[Memory] A Father Knows Best

Charity’s father knows the truth...

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A large forest in Central Anaxas, the once-thriving mostly human town of Dorhaven is recovering from a bombing in 2719 at its edge.

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Charity Valentin
Posts: 129
Joined: Mon Jul 09, 2018 5:41 pm
Topics: 23
Race: Galdor
Location: Vienda
: The voices aren't real, right?
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Raksha
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Tue Jul 31, 2018 9:19 am

12th Hamis, 2707
VIENDA | AFTERNOON
Image
Charity stepped out of the carriage and looked up at the grey house that held far too many unsettling memories within, and even more so, an unsettling occupant. Her heart thumped madly against her ribs, mouth dry and anxiety gripping her chest. Her bags were carried from the moa drawn vehicle by the passive’s that her father employed, and frankly the blonde barely noticed them, violet eyes scanning the windows of the two story building looking for his silhouette. Of course however, he wasn’t standing looking for her, he would be waiting in his study like any good Captain would wait for their underlings.

Why though, the visit home?

The young woman brushed her skirts nervously and walked through the tall wrought iron gates towards the front door, her gaze drifting to the theatre only a couple of doors down. It seemed so dull and abandoned during the day, a stark contrast to the beautiful phosphorus lit venue when it opened at night for plays and musical entertainment. You’ll play there soon enough. Her father would say, not in encouragement but in matter of fact reality. He’d paid good money for her lessons, priming his offspring for his selected career path for her. A great deal of important influential men attended the theatre, and if Damen had his way one of them would have Charity’s hand in marriage.

And he always had his way.

Stepping through the front door, Charity made her way towards her father’s study, her stomach in knots. There’d been no reason provided as why her father had wanted her summoned, only a note left with her dorm leader when she’d returned from the Stacks with Rhys. As she walked a small smile graced her lips, slowing her footsteps.

Rhys Valentin.

They’d been rebellious, sneaking away to the Stacks when really they were supposed to be studying, and it was clocking awesome. Her cheeks still hurt from laughing and smiling, enamoured by the boy even if she knew there was no future there. Maybe though, if Damen could see how well they got along, he might change his mind about the boy.

Did he know about the the fact she’d been spending time with the taller boy? Surely not. They were in Brunnhold and he was in Vienda.

“Charity Anne D’Arthe, stop lingering in the hall.” A stern voice called from the study, sending a cold rush through the girl and causing her to jump. She picked up the pace, stepping quickly to enter the green decorated room where Captain Damen D’Arthe stood before his desk, hands clasped behind his back.

“Sorry sir.” She said with a small curtsy, eyes on the floor between them and hands by her sides. She didn’t fiddle or fuss, knowing that her father hated fiddlers. Damen raised an eyebrow at her, looking down his nose, before nodding to the door.

“Is living in Brunnhold so barbaric that you’ve forgotten how to shut doors? Snap too, girl!” He growled, the petite teenager scrambling to close the door with a hasty apology, her eyes widening at his tone. The man cut a dark foreboding figure in a black military cut suit, he always wore black when he didn’t wear his Seventen uniform, small mauve cravat tucked neatly into the black dress shirt. On his belt hung his baton and his cuffs, as though ready to apprehend criminals even off duty.

“Tell me girl, how is life in the University? You’re studies go well, I take it?” Charity nodded quickly, caught a little of guard by his question. Her violet gaze flickered to his face, before settling back on the plush carpet underfoot.

“Yes sir. I’m taking Quantitive and Perceptive as my focus’, but I’ve also—“

“I hear you’ve been studying with a partner. A one Rhys Valentin. Isn’t that the rabble I told you to stay away from only a season ago?” The blonde swallowed hard, her pale considerably paler as the blood rushed from it. How did he know? Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to think of a reply, fear creeping up her spine.

“Yes but we’re studying together because we’re in the same classes, sir. And he’s helping with my—“ Damen slammed a hand down on his desk, the contents on it surface bouncing and shaking with the force. Charity suppressed a yelp, her eyes widening further and hands gripping her skirt tightly.

“I explicitly told you not to engage with that goney, and you disobeyed me.” The budding pianist shook her head, stammering excuses.

“We’re in the same class, and he’s my study partner. It’s not anything more than that.” The taller man looked at her, blue eyes cold and hard. He took a breath as though to speak, seeming to loose his temper and his words with a huff, before trying again.

