Chapter Text
“Hey Alfia, what if we joined a familia too? What if it made us stronger?”
What if you remained silent?
A mismatched pair of eyes, grey and green, opened with a glare, holding back a prayer for one of the old stones overhead to end her ceaseless suffering. The prayer only held for the fear that a god might hear and mistake her sister for her. For even in its abandoned state, the church they had happened upon held its structure, and maybe structure was enough for a god or goddess to happen upon it.
“It’s possible right? Don’t you think?” Her sister continued her questioning, Alfia now feeling her twins breath brush against her left cheek, blue eyes staring at the corner of her grey.
“No. They wouldn’t want us,” she eventually replied.
“Oh…then that means…mother and father—“
“Meteria…let’s go outside,” Alfia heaved a tight breath, as she pushed herself up, the strain nearly drawing tears, “we’ll sit on the stairs, if were lucky a goddess will pass,” she huffed a sigh, upon finally sitting up, moments before a loose stone fell where her head had laid.
“You wish to live normally, and you are willing to work for it? Very well, I’ll accept you,” Leto had said, only needing several seconds, watching Alfia and Meteria move with great difficulty, to recognize the hopelessness that guided them.
They found themselves entering the Leto Familia within the week, a non-combat familia, obscure in its occupation, yet welcomed by the guild and loved by Orario citizens, often acting as guides for wealthy visitors or knowledgable advisors for subjects outside of the guilds purview. A familia that prided itself in knowing as much as it could, to nurture growth.
Even if the help they provided failed to bear fruit.
Or so Alfia had thought, until the goddess denied her beliefs with words and facts, “I may not be a goddess of combat, but my eyes are just as keen, if not more,” she had finished with a chuckle, as she handed the sisters their first statuses, “One might even say I have a sense for it, for even I could not say how I found myself within those parts, on such a dreary day at that. How my eyes settled on two fair haired girls, too frail to withstand a gust of wind. But I did.”
Alfia
Level 1
Strength: I0 | Endurance: I0 | Dexterity: I0 | Agility: I0 | Magic: I0
Magic
Satanas Verion
- Super Short Chant Attack Magic
- Sound Attributes
- Wide effect range
Meteria
Level 1
Strength: I0 | Endurance: I0 | Dexterity: I0 | Agility: I0 | Magic: I0
Magic
Trym Rant
- Barrier Magic
- Sound Attributes
Skill
Alme
- Allows the user to influence the direction of their fate
- Accumulating poor luck results in someone else, within close proximity, receiving their good luck
Enables access to Luck, when fortune is focused on oneself
“Are these good then?” Meteria asked, looking between their statuses, ignoring Alfia’s privacy, “will we get better now?”
“With time and effort, yes, I believe both of you can live regular lives, but it may be painful,” the goddess said carefully, as she glanced over the girls.
Words that held true, for Alfia, who found herself abed more often than she liked, resting from the most simple excursions, yet finding her wake hours more fulfilling than she had ever dreamed. As she got to know her new familia, as she got to know Orario for more than the small church her parents had left them in. Alfia found herself learning how natural it was to smile, having long since accepted that Meteria had taken the feature for herself.
And yet, even with her progress, strength stats rising, working from a bed to a supportive hand, and from a supportive hand to crutches, Alfia found that the progress was not enough. Neither for herself, nor for her sister, who often remained confined to a wheeled chair. Growth had brought on a sense of greed that Alfia feared would never be sated, especially as her strength stats neared two hundred, despite her legs’ continuous failure to work in unison.
A greed which brought her to the Dian Cecht Familia’s pharmacy, Tipra Sláíne.
“I want to see a doctor.”
And a greed that threw her off the edge she had teetered on since her birth.
“I’m sorry, your disease is untreatable.”
“How courteous,” Alfia broke the near silence, bring near silent steps to a halt, “however, I fail to understand why you’ve come alone. Was my presence not enough to warrant a force, or have you come to change sides? Neither option would bode well for you.”
In courteous fashion, near silent steps resumed their former pace, until the dark elven teen appeared before her, dressed in her usual fitted attire, more combat ready than most would assume, yet sporting an expression Alfia knew she had never seen before. Anger and disdain, rolled into a bitter amalgamation, one which seemed ready to kill. However, to Alfia’s eyes, those emotions were not centred on her.
“You’ve come quietly, as a means to say you’ve come in peace, yes,” her words received a soft nod, “then you may take a seat,” Alfia continued, returning her focus to the worn ceiling. Eyes locked directly above, in her old position, ever curious as to whether fate had set secondary plans to cut her life short, had she given up on her twin’s wishfulness.
The stiff mattress barely shifted when Alvari took a seat, prying back old memories of little girls and young ladies playing around, evading work and studies, until a suitable adult came around, dragging them back to their duties. An old comfortable noise, where her sister’s charming laughter was always the loudest.
I don’t like this silence…
“You have a request then?”
“Lady Alecto has taken Helena,” help me get her back, the unspoken words.
Coral and gold, she recalled those eyes, and the dreamy smile her sister had laid on the weeks old child. The child’s mother placing her in Meteria’s careful hands, granting her sister a task which set blue eyes alight up with determination, as if she were to join on their desert hunt.
“I see. Do neither of the siren’s knights care?” Alfia queried casually, “I’ve heard nothing of their movements,” she continued, only to stop when she felt a glaring pair of eyes, “Yes, I’ve known for years. She kept a small circle, and as it happened, I was within it. However, Lady Alecto—”
She watched the stone fall, awed by its precision, sure it would meet the point between her eyes, with its sharpest edge, yet also certain it would do no damage—“Prayer”—before it dissipated into dust, its structure breaking with a sharp noise, debris falling around her bed.
