I never doubted Ba for saving me as a child. Yes, there are times I regret pulling away from my mother's embrace as the Scar was forming, but I can't blame him for pulling me from that darkness. I still don't know what truly lies within the Scar, but as a child, I remember hearing the screams of people left behind as it consumed the land, creating the insurmountable barrier that now divides all who live in Astrea.
Even now, I'm anxious about what's happening on the other side of the map, but I'm powerless to know. All I can do is pray, hoping my mother is safe and well.
It's been twelve years since I came to live in Sunnyvale with Ba and his family. Sunnyvale is a region under the Sire Palace, known for its fertile farmland. This small village is home mostly to hunters, farmers, and herders. Honestly, Little Burg is far larger and grander. It's no wonder so many people here get hurt whenever the Ashtons raid, stealing livestock and crops.
Ba is a hunter who ventures as far as Crimson Lake to bring back food for our table. He's done this work since Val, Valore, and I were children. He doesn't have his own field to plant vegetables or fruit to sell in Little Burg and improve their lot.
But Ba is the type who prefers adventure outside Sunnyvale to fighting over territory on the little land we still hold. So, he lost most of his property, and now only has a small plot nearly overrun by the expanding farms of our neighbors.
As he told Val, he has always treated me like his own daughter. He defends me from his wife—when she was alive—and his two children, who never miss a chance to scorn me. I usually try not to let their words get to me, especially when I know I'm not at fault. But sometimes, the hand fate deals me in this house is a difficult one.
Truthfully, when Ba is away on his hunts—sometimes for days, searching for food to eat or sell for a little coin—arguments between the siblings inevitably erupt, especially if I become the topic.
They despise me. I feel it. Whenever carriages arrive to fetch them, they sometimes try to hide me away in my room. That's why Valore insisted I dress decently today—so the soldiers picking them up wouldn't talk or question them about me.
They can't hide me now that Ba is home. He hates when they do that.
I sat on the edge of my bedroll. My cot was listing badly, but I endured it. It was all I had in this room, which was otherwise crammed with trunks of Val's things, loot he'd brought back from the City of Fire months ago. I didn't know what was in them—they were too heavy to move when I tried to clean—and Val forbade me from opening them. He said my room was just a storage closet anyway.
Ironically, his room and Valore's looked more like display halls—painted walls, polished floors, sparse and clean. Meanwhile, my "closet" was on the verge of spitting me out along with the junk.
I'd been too diligent cleaning their spaces. My own room, I could barely manage.
The door opened, and Ba stepped in, a smile on his face. I was drying my hair with a towel, having just washed up after the morning's chores. As Valore instructed, I'd put on my nicest dress—a faded yellow one I kept under the bed for rare occasions. It was wearing thin, the color washing out from disuse.
Ba entered, hiding something behind his back, his grin hinting at a surprise. His smile alone seemed to brighten the dim room.
"Meow."
I looked past him and couldn't help but smile. "You can bring it out, Ba. That meow gave it away."
He sometimes teased me before giving me little gifts. Last year, it was a necklace he'd found by Crimson Lake, ownerless, he said. Valore had turned her nose up at it—she wanted new jewelry, not found trinkets—so it came to me. I often refused Ba's gifts, not wanting to fuel the twins' resentment, but he never took no for an answer. The necklace was under my bed now, too beautiful for my simple life.
Ba sighed in mock disappointment. "I was going to surprise you with this Maine Coon I rescued in the forest early this morning," he said, revealing a fluffy, sizable cat. I hadn't seen it clearly behind him. "But this chatterbox ruined it." He sat beside me and handed me the cat.
"You didn't hurt it, hiding it like that, did you?" I asked, laughing softly. He chuckled. I took the cat, stroking its head gently. It meowed and nuzzled my hand, claiming me instantly. "She's beautiful, Ba."
He nodded. "That's why I brought her home. She was in a bad way—her paw was trapped in a rock crevice. She could barely walk."
I examined the cat, finding the scraped and bruised paw Ba mentioned. She yelped when I touched it accidentally but didn't scratch or struggle.
"Are you sure no one's looking for her, Ba?" I asked. Last time, a rabbit he'd found had an owner right here in Sunnyvale. "I don't want you getting into trouble."
Ba smiled. "I'm sure this time, Sol. Look how long she must have been out there, and in this condition. She needs care. If an owner comes forward, we'll return her. No fuss."
I nodded, returning his smile. "I'll give her to Valore later. They haven't left yet. I don't want to go to their rooms after what happened… I doubt they've forgiven me."
"Who said she's for Valore?" Ba asked, scratching the cat's chin. The cat, now purring, settled in my lap. "She's for you. You look after her. You know your siblings would just be annoyed by a pet. They have very specific tastes."
"But I can't accept this, Ba," I said, stopping when I saw his expression darken. "I mean… you've given me so much already. Val and Valore will just use it against you. I don't want to cause more strife between you."
He sighed, withdrawing his hand from the now-dozing cat. He took my hands in his, his eyes kind but serious. "Sol, I promised to protect you until I can return you to the Astrea Kingdom. This is a small thing I can do. A way to try and make up for my part in what happened… when Astrea fractured because of people like us. Because of our discord, you were separated from your family."
I shook my head. "My mother would have forgiven you by now, Ba. Don't worry about me. Worry about your real children. I can handle whatever they dish out. If they want a servant, that's fine. What matters is that the three of you stay together."
I wanted to reassure him. My heart ached for Ba, caught between his children's hatred and his own sense of duty. Val and Valore thought he always took my side.
I understood Ba's need to protect me, to atone for taking me from the Scar. I didn't blame him. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be alive. I owe him my life.
All he wanted was peace in this house. I was willing to take the first step, to swallow any pride, to do whatever they asked if it meant calm for him and reconciliation for their family.
"You know," Ba said softly, "you have the same good heart as the ruler of the Astrea Kingdom."
I froze. I remembered my mother's words during my self-defense lessons long ago. I looked away, but Ba gently turned my face back to his.
"Why the sudden change, Sol?" he asked.
"Mother… she told me she stopped trusting those around her after Astrea split," I whispered. "Her last act of trust led to the tragedy. And that was my fault. I broke her trust. I caused our separation."
Ba squeezed my shoulder. "Listen to me, Sol. You carry no sin for what happened twelve years ago. It wasn't just your fault. It was everyone's. The Scar was born from collective discord, from the failure of the groups to unite."
"But the creatures within the Scar… they only appeared because I tried to put the stone back together."
He smiled sadly. "Sol, listen to your heart. You didn't act out of malice. You did what you thought was right." He looked toward the window. "People being people, our world became broken. But I believe everything can be restored when the Goddess of the Sun retur—"
His words were cut off by shouting from outside the house. I hugged him tightly, overwhelmed by the complicated hope his words stirred.
"Sounds like the carriage for Val and Valore is here," I said, pulling away. "Come on, let's see them off."
Ba shook his head. "My children might have more harsh words for me. You know how they are. Besides, I defended you. Their anger extends to me now."
I chuckled, taking his hand. I placed the sleeping Maine Coon carefully on my pillow and stood. "Come on, Ba. They may hate me, but you're still their father. No child can truly forsake that."
He finally smiled and stood. "You know, you're the one who always pushes me toward these things—"
"Because that's what family does," I said. "Now, am I included in that 'family'? Anyway, let's go. We should at least wish them well so they have a proper send-off to the general's party."