❛broken wings :: bttp❜ ❧ mikhail & sonja
@violinsnotheanswer ; -- Occurs three years ago, late April.
: ♫ — Spring.
The time of the year that she looked forward to time and time again. Though this year that wasn’t the case. Truth to be told, she dreaded it. Every single day was inching ever closer to her birthday. The eighteenth one. And the priestesses were set on making her the head priestess as her mother was. Due to her untimely death, it was her job to take up the mantle… For whatever reason. They had built her up to be this amazing human being, yet in their eyes she was nothing more than dirt on their shoe. At least, it felt like that. She never did accomplish much, in their eyes.
But sometimes, that desire came out. The desire to leave. To escape, to find out what it was like to live outside the walls of home- of her island. But... How could she ever leave home? The one thing that connected her to her parents? And she had so many obligations here. She couldn't yield to something so distracting like that. But every day... Yelling, hitting, starving… It was nothing out of the ordinary for the young woman. Always doing something wrong in their eyes. It was terrible, the way they treated her. They controlled her. Yet she still stayed, despite the harsh treatment. Maybe it was because she knew about the gravity of her leaving.
Maybe it was to prove that she was capable of doing something right.
Her thoughts travelled around, eventually reaching to the outside. She followed, unseen as a ghost, the priestesses unsuspecting. Feeling her bare feet on the grass, she walked along the forests of this mountain, wondering what exactly she would find today. And as she took in the breeze and everything that was around her… She heard an interesting pitch coming from her right side. A different sort of timbre she was used to- the choruses of priestesses never did provide much difference in music. Set to ancient texts, it wasn’t pleasing to the ear at all. But this was… different. New. Sonja liked different.
And so her feet took her there. To the unknown- the sounds of this newfound instrument intriguing her. It didn’t sound like a harpsichord at all. In a clearing, she found a man, poised and ready to play what he was holding.
