#tulja

[voidwardenalex]

I just really like skyrim sometimes

[notsoevilpepsi]

100 Themes Writing Challenge

“Hello again, child.”

Eiren rose from where she’d found herself sitting, narrowing her eyes. “You don’t talk to me for three years and now you come back and talk to me like you never left? I really thought you knew me better than that, Tulja.”

With a sigh, Tulja motioned to a large tree not too far away. “Walk with me, Eiren; let me explain.”

“It had better be a damn good explanation, Tulja.” Eiren started after the old woman, moving to pull her hood up and stopping in her tracks when there was nothing there to grab. Looking down at her clothes, she was shocked to see the white short-sleeved pheasant blouse and simple leather black pants tucked into her boots. Having spent the past nine years in nothing but dark colors, the shock of white was . . . well, a shock.

“We don’t have the time for you to gawk at your clothing, child.” She motioned for the teen to keep walking, sighing again and grabbing the girl’s wrist when she didn’t. “I’ve got a time limit and we can’t be wasting a moment of it on what you’re wearing.”

When they finally reached the tree, Tulja gestured for Eiren to sit before moving to take her hands. “Shall we start this as we always have?”

“Do we have the time?”

She nodded, closing her eyes and went through the motions she knew so well. “You’ve built a new layer, Eiren.”

“The only person that managed to break what was there abandoned me for no reason. I had to build a new layer to keep it from happening again.”

Tulja sighed, lowering their hands but not releasing them. “Let me explain myself, child.”

“I’m not a child anymore, Tulja. I’m eighteen in less than a year.”

“You’re still young, much younger than I am.”

Shaking her head, Eiren nodded for her to talk. “I’m listening. If we’ve got a time limit, I’d like to be able to hear whatever it is you have to say.”

“Right.” Tulja glanced down at their hands, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You know I’d always do what I thought was best for you, child. If I thought that it would have been less painful for it to have been drawn out, I wouldn’t have stopped coming.” She took a deep breath, forcing herself to keep her gaze on the younger girl’s. “I knew I was dying—as old as I am, it’s a no-brainer, really—I just didn’t know when it would happen.”

When Eiren was silent, she merely squeezed the girl’s hand in what might’ve been thanks, or a sort of permission to speak.

“I know now that halting all communication like that was the wrong decision, and if I could do it over, I would. I should have known just how it would affect you, especially with how much you’d been through before I came along, but I didn’t and I didn’t even think about it. I just knew that in my own experience, being cut off like that was always less painful than drawing it out.”

Biting her lower lip, Eiren squeezed both of Tulja’s hands. “If you’d just told me before disappearing like that, you would have been right. If you’d just told me that you were dying and then not shown up next time I went looking, I would have understood. But you acted like nothing was different. As if you’d be seeing me in a week’s time or so and then you never showed. That’s what upset me.”

Tulja nodded, raising their hands to press dry lips to the back of Eiren’s. “I know, and I’m sorry.” She glanced over Eiren’s shoulder before releasing a sigh. “It seems we’re out of time child. Te iubesc, unul mic.” She stood up and walked around the teenager on the ground.

Before Eiren could turn to see where Tulja was going,

She sat up on her bedroll and, realizing the entire thing had been a dream, put her hand over her mouth to quiet the strangled sobs making their way out of her chest and up her throat.

“I love you, too, Tulja.”

[notsoevilpepsi]

100 Themes Writing Challenge

Okay, so she’s never had a boyfriend.

She’s never had a best friend.

Her family might as well have not existed.

Where was she to direct whatever love she had? Who was to give her the love she needed, the love she craved?

Some of it could have gone to and come from Tulja. The woman had saved her life more times than either of them could count—whether the old woman knew it or not. She deserved love, and Eiren was sure she received plenty of it.

Outside of that, though, there wasn't really anyone to give her love to. So what didn't go to Tulja was locked away, stored deep inside. Maybe it was waiting for somebody, or maybe it was prepared to stay buried deep forever. Whatever it was, some of it managed to get free when she was introduced to the group.

Some of it went to little Lyra. Little secretive Lyra that rarely spoke. Only three years younger than herself, and looking like she needed all the love she could get. Eiren could feel it heading toward the younger girl, but refused to acknowledge it.

Some went to Ashirah. The woman didn't seem to be in any shortage of the stuff, but she also seemed to give hers away so freely. Again, she could feel it heading toward the woman, but she didn't acknowledge it.

Some went to Yen. The dragon-turned-human. She was much like Tulja—but so very different at the same time. She couldn't say what it was, but she let herself acknowledge the bit headed that way, but kept it small. She wanted to be able to walk away intact if it all went to shit.

Everyone in the group got a little bit, even if they didn't realize it—even if she didn't acknowledge it. 

Okay, Ashirah, Lyra, and Yen are characters created by some fellow RP-ers--and I can't remember if I actually got permission to use Yen. I'm sorry! "The group" is referring to all our characters together--but I've mentioned it before, so you've probably figured that out by now. 

[notsoevilpepsi]

100 Themes Writing Challenge

“It’s not worth it, child.”

“Dammit. Don’t do that, Tulja!”

The old woman cackled, sitting next to the young girl. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re thinking about this Konja so negatively?”

Eiren smirked, turning to face her. “You know our routine. First you try to read me, then we chat.”

Taking the child’s hands into her own, Tulja closed her eyes and concentrated. Though this was mostly just routine by now, she never half-assed it. She knew the Tse girl’s walls were still high, but they were also chipped now. She knew that soon she would have to stop meeting with the girl—sudden would be best. It would always hurt less than drawing out what the girl was sure to think of as abandonment. But for now, she was going to revel in their routine.

