Diary of Decille Extra: Outside Statement

"She has barely moved since Piette passed away."
The Midwife thought to herself, looking to the woman in front of her.
"Her eyelids keep darting around while she is asleep, and she mutters to herself constantly while awake, in truth I don't think she even realises it"
she continued as she cleaned the room around her patient.
"I can't even begin to relate what she is going through right now, her husband murdered and their daughter was essentially born without a chance at life"  "Heartbreaking events to say the least... so young as well... nobody deserves this type of pain"
Her thoughts came crashing to a stop as the first clear words in what must have been days escaped from the young woman's lips.

"Anette"

"That name again?" the midwife thought to herself, remembering that name being mumbled many times in her patient's near silence.

"Miss, are you okay?" she cautiously asked, worried, yet partially relieved.

Not another word was shared, the young woman gave a glance at the midwife, her eyes filled with anything but sorrow. The level of determination in those emerald eyes was chilling to the bone. Feeling like she didn't even see the woman for who she was..

The young lady stepped out of bed and moved towards her proper clothing, folded neatly on a table on the edge of the room. She got dressed looked at the midwife, nodded and was on her way.



At first step after closing the door, she grasped the left side of her chest and looked up momentarily, before heading out from this building, ripe with new, bad memories.

Diary of Decille Entry #24

Entry #24

It is so strange what we do as women to look better for people, usually men, but sometimes just in general. Beauty is something that so many women and some men want to reach and want to keep it, some people even to unsafe levels. Pulling hairs out of their faces, shaving hairs elsewhere, perfumes and makeup created from some questionable things. Splashing themselves with over the top odor's, tormenting their hair with heating and colours, and painting their faces with makeup that most of us have no idea what it is made of.

Why do I bring this all up?

Because I love it!

The complete shift in atmosphere and feelings you deal with when going from traveling day after day in the wild, or occasionally towns full of strangers. I suppose I am in a town full of strangers right now, but it really doesn't feel like it. Being here with Chris and Ganak, in a town they are both familiar with , people who know and like them, staying with Christine's aunt... it is very nice, it feel very like home.

So much like home in fact, that Chris insisted I take the weight off of my shoulders, let my hair down...so to speak. She insisted in fact, bringing me to the seamstress in town, setting up something special...which honestly has me excited as well as worried. Then we got back to her aunt's house with big promises for tomorrow.

It feels great to have a day of fun again, simple day, nice people and so much relaxation. Ganak feels at home here too, it is great to see him so calm and happy.

Looking forward to what surprises tomorrow hold for me.

Anette

Honest to goodness fanart...

People found this blog, enjoyed it and I recently received two works of fan art from two different artists!

Dear Anette,

There are many things I want to say to you. However, it is a possibility that I will not survive this journey. It is for this reason I write this letter.

I hated you...at first. Atreiocuh's death made my soul simmer in anger, so much so that it dulled the pain. I sought revenge in everything, from vile magic, to pacts with devils and dark gods. None listened, thankfully, but it does speak to my state of mind at the time. I wanted you more than dead. So much more.

At least, until I bore my child. I cradled her still body in my arms for what must have been hours. I sang her that old lullaby mother would sing us when we were restless. The midwife must have thought me mad, but she was quite respectful regardless. Atreiocuh and I had not yet decided on a name before he passed. I thought naming her alone would be difficult. It was not as hard as I expected.

Piette; I like that name. It reminds me of the strong. Strong enough to stand when no others would.

I recall a proverb Father would say to me when we quarreled, especially in cases when I was being selfish.

“Let other before you in life, and find them behind you in battle.”

I had no idea what he meant at the time. It simply annoyed me, if I'm being honest. Only a few short months ago did I come to realize the wisdom in his words. I only wish I'd seen it sooner, and let a few more in front of me...

So now, I find myself with no hatred or anger left. Only crushing sorrow...and so many questions...

I attacked, yes, but not to kill. Did you wish me dead? Why would you allow such a monstrous curse to be laid on my beloved? Was I truly such a terrible sister? Did I earn this suffering somehow in your eyes?

But most of all, I want to know where you learned to kill. Because it was a lesson hard learned for me. Your eyes weren't of fear, or hate. They were empty, as if you were taking a step, or even a breath. When I left home, my sister did not kill on reflex. Not only does she, but now she does so well.

These questions are all that remain in this empty shell. I pray that you have the answers. I pray with all my heart. For if you do not, even death cannot protect you from me. I don't want to kill you, sister.

Please...I don't have much left...

Adelle Decille died twice at your hand, 'Nette; She only came back once.

A Family Confrontation (Adelle)

“Aside, child!”

In the wake of my voice, I become aware of the silence that has overtaken this small hovel. The sounds of scraping metal, leather stretching as we tighten our grips against the steel, and shifting earth beneath our feet are all that reach my ears. I shift the weight of my blade from my side, and place my sword arm over my shoulder. I feel a small burning sensation as the weight pulls all the way through through to my chest.

I expect her to step away, fearing the reach and power of my first swing. She surprises me by raising her own blade, and taking a light step forward. I cover my face with my off hand, and brush the strands of dark hair from it. Hesitance? And star's tears...fear? Absolute garbage! I let out a small scoff, looking down upon my sister.

At full height, she barely reaches my chest, and her frail frame has a poor chance against mine. She wears a peasant's idea of smithing; bits of scrap held together by hide padding and buckles. The sword she wields couldn't even be used to properly sharpen mine...

Yet still, those cool eyes piercing through the fiery waves draped across her head...give me pause...

“You throw your loyalty to this rabid hound? Over a Knight Decille? Over your elder sister!?”

“A Knight Decille would never abandon those they swore to protect...” Her tone is monotonous and firm. Fear...or determination? Maybe a little of both.

“You think yourself a knight, little sister? You belong tilling fields, not crossing blades!” A small laugh escapes my lips as I lunge forward, pulling my sword over my shoulder, it's intended target still unmoving, piercing eyes gazing into mine...

A family confrontation (Anette)

Her words struck deep. She knows how much that would get under my skin when we were growing up, so why would she greet me like that after thirteen years?

I barely recognize her. She has the same face under that helmet, but she is huge Adelle he has always been tall, but this is just scary. The silence is uneasy, with only slight movements making any sort of break from her gaze. My life up until this point has been about finding Adelle, and here she is raising her blade, preparing to strike me down in an instant. There is one side of me who wants to put down blades and catch up with my sister. However, the other side knows I could be killed at the first moment of approach. What can I do? Her sword is almost as big as I am, and she looks ready to use it. In fact she has just poised herself in preparation to strike.

She carries this sword, is outfitted in pristine armour, and she is glowing with class after so long. Yet no greeting to me...her sister, as she protects the life of somebody who has done wrong to this world many times. Is this what it means to be a Decille?

I raise my blade to my sister. I can't risk assuming she won't try to kill me. I simply can't make that mistake. She is now approaching, her eyes never looking away from mine. The hair over my eyes, sweat in my eyes and personal feelings don't exist at a time like this. Her expression changes from confidence to some form of confrontational as she began to speak, Her words meant a lot but not until I could afford emotion. Without assuring my voice, a monotonous return slipped from my lips.

“A Knight Decille would never abandon the person they vowed to protect”