Even after thinking about it for days, she still didn’t know if what she was doing was right and as the pink haired girl entered the inn and nervously headed for the bar, her expression seemed to darken by the second. She’d fought monsters and gods but never had she felt as nervous as she did now, her mind starting to overflow with questions that she just didn’t know the answers to. What if she was known to this guild? What if she was wanted? What if she’d be laughed at and humiliated before being thrown out of the inn just for inquiring? What if her mother found out what she was about to do? They all bothered her but it was the last one in particular that bothered her the most. For so long she had worshipped her mother, drinking in every word and following her life lessons as though they were gospel and yet now, she’d been forced to face a terrifying truth. A truth that had shattered her confidence and left her as the twitching wreck that she was now.

It had all been gibberish. All of it.

All of Sarisha’s speeches about them being above humans and that they were supposed to terrorise and sow chaos were nothing more than the ravings of a lunatic, drunk with power and completely out of her mind. Cierra had spent her entire life training endlessly. Killing, kidnapping, stealing. You name it, she’d most likely had done it and to suddenly realise that it was all for nothing filled her with panic. She was just her mother’s monster, born and raised to be nothing more than a conduit of destruction to be let loose on the world whenever Sarisha felt the desire to. The pink haired girl had spent her whole life trying to earn the approval of someone that was never going to give it and now she had to live with her crimes against humanity. All of those lives ended by her hand. It’d never crossed her mind then, as deluded as she’d been but now? It had hit her like a truck. She couldn’t bring them back so what could she do?

Sighing, she hopped up onto one of the barstools and silently watched the people around her. They all seemed cheerful enough and Cierra couldn’t help but feel jealous of them. They were so content and happy with their lives, something that she was unsure if she’d ever feel again. The only way forward was to cut herself off from the past and try to make something new, an idea that petrified her if she was honest. There was so much she didn’t know, naive in so many ways, her mind on a different wavelength to everyone else’s. Her hands kept twitching, wanting to move them towards the two swords that hung from her waist, to revert back to her natural instinct, give in to her fear and just raise hell. It was a powerful desire and the pinkette struggled to fight it off.

(508 Words)

*BUUUUUUUUURP*

The longer she spent time in the inn, the louder it got. The echoing rumble of a person’s burping, resulted from excessive intake of carbon dioxide that just happened to come from a handful cans of Dr. Pipe. It was a brattish expression, but Imai simply lived his life the best he could – and if seven cans of Dr. Pipe brought him tranquility, then that would be the way to go!

However, Dr. Pipe was really losing its taste nowadays. Not only in the actual flavor of the bubbly beverage; he had also read of the company’s less-than-noble activities in the river near Mountain Village, the one connecting to the Fishy Fish Sea… to build a dam and filter the water of salt sounded very environmentally progressive at first, since a lotta species o’ freshwater fish would benefit from more and more ecosystems to widen, but if what he had heard was true, then the working conditions at that damn was far from ideal. And the value difference between each liter of usable, filtered freshwater needed for manufacturing of more Dr. Pipe and the wage of the workers building the dam – which, by the way, was still being further built upon to this day for unknown reasons – sounded unfair as well! Imai had to make sure to pay their factory near Mountain Village a visit one day…

Urgh, nevermind, they were just rumors. Going all the way down to South Fiore just to act upon a rumor was a dick move; maybe people were just jealous of Dr. Pipe? Maybe Gletsher Dew and their new brand of Popsee had paid people to spread the rumors, since Dr. Pipe and Popsee both started with P – and Popsee, perhaps, wanted to rid of some competition to ease their advance in the market. Popsee, however, mostly just tasted like a lighter Bola… some of the soda pops were similar to each other and still made their own, nice profits; what was up with that?! Sprout and Fox Sport, for instance… or Miracle and Tanda.

“Tch… that school visit sure went well. Coulda went better without that little brat around, though,” the red-haired Ace lamented dryly, “Welp, I did finish my duties for today, I guess… or maybe… nah, I can take a little break. Hit the room, read the next chapter of MS & KT, or go play with Kenna-nee… wait… are you even listening, Seiiiii? Seeeeeeeeeiiiiiiii!???!”

The back of his blue shirt would bulge out, revealing a living creature underneath it. Sei, the cute, pink alien flew out of its neck opening and floated in the air, a little yawny and full of dormant energy. Safe to say, it wasn’t listening at all.

“Aw, c’mon! You were sleeping the entire time?! I looked so dumb talking to no one this whole time!” he expressed in panic, deciding to ease his nerves by bringing back the bag of empty cans that he had gathered up. The bag was simply plowed right on the bar table, right next to a pink-haired twitchy girl who looked a little extra dark on the coffee this morning.

“Wassuuuuuuuup, dude!? Dude, over here – I got your cans! Make sure to pawn them all… and, uh…” His gaze finally turned to the fidgety fingers of the cherry-haired lady with a pair of pretty fucking cool swords on her waist. She looked distraught as hell. “… Haven’t had your coffee yet, girl? We can make yours extra dark, if you tongue can take it… say, are those your swords too? Those looks sick! They might individually be smaller than Itori’s buster sword, but there’s something to respect about dual-wielders if you ask me – it’s kind of an umph type of profession… not that I’d know any of it, since I don’t dual-wield… I… okay, to be honest, I know next to nothing about swords, really; I don’t think I’ve wielded one before… huuuuuuuuuuh… so, uh, you wanted a coffee or what? Or are you a tea person?”

WC: 668
TWC: 1176

The pink haired mage had no idea who the guy was and she struggled to get a word out in response to his barrage of questions. He probably meant well and all but she just didn’t have the confidence to answer him although her hands did again briefly rub her weapons for support. She made no effort to attack or anything like that, knowing that if she did anything stupid then she was going to just end up in trouble. So, the young Huxx simply nodded her head in answer to his question about her blades and remained silent, trying to come up with something else to say.

Much to her relief, a familiar voice reached her at that point and Cierra didn’t hesitate for a moment in accepting her half sister’s hug, melting into it. Gaia had been so supportive in the short time that Cierra had known her and the pink haired teenager didn’t think she could have broken away from her mother without her. The requip mage knew that she was going to need her sister's support even more now, at the start of her new life but the young Huxx hoped that she could move forwards with it, slowly. It was such a relief for her to know someone in the guild already and Cierra honestly wasn’t sure if she would have walked through the inn doors at all if she didn’t.

When they finally broke apart and her sister took a seat beside her, Cierra would nod her head and gratefully take Gaia’s hand when it was offered to her. “I’d appreciate a quieter place to talk.” She finally admitted softly, her voice lacking the confidence that it’d once had. The thought of possibly bringing up her past in the middle of the tavern was something she definitely didn’t want to do although that worry was surpassed by the possibility of her bursting into tears, which she’d probably never live down, in her mind anyway. Showing weakness was something that she’d been told never to show from such a young age and even now, it caused her stomach to twist into knots. A voice in the back of her head was mocking her for acting with such nervousness and worry but the pink haired teenager understood that it was all a part of the process. How could forgetting everything you’d been taught to believe in be easy?

(402 Words)
(1956 TWC)