In Aeternum (Actively Updating and Editing)

III: Duty (10/23)

Another one that's on the short side. I'm still debating if I want to split the chapters up by POV or not, but we'll get there. The song is "Do You Love Me" by Yiruma. He is my favourite contemporary pianist and very talented, I recommend him for study sessions, or just relaxing at home.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First position.

Elysia stood in front of the mirror at the dance studio in town, practicing her technique at the barre. Her long white hair was in a tighter bun than she had worn to school that day, and she could feel it tugging.

As she measured each graceful step to the chosen song, her mind wandered to a time that felt like another life, it had been so long ago. In the mirror, it was like she could see their faces, and hear their voices. His voice. It rang in her ear like a beautiful childhood memory. His silly grin and his stupid hair. She couldn't imagine another person being so silly, so stupid, and yet so perfect.

Second position.

Time had passed since those days, they were no longer children, and they would never be children again. Family, duty, and honour. Those are what were important. Nothing else mattered, neither love nor life.

Fourth position.

She took a deep breath and shook the thoughts away. She needed to focus on her dancing. Focus on her life and her arts. It's what she had done for many centuries, and what she would continue to do.

Fifth position.

Stepping away from the barre, she stood in the middle of the room to practice her basic moves. You always went back to the basics. Didn't Bruce Lee say something like, "I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times?"

The practice was sometimes the only constant thing in her very hectic life. And the Christmas pageant the dance school held every year was the perfect place to show off her many, many years of it.

Plie. Saute. Releve. Plie. Saute. Releve. Plie. Saute. Releve.

Each step brought her deeper into her mind. Each arabesque and pirouette brought her back to that morning in the pumpkin patch all those years ago. Each laugh and each playful tumble. Elated, feeling like she was each leaf that was thrown into the air and slowly descended to the sweet-smelling ground.

They were children then, mere children. And it had never occurred to her as a child that one day of play with her best friend would be their last, and they would never know it.

They were playing in the leaves of her home, the sun setting on them as they did. There had been a party that day, a small one for his birthday, and that night was the Samhain Ball. She had made fun of him for "getting so old", and he made fun right back that she was "still a small child".

Her mother was still alive back then, golden and tiny and beautiful next to the strong, dark frame of her father. She didn't know it then, but her mother would die in the next decade. But even so, her mother was so sick then, Elysia always wondered how she could have missed it. Looking back on the memories now, Elysia could see the sickness and how it drained her mother. She was all but blind to it then.

This Halloween would mark one hundred years to the day since she and Orson had seen each other.

Up until she was one hundred, she never looked older than ten. These were the years she could make mistakes and live as she pleased.

For her kind, it wasn't until the next century or so, the "human years", that they grew into adulthood; Where they were taught the duties of their families and grew into whatever it was they were supposed to be for the rest of their lives. And from every century then on out, they would remain how they looked until the end of their days.

She was steadily approaching her 235th year. His kind aged like hers, but very differently. It was upon the 250th year of a prince of his kind's life, that they would ascend to reign.

And she too would eventually reign in her father's stead.

She was in no rush.

Taking a good long look in the mirror, she placed herself back into the first position. The small round face she once carried had gotten longer and sharper, her nose finally looking like it belonged there. She was tall and curvy though, something her mother was not.

She loved her mother, heavens rest her soul, but she took after her father in this aspect, built very solidly where her mother was frail. Her hair, the silvery blonde-white that it was, was one of the few things she got from her mom, but the eyes? Those were her father's.

From her manicured nails to her pedicured toes, she was every inch the lady that her family expected her to be. But it was only here, in her safe place, where she could truly be herself.

She could dance to whatever she wanted, or she could spend the whole day crying. It didn't matter to her, and it didn't matter to Mr. McCorrigan, the owner of the school. He was no stranger to the duties of the old families.

The song finally finished and she shook away all of the thoughts in her head. It was time to head home and entertain her fathers with dinner and make sure her brother was okay with the change of pace.

Grae was still in his early years and had known nothing but their home in France and the others who took care of him. Being in the United States after having left Europe would be a culture shock to anyone, especially a child.

She unhooked her phone from the speakers and gathered her things to make her way to the showers.

The day had been long, and she had grown weary.