#sinsposting

lets actually go through them all for funsies!

Swish.

Swish.

Twin clouds of cresting dust swept across the empty courtyard, low and fast against the ground until they burst against the stones of the northern and southern walls.

Above, the sky glowed with the hesitant blue of a dawn not yet broken, the cloudless expanse between the trees revealing a single star too stubborn to fade in the morning light.

Swish.

My blade halted an inch above the windswept earth, dry and barren after years of neglect, a wasteland betraying no sign of the rich, resplendent grasses that had once called this soil home. Much like my family's name, in that regard.

Well, not that I'm helping matters, I thought, looking at the sword hanging loosely in my hand.

A dull, orange light glinted off the weathered steel as the morning sun peeked gingerly over the treetops. As if on cue, a loud grumbling echoed in the empty chambers of my stomach, telling me it was time for breakfast. Dragging my feet through the dirt, I slowly made my way to the musty old guardhouse that sat against the northern wall.

Father had impressed upon me the importance of returning my weapon to its proper place after practice. He had also told me to only ever use the wooden practice blades, but in the ten years since his death, they'd all wound up snapped or shattered one way or another, along with a number of the real blades stored in here. Try as I might, I could never get the broken swords to stand upright in the racks, and consequently the guardhouse floor was littered with splintered wood and fractured steel. I leaned my weapon on the first rack I saw and headed for the kitchen, spurred onward by my indignant hunger, though not at any greater speed than before.

The old Everart manor had seen better days. Cobwebs clung to the grimy corridors, the light of the sun could barely penetrate the thickly clouded windows, and already the stately bricks of the manor's walls were beginning to crumble. It wasn't that old of a building. I wondered if the curse on the Noble House of Everart had extended to the physical house, as well.

At least the water still works, I thought as I watched the cool liquid flow from the glowing blue gem embedded in the faucet, splashing into the glass that awaited in the sink below. The round puddle of silvery metal around its base where the water occasionally overflowed was the only clean spot in the entire house. Cutting off the flow of mana to the gem, I made for the pantry, leaving the glass of water on the threadbare cloth that covered the long, empty table on my way. I opened the door and turned to the left shelf, upon which sat a hard sailor's biscuit, a small piece of jerky, and a candied strawberry.

Oh.

It is an unfortunate fact of life that all humans, even cursed ones, need to eat to survive. In the wake of Father's death, when I'd found myself alone in the abandoned manor, I'd thought it might be nice to simply fade and rot away in bed until death came to find me, but it was sadly not so simple. Pain finds you long before death even leaves her house to begin the search: the desperate howls of starvation, the bleeding, cracked lips of dehydration, the agonised screams of joints and muscles slowly crushed under the weight of immobile bone. Even I could only ignore my body's cries for two days before I rolled myself onto the floor and crawled to the kitchen for water.

Before the pain, though, arrived the boredom. One would think, afflicted as I am, that I might thrive in stillness and reverie, doing nothing from morn to night and night to morn, but the curse does nothing to alleviate boredom. It merely invites it. Finding no joy in the interests I'd half-heartedly pursued, no drive in my heart for aspirations I'd idly held, and no sleep in my bed no matter how long I held my eyes closed, boredom was my constant, most loathsome companion. The sole escape available to me, I soon found, was habit.

The daily lessons Father had forced upon me in the hopes that I'd grow into a proper young lady became my lifeline against the endlessly encroaching ennui. Studying in the morning to hone my mind, etiquette after lunch to sharpen my influence, and swordplay after dinner to temper my body. The whole of the night was now available to me, but I found it easier to simply swing my blade until morning than to find something new to occupy myself. With no one left to pay the staff, I had no teachers to instruct me, but I had shelves full of books and a guardhouse full of swords, and that was all I needed to keep the boredom at bay.

Of course, this schedule provided no way to acquire food on my own, and even if the curse had allowed me to deviate from it, I was a child of merely eleven years at the time. I could've no sooner fed myself than I could've prevented Father's death. Thankfully, Miss Veronica, one of the manor's erstwhile maids and wetnurse to my sisters and I, was aware of my circumstances and periodically brought a cart of preserved food up to the manor to keep me alive.

If this is the last of it, she'll probably be back today, I thought as I chewed slowly on the piece of jerky.