“It’s one thing to disobey me child, it’s entirely another to lie to me. I know you’ve been spending all your time with the boy, clearly his good for nothing behaviour is wearing off on you.” Scoffing, Damen waggled a finger at her.

“I know about the Stacks recently.” He raised his hand to silence her desperate attempts to deny everything, ignoring her reasoning. Charity felt tears sting her eyes, and she raised her hands defensively, moving backwards towards the door. Cold terror laced the frayed edges of her field.

“How...but I...I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I won’t!” She begged, turning to grasp the handle and yank open the door. Damen sighed heavily, shaking his head as he moved from the desk, walking towards his daughter with a lazy wave of his hand to push the door shut with a single word.

“No, I suspect you will. Because you’re an insolent wench ready to lay down for the first boy that comes along. Just like your mother.” Charity frowned, a sudden surge of hatred and anger searing her chest and burning her throat. She spun to face him with small fists clenched tightly and field simmering with rage.

“Don’t talk about her like that, you lugger!” She snapped, crying out with surprised pain as his hand engaged with her jaw, knocking the girl back against the door with a loud slap. Her head rang, and her cheek burned, but the Seventen was careful to ensure his mark would fade without deep bruising. He knew how to break even the most hardened criminals without leaving a mark, a mouthy girl was laughable. Cowering against the wood, Charity burst into tears as he reached for her clothing and threw her across the room onto the floor, smooth dark hair drooping over his forehead and breathing rapid.

“And just like your brother with that fucking mouth. Don’t you see Charity? The Valentin’s are worthless, poxy plantation owners. Barely worth a single glance. I’m a Captain in the Seventen, a Captain! Do you know how hard I worked for my reputation girl?” Leaning over to pick her up by the shoulders, Damen yelled into her face, his face red and vein throbbing in his temple. His field snapped viciously around them like an angry chrove, overwhelming the timid hum of her own. Squeezing her arms, the man in black shoved her hard, watching as she fell back over one of the armchairs that sat opposite the desk. A crying, trembling mess, Charity crawled back away from her father to press her back against the lower rung of the bookshelf. Gritting his teeth, Damen knelt down and curled a hand into her hair, forcing the blonde to look directly at him.

“I will not let you destroy the last of my legacy because you’re hounding for some boy. I tell you who to court, who to befriend, who to marry. I am your father and you are my property. Do you understand Charity Anne? Mine. Sobbing, the battered teenager reached for his hand, trying to wrench it from her hair. Damen slapped her again, before tugging hard on the platinum locks.

“Do you understand?!” He roared, blue eyes wild with fury. Charity cringed, gasping in terror and yelling loudly.

“Yes! Yes, I understand!” She sobbed, violet eyes squeezed shut and hands shaking. The Bastian stared at her for a moment longer before grunting and throwing her down, standing slowly whilst adjusting his cuff links.

“You will end it with this Valentin boy, immediately. No more Stacks, and no more studying. You are gated indefinitely, and over Roalis break you will come home.” Charity looked up at him from the floor, her cheek an angry red against the alabaster of her skin. Straightening his suit sleeves and waistcoat, Damen clasped his hands behind his back with a scowl.

“Get out. Get presentable. I’m introducing you to Magister Tenbrook tonight. His son is an upcoming playwrit, and he’s looking for a first chair in the orchestra, not to mention a potential marriage when you’re of age.” Climbing to her feet, Charity brushed a hand through her hair and fixed her dress. She reached for the door, opening it with her chin high, pausing as the man spoke.

”If I hear you’ve spent any further time ‘studying’, I will personally ensure that no one see’s him again. Trust me Charity Anne, I can make very bad things happen for Rhys and his pathetic father.” Swallowing hard, the teenager fled from her father’s study to take the stairs that led to her childhood bedroom. Slamming the door shut, the blonde sat down on the edge of the bed, taking huge gasps of air as tears fell freely from her cheeks. No one came to see if she was okay, all the staff too frightened of their Seventen employer to stand in his way or report him to his own officers. Sobbing, shaking and sore, the young woman allowed herself a moment for his words to sink in. What it really meant for her.

She had to end it with Rhys.

A sinking feeling dragged at her chest, bringing fresh tears. Not of physical pain, but of heartbroken despair. Reaching for her pillow, the young galdor wept until she couldn’t.


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