Thousands of years ago a war broke out on a distant island, splitting its occupants into factions. Alifero, Cornucopia, Querencia and Aranea. The tension between them that has been unyielding for centuries only grows when their precious water starts...
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The was no noise in the dining room save for the occasional clink or scrape of knives and forks on plates. The detailing on the dark green wallpaper seemed to writhe like snakes on the wall between portraits of long-dead members of my family. My stomach is making me feel nauseous, goosebumps wash up and down my skin and I felt my toes curling under my feet and the last thing I want to do is eat. I wanted to disappear to the floor and never come out. I could feel my feathers stiffening with nerves.
Amélie glares at me as though I've just torn open her favourite plush toy. Father's feathers are puffed angrily. The tension is palpable. The portraits glare hot spots onto my brown feathers, I almost check for smoke.
She told him, is all I can think. The little snitch told him everything. There was no other reason why he could possibly be this angry. Amélie doesn't know about me sneaking out, that I am sure of. But she definitely told him about the fight.
I stare at my plate, the contrast of the white china against the dark oak table. Unfinished salmon and vegetables staring back at me. I couldn't take another bite. The room slowly closed in on us, pushing us closer and closer together. There wasn't enough air in here for me. My chest started to constrict with overpowering emotion, crying to be cut free. Everything in my body longed to punch something, to run until my lungs burned, to grab a sword and tear open all the dummies in the training room.
Shakily, I stand up.
"I have finished. May I be excused?" I look to Father and meet his eye feigning oblivion as best I can. He didn't look up from his plate, instead, he cuts himself a bit of salmon, and it disappears between his lips.
"Sit down Aster. We need to have a discussion about your behaviour," Father didn't waste any time. For once he didn't sound distant, it was almost like he was in the room with us instead of floating in his own mind. I sink to my seat slowly and put on my sweetest voice to mask simmering acrimony.
"What do you mean?" My thoughts run rampant. Does he know about the pube? Did we leave papers in the wrong place in his office? Is he going to get rid of Sneeg and Niki? How much does he know about the fight? What did Amélie say?
"Your recklessness is out of control, young lady. I won't tolerate it anymore," Father's voice betrayed no emotion he may have been feeling. His face wore his usual tired expression, only now it was stern as well. He eats some more salmon. My throat scratches as I swallow back the emotions buzzing in my chest like angry bees. Recklessness, he had said it so casually. I want to scream.
