Chapter Two

Tears of Disgrace

Rosette opened her large blue eyes as the morning sun’s first rays of light crept across her pale cheeks. As her gaze fell upon the wooden beams that ran across the ceiling, the young girl could not help but let her thoughts drift back to the events of the previous evening. Finally, she would travel to Lantinena. She would be able to see what a real town was actually like and experience life outside of the village, even if it was only for a short while.

Although Gythel had found Rosette in the streets of a city when she was only three selun old, the young girl had almost no recollection of her life there. Only a few distorted images entered her mind through a blurred veil on rare occasion. So in her mind, Rosette had never experienced anything but the village life in Yanken’bah.

Although she generally enjoyed her life on Gythel’s small farm, it did get somewhat too predictable and monotonous at times. Thusly, it became rather boring on regular occasion.

A small part of the young girl craved for adventure, but she had resigned herself long ago to the fact that it would never find her in Yanken’bah. That was fine by her; at least there she would live a content life, possibly even a happy one confined within the excluded village.

The young girl rolled off of her straw mattress, throwing aside the coarse woollen blanket that covered her petite frame. A shiver ran down her spine as the soles of Rosette’s bare feet touched the cold timber. The petite girl shook golden ringlets of hair out of her face, casually blowing at the few strands that continuously sprang back to their original position, as she strode across her bedroom toward the petite dresser.

The dresser was beautifully crafted, each intricate detail an exquisite display of craftsmanship in itself. It was made of polished, dark red Kuun wood that gleamed in the bright rays of the rising sun. The entire surface of the dresser was carved into an elaborate pattern of roses and thorns.

Each of the individual roses was crafted so perfectly that it appeared as though a rose bush had grown up from under it, capturing the dresser within the bushes midst as time passed by. Jyrrel had crafted the beautiful work of carpentry specifically for Rosette many selun ago. Back when she was a small child, before the tragic fire…

Rosette shook her head sharply, banishing the thoughts of Jyrrel to the back of her mind. This was no day to be getting upset by dwelling upon the past; it was time to look forward to the brilliantly shining future. A tiny grin made its way across her thin pink lips as she thought of Lantinena and what she may find there. Adventure at last? Maybe not, but a girl could at least dream.

The young girl swiftly made her way through her morning ritual and was soon to be found cooking the breakfast porridge, as the familiar sounds of the men awakening reached her ears. Today was going to be a good day, of that Rosette was sure. There was no housework that needed her immediate attention so she was planning to voyage into Yanken’bah to share the exciting news of her impending departure with Gythea.

As was normal in their household, Conit was the first of the men to sidle into the front room. However, his usual broad grin was replaced with a small frown as though he had been restlessly contemplating an issue for many hours. Conit’s piercing green eyes were slightly swollen and extremely bloodshot from lack of sleep. This strange occurrence dampened Rosette’s good mood considerably as she slid a steaming bowl of porridge in front of the young man.

“What’s wrong Conit?” Rosette asked, placing a petite hand upon his toned shoulder. She felt the muscles in his back tense through the thin cloth of his work shirt.

“Nothing,” The young man responded curtly, shrugging away her hand roughly. The young girl’s brow creased in concern as she looked upon her brother’s sour features. Automatically, Rosette’s right hand made its way to the springy ringlet beside her face; her nimble fingers toying frantically with the golden locks.

“Conit, why don-”

“I said it is nothing, little one. Do not worry your little head about it.” Conit briefly flashed Rosette a shadow of his trademark grin before sinking once more into the depths of silent solitary contemplation.

The young girl gazed steadily at her brother, a frown marring her pale brow. She could probe Conit all she wanted but he would never give slip any information he deemed important; he was rather quick-witted in that sense.

So it would appear that Rosette had a choice to make. On one hand, she could worry her entire day away to her heart’s content, or she could believe in Conit’s ability to fix his own problems.

For a few moments, the young girl weighed her options before conceding that the latter choice would be the most appropriate course of action. After all, he was an intelligent man and this was supposed to be her day off to revel in blissful fun - a rare luxury indeed.

The remaining two men of the household strode into the front room, Syren chatting animatedly about the newest stories he had heard from Zytella, the healer of Yanken’bah.

