Michrinor: The Fates of The Heirs

Chapter 1 - Shadows of Home

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the rundown trailer park where Ava lived. The rusted metal siding of the trailers reflected a dull orange light, creating an eerie glow that only emphasized the decay of the place. Weeds sprouted up between cracked pavement, and broken-down cars sat like skeletons, their tires long gone, windows shattered. The air was thick with the smell of oil and stale air, a constant reminder of the life Ava felt trapped in.

Ava sat behind an old, rusted barrel in the yard, hugging her knees to her chest. She tried to stay as small and quiet as possible, hoping to avoid the attention of her parents. She had learned to hide when the shouting started, to stay out of sight when the tension in the house reached a breaking point. Today was no different. From her hiding spot, she could see the front door of the trailer slam open, and her mother stumbled out, her hand covering her mouth as if she were trying to hold something in.

Tears glistened on her mother's cheeks, catching the last rays of the sun. Ava's heart tightened as she watched her mother wipe her face hurriedly, trying to compose herself. She could hear her father's voice from inside the trailer, still shouting, still angry. His words were muffled, but the rage was clear. Ava had heard it all before—accusations, blame, the same cycle of anger that had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember.

Ava bit her lip, tasting the familiar metallic tang of blood. She hated seeing her mother like this—so fragile, so broken. But more than that, she hated the way her father's anger filled the air, suffocating any hope of peace. It wasn't always like this, she told herself, but the memory of better days was fading fast, drowned out by the constant shouting and slammed doors.

She wished she could be anywhere but here. School wasn't much better, but at least there she could escape the noise for a few hours. Still, even at school, Ava felt like an outsider. She kept to herself, avoiding making friends because she couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing her life up close. How could she explain the shouting, the tension, the way her family seemed to be falling apart? It was easier to stay quiet, to pretend that she didn't care, even when the other kids whispered behind her back or laughed when she walked by.

The bullies at school were relentless, sensing the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. She would've thought that reaching high-school would've increased the likelihood of empathy and understanding along with maturity, but she was sadly mistaken. They taunted her for the clothes she wore, for the way she kept her head down and avoided eye contact. They didn't know about the nights she spent lying awake, listening to her parents fight, or the mornings when she left the house without breakfast because there wasn't any food left. But they didn't need to know. They could see the signs of someone who didn't belong, and that was enough.

Ava's older brother, Ethan, was the only person she felt any connection to, but even that was strained. Ethan was only a year older, but he seemed so much more distant, as if he had already given up on trying to hold the family together. He spent most of his time out of the house, avoiding the chaos in his own way. When he was home, he was quiet, withdrawn, as if he were saving his energy for something more important than dealing with the mess their parents had created. If he did interact, it seems to start a fight between him and her parents so most times, he simply avoided them.

Ava missed the days when she and Ethan would ride their bikes through the trailer park, pretending they were anywhere but here. Back then, they had shared a bond, a silent understanding that they were in this together. But as the fights grew worse, that bond had frayed. Now, it felt like they were on separate paths, each trying to survive in their own way.

The door to the trailer opened again, and Ava's heart skipped a beat. Ethan stepped out, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jeans. He glanced around, his expression unreadable, before his gaze landed on Ava. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, the distance between them more than just physical.