Dawn of The New Lord

1 | Mother

TW : Hints of suicide and mentions of death (nothing too detailed or violent).

    "And loose," I whispered softly as I released my arrow. It made a loud whoosh in the brisk and misty air as it pierced the wooden target that was dangling on the solid, knotted branches.

    The round target- that was chopped of a sturdy, thick log- started swaying around uncontrollably, so I turned narrowly to face another target. It was undoubtedly a relaxed, steady practice today. Father would call it a tedious one.

    Promptly reaching for another one, my fingers grasped the black feathered end of the wooden arrow in my leather quiver, and I raised the shaft to my recurve bow.

    I notched the arrow and drew the bowstring back to my cheek unhurriedly. After mentally evaluating my aim, I swiftly released my arrow, sending it flying towards my target.

    Archery takes my mind off burdens, and it keeps my sanity in check after all the tedious lady etiquette lessons. There's also a feeling of contentment after putting an arrow in a fictitious person's head, which in reality.. well- is just a chunk of log.

    There's numerous of things I don't have power over, nor have a say in, yet having a bow clutched in hand provides me the feeling of control.

    "You're doing wonderful dear," a feminine voice behind me announced. I glanced over my shoulder to see my mother, my only female friend.

    Ever since her. Ever since she decided she didn't want to be here anymore.

    "Hello, mother. What are you doing out here in the woods?" I asked curiously. 

    "Is it improper to check on my little Artemis?" she questioned teasingly. 

    "No, definitely not. I'm just surprised you chose to come all the way out here instead of sending someone, that's all."

    She gazed at our surroundings, deep in thought. There's not much to see if you ask me. Just thick, tall, and verdant trees stretching for miles. I commonly practice archery in the opening of the woods, where wooden targets my father carved for me sit on the limbs of the trees.

    A scarecrow placed in between two trees with plenty of arrows in its "heart" stared intently at me, as if saying "What have I possibly done to you, missy?"

    I found the idea of that silly and started snickering silently. I remembered asking father for a scarecrow. The stunned look on his face- Exactly gold. I knew that he was struggling to assume what use I would have with a ghastly and tattered scarecrow.

    "Wyetta, are you positive it's safe out here?" my mother asked uneasily. I think she didn't only mean safe physically, but also mentally. Maybe she thinks the loneliness is getting in my head.

    "Mother, I can shoot down a deer in the dark perfectly fine. What's there to worry about?" I queried.

    "I understand perfectly well that you're well equipped, and I most certainly do not doubt your skills, darling. It's just, wouldn't you like practicing in the field behind our manor better than," she gestured towards our eerie surroundings, "this?"

    It's truly difficult- forget that. It's so bloody difficult to put up the lady act, and it's quite darn exhausting. I cherish my special time here in the woods. The feeling of no restriction here, and no one's here to remind me that I need to keep my voice down, or remind me that it's unladylike to hunt. Oh and I didn't have to "mind my language". It's simply spiffing!

    "Mother, my mind functions better alone. I don't need stup- I wouldn't want to trouble the maids and guards anymore than I already have. Besides, I learn how to be independent better this way."

    Goodness gracious, I almost slipped out some words Mother would definitely not approve of. Don't get me wrong, I adore the guards and maids. They're incredibly wonderful. I just loathe the idea of people helping me when I'm perfectly capable of helping not only myself!

    "You're as stubborn as a mule, just like your father," she chuckled. She has no idea. I grinned from ear to ear, because if there's one person I love as much as my mother, it's my father. It's a massive praise when folks tell me that I remind them of father, he's a terrific man.

    I can be myself around him, and I've always suspected that he wanted a son instead of a daughter, but he always accepted me as I am, even when I do utter a whole lot of cusses.

    "That I am, mother. You love us both anyways." 

    "Of course I do. I just fear that something will happen to you here and no one would know. What if a ferocious wolf, or worse, wolves, pass by and decided to feast on you?"

    I'm quite offended that my own mother thinks so low of me. Pft, oh well. Time to trick poor mother for doubting me.

    "Oh mother," I shuddered, "that's awful! Not really-" 

    "Young lady! How could you joke about such a horrendous thing?!" she shrieked.

    "Mother, I'm just trying to assure you that I can take care of myself. Father didn't teach me how to use a dagger for frivolity. If a horrid creature gets close, I'll rip it's- I meant to say, I can protect myself. Don't worry too much about something that probably wouldn't happen."

    "Hm, that's valid," she agreed. Suddenly, I heard another voice that didn't belong to my mother.

   "Even if she made it, she would have been an invalid. I'm sorry you lost her so soon, Wyetta, but she'll be more miserable if she had survived."

    "Wyetta? Sweetheart, are you alright? Wy-"

    "Oh, I'm alright, mother. I was just thinking about something insignificant," I explained.

    I miss her. It's been a while since I lost her, and I still hear conversations I had with people after it occurred. Flashbacks aren't my best pals.

    "Is it something related to Althea again, sweetheart?" my mother inquired as gently as possible. 

    "I miss her. Why did she have to go so fast?" I whimpered.

    "It was her time to go, dear. She would have wanted you to move on."

    I quickly wiped the tear that rolled down my cheek, and mumbled, "If I hadn't done what I did, then she would probably still be here."

    "Even if you didn't do what you did, this, her leaving us, it would have happened too. It is just a matter of time." I stayed silent as I processed her words.

    I still haven't forgiven myself for what happened, but I knew what my mother said was true. Reaching into the pocket in my dress, I took out the amethyst pendant she gave me. She loved gifting jewellery, and I always carried them with me everywhere.

    "Is that the pendant she gave you on your birthday last year?" asked mother. 

    I nodded and said, "Yes. She said it was a reminder of the poisonous berries she almost fed father's horse when we were thirteen."

    I smiled sadly at that memory. We used to have tons of fun, although our parents wouldn't have seen it as fun. I glanced at mother to see that she also had a slight smile etched on her face.

    Hey Thea, if you're listening- or if you're here with me, I hope you're having at least a little fun up there.

    An owl hooting diverted my attention and I craned my neck to see that it was getting dark.

    "Come on, mother. Let's go home. Father's probably waiting for us."

    She smiled and nodded approvingly, taking my hand in hers as she strolled past me.