Will Of Infinity

Checkbox- Part 1

The tents were set up at the outskirts of the central ground, flags fluttering atop each to signify which group it belonged to. The groundskeepers were going through the audience seats, wiping down wooden seats and sweeping the stone floors one last time. The raised balconies for the nobles and royal families were decorated with flower-lines in every hue that Odho could find. She ducked around the stable of Torni's horses and looked for the fawn coloured flag, eyes catching it three tents down the row.

The guards at the tent didn't pay her attention beyond a courteous nod and let her enter without a word. One of them did eye the state of her dress but she didn't wait to explain as she barged in.

"Did you start yet?" she asked as soon as she entered and the helper looked up from where he was about to arrange the armour on the table. Chatu was long used to her routine and didn't bat an eye as she moved away from the armour, a gentle smile on his face as he greeted her.

"Unfortunately not," the other man in the tent spoke up, tying his vest up as he faced away from them, "We almost got lucky this time, Chatu. Almost."

"I don't know why people think you're funny," she pointed at the armour and waved at Chatu to move, walking over to take his place as she kept talking, "Is it because they have a bad sense of humour or because they're trying to humour you?"

"You're just an hour early this time, an improvement," the scale mail gleamed on the table, details of gold gilded over stronger iron, "Who spared us the other half an hour?"

Chatu looked at her and she nodded, letting him withdraw from the tent to get on with other things he needed to do. She got to checking the armour with sharp eyes and didn't bother looking up when her companion came around to stand in front of her on the other side of the table. Only when she was satisfied with it did she glance up to see her brother raising a brow at her.

"Some days I wonder if you are my younger sister or my sasu ," he commented as he reached out a hand to flatten her the mess of her hair, an exasperated look on his fond face, "Why did you make a bird's nest out of your hair, what's this, hmm?"

Out of the Paher siblings, Mogh was undoubtedly the most handsome with his dimples and thick dark hair. He wasn't much taller than her but his neck was longer, graceful in its curve especially with the elegance he carried with him as he walked. Their aunts commented that she had inherited her father's shoulders and he had inherited his mother's waist, a contrast in energies. They had grown up with those comments, reflecting in everything they did and learnt. When he practiced his tanpura and she kept the rope of her manjira from getting knotted, there were talks of their temperaments. When she hefted her mace onto her shoulder and he picked up his intricately designed spear, there were discussions about their bravery distinctions. There wasn't much they could do without discussions springing up at every turn.

Minar made a face when his fingers caught in a particularly tangled spot and he took his hand away to let her deal with it. She combed her fingers through her hair haphazardly and pulled it together to tie it up in a quick bun.

"One day I'm going to chop it off," she swore as she got back to work, pushing at her brother's shoulder to get him to move.

"You chop it off and Rani-ma will chop you up," he replied as he acquiesced, letting her inspect the swords lined up in wooden stands beside his javelin, "I heard news about a bet."

"For you or me?"

"Both?" Mogh tilted his head vaguely as he held the curved sword she handed him, rotating his wrist as he demonstrated his comfort with it before letting her pick it away from his hand, "Apparently, the prince of Byumir started it and now there's a whole pool."