ANTHEA || Hisirdoux Casperan

01 | Nine-Hundred Years

"Hear ye, hear ye!" The town crier calls, unrolling his scroll as he always does every sunday. Some people stop to listen, but most go about their daily lives.

Children giggle and scream as they chase each other through the cobbled streets, ducking and jumping over things that they aren't supposed to. Knights train and spar outside their barracks, practicing for whenever their king may need them, and maids tend to their duties, tending to their lords and ladies and various tasks.

Fluffy white clouds drift lazily across a pale blue sky and trees sway gently in the light breeze. The sun is shining and the birds are singing. It's warm and the air smells sweet. It's a beautiful day— an average day for Camelot.

"Anthea!"

Completely average.

"Anthea, what have I told you about skipping your chores?" An elder maid croons, slapping a damp towel down on the central wooden table of the kitchen. Her milky-white eyes permanently fixed straight ahead of her, at nothing at all.

A girl around the age of seventeen sighs, "But they are so boring!"

"It's called responsibility." The blind woman grunts, "All girls of your status must complete them. So—" She exhales abruptly— "What have I told you about skipping your chores."

Anthea rolls her eyes and blows a strand of her blonde hair from her face, "To not to."

"Right."

"But Aunt Dionys—"

"And why have I told you that?" The older woman cuts her off.

"Because I am always running off and 'frolicking' about?"

"No! Well, yes, actually. But that's not why I've told you to complete them," The woman sighs, face palming in exasperation, "Anthea, while I adore your adventuring spirit, you must learn how to be a good wife for your future husband."

Anthea groans and drops down on one of the wobbly stools placed around the table, "What if I don't want to marry?"

"Well," Dionys huffs, "You'll become an old hag, like me. And unless you're lucky, no one will want to speak to you for fear that you're a witch. Do you really want that?"

"Maybe?" Anthea grumbles with a shrug. She shakes her head and continues, "I just don't want to spend my entire life tied to someone I don't actually love. I want to see the world and learn everything about it! I want to meet new people and explore new places— taste different foods even."

Dionysia smacks the back of the blonde's head with her hand in disapproval, "Anthea, you are a wonderful young woman and if I could see you, I'd probably tell you that you look just like your mother."

Anthea massages the back of her head with a grimace, but manages to smile, "Thanks, Aunt Dionys."

The woman smiles sadly, "You need to at least be engaged before you turn eighteen. Otherwise, you will be stuck living a lonely life. I would know, I was like you once," She traces Anthea's jaw with the back of her hand. Then, she pats the girl's cheek lovingly, "Now, get to work or I'll add more chores to your list for today."

"Yes, ma'am," Anthea whines and picks up the towel the older had tossed down earlier, but remains seated where she's at. She watches the elder woman hobble skillfully away, avoiding both the new sack of barrels and the knocked-over sack of potatoes.

Once her aunt is gone from her sight, Anthea finally stands and begins wiping down the table. It is an easy chore and she'd prefer not to do it all, but now it is helping take all of her frustrations out as she thinks about all the different directions her life could take.