Because they never fought for me.
Da did.
And that is all that matters.
I walk into the living room of our house where my da, Fintan, keeps his foot tapping restless to the wall, his arm folded and his gaze focused on the clock.
“Are you ready?” He lets out a growl as his gaze goes towards my sweatshirt.
“Mmm,” I murmur in confirmation that I am indeed late. Our spar training started 5 minutes ago, but that book devoured meand I just couldn’t stop reading. A sigh rolls over his lips, his fingers rubbing his temples.
“I know, Goldie. I want to do other things as well. I want for you to be able to do other things too,” he grumbles, giving me the usual talk.
“15 minutes.”
I give him a smile and a thumbs up.
“You have your dagger on you?” he asks, lifting his brow in question, doubting my sanity. I bite my lip and swallow the answer.
“Right?” he asks, his voice harder, his gaze burning at mine, forcing me to look at him. He sounds hard, but all I see is fear when I look into his eyes.
“I will be fine.” I shrug. “I have my powers, right?” A light ball appears above my hand, confirming my story. He tries to lift the corners of his mouth, but I watch his pupils grow. Guilt trembles up.
“I know, I know,” he mumbles. “I just don’t want anything happening to you.” Before I can answer that, the truth comes out again and he starts rattling exactly like I always do. “I don’t want to lose you the way I lost Mirea. I can’t lose you that way. You can’t lose control like she did. I will never forgive myself,” he whispers, frozen to the spot, his eyes meeting the ground. I know the memories of his daughter flash by, know the pain I caused. He stands stiffly as he puts his hands in his pockets and at once the sweet, big, tattooed man doesn’t look so badass anymore.
“I am sorry,” I whisper. I say it because I am sorry.
I am sorry for the burden I am sometimes. We talked about it, and he tried to make sure I know I am not, but sometimes I feel like a weight on his shoulders. Even worse when he stresses about me losing control. I want to show the man I won’t let ithappen, but I don’t know how. I am not even sure I can fully trust myself.
I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. I love him with all I have, he saved me. I need to be careful with what I say next.
“I know, Da. It won’t happen, okay? I will carry my dagger on my leg from now on.” I swallow the lump in my throat away and blink my eyes at him.
“I will meet you in the sparring gym in 15 minutes.”
I dart out of the room, race up the stairs, and head straight for my bedroom. I try to get as far away from Da as possible. The last thing I want is to hurt anyone, especially him. He is the one good thing I have. I flop on my two-person mattress and fall on my back, looking through our glass roof at the stars. They shine beautifully tonight. Their light warms my room, the wood structure of my room seems to color brighter, and all my twenty plants look healthier than ever. I am much of a plant and book freak, but I accepted it. I love to take care of them and watch them grow. Da must have turned crazy at the beginning of my new hobby, because I kept bringing plants into the house and they kept dying. They had such an awful smell. I giggle to myself at the old thought. My gaze wanders off, my eyes glaring through the big window. I have a beautiful view from here. I can see the biggest mountain. Our house stands in a forest in the valley of the mountains called Koteld. The mountains are magical. With high peaks they look intimidating. We live on the edge of the mountains, and this place looks brighter than any other place you have ever seen before. The valley is covered in green grass. Everybody always imagines the grass is greener on the other side, but I am pretty sure that would not be possible. Flowers cover the valley and butterflies fly everywhere. Close to our house is a big waterfall where animals drink water early in the morning. It is actually a really beautiful place to live. Our houseis cozy and warm and the nature surrounding the house is breathtaking. The house is made of stones combined with wood and a thatched roof. We have a pretty garden full of flowers and plants that climb up the walls. I pick some flowers for Da now and then. It is like our little tradition. My way of showing appreciation to him. The inside of our home is just as pretty. With windows everywhere, a glass roof, and my power to control the sun, our house is a bundle of warmth and light. It isn’t that big, but the windows make it look the opposite way. We have a lot of wooden details and a big open entrance room with an open staircase which leads to my reading area and my bedroom. It is so full of books it almost looks like a library. They say that if you have over a thousand books you are allowed to call it one, but I tried counting once and lost count at eight hundred. Da keeps bringing me books. I asked him once where he got them from. He just always murmured something about big libraries spread across the continent before changing the subject.
It makes me happy. Books are the reason I am who I am.
Downstairs we have the kitchen, living room, dining room, Fintan’s bedroom and training room.
Under other circumstances, this would be my dream house and probably not mine only.
I open my eyes, and within a split second I realize that the time that I come to agreement with Da, must have already passed. I look at my clock. Fuck. I only have two more minutes. I jump up, throw my sweater off and lift myself into my sparring clothes, making sure I don’t forget to attach an extra dagger to my leg.
I let out a sigh and slow down my pace before I push the door of our own sparring room open. Da built it for me the day he took me in. Da looks at me with funny eyes, his hand covering his mouth, while shaking his head from left to right. A small laugh escapes me as I watch him chuckle.
“It’s always the same with you, isn’t it, little dreamer of mine?” He chuckles. He is kind of right. I do lose track of time often because I get distracted by my own mind.
“Maybe, but I’m here now,” I say, smiling teasingly, distracting him from my real plan. I dive forward, taking my dagger out of my leg belt as a threat. He knows what I’m doing. He is the one who trained me all these years. He carried me away when I was a 2-year-old toddler and he never let me out of his sight again. I was scared at first, which makes pretty much sense. Every young child would be scared when she sees her parents walk away while being picked up by a fierce, strange, and strong man. An image of their sad faces washes by, but I shake it off, trying to picture my da in front of me again.
Gladly, I know now that he will never hurt me. He took care of me when no one else would. He knows me in and out. He knows a lot of my moves, but I want to prove that I’m capable; capable of fighting, and being independent. Capable of surviving these goddamn trials without using my powers if needed.
He tries to hit me in the liver, but I duck on time. I step forward and sweep his leg which causes the dark-skinned man to fall backwards. I take my changes and dive forward. He doesn’t give up that easily. He knows my strengths and weaknesses and will never take it easy on me. He jabs his elbow in my gut, but I don’t let go, not this time. I take my dagger out of my belt and press it against his throat.
“You done?” I ask, sharpening my eyes, with a grin on my face.
“Not that easy, Goldie,” he breathes.