To say it was tasteless would be a lie. The dried meat was full of flavors: mostly salt, but also beef, and just a hint of some spice I couldn't identify, which already ranked it head and shoulders above the average jerky. More true was the fact that I didn't care one way or the other what it tasted like. Given the choice between good and bad flavors, I'd choose the closest one to my hand every time. I'd asked Miss Veronica to just bring the cheapest and longest-lasting foods she could find, but still she snuck little treats in when she could, like the candied strawberries from her previous visit.

I popped the last strawberry into my mouth, hoping I could at least enjoy it enough to make up for the trouble she must've gone through to get them for me. The crystalline sweetness of sugar and the faint, grassy flavour of honey gave way to the mellow tartness of the fruit itself as I bit down, spreading through my mouth and across my tongue before finally pooling at the back of my throat as I swallowed. But just like all the ones before it, I felt absolutely nothing.

Ah, well. I should get ready.

Miss Veronica would probably arrive around lunchtime, so I had only a few short hours to spare. Accepting guests in this sorry state, caked in dust and stinking of sweat, would be the height of impropriety, which meant today was bath and laundry day. I'd long since grown out of my old clothes and into the dresses Eri-nee had left behind, so I dragged the basket of filthy garments out of her room and dumped them into the bath. As I channeled mana into the red and blue gemstone eyes of the chipped ornamental lion's head and steaming water gushed from its gaping mouth, I felt a twinge of annoyance that even at twenty-one, I was still small enough to fit into the dresses Eri-nee wore at thirteen.

I still had a bit of soap left from the last time Miss Veronica brought some, so I lathered up one of the dresses and used it to scrub my body clean. Then, sinking myself into the soup of fabric, I rubbed the soapy dress against the others and left them to soak in the water with me. It wasn't the right way to do laundry, but any more than this was just too much effort. Leaning against the slimy stone edge of the enormous bath, I relaxed and let the hot water work its way into my aching muscles, carrying me off as close as I could get to sleep. This little bit of boredom was okay, at least.

As the time came for Miss Veronica to arrive, I pulled a dress at random out of the bath and wrung it out, sending a cascade of brown water into the laundry below. The finely-woven fabrics protested in my grasp, but with merciless, unrelenting force, I squeezed every drop of liquid out from between their folds. It was still damp. I didn't bother drying off before putting it on and going to meet Miss Veronica at the gate.

I'll get the rest of them later, maybe.

Thirty or so minutes later, she entered the gate, the clip clop of an old horse's hooves heralding her arrival as it heaved a cart laden with provisions up the hill. She waved from the driver's bench as she saw me waiting for her.

"Good morning, young miss!" she called.

I bowed deeply, emulating the posture I'd read about. "It's a pleasure to see you, Miss Veronica," I said.

"Very glad to see you're still a polite little thing, young miss, but there's no need to bow to an old woman like me," she smiled. "You and your sisters are as much family to me as my own son. More, even, if that rotten jackdaw brings home another bastard after this last one."

I didn't have anything to say to that. I'd met Miss Veronica's son a few times before Father died, but he was a year older than Rii-nee, so I didn't know him very well.

"I don't blame the kids any, of course, cute as anything, but the boy's poor wife seems about fit to carve him dick to dimples," she gossiped as she tied the horse's reins to a post just inside the gate. "Sorry to ask, young miss, but d'you mind terribly helpin' me carry these inside?"

I did mind, but it would be a pain if I upset Miss Veronica and she stopped coming.

"Of course," I said with a smaller bow, and the two of us began the arduous task of filling the larder with tough biscuits and dried meats.

"No fruits today, I'm afraid," she apologised as we returned to the cart after our first trip. "Trouble down the docks. Way things are lookin', I might not be able to keep you fed much longer, young miss."

There wasn't a script for asking for more information in the etiquette handbooks, so I cocked my head and made an inquisitive humming sound, hoping she would understand.

"Water dragon's gone and claimed the harbour as its territory," she explained. "Patrollin' near the shores, frill displayin', mist dancin', the whole thing."

"Oh."

Miss Veronica continued, waving a hand in the air as she leaned against the cart. "Course, water dragons ain't the type to go up on land, young miss, so you're plenty safe up here. 'S just the ships can't get in nor out of the harbour, and no tellin' if or when it'll clear out."

"Mm." That sounded pretty bad for the town.

"Worse comes to worst, they'll have to hire a team of adventures from the capital to come and take it out," she said. "None of the locals are up to the task. But comin' over land, fates only know when the hells they'll get here."

"Mm."

"And of course, that damned gods-blooded bastard that took over the territory after your parents passed won't lift a finger to help," she spat. "No offense to you and yours, of course. Your parents were as good a pair as any."

