Journey of the Half-Elf - Book 1

Chapter XXIV - Their First Breakfast Here

Through the warm summer air, a flock of hungry seagulls soared over the Northern Outskirts of Shir Shikrog. The speed that their bellies demanded made them appear as narrow streaks of feathery white against the cloudless blue sky. Beneath the Sun, their fleeting shadows raced across the rank streets and dirt-ridden roofs. Dawn had only broken three hours ago, but the lazy Goblins of this dingy neighbourhood had decided to not wake up.

"Rise and shine, kid." Gastan softly called to Guinevere, sitting on top of the blanket, adjacent to her scarred waist beneath it.

Still lost in her dream for a few more seconds, Guinevere's closed eyes rapidly glanced at her surroundings, her body still and the unburnt sections of her white skin cold to the touch. Flung suddenly from her blissful visions, her father's face was the second one she saw.

"Oh... is it morning already?" She yawned, sweeping back the short red forelocks in her eyes, running her fingers down her frayed braid.

"Yep. Sun's out, the sky's clear, so it's time for you to get up." Gastan yawned back, moving off of the bed and walking over to the chair that her clothes rested on. "Come on, up you get. We got a long day ahead of us. We need to buy a few more things, and find jobs." He continued, taking the tunic and trousers to the foot of her bed. "Clean yourself up and get dressed. I replaced the water in your bowl."

"I see you've worn new trousers. They look good on you." Guinevere smiled, shifting her bare legs to hang over the side of the bed, her feet flat on the stone floor.

"The fuck you on about?" He snorted in laughter at her silly comment, sitting down beside her. "All my pairs are the same colour. You know, you come out with the weirdest shit sometimes, like telling that waitress last night about her eyes. Seriously, I need to teach you how to talk to people. You're gonna need friends in this place, loyal ones."

"I know, Father." She sighed, looking down at her short but untrimmed fingernails. "I do want to make friends. Not a large number of course, but enough. However, being among others carries the risk of being discovered. We only arrived a day ago, and I would not want to do anything that even remotely endangers us."

"I get what you mean, Gwinna." He replied, gently placing his hand over the burnt back of hers. "Look, I think you should make friends, but don't get too friendly with any of 'em. Girls, boys, it don't matter. Keep your bandana on no matter who you're with... speaking of, I said I'd get you a headscarf, didn't I?"

"You did. But it's not essential, Father. I can make do without it."

"I know but... I need to do something nice for you. That book and last night's dinner... you deserved more. You deserve more. So, what colour do you want? Blue? Red? Or do you fancy plain white?"

"Hm..." The young woman began to ponder. "If we can afford it, if you can find it, then... blue. I'd like blue."

"Alright, one blue headscarf comin' up." He said, noticing a strand of her hair stuck to her shiny cheek, tucking it behind her pointed ear. Soon after, his hazel eyes wandered down to the bra-covered symbols on her slimmed back and chest, the ones that mirrored each other perfectly, that resembled strange birds. This was his first time actually seeing them, along with the rest of the scars that Dawn's giant tunic had hidden. Though he gazed into the wings and the beaks and the tails, permitted by his daughter to ponder the nature of the burns, he could not find an answer,

"Do you ever wonder why those two bird symbols look the exact same?" He wanted to know what she thought.

"Sometimes." She faintly smiled. "But more often than not, I try to ignore it, along with the rest of the scars that I can hide with clothes. Seeing any of them, let alone wondering about them... reminds me of that night.
The worst type of painful memories... are the ones that needed to be good." She sniffled. "I suppose, Father... I'm somewhat grateful you weren't there. Your eyes were spared. You weren't forced to watch. But... in the end, pain is all the same. Loss is loss."