Shishigou sat bedside, nearly off his chair. Elbows pressed into the giant wrinkles of the puffy polka dot comforter. He was still dressed from work. The lab coat spilled off the chair. The coat’s pockets were stuffed with flowers, both dried and fresh. He looked more of a botanist than a scholar of necromancy. He liked to think ‘Junior Professor’ with all the classes he’s spoken for as a guest, but mayhaps one day, when his thesis was complete. Until then, he only had one student to worry about.
And that one seemed to be nodding off during his lecture.
Shishigou’s voice quieted. Within his hands he twisted dried flowers and vines together to form a circlet. Others in various sizes decorated the bed. Today’s lesson had been a simple: bringing flowers ‘back to life’. The actual feat was impossible, he noted-- the balance of energy required to give vitality to something ‘dead’ would never be able to replicate the soul. However, flowers were a fun an easy tool to practice this beginner’s curse. For a guy like him, the spell was no issue, but for Leila, it sapped the energy to keep her eyes open. The hour was late. They had practiced this for a while now. She was behind on studies. Not that Kairi minded. On days where she wasn’t well enough for magecraft, they could always go to the park, or the harbor.
With a smile,he finally spoke up again. “Tired?”
“ N-nooo,” She shuffled her feet under the covers. Hands brought the comforter to her nose. Her rabbit plush tumbled down. Leila escaped her pillows a little as her father reached for the toy. He tucked it in by her neck. She mumbled in protest, dipping her head to squish Mr. Rabbit with her cheek. She slipped back down.
“ Yesssss, time for bed,” Kairi hummed. He stood up, plucking the flowers from the bed. Back into pockets they went. “There’s always tomorrow.”
Leila watched him hang his coat on the door, dust off his hands, turn off the light and return back to the bed. Her mouth was covered to hide the budding frown. Shishigou took his place on the corner of the bed, back against the headboard. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled comfortably. A good end to the day.
“ ...I’m sorry.” Sadness found its way in her voice.
Kairi hesitated. There it was again, that tightness in his chest. Why? She knew the importance of her role, and the weight of disappointment. Why did a child have to be shouldered with that where adults failed?
“N-no, no, no. I could’ve have never asked for better. You’re doing great.” His voice threatened to crack. He reached to brush away those pesky bangs. “Don’t worry about that, ok?” He bent over. Even in the darkness, he could see the shine of tears. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “ Have sweet dreams. ”
Goodnight. Goodnight. Goodnight.
Magus families placed priority on their lineage. Generations and generations into their family crest, passing down their skills and spells for the next to advance further, learn further. The Shishigou clan was no exception, even as they steeped themselves further into Necromancy to not die out. Both a curse and a blessing to the struggling clan, they progressed and deepened their understanding, perfected curses and reanimation, the binding of souls and the process of organs. Kairi Shishigou was a prodigy, a testament to all they had worked for, respected within the Mage’s Association and a top student through the Clock Tower, just as he had been groomed for. Yet, yet, what power demons whisper come with cost. The Shishigou clan was to end with him. No magecraft could prevent the corrosion of stillborns to ash at his fingertips, or desperation of a collapsing family. The repeated deaths , the loss. No child was worth the risk to him but how ironic: he was too good a Necromancer, playing with his own children. His family never looked at the death on their hands. What did it matter? Their own was before them. Too much was at stake, too much was to be thrown away, even as Kairi Shishigou wished to throw himself away.
When that girl was brought to him, compatible in spirit and blood, hopeful and dreaming, the wish he had lost had been returned to him. All those children’s lives dust and ruin because of him, it had never been about the chance to clan prosperity, or the push to have her succeed him...
And so, his touch was always gentle. Hands that spun curses every day ghosted over her hair, pulling away strands from her face as she slept. Delicate, delicate, as if anything more would also break this illusion of fatherhood and she too would turn to ash as had all the others.
He was unable to move or stop the motion-- why was it so hard?
He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand the pain that shook his ribs or the silent choking in his throat. It bled from deep within, straight from his soul as if he had held it in for years. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. Take her far away. No magecraft. No worrying, but he didn’t want to wake her-- he couldn’t, not for her to see him cry and grieve... but he didn’t want to leave. Tears pooled at the corners of his mouth, lips peeled as he sucked in air through his teeth. His days were filled with such joy, why now? What was wrong?
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