Diving Into An Icy Lake (3)
Taking a few deep breaths, Minerva looked at the man in front of her who was sitting on a chair of bones looking straight at her as if he was peering into her soul.
"Like the devil from myths, his eyes allow him to pierce through the defenses of any and discover their weakness. All the while luring one in with their gravitas and sweet words, although in this case its his abrasive and uncaring manner that is most pleasing" thought Minerva as she steeled herself to reveal that which she told no other.
"As you know, my family is a military family that has produced many a high-ranking persons throughout our existence. While we do not strictly have a title of nobility, we were always recognized in this region for our family's contributions. With my generation, however, no son was born to be trained to upkeep the tradition. My mother simply could not bear a son and with my family being extremely traditional my father refused to take a second wife or even adopt an outsider. This still caused a lot of friction in the family, especially between my parents which inevitably spilled forth and burned even me as a young child."
----
Running through the halls of a spacious manor was a cute young girl with short black hair and eyes, with rosy cheeks ripe for pinching as they still contained some baby fat. She was clothed rather modestly, at least when compared with the orderly but still expensive looking halls that she roamed through but to the child this mattered not.
"What should I play with today…" was all that went through the child's mind, as she went from room to room looking for something interesting.
Eventually she found herself at the foot of a large double door, the master bedroom that her two parents called their own.
"Mommy…pappy" muttered the child in a sad tone, as she looked at the door taking a step forward but ultimately choosing to retreat.
It was at this moment, however, that the doors were thrown open with such force that they smashed against the walls upon opening fully. Scaring the child who jumped in fright, but what followed next brought far more dread to her than any door could.
"You useless wench, enough of your pointless ramblings and begone. You are lucky that I still take my vows to my ancestors seriously, lest you would be a harlot on the street begging men to pay you in return for spreading your legs" yelled a stern and enraged voice, the father of the young child.
Out walked a middle-aged woman, tears flowing down her face and two red marks on each of her cheeks in the shape of a palm. Despite her age her beauty was still obvious to any who laid eyes on her, yet her face was twisted by hatred, anger and fear which did no favors to such beauty.
Upon spotting the child that was only a short distance from the opening of the doors, the woman's face twisted in fury and hatred all aimed at the helpless child that was frozen from shock.
"You…you DARE to show your face in front of me? Why did I have to give birth to YOU, robbing me of my future…my happiness…my EVERYTHING. If only I could wish you to be unborn, replaced by a more useful child. Oh, what a happy day that would be!" cried the woman in a shrill voice, pushing past the child causing her to fall to the ground.
The child tried to speak, perhaps to defend herself from accusations she could not possibly understand, but all that came out was tears and cries which only made the woman's rage burn hotter.
"Mommy I…" began the child.
Turning around on one foot, the woman faced the child with bloodlust clear in her eyes, raising a hand she smacked the child who had just struggled to stand once more to the ground with the full force of an adult.
"Do not call me that, demon spawn. Why have I even let you live for so long" said the woman in a cold voice, drawing a blade from her sleeve and aiming for the child's throat.
The child was helpless to do anything other than struggle to try and stand, having been concussed by the strike which brought her to the ground.
Looking up just in time to see the blade that would have end her life graze her neck…her head was empty except with confusion and regret.
A flash of light startled both the mother and child, emanating from the room where the mother had come from. The knife was cut into pieces by such a light, while a man with a grim face walked out of the room and said without any emotion in his voice:
"Calm yourself shrew, the child still has its uses. So long as she has a use you may not touch her…"
The man continued walking, right past the woman and child, never sparing so much as a glance towards either of them.
The woman shook in rage, but fear soon overtook her fury as she threw the now useless knife to the ground and stomped away. Not before glaring once more at the child of course, even spitting on her face and cursing her name.
"Minerva, what a wasted name for trash like you."
Now left alone in the hall, the child…no, the young Minerva sat on the ground badly hurt physically but worse she was destroyed completely mentally.
For the rest of the night, not one-person paid attention to the crying wails of distress that rang out through the halls.
---
"That does not sound like the most pleasant of households, but continue on. The canvas that is your life is starting to take shape at last" ordered Cyrus, breaking Minerva from her thoughts.
Pulled back to reality, Minerva rubbed her hands that had been gripping the sides of the metal chair with her maximum strength and instead placed them on her lap. Collecting herself, she began once more:
"The older I got the worse the abuse got, growing from verbal and small physical incidents to major physical altercations where it was not uncommon for me to suffer a broken bone or two from being shoved to the ground by my mother or kicked aside by my father. When I was 10 everything changed though, as I had met Imran at this point and being the astute merchant he was being raised to be he came bearing gifts: a sabre and scabbard. While me and Imran quickly grew close, me being drawn to something in my life that was not suffering and him being urged to form connections from a young age, everything was much better for me despite the treatment when our play was over. Out of a childish desire to show off to my new friend I stole some training manuals for the weapon in secret, training relentlessly every second I could find in secret. I went through manual after manual, learning the fighting style of the sabre as easily as breathing. Such a secret did not last long, however, and with it coming to light everything changed…"
----
A young girl stood in a small thicket behind her expansive home, with warm colors and carefully tended flowers in the distance…but the house was anything but warm for the girl.
Mimicking the moves that she read from the many manuals that were sprawled out on the ground around her feet, she moved her sabre as directed with an astonishingly high rate of accuracy.
She continued with the training for hours, her movements grower sharper and more accurate with each passing hour.
Ignoring the sweat that poured from her brow and even the sores on her hands that had begun to crack and bleed, the young girl continued her practice without end.
Her sorrow, her pain and her suffering mixed with her desire to meet the expectations of the only light in her otherwise grim and dark existence which turned into a fuel that kept her going until she would eventually collapse. Just like the last time, and the several dozen times before that.
Just as exhaustion finally defeated her, she enacted one last move with all her might and will combined. The blade was her emotions personified, brought to life in one masterful stroke of the sword that would surely awe anyone who witnessed it.
Falling to the ground, her world returning to darkness once more as she passed out from exhaustion, an aged voice that radiated with power and authority was heard in the background.
"So, my child…you have more use than even I had initially thought. Good, good. I will sharpen you well."
---
At this point a rare sorrowful expression was present on Minerva's face, her eyes even watering slightly but she quickly controlled herself and continued once more.
"I was looked at for the first time by my father, who quickly took me under his wing and trained me personally. Not only that but he made sure I ate the highest quality food, that I was clothed properly, sleeping properly, and even gave me books to read as entertainment without even me having to ask. The best healers he could find were also arranged for me, which I soon discovered how desperately I needed them so. The training was hellish, my father held nothing back despite his advanced age and skill…"