ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

xii.

Eleanor la Rue's favorite color was a deep, forest green, and so it was only fitting that the couch in her living room was, too. Surrounded by sage walls covered by a thin layer of dust, with cobwebs in the corners - Aza always felt as though she were in the middle of the forest at camp when she sat on the couch. Their television was far larger than her mother's, an immersive experience - and yet, The Princess Bride still played. Aza looked beside her, half-expecting to see her father, but he wasn't there. She turned back to the screen; Inigo Montoya approached the six-fingered man. Though he held one hand clutched tightly over his abdomen, blood spilling through his fingers, he stood tall with his rapier in his dominant hand, slowly approaching his opponent, "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Inigo stumbled into the corner of a banquet table, and yet he still deflected the six-fingered man's blows, standing almost immediately, "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Aza's lips twitched, twisting into a small smile; a childish rush of adrenaline rushed through her as the two men traded more blows - Inigo repeated himself louder with each flurry of swords, until he cornered the man against a far wall, slashing both cheeks.

"A rapier would not do that sort of damage," Aza jumped when her father appeared on the couch beside her in a flurry of yellow smoke, the thick sulfurous scent of fear permeating her nose. Inigo stabbed the six-fingered man, and he slowly crumpled to the floor as her father continued, "The best way - the most fun way, to kill with a rapier, is through the eye into the brain cavity. Quick, efficient and unique."

Her father sat at the far end of the couch. His left eye twitched occasionally, and Aza thought his hair looked messier than normal. His red bandana was loosely tied; the urge came over her to retie it for him, but she knew better than to approach her father. So instead, Aza mused, "Long time, no see. Careful - a demigod'll start thinking her father doesn't care about her."

She gave him a dry smile, and her father gave her a wolfish, lazy curve of his lips in return. She swallowed the fact that it looked slightly forced. He cracked each of his finger knuckles individually before rolling out his shoulders, "And a demigod could be right. Or, she could gain some self-awareness and realize that perhaps she is not the most important thing in the universe. The gods have bigger things to deal with Aza, and you should spend less of your time worrying whether or not your daddy loves you and more on the mission ahead of you."

"I see you've only gotten more sentimental," she scoffed, ignoring the slight pang of hurt and quickly masking her features, "Why are you here, then. Going to threaten to crush me like a little bug again? I have missed that."

"Well, I will if you continue to fail me."

"Fail you," Aza laughed before she could stop herself, "Now what have I done wrong? I'm doing nothing but striving to please you - I'm learning my powers, and I -"

"You do not have time to learn, Aza-Everett. Now is the time for action. The blood that flows through your veins aches for battle - it wants to be let free. You are the dam preventing the natural course of water."

"I've got a dam problem," Aza sucked her teeth, silencing under her father's stern glare as he continued, "Your grandfather and uncle are less patient than I am. They believe a newborn babe would be of more use. I'm beginning to agree."

"Now you're being unnecessarily nasty," she gritted her teeth, squaring her shoulders, "You know I've made you proud. Made them proud. Didn't you say it yourself? The others would be nowhere without me. They need me - you need me. I am trying my fucking hardest. Have you ever considered that maybe it's not as easy as you think it is? You send us on these little quests like rats running through a maze, but you put our lives in constant danger. You -"