SIL
THE ANGRY POUNDING of the rain followed by a clap of thunder heralded a fierce and raging storm. She shook her head in frustration as she covered her ears to block the cacophonous din created by the furious storm that had erupted out of the blue. Slowly, she dragged her feet down the carpeted stairs with a humongous pile of dirty clothes being balanced poorly by her hands while hating to do all drudgery of the endless chores without Archer. She grumbled slightly in disdain for him being able to wake up in the morning cheerfully while she resembled a ferocious winged boar from Kvetena judging by her wild unkempt hair that shined brightly like in its own mysteriousness of the night.
The pile of clothes tumbled down the stairs, and she almost lost her footing. A shrill cry of her alarm clock made her jump and she made a note to herself- never ever jump on the stairs even if a shrill cry from her annoying alarm clock screams at the wrong time it is suppose to wake you up by mixing up am and pm. It explained why she missed her favorite cartoon. She scowled at the clock, secretly hoping for it to combust in flames or shatter into millions of pieces, but Archer had given it her yesterday. It was a present, and she was already hating it. She slipped on her favorite purple skirt instead of the traditional Aurelian outfit and tumbled down the stairs.
A gasp of shock left her mouth, and she groaned in pain as she landed on her elbow. The pile of dirty laundry didn't provide her much of a cushion but she was glad the floor didn't have hard tiles or otherwise she would have been teleported to the ER. She struggled up to her feet as she heard her mother rushing up to her from the kitchen. She had been humming to a melody of an old folk song of Ignis when Esther had just narrowly missed breaking a bone and having the dread of going... No wait - being dragged to the ER. While the books on the table in the dining hall said otherwise, Esther's passion for helping others in the medical field often times came with the cost of seeing that place more often times than she would have wanted.
Her mother looked at her with concern as she tucked a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear which both of the siblings had inherited, except Archer didn't have a streak of dark coffee brown hair on the right side of his head. His hair turned white when he became mad; fortunately, Esther had only witnessed it only once in her life. It was very rare for some sorcerer to change the color of their hair naturally except for old age.
Her mother looked at her and sighed; her clumsiness was a regular occurrence which required only a short lecture of five point two minutes - yes, she counted in her head - until her mother gave up. She quietly admonished Esther about her clumsiness and went downstairs to the basement. She let out a breath while shaking her head when she had finally completed all her chores. She decided to make herself comfortable on the couch to make up for Archer waking her up to say goodbye. He always did, but today she couldn't sleep after it. Something was unsettling her, almost as if someone was watching her. The doorbell rang and she growled. She really hated being interrupted in her plans for sleeping peacefully.
A rhythmic knock two knocks - one knock - two knocks on the door made her forget all the miserable time she had spent doing the awful chores, and the sleep deprived state. Heavy steps muffled by the soft mustard brown carpet brought a smile to her face. Archer! But her bright smile quickly faltered as she examined his dire condition. His shaggy black hair was sprayed with water which sparkled like diamonds, twigs and leaf debris decorated and were nestled in his hair. Dark circles emphasized his weary azure eyes. There were burns and bruises on his lean arms. Fresh scars which looked like they were scraped by some animal and torn clothes bought a fresh blast of worry and panic to her mother's pale face which was paler than it usually was. She rushed to him as his knees buckled and his legs gave way to the ground underneath him. Esther rushed up to him in panic which was evident across her face as weariness threatened to pull him over.
YOU ARE READING
Ashes of Revival
Fantasy"The war is coming, so is Mordlum. Let's Play... " Six years is enough to change people- their hopes, their dreams, their goals. Time is a privilege most people have yet taken for granted. After having lost his parents, his house and his best frien...