“Ah, those tales she tells; they never do cease to amaze me. The woman has such a vast and vivid imagination.” Gythel shook his shaggy grey head, a chuckle of laughter spurting from between his chapped lips.

“Father, you should have heard this one Zytella told about Zireeba and the elves of Letunis. They had this war with the elves of Pravius that lasted for over a Scruntios!” Syren exclaimed excitedly, his hazel eyes widening as his tan toned arms gesticulated wildly about his person. “Can you imagine a war that waged for over a thousand selun?”

Rosette’s bright blue eyes found the kitchen window as her mind drifted off to daydream about her brand new favourite subject, Lantinena. The young girl let out a soft sigh as she thought about all of the different people that would be wandering throughout the large town cloaked with mystery, each accompanied by their own unique tale of deception and betrayal.

“Little one!” Syren semi-yelled from across the wooden table causing Rosette to jump nervously. The young girl turned to face her brother with her slender arms folded neatly across her petite chest, her sky blue eyes narrowed in a mocking glare.

“What do you want, Syren?” The golden haired girl snapped impatiently, her thin lips twisted into a stern expression as she clucked her tongue in irritation. However, the serious expression was ruined by her bright blue orbs, which twinkled with mischief in the soft morning light.

“I was merely inquiring as to what your plans for the day are.” A lazy half-grin grew upon Syren’s full lips as he leaned backwards in the sturdy wooden chair, raising a light-brown eyebrow in jesting challenge. “But if it is too much to ask for you to answer a simple inquiry such as that, I understand; I really do.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice as Syren glanced casually at the jagged fingernails of his callused right hand.

“Actually, it is too much to ask of me. For my personal day-to-day plans happen to not be any part of your business dear brother,” Rosette replied scathingly as she placed bowls of piping hot porridge in front of both Gythel and Syren before taking the only remaining seat at the table across from Conit.

“Ah, so I guess that means that your plans must include young Slouvic then.” The muscular man unleashed an ear-splitting grin that deepened his already prominent dimples as Rosette’s pale cheeks flushed pink at the mention of the young bar-hand.

“Syren! You promised me!” Rosette exclaimed in a high-pitched whine. The young girl swiftly clasped her petite hands over her now crimson face as the realisation of what she had just freely admitted to her entire family sunk in.

“Slouvic, huh?” Rosette watched Gythel scratch his grey head in thought through the small gaps between her fingers. “He is a good lad. A fine choice too.” The old man gave a singular, slight nod of his withered head in approval. Conit, on the other hand, remained stock-still, his piercing emerald eyes fixated upon the young girl’s small form.

“I hope you realise that I will get you back for this Syren.” Rosette had removed her pale hands from her face and her icy gaze was now fixated solely upon her eldest brother.

“I’m counting on it.” Syren sent the young girl another roguish grin before swaggering back to his bedroom.

The petite girl felt a tiny smile tug at the corners of her pink lips. He may be the most irritating person in the whole of Symenthia and the bane of Rosette’s life, but even she had to admit; Syren at least never ceased to entertain.

The young girl strode purposefully through the streets of Yanken’bah, her emerald green skirt swishing about her slender ankles. Rosette smiled politely and nodded her golden head in greeting to the different citizens that passed her by, going about their daily business within the village. A small basket, which had been strung from the blindingly white vines of the Yuppel tree, was looped around the girl’s pale forearm. It swung back and forth in time with her steady gait, constantly knocking into Rosette’s narrow hip in a rhythmic pattern.

As Rosette strode past the butcher’s shop that was owned by a family friend, Norsan, a group of children who could not have been older than six selun sped across the young girl’s path causing a small, blissful smile to grace her thin lips. Ah, how she wished to be carefree once more. Without the need to worry about harvest profit and crop rotation, Rosette was sure that the world would be a much happier place in which to live.

The young girl made good time to Gythea’s humble cottage, arriving just before the blazing orange sun reached its highest point in the cloudless sky.

Gythea’s father, Merik, owned the village’s sole flourmill on the northeastern outskirts. Although his business was extremely profitable and there was forever a vast inflow of gold into their household, Merik’s family chose to live comfortably and modestly with a few semi-luxurious items.

