Colomba Volante || Yanqing [✓ ]

✧ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

" La tua presenza mi dona pace. "

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╰┈➤My eyes stole constant glances at the front door of the smithy, awaiting anxiously for them to open.

It was around this time, he usually came home.

An occasional crack from the fireplace was the only sound in the otherwise silent room, the air heavy with anticipation.

As the minutes stretched into an eternity, the flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, amplifying the stillness of the room. The rhythmic clinks of the cooling metal in the workshop seemed to echo my restless thoughts.

With every creak of the door, my heart skipped a beat, only to fall into a disappointed rhythm when it was just the wind teasing the entrance.

Finally, the door swung open, and my father stepped inside, his silhouette outlined by the warm light. His worn attire exemplified an exhausted face, but he met me with a tender smile that softened the edges of his tired eyes.

"Papa, where do you go every night?" I asked, reaching my tiny hands out to him.

He crouched down, bringing himself to my eye level. His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, and he sighed, a weight on his shoulders that I couldn't comprehend.

"Just to work, my dove," my father replied with a hint of hesitation.

"But why do you come back hurt?" The concern in my young eyes mirrored the vulnerability in his. Yet the bruises on his face and the cuts on his hands remained.

His gaze softened further, and he embraced me, enveloping me in a protective warmth. "Sometimes, life isn't as kind as we want it to be. But remember, no matter what happens, you must seek peace, not vengeance."

I nodded, trying to nestle in his arms, but suddenly my fathers warmth felt distant. He called my name many times, until I realized it wasn't him.

My consciousness returned abruptly, and the once dimly illuminated room now enveloped in a dark quietness. There were no discernible sounds, except for the small voice of a young man beside me.

"Are you alright?"

I laid my head back down, pulling the blanket back over me, "I'm fine, just a strange dream."

Curiosity laced Yanqing's next words, "A dream?"

A brief pause hung in the air before I spoke, "I dreamt that my father once told me I should always seek peace."

Yanqing fell silent, absorbing the those words. I was starting to fall asleep once more, before I heard the swordsman's blanket rustling as he pulled his mat closer to mine. Once he settled again, he held out a hand for me to take.

I did so, sending him a perplexed look.

He smiled,

"I thought about what you said yesterday. Perhaps I have also found that peace you wish to keep."

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╰┈➤ UNEDITED ✧

Original publication: 12.31.2023