✮ Her head wished she had went on thinking he was an infuriating, overly-confident, horribly handsome asshole, that hated her people and always put himself first. Her heart knew he wasn't any of those things. He was a celestial; a man plucked from t...
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"The past is never where you think you left it."
―Katherine Anne Porter
Oran watched his sister with nothing but admiration in his eyes, wondering how it was possible to love someone so much. He was much older than her—she was born only a few days after his sixth nameday—and he always felt an obligation to make every day of her life one to remember. When their mother didn't allow her a treat before dinner, Oran made sure to sneak her two, and when she was punished for running off to play in the river by herself, he would sneak them out after dark. When her father refused to let her practice with a weapon, he carved her one himself.
"Come on, Toria," he laughed, watching Astoria's little bow fall to her side. She released an over exaggerated huff, and her brother's smile grew bigger. "You can do much better than that."
He had been teaching her to shoot for a little over a week, and she had yet to improve at all. They would escape their village early each morning, and spend hours by the stream shooting and collecting arrows. He had been hunting for years, but it didn't make teaching the child any easier.
"I'll never be good like you," she whined, and Oran sighed. He stood from where he had been sat beneath a tree, a half eaten pear in his hand.
He knelt down to look in her eyes, tears stinging her vision. He wanted to laugh—she was always so dramatic—but instead he gave her a small frown. "Don't be silly, Toria," he leaned forward to wipe under his sister's eyes, trying to stop her from crying more. "One day, you'll be the best archer our village has seen in a hundred years."
She continued to pout, but he knew the words intrigued her. "You think so?" she asked, wanting to hear it again.
"I know so," he smiled, running a hand down one of her braids and grabbing her hand. "But not if you give up so quickly."
Astoria returned the cheeky smile, and she quickly rushed forward to squish her face into her bothers chest. Her little arms barely wrapped around him fully, and he laughed quietly before returning the embrace. Some days he had doubts, but in Astoria's eyes Oran was the best person she had ever known.
"Alright," he pulled away, putting on a mock serious face. Astoria giggled, "One more round, then we go home. We don't want to worry mother."
She nodded her head and ran to collect her arrows from the tree a few yards away. She was barely able to carry them all, though when she turned back to her brother she froze and dropped them to the ground. The smile quickly fell from Oran's face.
"What's this?" Carr questioned. Leaves and dried mud from the storm the night before crunched under his heavy boots, but he didn't sound angry. It only made the children more fearful.