Josei, Gythea’s mother, opened the plain Junipel door that was covered by the midnight-black climbing vines of the Hurass plant. The plump woman beamed at the young girl before her as she pulled Rosette into a tight embrace.

“Oh, Rosette my little chickadee! How have you been?” Josei exclaimed excitedly, quickly pulling away from the embrace to hold the young girl at arm’s length as her scrupulous emerald eyes swept over Rosette’s form critically.

“It has been far too long since I saw you last! You hardly come into the village anymore! Look at you! Wasting away before my very eyes.” The fair-skinned woman continued to gush over Rosette’s appearance whilst her plump arms gesticulated wildly around the pair; her hands occasionally pulling at a lock of the young girl’s hair, or tweaking Rosette’s nose.

The petite girl laughed good-heartily at the vivacious woman who had been like a mother to her since Kiera’s untimely demise. Josei had always been the one to look after Rosette when she was just a little girl playing in the fields near the Tienzeng Forest. She had been the one to give the young girl her first piece of jewellery and teach her the craft of sewing.

The dark haired woman had listened to Rosette’s insane rants about Slouvic and offered advice in return. By all means, the young girl was extremely thankful and privileged that Josei had taken her on as a second daughter.

“So what has been happening? What is going on between you and Slouvic? You have to tell me! You know I need my daily dose of the good word – gossip!” The tall woman trilled away happily as she forcefully led Rosette through to the vibrantly decorated front room by her slender arm. Josei plunked herself onto the elaborately embroidered padded bench, pulling the young girl violently down beside her.

“I’ve just been doing the usual housework. Unfortunately I haven’t had the time to venture into the village, which means that I have not participated in any more escapades with Slouvic.” A small, sorrowful smile contorted Rosette’s pink lips as the young girl shrugged her petite shoulders. This action caused the small bands of white cloth that kept the ruffled, top half of her dress covering the young girl modestly to slip down an inch or so, exposing the pale skin of Rosette’s shoulders.

“Ah, that is a shame, chickadee.” Josei patted the young girl’s arm consolingly, flipping her waist length braid of dark brown hair over her plump shoulder as she did so. “Never mind though. You two will be such a handsome couple when you are married with beautiful little babes running about the place!”

Rosette could not help but chuckle at the older woman’s humorous gestures and exuberant manner. During the recent months in which she had been confined to the farm, the young girl had greatly missed the mindless chatter that accompanied interaction with other females. Although Rosette did love Gythel and the boys, they were no replacement for random conversation that spiralled off on more tangents than one of Zytella’s infamous tales.

“I suppose I should let you go see Gythea. Maybe you can find out what is wrong with the poor girl; she has been moping about the cottage for days now! Refusing to eat, claiming she’s not hungry. I don’t understand! No one can resist my…” Josei blithered on; the speed of the words passing her plump, red lips steadily increasing until it was impossible for the young girl to discern one from another.

Rosette nodded her head in dazed understanding, a small frown creasing her brow. She had caught the words ‘poor girl’ and ‘moping’ somewhere within Josei’s hysteric rant. This did not sound good. It seemed the young girl would have to perform damage control – and quickly.

“I will go tend to Gythea.” Rosette sent the plump woman a reassuring smile, soothing her shaken nerves. The young girl stood from the bench and smoothed the wrinkles from her emerald skirt.

“Thank you Rosette. Come say goodbye before you go.” Josei smiled brightly up at the girl once more, a sparkle clear in her emerald orbs. “I have a little present for you.”

“I will Josei.” The young girl nodded her golden head and departed the front room to navigate her way through the small maze of hallways.

When Rosette arrived at Gythea’s bedroom door, she heard the sound of sniffled crying coming from within. The young girl raised her right hand to knock upon the plain Mizauro door. Instantly, the crying was silenced.

“Who is it?” came a muffled voice croak from within.

“It’s me. Rosette,” the young girl called back, her voice displaying her intense concern for her friend. The sound of rapid, shuffled footsteps was the only reply; a few seconds later the door was slowly opened to reveal Gythea.

