Delphia, Chapter 1: The Stranger
"Hey!” A man yelled at a man dressed in furs with a large, bulky, muscular build; who had just shoved past him. The man dressed in furs didn’t bother to look back, he didn’t even notice he had pushed someone, and even if he knew he had, he wouldn’t give it a second thought. His mind was busy with other things. Other things such as finding out where these Askra trees are. Whispers went around like a ripple as people caught sight of the newcomer.
“No. He looks nothing like the people from the North! I think he might be looking for a better life. It’s what most people come to Aria for. He seems like he wants a hug. I think he might need one too, but a bath would be better! Look at all those bugs on those furs!” The little girl hugged her knees.
“Delphia?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you always say something so innocent and then go and ruin it by saying something not so nice?” The little boy questioned the little girl hugging her little knees.
“Why, you ask? What a funny question! I do it for the fun of it, of course! I love the look adults give me when I do it. First they’re like ‘Oh! This little girl is so nice, she’ll make a kind and submissive lady someday.’ All chummy like that, and then I will crush they’re dreams of me being kind and submissive. I will rule the world!!! Then cue evil cackling and laughter. Ain’t I just the most hilarious person around, Caleb?”
“I guess.” Caleb was quite confused about his friend, he was always confused around Delphia.
“I guess?” Delphia quoted, incredulous.
“Yeah. I’m confused, Delphia. You know, you’re a confusing person.” Caleb stated.
“It’s part of my charm.” Delphia looked to the sky dramatically, flicking her night black hair into the day blue sky.
“Delphia! Delphia!” A woman called from a house across the street, out the window.
“Coming Mama!” Delphia responded.
“Good bye Caleb. Supper is ready! It’s pie today! I can’t miss it.” With that Delphia, the little girl who used to be hugging her knees waved goodbye and was gone. Gone across the street to what she called home.
“Hello, Mama.” Delphia waved at her mother.
“Hello, Delphia. Did you and Caleb happen to see a man with furs going down the street?”
“Of course! It was quite a sight to behold.”
“Mmm. What direction did he go?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Well, I’m a defender. You know that. I have to keep watch. Protect the town.”
“So that means you think he's a threat?”
“Yes, dear.”
“He went that way.” She pointed east, down the street leading to the marketplace.
“Thank you. Well first I have to get ready, then I’ll be off. Pie’s on the table. I’ll be back.” With that Delphia’s mother left.
Delphia’s mother dressed in her glistening dark purple armour, the colour of plums. She strapped her sword to her waist. She was ready. Ready for battle.
“Goodbye, Delphia. I love you.” Delphia’s mother bent down to her daughter’s eye level and kissed her goodbye.
“Bye, Mama.” Delphia then hugged her mom. Delphia’s mother patted her head gently.
“Eat the soup while it’s warm.” With that she left.
Delphia’s mother was halfway down the street when she was joined by another defender, dressed in the same armour she was in, only difference was that the new defender had throwing knives strapped to their thigh, a bow in their hand, and a quiver full of arrows.
“Hey Enak!” Delphia’s mother waved.
“Hello Cassandra. So, what threat are we facing now?” Enak asked.
“A large man dressed in furs who needs a bath, according to my daughter. Threat level? I have no idea.” Enak nodded his head like this was what he expected to hear.
They walked on in silence as other defenders joined them, whilst walking to the marketplace. The marketplace came into view a few minutes later. A colourful sprawl of carts and set ups and vendors appeared before them. All the defenders' eyes searched for one thing. They didn’t find that one thing.
“Where is that bastard! I’m dying in this armour because of the heat!” A defender complained.
“Quit complaining, Dlareg!” Someone else responded. With that, Dlareg promptly shut up.
“Excuse me, did you see a large man in furs pass-” Enak started.
“Yes! Yes I did! He went that way! Towards the Askra trees! He asked me where they were! He went that way! Oh I was so scared of him!” A vendor exclaimed.
“Thank you.” With that, all the defenders went through the marketplace, this time faster than before, towards the Askra trees.
Soon enough, they’d made it to the grove of Askra trees. They hung low to the ground, pale, creamy bark, thin trunk, and even thinner branches full of leaves. Some trees had one singular flower growing, while some had one singular fruit, ripe. Bright red. The colour of blood.