…you’re still here then…is she with you?
“Trym Rant. I’m surprised she showed it to you, she never liked the strain.”
Alvari turned her eyes to her then, anger gone, knowing her request had been answered, “She wanted me to protect you with it, because…”
…you hate being indebted to people, Alfia.
“On your feet,” the feminine tone was firmed with power, despite its softness.
“But I’m tired, everything hurts!” Meteria yelled back in anger, teary blue eyes looking up to brilliant gold, staring down with indifference, not caring that the girl had been half confined to a wheeled chair only two months prior.
“Meteria, did I ask? On your feet, or you will suffer greater pain, come tomorrow,” the dark elven woman replied, all the remorse she held for the girl long flung to the stale dungeon air.
Unable—unwilling— to assist, heaving deep breaths at her sister’s side, Alfia watched their tyrant at work, as she wiped her own tears from her eyes, praying that her sister would do the same before Hildr followed through with her threat. For if she head learn one thing since meeting the witch, it was that she took pleasure in keeping her promises, few ever being kind.
And as golden irises glowed with intent, Alfia knew that the witch had reached her limit, “Walk child, forget your pain, rest when you return to your bed,” the witch spoke enchantingly, and like a doll pulled on its strings, Meteria followed. Tears flowing from her eyes, as she stepped forward, expectant of the pain that would soon follow.
Alfia felt her spine shudder, as she felt the witches golden orbs on her, straightening her back as the woman studied her, a final check before one last order, “You will run home, bathe, eat, then get some rest.” Her eyes narrowed on Meteria, “Tomorrow you will suffer through the pain, I encourage you to take a walk, especially you Meteria. The following day I will heal you, and allow a days respite. On the third day, we will dive towards the fifth floor,” she ignored their widening eyes, “My lifetime may outlast yours by near three times, but I will not waste them playing mother as Lady Leto tried. You will grow at the pace I dictate, now go.”
Meteria took off first, taking a brisk pace, moving with practiced movements, even as tears rolled and adventures looked away, either used to the sight or fearing the eye of Orario’s most terrifying valkyrie. And Alfia, at her sister’s side, did her best to maintain sister’s pace, wary of the golden eyes at her back, watching her every step, as if hoping she would fall.
‘If you fall, I’ll trample you. Learn your limits and surpass them. Don’t waste my time.’
‘Yes, it is incurable, however, I can alleviate it…but not as they are now…’
Those words had been Hildr Ragnar’s first and last kindness to them, considering that not even a day later did they find themselves out of their home of two years, an act done with reluctance, out of necessity. “I’m sorry, but my familia does not enter the dungeon,” Leto had said regretfully, yet with finality.
Meteria had cried bitter tears, not wanting to leave their first true family, but unwilling to leave her blood, and Alfia had cried her own silent tears, tearing her sister away from her happiness. Then, ever slowly, on the heels of Hildr Ragnar, they were brought to Boeotia, home of the Hera Familia, a far cry from the old home Alfia was sure she would dream of, as she and Meteria doubled over, the moment they crossed the threshold, drawing a large selection of eyes.
“Yeesh, Göndul again?”
“You’re still using that name? She hates it.”
“Leave him, he’s been smitten since she broke his nose, he’ll do anything to get her attention.”
“Right…but they’re just eleven, shouldn’t she be holding back on them a little?”
“No, she shouldn’t,” their captain cut through, red hair fanning behind her, as she moved towards the sisters, throwing one over either shoulder, “Lady Hera has plans for them.”
‘…My magic will send them towards early graves if they lack the will to hold onto life. Especially this one,’ the silver haired dark elf looked down at Meteria, tears still shining her eyes, ‘They must be Level Two, at minimum.”
‘Very well, Hildr. However, you recommended them, so you shall train them. I won’t have my children waste their time on prospects,” Hera had said, opening her doors to them.
Words that only served to be half true, Alfia concluded, as she glanced towards Meteria, sitting comfortably in their goddess’ lap. Her sister, who had seemingly saved up all her luck, and wormed her way into the hearts of their new familia, had managed to exempt herself from the procedure, while securing her place within the familia. A feat that seemed to have pleased Hildr as well, as she looked over their statuses.
“…Yes, I agree, only Alfia should undergo it, however, Meteria, are you fine with this,” Hildr gave Meteria a warm glance, what felt like the first in a year, since granting them hope.
“Yes, Lady Hildr,” Meteria chirped, “all I’ve ever wanted was to walk around and run like everyone else, and now I can,” she looked up to the dark elf’s golden eyes, her smile dropping somewhat,”…I don’t want to face the monsters in the dungeon,” she finished, drawing several muffled chuckles. The greatest monster the sisters had ever seen, looming menacingly.
“Very well,” Hildr eventually concluded, looking towards Lady Hera, “I believe it’s fine to rank them up,” she nodded towards Hera, before looking to Alfia, “I will see you in three days.”
Alfia
Level 1
Strength: F387 | Endurance: I97 | Dexterity: E407 | Agility: D527 | Magic: S998
Magic
Satanas Verion
- Super Short Chant Attack Magic
- Sound Attributes
- Wide effect range
Skill
Gif Blessing
- Exponentially increases all stats when entering battle
- Greater susceptibility to abnormalities
Meteria
Level 1
Strength: F358 | Endurance: H128 | Dexterity: F308 | Agility: D518 | Magic: C608
Magic
Trym Rant
- Barrier Magic
- Sound Attributes
Skill
Alme
- Allows the user to influence the direction of their fate
- Accumulating poor luck results in someone else, within close proximity, receiving their good luck
Enables access to Luck, when fortune is focused on oneself