"No, not at all." "Gods-blooded" was an insult for nobility in the local dialect, a tongue-in-cheek mockery of their claim to be descendants of the gods, legitimising their right to rule. Though it didn't really apply to our family, as Grandfather had been granted his title for illustrious military service. I'd read about him in books before.

"Anyway, with the harbour closed off, young miss, I may be out of a job soon enough, and it'll be tough gettin' so much food from the quartermaster from now on," she said. "I'll do what I can, of course, but…"

"Oh." When Miss Veronica had worked at the manor, Father had instructed the head butler to teach her words and numbers, so she'd found work keeping the books at the harbour soon after his death. If the harbour closed down, with all those people looking for jobs at the same time, she might not have it so easy. I knew I should feel bad that she was worrying about me when she had a family and problems of her own, or at least thankful, but as usual, I couldn't muster anything.

"I'm sorry, young miss, I really am." She laid a weathered hand on my shoulder. A look of confusion crossed her face as she touched the damp strap of the dress I wore, but nevertheless she pulled me into a hug. A sniffling sound in my ear made me think she was going to get the dress even wetter.

"It's okay," I said. I wrapped my arms around her and awkwardly patted her on the back. She patted me in return.

"I wish there was more I could've done for you all these years," she said. "Your father was so good to me, and all I've got to give to his little girl's a cartful of old bread and meat."

Her tearful voice, worn with age but overflowing with a warmth I'd known from the day I was born, tickled something somewhere deep inside my heart.

"It's okay," I said. "Thank you for everything. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure, young miss?" she asked, pushing away from the hug with her hands on my shoulders to look me in the eye.

I nodded once.

"Alright," she said with a smile, wiping away a tear. "Forgive an old woman her worrying. Let's get this all packed away, shall we?"

Of course, I wouldn't actually be okay. If the dragon remained in the harbour and Miss Veronica couldn't bring me food anymore, I very well may starve to death. Crawling to the sink was one thing, but crawling all the way to town, finding a job, and waiting until I got paid before eating anything was more than I'd be able to do, physically and mentally.

If the dragon remained.

Later that night, after unloading the cart and wringing the mud from Eri-nee's dresses, I slowly walked down the hill toward the town, sword dangling at my hip and biscuit dangling from my mouth. It was the first time in the ten years since Father's death that I'd left the manor grounds. It was a pain. It was such a pain. But dying of starvation sounded just enough worse to force me to action.

By the time I made it all the way down to the harbour on the east side of the town, it was well into the night. The salt sea breeze stung my throat and filled my nostrils. It had been a while since I'd last smelled it so close. A heavy chain and padlock held the gate shut, but in a flash of light, they clanged loudly against the flagstones, split cleanly in two. I wondered if anyone had heard it as I stepped past into the shipyard.

The docks were eerily quiet, and the silence made them all the more eerily noisy. The terrible creak of ropes and timbers seemed to echo impossibly, repeating unnaturally at different pitches and speeds as a dozen vacant ships strained against their mooring in the evening tides. Across the saltworn beams I walked, passing ship after ship, until finally I stood at the edge of the pier that stretched furthest into the water. No ships were moored this far out for fear of enkindling the dragon's territorial wrath.

A voice far in the distance reached my ears, but I couldn't be bothered to turn around.

"…Young miss?"

Wave after wave of cresting water swept across the agitated bay, low and fast against the surface until they crashed against the planks of the ships behind me.

"Young miss…?"

Above, the moon glowed a full and brilliant white to illuminate the waves, the endless, open sky promising light enough to see in the midnight abyss.

"Young miss!?"

My blade halted an inch above the rough-hewn wood, shining silver in the moonlight, as a great, scaly head rose slowly from the depths to meet me. Twin orange frills like sails extended behind its head in beautiful contrast to its brilliant blue body, and a pair of long whiskers curved elegant arcs from its nose. Its frills and nostrils flared sharply as it exhaled, filling the air with glimmering mist. Its neck began to move in hypnotic patterns, and through the mist it seemed to multiply, simultaneously faster and slower until it appeared as though three dragons now danced before me. A powerful pressure exerted itself on my mind, urging me to turn and flee in terror, but I was already here. After all the effort it took to get down here, no man or beast alive could possibly turn me back.

I don't know if I can do this, I thought. But if I can't, I guess I'll just die. It's a better way to go than starving.

I took a deep breath and stepped off the dock into the water.