Amongst that grove was one very large man, decked in furs, holding open a sack, ripping fruits left and right off the delicate trees, so much so that the trunks bent and sometimes along with the fruit came a branch or two.
“Halt! In the name of the Defenders, we ask you to stop! These are sacred trees, made by the Flow.” A defender commanded. Every defender was waiting for what he would say next. He didn’t say anything.
He dropped the sack on the ground and the moment the fabric left his grip he pulled his enormous sword from his belt and swung. It struck. On flesh. On Armour. Making blood spew and sparks fly and a horrendous ear sickening sound emanate off the armour. He was deft, trained in this art of ruthless battle.
After the first strike, he did not stop. He swung and swung. Slashed and slashed. Defenders were falling, dying, bleeding; Fighting. Defenders able to pounce back after his first attack had their weapons out, arcing and arching through the sky, towards the target. The target was fast though, parrying their attacks. More defenders fell. Enak was a little ways off, throwing they’re knives at the fruit collector. Some missed by inches, others bounced off the thick hides piled up on his body, while one hit the target. In the shoulder; though not in his sword arm and not very deep, in a moment it fell out of his shoulder, clinking to the ground. And only a grunt escaped the intruder.
Soon the intruder’s work began to become more sloppy, tiring out by all the flesh he had to dig his sword into. Only 4 defenders were left standing, when originally there were 12. Cassandra got the first hit on the intruder. It shaved off a strip of his furs and then made a clink noise when it hit metal.
All the defenders left standing heard the clink. They made their attacks harder. The intruder’s parries and attacks were slower and growing softer, growing more tired. More and more hits were finding themselves on him and less on the defenders. With all his strength, he kicked a defender so they’d trip to the ground, and with his sword arm rammed his sword across two of the defenders in their abdomens, causing them to collapse to the ground.
Only one defender was left standing. Cassandra advanced on the intruder. He advanced on her. They circled each other. Parrying each others' single attacks. None of them went all out. They were both waiting for the right moment.
“Mama!” A distressed little girl’s voice called from far away. It distracted Cassandra for a mere instant. The intruder had finally found his moment. He raced his sword to where her armour plates had a gap, at the bottom of her ribs. Cassandra was fast. She arched her sword to the intruder’s head, he wouldn’t be able to parry it since he was already in motion to hit her.
They hit each other at the same time. His sword dug itself into her ribs, into her flesh. It felt like a million needles were being pressed into this slash across her body. She screamed. Her sword dug itself into his skull, into his skin. He didn’t scream, he didn’t have time. He fell backward, dropping his sword. It ran along Cassandra’s side until it made it to the ground. Cassandra fell backward.
It felt like searing cold ice was being embedded into her skin, while all around it was boiling. Instinctively, her hand went to the wound. It was a mistake. She let out another scream. She looked down at her hand. It was covered with blood. Her blood. It was the darkest shade of red. The colour of the deepest part of a rose. Her breath was shallow. It felt as if every breath she took was another slam in the side. It felt as if thick ooze was crawling up her throat every time she pulled air from her lungs.
Her daughter rushed to her side. Tears streaked her face. Her eyes were large and glossy.
“Mama. Mama. Mama.” Was all she could say. Over and over again. It was the only sound. The girl gripped her mother’s neck as she was bent over the fallen defender. Blood was staining the little girl’s dress.
“It’ll be okay.” The mother whispered. The little girl shook her head slightly, still saying ‘Mama, Mama, Mama.’ The little girl didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She wanted to. She tried to. But she couldn't. She couldn’t make herself believe it.
The mother used her hand to push her daughter away, so she could see her fully. She smiled at her face. She will make a strong woman someday, the mother thought, and if only I could see it.
The mother lifted both her hands, her clean one and the one covered in her own blood to her daughter's face. Her daughter did not flinch. Did not give one disgusted look. She was too focused on her mother’s face, smiling a sad smile. It wasn’t a fake smile and she knew it wasn’t. But it was sad. A sad smile. A smile of knowledge. A smile of acceptance. A smile of love.
There was no fear in her mother’s eyes.
“I love you.” The mother whispered one last time as she heaved her final breath. Then she was gone.
