Turning and twitching in her sleep, she wrinkles her nose... Memories of her childhood flood back to her in her slumber, invading her thoughts.
She sighs, and draws her bow once more. Concentrating harder than last time, focusing.
“Once more, Bexy. You’re close.” The towering Elezen smiled, straightening her form. “Remember the wind. It carries.” Exhaling, she looses the arrow again. It skims the target, and falls.
“Nephiren, i can’t...” She begins, sighing irritably. Her stomach growls audibly.
“You can. You just have to keep practising.” He turned, peering down with eyes full of concern. “Has she not fed you again, kit...?”
She shakes her head, knowing it useless to lie to the man.
“I see... Follow. I won’t see you on an empty stomach.” The young Miqo’te follows. She had barely seen her twelfth cycle. She was smaller... Thinner than most her age. Though she had none aside her elder sister to compare with. Sitting down with a huff, she looks around, the smell of food captivating her senses.
“Here. Eat, Bexy. I’m a grown man, i can do without.” He smiles warmly at her, as she bows her head in thanks to him before picking up the bread, stopping herself from devouring it within seconds. He sighs at her, brushing his long blonde hair from his face. “I’ll be having words with your mother. Nhe’raphi cannot be allowed to treat her children like this... I would not see it happen to my own...” She looks at him, her eyes wide with worry.
“Please... Do not. Zarya... She... Needs the food more than I. If she wishes to explore, she must do so on a full stomach...” He sighs. Pointless to argue. He would just have take action himself.
The thoughts continue to linger inside her mind. Four cycles pass, and it once again becomes more vivid, quarrelling with her emotions to think of.
She smirks, examining the arrow closer within the target; a large, ripe fruit. “I win, Zarya. Fair’s fair. Hand me the ten Gil, like we agreed” She beams. She always did like to best her sister in what little she could. The clearly older Miqo’te wrinkles her nose, folding her arms in refusal, her neat black hair barely brushing at her shoulders as she turns her head.
“No. Ya cheated. Like usual, ya little rat.” She pouts, frowning down on her younger sibling. A wicked grin besets her lips, and she draws her bow, Bexy’s head still lingering close to the target. She fires.
“Aiiiieee!” Bexy screams, jumping back as the arrow sails by her head and embeds itself in the fruit, narrowly missing her. “What are you trying to do, kill me?!” She shrieks, shocked by Zarya’s actions.
“I wouldn’t have missed were i trying.” She taunts. Her green eyes take a wicked glint, as she moves up to examine her shot. “See...? I got it closer that time. I wi---“
Suddenly, another arrow pierces the fruit, splitting it into pieces, the vivid red juice spattering onto Zarya’s face as it did. They both look up at the archer, stunned.
A handsome Miqo’te male stood before them, much older than both females. His sharp green eyes peered through his wild black hair, and he grins.
“Now that, girls, is how you fire an arrow...” He smirked. The bow which the arrow came from was most... Extravagant. A white, intricate frame with many a decoration. Gold and red adorned it, with an elegant harp atop. Bexy’s mouth was agape in awe, as Zarya cleared her face in disgust.
“That...That’s amazing...” She started, walking closer to the man, in awe at the bow. “I’ve... Seen nothing like it before...”
“And likely... Never will again, luv. One of a kind” He motions to it, lowering it so she can take a better look. “Custom made. A replica of a famous bow from ages past.” Zarya paced over, looking the man in the eyes.
“You... Came back...?” She stuttered, looking sternly. “Wh-Why...?” Much to the confusion of Bexy.
“You... Know him..?” She asked, her violet eyes flickering between Zarya, and the unfamiliar archer. The male glances to Zarya curiously, as she spits words at her sister.
“None of ya business! Get mother. Now!” She hisses. Bexy widens her eyes with shock for but a moment, before complying, running to the small tent her so-called “Family” occupied.
“Mother...?” She asked, shyly, peering inside the tent. “Mother... A... Man is here...” The older miqo’te sighed. Narrowing her eyes, she stares at her youngest daughter.
“Tell me something new. What do you want, child?” She snapped. Recoiling, Bexy continued.
“He’s... Got a bow.. It’s... Really pretty...” Her mother froze. Baring her teeth, she stares furiously.
“What... Did you say...?” She whispers callously.
“It’s white, and shiny... He’s talking to Zar—“ She tried to continue, before her mother stormed away in anger, almost knocking Bexy clean off her feet.
“Wait here. Do not move, do you understand...?”
“Y-yes... Mother...” She nodded. She peered from the tent. No sooner had her mother got there, a heated argument exploded between the three. It seemed to last for hours...
Turning yet again, her grip tightening on her pillow, her eyes welling. But she wouldn’t wake.
She disappeared that night. Zarya. On a routine exploration of Amdapor, she never came back. The words haunted her.
“They never found the body...”
“Poor girl.. Probably nothing left...”
“We heard screams... “
She sighed, looking up to the tent. It had been almost a moon since she had gone. Her mother was heard sobbing outside... Bexy knew she had to finally say something to her. With a look of regret, she pulls herself to her feet, and treads lightly outside.
“M...Mother...?”
No response. Not a word.
“Mother, please... You can’t keep doing this.. She’ll come back. You know it.”
Nhe’raphi turned, to reluctantly gaze at her for a moment, before returning to looking out. She slumped on the side of a table, a bottle of gin lay empty on the side.
“And... I truly thought better of you... Bexy...”
“Wh...What do you mean..? Mother i—“ She started, furring her brow.
“This is.. Your fault...” She spat. “If it weren’t for you... Your father might have still been here...”
“But mother i nev---“ She was interrupted as a hand was braught across her face. They both stared in silence. Bexy’s eyes welled. It hurt. The physical pain was the least of it.
“You... Should have never been..” Her mother glared. “You ruined everything. I could have settled down... I could have been something...” She continued, pacing about the platform as Bexy dropped to her knees. “You weren’t wanted, do you hear me?! Zarya... She was something different! A daughter i could be proud of! But you? You were nothing more than a mistake!” She screamed, enraged. Bexy did naught but stare down. Tears streamed down her face. She said nothing.
“Zarya was born of love, Bexy. She was meant to happen! You are nothing more than a product of a past mistake... A mistake i regret with every inch of my being... For every time i even glance at you.. I am reminded.” She sneered, turning her head away. “Go. Fetch me something to eat. I’m hungry and you may as well prove to be... Not a complete burden...”
Bexy nodded. She never spoke a word. Tears fell, and she heard all she had needed. She momentarily slipped inside the tent, took a hold of her bow, and left the camp. With a single, longing look, she sobbed, breaking into tears as she fell to her knees. She had always felt unloved... But the words proved too much for her. After a short while, she stood, wrinkling her features, and nodding at her home solemnly. She turned and left, with no such intention to return. She would find somewhere. Somewhere she belonged.
She sat up, her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat lacing her skin. Looking about, the features of the room barely stood out against the moonlight. She was no longer in a tent. No longer in Camp Tranquil. She glanced to the bed, and smiled, as her eyes trailed across the form of the handsome Elezen sleeping aside her. No longer alone. She sighed, thanking the Twelve that it had just been a terrible dream. Slipping back into the sheets, she sighed with relief, hoping for a few more hours before she resumed her duties.
