."

Vurian wouldn't follow. He was never allowed to. She nodded and made to take a step but her cousin's grip only stiffened around her hand.

He crouched before her. "You know the rules." He straightened her frock, picked invisible dust off it as he spoke. "Do not go anywhere with him, no matter how much his stories enthrall you. Understand? And if he forces you—"

Her chin lifted. "Papa would never force me."

Vurian smiled knowingly, eyeing the other kids and the parents in the garden, playing by the swings. He flicked her nose. "Just stay by the rules, brat."

She gasped. "Mama said to never use that word."

"And are you going to complain to your Mama?"

She frowned. They shared a pact—never to delate.

His face grew serious. "Stay safe, Flarespirit. You do not want your father to face your mother's wrath, do you?"

She couldn't bear that very thought. Mama was very scary when she was angry—otsatyas knew she never wanted to be the one her mother's anger was directed at, neither did she want her father to be that person. She only nodded at Vurian and made for the broad tree concealed in the shadows.

Her father was perched leaning against it. He was reading a book.

His face lightened up when she stepped around the tree and his eyes landed on her. "Well, if it's not the prettiest girl in town!" He immediately shut the book and opened his arms.

She laughed and slid into his embrace.

She felt him breathing in her scent as she did his. She'd missed him. The days she met her father were her favorite days in the whole year. At home, her mother and Brother Adlae discussed things she didn't quite comprehend yet. Most of the times she felt as if she were an unwanted child—one who was just ... there.

Though she was sure Mama didn't do it on purpose, knew she loved her as much as she did her brother. And she hated feeling like this. She shouldn't feel this. Brother Adlae was important. He had a big purpose to accomplish. He required more attention. She understood.

Papa pressed a peck to her cheek before he pulled back.

She beamed. "Did you bring them?"

Her father smiled widely as he reached into the pocket of his jacket. As he did, she caught the dark markings etched at the back of his neck when his collar withdrew.

Zegruks.

She looked down at her own arms—which bore similar markings ... that was, whenever she shifted. Right now, all she found was unmarked skin.

Papa wasn't aware she could do such a thing—go from Grestel to hemvae and back again—and she'd promised her mother to never tell him.

Her tongue ached to tell him, for she'd never seen those markings on anyone else here.

Well, except Brother Adlae. Her brother's entire right leg was marked.

Papa brought about his hand, filled with chocolates.

She didn't really like chocolates—too sweet for her taste. But these ... whatever faraway land he brought them from ...

They tasted as if sweet floods and bubbles have been poured into her mouth.

They were definitely from Haerven—tasted like it.

Her hands practically lunged to grasp them, and ended up dropping them to the ground, because her hands were too small to envelop them.

He laughed. "I'm starting to think you come to visit me only for these."

She unwrapped one and tossed it into her mouth. "I do," she slurred, the chocolate already melting like lava.

Papa gathered the sweets from the ground for her.

She made a sound of protest, but he was lifting to his feet, smiling. "I'll keep these for you. Let's go play first."

He usually asked her about Mama first—how was she doing, if she seemed burdened by the tribes. He asked her about her past month, about her school. He asked her about Brother Adlae—whom she always lied about. She always told him he was fine because Mama had chastised her so, when her brother was always bursting in flames. Most of the time her mother didn't even know what to do.

But there were no questions today, and she was glad for it. She abhorred lying—to him, all the more.

She crossed her arms and shook her head—managing to quickly swallow the chocolate. "I don't want to play today," she babbled, going to sit beside where he'd been sitting. "I want a story."

"A story?" He raised a brow.

She nodded. "About your land, Papa. How's grandmother?"

He dropped back to his place beside her, picked her up and positioned her on his leg. "Has your mother approved this?"

She considered.

And pinched her leg hard enough for her spot to bruise, to punish herself as she lied to her father again. This time wholly for her own greed.

"Yes."