Death Bird of Ring's second storybook

Rebel Marionette

"No, you're doing it all wrong!" the fencing instructor, David, reprimanded heavily when Marionette's rapier slipped out of her hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm tired," Marionette explained as she choked back tears.

"And who's fault is that?" David said with a cruel edge in his voice.

Marionette said nothing. The tears were begging to be let loose, but she knew that she couldn't let them, not in front of the instructor.

"Why are you tired?" David asked. "Why didn't you go to bed at 7:00 pm like you were supposed to?"

"I did, sir, but—" Marionette started.

"You're lying," David interrupted.

"I'm not, sir," Marionette said, firmness in her voice. "I did go to bed at the proper time, but then I had to get up at ten for a dress fitting. Then I had to get up at five in the morning to feed mother's horses and feed father's chickens and sheep."

"You just can't stop with the excuses," David scoffed. "That's all you ever do when you screw up. Instead of taking responsibility for your actions, you just spit up whatever excuse you have. For a girl of seventeen, you really are quite whiny."

"They're not excuses, they're explanations," Marionette responded, tears leaving her eyes at last.

"You are weak," David said coldly. "You are lucky that your mother was a champion fencer or I wouldn't have been teaching you for this long."

"Well, I'm not her, and I'll never be her, so just shut up!" Marionette yelled as she ran out of the door and through an alleyway. She sat down and cried.

Am I really weak? Marionette wondered. Is he right? Am I just making excuses because I don't like to accept responsibility? What's wrong with me?

"There's nothing wrong with you," a voice said. "It's his fault for not understanding that everyone has a schedule of their own."

Marionette saw a boy about her age, and he had black hair and a fresh cut on his face. The cut looked fairly deep, and it concerned her.

"Are you okay?" Marionette asked.

"Yeah, I've gotten worse, believe me," the boy said. "Oh, I just realized, I haven't even introduced myself. Name's Perseus Gennaos. What's yours?"

"Marionette Skliros," she answered.

"Marionette? You mean after the the wooden puppets that are used for amusement?" Perseus said in awe.

"Well, have you heard your own name?" Marionette retorted. "You were named after the demigod that killed Medusa."

"Know the story, do ya?"

"Yeah, but I don't believe in that kind of stuff. I can know the stories, but it doesn't mean that I have to believe them."

"I suppose that's true."