Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 1 ☀ The Rise of an Empire [AP]

BLOODBOUND - 1

Of ancient lore, Eos was the goddess of early morning, of the dawn; it was this goddess Auda thanked, if only for the comfort she brought him. The tendrils of soft blonde upon her head slipped on down between cold branches and got tangled, but she didn't seem to mind. He could admire her for that. That, and the wetness that made leaves breathe and grass tremble and air smell.

Yes, he appreciated her rather much, even when the sight of her was concealed by chapped lips that said not a word, and wide eyes that spoke expectation. Perym's expected someone to take their places.

No one did.

It was with this realization that the family stepped through early morning, basking in the yellows of the sky as they made their way up the steps, to the bowls, to a hand they did not want to touch, and through a door, where Auda was forced to wave goodbye to his once-a-day friend.

The blinds were slapped shut within this room, calling for artificial light. He disliked it immediately.

For a while, the family spent their time simply finding where it was they wanted to stand, all the while digesting the fact that no one had volunteered, that in One, no one had volunteered. It was an awfully long ten seconds of shell-shock. Auda wasn't quite sure when things like that were supposed to end, but nonetheless, it ended with the first voice, a strong one with not a single waver stuck in the chords.

"I'm going in."

He turned to face his aunt - she had her fists clenched at her sides, elbows stiff where she stood. A strand of ashy hair had come loose of her bun, hanging over her brow. A slight mess. That was typical of Aunt Easton, always taking the brunt of things. She'd fight the family, and on a typical day she'd win, but then he found himself staring at that bulbous lump on her stomach, and knew, almost instantaneously, that she would be shot down.

Already, ma was inching towards her, and pa had gone and swiped his hand through the air, giving a stern, "No. Absolutely not. You're-" He paused, sighed, gestured to her stomach. "You're pregnant, for god's sake! That's one too many than they need. I'm not lettin' no sister of mine go into some damn trap, okay?"

Aunt Easton had already started yapping her disapproval. Auda wrinkled up his nose when he heard the first strings of an argument and, quite calmly, placed himself upon the edge of a polished bench shoved up against one wall. Things were smooth there, and he made it a game to slump down until it was time he straightened himself out again. He didn't find any amusement in it. Just a time passer.

"Well, you've got no chance going in, Jarryd," Easton retorted, "Your leg's just about busted to hell and back. You think you'd make it back if you went in like that?"

Isla approached Auda with soft steps. In her arms was a child all wrapped up in blankets; when he saw the yellow cloth, he stretched out his arms in expectation. She seemed a little hesitant to hand him the infant at first, but ended up sucking the concern off her taut face anyways, placing the child into the crooks of Auda's arms as gently as she could. There was a special sort of satisfaction on his face: a cocked grin, a glistening eye. It was a wonderful thing to see that Isla could get over herself, yes?

He passed her a side eyed glance as she went and sat on the furthest end of the bench. She didn't see him. He sighed.

A new voice joined the fray, one more light and delicate than the roughness of the other two; you could just tell she wasn't bound to them by blood. "Jarryd, Easton. I know y'all don't wanna hear this from me, but I gotta say it: neither of you are good candidates. And now, I'm not suggesting I go in, but we have been training our kids. They're all tough, all strong. Maybe we should ask them what they want?"