The girl let out a broken wail. She hugged her dead mother. She held her so tight as if she would never let her go. The girl moaned and mourned.
Whilst slowly members of the village came to see the commotion, and slowly defenders rose, some didn’t, like the little girl’s mother; but the ones that did helped ones that couldn’t get up get help, while some checked the ones that couldn’t get up, to see if they’d ever rise again.
And all the while the girl was still in the middle of it all, crying, holding her mother’s body, who was leaking blood all over her, though the girl didn’t care, though she didn’t even notice.
Slowly defenders who were injured were taken away by healers, defenders who could walk helped clean all the gore up and it took 4 to take the intruder’s body away. No one touched the girl. No one talked to the girl. They looked at her though. They looked at her and her mother. They would never forget it.
“Delphia.” Enak whispered to the girl, when sunset was upon them. The girl didn’t respond.
“Delphia. We- we have to… give your mother a proper burial…” It hurt to say those words. Enak was best friends with Cassandra, but now all those good times were only memories; and he would have to bury his best friend.
“I-'' The little girl’s voice cracked. The little girl gulped, trying to get moisture in her throat again after being parched.
“I miss her.” The girl unclung her arms around her mother. Looking now around her, she saw blood soaking her white dress, her arms had a large red blotch all across it, and on the back circles ran across her fair skin. She felt a little bit of dried caked blood on her chin and cheek. This was the blood of her Mama. The little girl thought.
Enak laid a silk purple cloth on the ground. He got another defender to help him move the body into the middle of the silk cloth. He started to pull one side of the silk over Cassandra when Delphia ran over to her mother’s head.
“I love you, too.” She kissed her mother’s forehead, right above her mother’s eyes who had been closed. Enak pulled the cloth over her body. Once Cassandra was fully wrapped up he picked her up and brought her to the pyre everyone else had made. He laid her on it with the utmost care and delicacy, like he was holding the world’s thinnest glass and not a corpse.
Delphia had a torch in her hand when he stepped away from the pyre.
“I miss you, Mama.” She lowered the torch to the silk, it caught immediately. She dropped the torch at the bottom of the pyre. The little girl sat down and hugged her knees. She hugged her knees all night long, watching the flame, even after it died out, she watched the embers and ash. Someone gave her the most beautiful purple glass jar. She picked up the ashes herself. She did it all morning until every last ash was in the jar. She let some ashes fly away in the wind because she thought her mama would like to see the whole world, too.
After everyone buried the jar with her dead mother’s ashes, Delphia went back to the grove of Askra trees. Lots of the trees were sliced and damaged. But there was one in the back, unscathed. With one ripe red fruit, the colour of blood.
She went over to it, and very delicately picked it off the Askra tree, unlike that monster who had murdered her mother. It fit perfectly in the palms of her two hands. She knew what she wanted to do. She knew why she wanted to do this. To see her mama again. She bit into the ripe fruit. It was brimming with sweetness and juice spilled down to her palms.
The moment she swallowed the fruit, the world swayed, shimmered, flipped, turned, and then she was in the exact spot she was just standing in with the fruit, but this time, there was no fruit in her hands, and it seemed as if she was seeing the world through water.
She looked around, rubbed her eyes, and then she saw.
She saw all the ghosts of the defenders that had died, rubbing their eyes too, making sure this was real; and in the middle of it was a mother who stood up slowly, looking around worriedly, seemingly searching for something, or someone. She found them, staring at her.
“Mama!” The little girl ran to her mother only to be greeted by a moment of wind, and to realise she was on the other side of her mama.
“Delphia. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. I’m going to take you back home.” The little girl’s voice was catching.
“This is my home now. I am home. But you aren’t. You need to get home.”
“No, no! I miss you.” The little girl pleaded. The little girl’s face was breaking and it was breaking her mother’s heart.
“I love you. So, so, so, so much. It pains me to say this, but you do need to go home. It’s where you belong. You don’t belong here. I’ll see you again. Don’t worry.” The little girl’s mother tried to reassure her.
“I love you, too. I don’t want to go.” And with that, the world started shimmering and twisting and turning again. Too soon! The little girl thought.
“I miss you, too!” Her mother’s voice rang out just before the little girl blinked, and she was back in the exact same spot again, just this time with the fruit in her hands, and her hands sticky from the juice.
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