Hallowed Damnation [#Wattys2016]

15

Zyrin smiled to himself as he finished the conversation with his brother and returned his attention back to Salina. She was staring at him curiously and he realized that she must be waiting for a reply to a question he did not hear.

"I'm sorry. I was talking to someone. What did you say?"

Her confused expression intensified with what he said, but he made no move to explain and just waited for her to repeat the question. She sighed and returned her gaze to a particular portrait. He bridged the small distance and now stood shoulder to shoulder with her. Here he recognized the distinguished man in the portrait that held her attention.

"He is my father, isn't he?" she said in a small voice.

"Yes. How did you guess?"

He saw a small smile play on her lips as she gazed up at the face that fathered her. It seemed almost as though it was filled with a wistful fondness or a hopeful longing.

"I have his eyes; the golden color and the shape are exactly the same as mine. We also have the same facial structure."

"One could say that you're the spitting image," he agreed. He was unsure now how to explain the rest of her history to her. Something inside him made him hesitate as if it wanted to protect her from further hurt. He quickly buried the foreign feeling.

"What's his name?" she asked with that small smile still on her lips.

"Alero Nox Sagittari. He was born of an elemental father and a gifted Sagittari mother," he explained. He saw her nod and continued staring wishfully up at her father. He swallowed the hesitation and decided to tell her the rest now.

"There's something you need to know about your father," he started.

"He's a demon, isn't he?" Salina said while looking at him with a calm and assured look in her eyes.

Zyrin blinked at her in complete shock. It was rare that he found himself speechless, but this was a moment where he was at an utter loss for words. How did she know that her father was a demon? Prior to them taking her, she did not even know of her bloodline.

On the other hand, he was also confused at her reaction now. Just an hour ago she was hysterical when she learned of her house's demise and yet she was curiously calm at the fact that her father was a demon. This woman had no consistent patterns for him to analyze and it was starting to bother him.

"How did you know?" he almost stuttered.

He watched as she gave him a sorrowful smile and turned her back on the portraits. She walked leisurely toward the wall of weapons and stopped in front of the black bladed sword. She reached out for it then halted her hand before turning back to Zyrin.

"The contents of this room are rightfully mine, aren't they?" she asked. She seemed like a child asking permission from him.

"Yes. Everything here is yours."

She visibly lit up and grabbed the sword. She flipped it around on her hand to test the weight and to let herself get accustomed to it. After a few test swings, she began wielding it as if it were an extension of her arm. She held it as if she was born to call it her weapon.

He watched as she continued to slash the air with graceful mastery. Every swing and thrust she did was like a form of performance art in itself. It was all well calculated to be at its most advantageous for her stature and weight. Her body moved to compliment her sword in what looked like a beautiful yet deadly dance. Her way of handling the new weapon made it apparent to him that she was indeed a master of blades.