“Nothing, Eiren. Unbreakable as ever.”

Eiren shook her head, moving so she could lean against her. This, too, had become something of a routine. The child didn’t like physical contact, would flinch away from most hands that came her way, but she would lean against Tulja, willingly put her hands into the old woman’s. “You’re getting through them, just not in the way you’re used to.”

“You have wisdom beyond your years, child. Now tell me about this Konja.”

“He’s a bastard.” Feeling Tulja shake slightly with chuckles, she finally cracked a real smile. “So, I left his . . . whatever the hell he was calling that, what, a year and a half ago now?” She waited for Tulja’s hum of affirmation before continuing. “He’s back on me again, trying to get me to come back. I’m not going back, I told him, but now he’s not going to take no as an answer.”

“How old is this boy?”

Eiren shrugged. “Around fifteen now, I imagine. He’s not that much younger than Coryn.”

“Don’t worry about him, child. No need for violence in the name of vengeance here. I’ll take care of him.” Usually this was where Eiren would object; say she didn’t need someone else to take care of her problems. But if this Konja was bothering the girl as much as Tulja suspected, Eiren wouldn’t say anything like that.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Eiren let herself relax a little against the older woman. “Thank you.” It barely qualified as a whisper, but Tulja still heard it—her ears were just fine, thank you very much—and indulged herself by wrapping her arm around the child’s shoulders and squeezing lightly. 

[notsoevilpepsi]

100 Themes Writing Challenge

She’s lived an eternity, and she’s never encountered a child like this before.

At only ten, the Tse girl is remarkably closed off—she’s clearly been hurt before, and badly.

She can’t get a read on the girl; her walls are impenetrable. When she says this, however, the retort is quick and sharp.

The child is right. Within the next few minutes, Tulja is enthralled in a halting, stammered story about years of living in a household that constantly blurred the lines of abuse and neglect. Between the bruises the girl received almost daily up to the scar and permanent blindness of her right eye, it’s clear to see why the girl has walls so tall.

It becomes a thing. Tulja will move on, recount others’ past events and say what is in store for them. And when she and Eiren meet again they will speak, catch up with each other’s lives or recount their own past experiences.

She regrets losing touch with the scarred child. After four years of knowing someone is out there to confide in, it is strange to not go looking for those too high walls.

But it’s for the best. She is dying, and it is best not to draw it out for the youngling.

Yes, she has lived an eternity, and Eiren Tse is the only one of her kind.

[notsoevilpepsi]

100 Themes Writing Challenge

“Your walls are high, child. Why?”

She started, turning to the old crone that’d come up on her blind side. “I’m sorry?”

Grinning wickedly, the woman sat down beside her carefully. “I’m a psychic, of sorts. I’m very good at reading people, breaking through their walls and getting to know them that way.”

“That’s kind of . . . invasive, isn’t it?”

The woman shrugged. “You do it all the time, to get to know your adversaries and to see who is worth stealing from.” Seeing the girl bristle at the implication of an insult, she made a placating gesture with her gnarled hands. “Now, now, child. No insult was meant.”

“What were you talking about, ‘my walls are high’?”

She motioned for the girl to sit in front of her, pursing her lips when ignored. “Child,” she barked, “Pay attention to your elders.”

The girl started again, her head turning—showing the woman why she’d been ignored. The girl had a scar beneath her right eye, and the eye itself was somewhat disfigured. The youngling was blind. This was confirmed when she flushed slightly.

“Sorry. Incident a few years ago left me blind in this eye, can’t see a thing.”

“My mistake, child. Come, sit facing me.” The woman leaned forward and patted the packed dirt ground where she wanted the child to sit. “Now give me your hands.” When she had the dark-haired girls hands in hers, she cocked her head. “What is your name?”

In turn, the child cocked an eyebrow. “Tell me yours I’ll tell you mine.”

The woman cackled, nodding. “You’re a bright one. My name is Tulja.”

“Eiren.”

Tulja’s eyes widened slightly. She’d heard of this child. A town she’d been in not long ago had been in a panic—dulled, but obviously still there. Two years ago, a child by the name of Eiren Tse had gone missing. The description she’d been given by the oddly impassive family was that of short stature, dark hair, and light eyes. The child in front of her fit the description to the letter. Even the blind eye was blue—more blue than her good eye, even. “You’re the Tse girl,” she murmured.

Eiren took her hands from Tulja’s, her own eyes widening as she slid backwards. “How do you know of my family?” Her voice was angry, but also fearful. Just what had happened to her?

“I was in that town not two moons ago. Your family was looking for you.” Tulja would not hesitate to admit that she was shocked at the sneer taking over the girl’s features.

“So much for knowing how to read people. My family is who blinded me! They don’t care that I’m gone—they’re glad to be rid of me!”

That would explain their being so impassive . . . “I’m sorry to have upset you, child. Please, come closer. There’s a cart and horse headed straight for you.”

Eiren’s head tilted, listening for a second before sliding closer to the old woman. “I’m going to act like you never mentioned the Tse family to me,” she said, putting her hands back into Tulja’s. “But if you go to them and say a word about me, I won’t hesitate.” She didn’t say what she wouldn’t hesitate to do, but Tulja’s imagination was plenty vivid enough to conjure up all the different consequences she could face.

“Your walls are high. And heavy. I can’t get through them.” Tulja shook her head, releasing the child’s hands. “They’re unbreakable, child.”

Eiren shook her head, rising and offering a hand to help the woman. “Nothing is unbreakable. It just takes the right kind of pressure.”