The sixteen-selun old girl was only a shadow of her normal self, a mere replication that had been taken down a disturbingly distorted road. Gythea’s waist-length jet-black hair, which usually hung in a luxurious silken curtain that framed her heart-shaped face, was tangled and ratty. Her wide set, piercing emerald eyes that Rosette thought to be exact replica’s of Josei’s own were swollen and bloodshot beyond belief.

Gythea was clothed only in a crumpled white nightdress that hung limply from her curvaceous body, but from the dark bags that clung to the skin beneath her eyes, Rosette was sure that her friend had not slept for days.

“Oh, Gythea,” Rosette murmured softly as the taller girl collapsed onto her petite form in a fit of hysteric sobs. The young girl gently stroked Gythea’s tangled raven locks, muttering words of comfort all the while.

“Let’s go inside.” She firmly steered her friend back into her bedroom, closing the Mizauro door forcefully behind them.

Rosette looked on with growing concern as Gythea arranged her long body comfortably onto her straw mattress whilst trying to control the sobs that were wracking her body. The young girl perched on the edge of the straw mattress, her feet kicking agitatedly at the wooden floor. The taller girl was curled up on the top half of the mattress, her toned arms looped around her lower legs.

“So are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to force it out of you?” Rosette asked lightly, an attempted chuckle becoming a strained croak. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right at all.

Gythea was the strong one. She never cried; she only looked toward a better tomorrow, a brighter future. The young girl had never known anything to anguish her friend so much that it reduced her to tears. Even when they were still young babes, Gythea forever had a smile on her pointed, red lips. What could possibly have done this?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” was Gythea’s monotonous reply. Her emerald green eyes had lost their sparkle as they gazed dully at the bare opposing wall. Rosette heaved a great sigh; why couldn’t she make it easy? Just this once?

“I hope you realise you have chosen an extremely difficult path. Thusly, you cannot hold me responsible for my actions. You bought this on yourself,” the young girl stated as she stretched out her fingers. Suddenly, Rosette launched herself at Gythea and began to tickle her stomach relentlessly.

“Tell me!” She demanded forcefully.

“Rosette!” Came the squealing reply as the taller girl struggled to free herself from the young girl’s grip.

“Tell me!”

“Get off!” A hint of a smile crept onto Gythea’s thin, red lips as they rolled squealing atop the straw mattress.

“Tell me!” The young girl’s petite hands were a flurry of movement as she tickled her friend relentlessly whilst fending off Gythea’s counterattacks.

“Never!” The older girl exclaimed ebulliently as the first note of musical laughter spilled from her mouth; her piercing emerald orbs had finally regaining some of their normal mischievous glint.

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Tell me!”

“Never,” Gythea gasped as her body convulsed with fits of hysteria, the joyful laughter coursing through her being.

“Gythea, tell me.” Rosette allowed a sly smirk to creep onto her pink lips. The older girl’s weakness had always been her ticklish stomach and sides. The young girl wouldn’t have heard many of Gythea’s secrets if it hadn’t been for that particular weak spot. Rosette increased the movement of her hands to triple the speed.

“I re … relent! I-I-I relent!” The taller girl choked after several more seconds filled with tinkling laughter.

Immediately, Rosette returned to her previous position on the straw mattress whilst Gythea took to pacing the spacious room; her bare feet thwacking hard against the wood. The young girl bit down lightly upon her bottom lip as her bright blue eyes tracked her friend’s frenzied movement, patiently waiting for her to begin.

The taller girl began to tug nervously at the raven locks around her face as her large eyes gazed unfocused at the timbered ceiling.

“A few weeks ago I snuck out of the cottage to rendezvous with Oryl in the fields by the Tienzeng Forest.” Gythea continued to pace the width of the room as she slowly began her tale.

From the mere mention of Oryl, Rosette already had an inkling of where this tale would end. That man had always been bad news as far as she was concerned. “During our little meeting, he told me that he loved me and that I was the kind of girl he could settle down with.

“You know, bung out a couple of babes and he’d take over the smithy from his pop.” A ghostly smile stretched over Gythea’s thin, cracked lips, a glaze slowly spreading over her eyes as the memory played before her. Rosette kept silent as she peered at her friend in utter disbelief.

