Shadows Unveiled

SECOND

5 Years after the War

Octavia Sable Wainwright's Point of View

"Via, do you remember what I told you back then?" my mother asked, her hands resting on my shoulders.

I was just five years old at that time, yet my parents had already begun imparting their wisdom to me. Though I couldn't grasp everything, I did my best to understand.

"Yes, Mother! Is it about the training I'll start when I turn five?" I replied with a beaming smile.

I felt an overwhelming sense of joy. For a long time, I had yearned to join my parents in their training sessions. I had been merely an observer, watching them practice diligently before I embarked on my education. It had become a daily routine.

In my studies, my mother took the lead. Until I turned five, they restricted me from doing much else, emphasizing the importance of learning and nurturing my intellect before diving into physical training. My father, on the other hand, had stressed the need for me to acquire knowledge and understand the world before harnessing physical strength.

I seldom saw anyone else like us. It seemed we were unique, living alone in this world.

We resided in a wooden house, a single-story structure with hidden chambers underneath, referred to by my father as "the underground," where valuable equipment was safeguarded. Father forbade me from entering there, and I never questioned it.

"Tomorrow, you'll begin training with your father in the morning. It's essential for you to learn, my dear. Do you understand, Octavia?" my mother said, her voice filled with affection.

I embraced her. "I love you both so much, Mother! You and Father. I'm excited to finally join the training with you!"

"You're quite the little one. I didn't expect you to be so delighted about starting your training. It's the opposite of what I imagined," Mother chuckled as she tied up my hair.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to break the sword so quickly. I didn't know it was fragile. I didn't intend for it to shatter so easily," I said apologetically to my father. I could sense his disappointment.

"It's not something you should take lightly, Via! Don't think I didn't see what you did. I know it was a reckless act," he replied, still incredulous.

"Well, Father, I just wanted to try taking down those wolf-like creatures quickly. I didn't realize how powerful my attempt would be. It wasn't intentional to break the sword," I offered as an excuse to my father. I had broken the very first sword he gave me when I was just six years old. I understood why he was upset.

"Next time, don't repeat it. I've always told you that every tool is essential, and you must treat them with respect. Do you understand, Octavia?" Father kindly advised. The sword I had broken had been the first one he'd given me when I was just six. That's why I knew he was disappointed.

"Yes, Father," I replied.

"All right, let's go home now. Your mother is waiting for us to have lunch," he said.

"Let's go!" I exclaimed, skipping alongside him with a cheerful smile.

It was my mother who always brought smiles to both my father and me. I could feel her love and care every day. They never abandoned me, always guiding me in everything I did.

Every day, we went to the forest for my training with my father. I encountered various creatures and demons, always fighting under his watchful eye.

My father taught me many things. He was my hero, strong and unyielding, yet I saw him tear up as I held my mother.

"Isha! My love!" Father cried out, tears streaming down his face.

I couldn't bear to witness this. The father I admired for his strength and resilience was now crying, and my mother, who provided us with strength and love, lay lifeless on the ground, bathed in her own blood.

I rushed to my mother's side, tears flowing uncontrollably. I held her tightly, feeling her lifeblood seep from her heart.

"Mother! Please don't leave us!" I wailed, trembling with weakness.

"Isha! My love!" Father cried out again as he knelt beside me, cradling my mother's face.

I felt a sudden, intense rush of emotions, an indescribable surge of power welling up within me. I couldn't control my own body. All I wanted was for everyone in front of me to disappear.

"Octavia! Don't!" Father shouted, but I couldn't hear him. It was as if I had become deaf to the world around me. All that came out of my lips that day was one word.

"Die."

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Octavia Sable Wainwright, 12 years old.

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This is purely a work of imagination. I hope you enjoy it! ✨