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Andrea had never pictured herself as a mother. Andrea was War, and War was no place for children. Children were purity and innocence...War brutalized and destroyed such things. Even she -someone who believed in honor and had a strict list of morals- had killed children in her time. She regretted it of course. Those faces haunted her every night she slept, their tears like dagger points against her sanity.
But in War such things were common place. For example, she'd witnessed men toss babies into the air so that they landed on the points of their swords. She saw children torn from the arms of their mothers, and slaughtered. Andrea more than any other person understood that War transformed you into something you were not. She did not blame the soldiers for these monstrosities. War was the great release; it allowed the churning darkness inside of every heart to leap forth...breaking the carefully constructed bonds of humanity and letting the real beasts free to roam.
It was because of this that she did not see herself as a mother. Where in the warrior that she was, would she find the need to nurture and care?
Fate as always had other plans.
First came her own daughter. Small and so fragile at birth that for days Andrea refused to so much as touch her.
You have to hold her, the other urged. You must.
"No," she'd cried "I'll break her. She'll shatter in my hands."
But she hadn't broken into pieces, and Andrea was surprised to feel the stirrings of something warm inside of herself. There was another side to War it seemed, the side that was fraught with emotion. The soldier that stepped in to save a strange child, the men who gathered to protect homes that were not theirs. For the first time Andrea saw the heart in War.
And she wondered how she'd been so blind for all these years.
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In time, Fate decreed that more children would come. None of which were from her own body. Andrea took in the children of her friends. These women were the real mothers. Love and nurturing were in their DNA. And yet they founds themselves facing Death and to save their children they had to give them away.
I was one of those children. My mother; Life was faced with a war that was tearing our home apart. With no where else to go she sent my brother and I to live with Andrea. At the time I was just a baby but I welcomed the chance to be with other kids my own age. And it didn't frighten me that Andrea could fly off into rages so powerful the whole castle shook with her fury. Magic and power seemed to roll off of her whether she was angry or joyful...spilling over us all.
I am grateful to this day for what she's done for us. Not only did she raise us but she studied us and learned our personalities and our movements. In time...she'd assigned each of us a skill and taught us how to master them. She was not always nurturing and training was her most frequent solution to most problems. But there have been time when the things she taught us have saved our lives.
For her daughter she taught magic. Battle magic and spells, training Sora in how to use her natural abilities to fight.
For Matt, her adoptive son, she taught strength. Making him an expert in hand to hand combat, using techniques that gave him speed and allowed him to use his sheer bulk and muscle to an advantage.
For T.k, her second adopted son, she taught honor and the ways of the knights. His fighting skills were only matched by his mercy.
For my brother Ty, she taught cunning and leadership. Ty could be hardheaded and rash but because of her he knows when to step forward and what to do when he does. Though rare, his leadership when he uses it has never steered us wrong.
For me, she taught the ways of the edge. Swords, knives, anything with a blade. With my grace and speed I could zip in and out before my opponent felt the sting of my blade. It is an extension of my arm...so connected I sometimes feel naked without it.
For Mimi, her charge, she trained in the ways of the hunt. Mimi was at home in nature and she blends in with trees and flower because of her mother's powers and her own earth affinity. But with Andrea's help she honed the skills of camouflage and surprises. A mistress of bow and arrow she can take down a man from a distance that would put Robin Hood to shame.
And for all of use she trained in guns and explosives, teaching us how to take apart and pieces together weapons.
We owe a lot to her. And though now her mind is only half of what it used to be. We still scramble like frightened chickens the moment she yells for attention.
 Rapta · Tue Nov 29, 2011 @ 08:56am · 0 Comments |
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