The young girl had known that Gythea’s liking of Oryl was bordering on slight obsession, but she had never thought that it had somehow managed to get this bad. Even in this disastrous state, the older girl somehow managed to conjure up a smile of bliss at the mere thought of the man. It was absolutely absurd.

“It was the most perfect night.” The cracked smile grew as she breathed a gentle sigh. “The stars were a-twinkling away at us from the velvet sky. The soft grass tickled our sides as we lay there, entwined in each other’s arms. When he said that, I thought this is it! He’s going to propose!” A small frown wrinkled Gythea’s smooth forehead as the reality of the situation slowly ebbed its way back into her consciousness.

“He didn’t have a ring and he said that couldn’t afford to buy one just yet. But would get me one - eventually. He promised me, he did!” A sole tear leaked from Gythea’s right eye, slowly coursing down her pale cheek to drop onto the timber underfoot. The conclusion of that single teardrop’s journey seemed to cue the rest.

Suddenly, the older girl was sprawled on the floor. Her curvaceous body wracking with hysteric sobs as a strangled scream filled the air. Immediately, Rosette shot across the room.

“It’s ok. It’ll be ok,” the young girl murmured in Gythea’s ear as she clung tightly to her shoulders. “Don’t worry, it will be great. In fact, we’ll make it fantastic!”

Gythea’s only reply was a gargled scream as her skeletal fingers clawed at the scarlet and gold embroidered rug beside the two girls. Rosette stroked the older girl’s raven locks, gently combing them away from her face all the while speaking soft words of comfort.

“Hey chickadee, stop crying; everything will be great, you’ll see. No, actually it’ll be better than that; it will be just perfect. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to put this mess right.” The young girl offered her friend a small smile as her eyes began to water. Gythea’s sobs gently eased to quiet sniffling. The older girl turned to face her companion, her emerald green eyes filled with utter despair.

“Rosie, you don’t understand.” Rosette’s blue orbs locked with Gythea’s green ones. The curvaceous girl was imploring her to understand, begging the young girl to not make her have to say it.

Alas, the naïve farm-girl could not conceive the source of Gythea’s distress.

“I thought we were going to be married. I thought Oryl loved me just as much as I love him.” The taller girl took a deep, steadying breath. The features of her pretty face twitched uncontrollably as Gythea tried to maintain an impassive mask. “We-” Her voice began to crack. She took another deep breath in a desperate attempt to calm her thoroughly rattled nerves.

“I-I … l-let him … t-t-take m-my …” The last word was discernible over an anguished scream on Gythea’s part.

Once more, the older girl dissolved into a sobbing fit, cradled in the young girl’s slender arms. Whilst Gythea continued to wail in misery and rant garbled gibberish, Rosette was pondering over what her friend could have possibly meant.

What could Oryl take from Gythea to make her this upset? It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t materialistic in any way whatsoever; Josei and Merik had made sure of that. So why would it matter this much?

“…I’m pregnant!” The younger girl was snapped back from her pondering daze by those two little words. She had been so consumed by her own thoughts, Rosette had not only failed to realise that Gythea was speaking clear Symenthian once more, but also the entire rant spewing from the older girl’s mouth exempt for the two words ‘I’m pregnant’.

“You’re pregnant?” Rosette questioned astounded; her sky blue eyes opened wide, giving the young girl the appearance of a small, innocent child.

“I said; what if I’m pregnant?” The raven-haired girl looked up at Rosette, terror painted plainly across her features. Realisation pounded from within the young girl’s naïve mind.

“Oryl… he took your … w-womanhood, didn’t he?” the golden-haired girl managed to stutter. She didn’t want to believe it; Gythea had degraded herself and disgraced her entire family. If anyone found out about this, then the older girl would be shunned for the rest of her life. After all, good news may have travelled fast in Yanken’bah, but that was nothing compared to the spread of sordid gossip.

Gythea nodded her raven head shamefully before turning away from Rosette completely. “But it isn’t just that. Oryl did something else as well …”

Author's Note: Hey all! What do you think? Too dramatic? Thanks for reading and, once again, please review!!