Guitar Strings and Flower Petals

Of Falsities and Friends, Part 1

The evening was still. Quiet. Tranquil, almost, in a weird way.

A few hours had passed since the Glandus-Hexside game, and all the adrenaline and stress and anxiety over the match had finally faded from Skara's gut. It was an odd sensation. Those feelings had been ever present over the last few weeks, and had become so ingrained in her, that they had remained with her for days after everything was over. But now that they were gone, Skara found herself both utterly exhausted, and at the same time... Empty? No, restless?

A heavy exhale escaped her.

Restless... Maybe that wasn't the right word to describe it, but despite her considerable, extensive, and poetic vocabulary as a Bard, that was probably the most accurate one that she could think of.

There was nothing that she needed to do, no practice that she had to run to, no messages she urgently needed to respond to, nothing she needed to double, triple, quadruple, quintuple check over, and nothing that she needed to stress over. And yet, she still felt stressed. She still felt as if there was something she had to work on, something she was still training for, even if she wasn't doing any training - Skara felt as if she was forgetting to do something, or had missed something important or, just, something.

Leaning on her bedroom balcony in fuzzy red pajama bottoms and yellow nightshirt, Skara gazed over a regular Saturday evening in Bonesborough to her left, while a gentle, ever-so-very-slightly warm breeze hit her from the right, where the Boiling Sea splashed against the cliffs. She felt the air waving through her untied hair like the sea's waves. It felt relaxing, somehow.

Skara found herself pondering on how the last few weeks had gone, over and over again. The Grudgby practices, the constant training, the arguments with Boscha, and of course, what she had done in the match, in front of everyone from two entire schools.

No matter how many times she went over it though, taking everything into consideration, and imagining what else could have happened, she didn't find herself regretting what she had done.

She could imagine how things would have gone if she had made another choice, and how things would probably be different for her had she made them, and how things would probably be different for her had she made them, sure, but, being honest, all of them felt hollow and just... Not right. Like if she had made any other choice, she wouldn't be able to live with herself. She tried to imagine Boscha's smug face as she stepped over Bria to grab a victor's trophy, the cheers of the crowd at their success, but all she could imagine was Willow being...

No. She couldn't live with herself if she hadn't protected Willow. As far as she was concerned, she had made the right choice.

She remembered Willow's words to her before leaving the two split paths at the game: When you try... you're an easy person to believe in. Skara wasn't entirely sure if she believed that about herself, but hearing Willow say that... It helped cement her belief that helping Willow had been the right choice.

Still, just because she made the right one, it didn't mean that it was going to be consequence free.

Now, she wasn't Boscha's friend anymore. She wasn't going to be on top of Hexside's social hierarchy.

And she was very much aware that because of just how exactly she had dealt with everything, having left the field in the way that she had, costing Hexside the game because of it, and knowing that everyone blamed her for the loss. That environment was perfect for whispers and rumors, each one being wilder than the last, and it wasn't like anyone would ask Skara for her perspective. When the rumor mill started, there wasn't much anyone could do to stop it. And after everything that had happened between them, Skara couldn't see Boscha rushing to clear anything up. Especially not when it would make it look like she was the one who was to blame. Come morning, once she got to Hexside, there was going to be... a lot of angry people to deal with. There were going to be rumors, and there were going to be lies she couldn't do anything about.