#spheira

Man, I miss drawing these losers.  ; w ; <33

Those of you who have followed me or my art long enough might recognize my sad bi son, Spheira. He's an OLLLLD Zelda OC of mine whom I love dearly, even though he fucks up a lot, haha.

Boy means business.

I pretty much died.

  "We're out of food again."      Spheira leaned back in his chair and groaned.  A week had passed since they had been in town and he had bought groceries for the house.  Problem was, he was so used to being only a few streets away from market that he hadn't thought to buy food for longer than that.  It had only been a few months since he had reclaimed his parent's old ranch and he wasn't used to living so far away from the busy streets of Castle Town.  To make matters difficult, the house had been in worse shape than he had originally thought and the repairs and renovations on the building were taking much longer than he had expected.  So far only the kitchen and bedroom were near completion while the rest of the house was still drafty, moldy and in general disrepair.  "I can go again in a few minutes, lemme just get everything together."  As he moved to get out of his chair, Dahy sat him back down with a hand.      "No, I'll go.  You need to rest, you've been working all day on the house.  I could use the fresh air anyways."  He then grinned wickedly.  "Besides, I'll actually get enough food to last us the entire month."        Spheira moved to swat Dahy away, was unsuccessful and made a face.  "At least I can cook.  I don't even want to think about that, what was it a casserole?  Yeah that casserole you made two days ago.  I still have nightmares about it."      Dahy leaned over and kissed Spheira, then moved toward the door, slipping on the boots he had there.  "I'll be back soon... try to relax and if you have to work on the house, keep it strictly on paper."  He motioned to the sheet of parchment in front of Spheira where he had scribbled a list of repairs to do next and figures for how much they were going to have to spend for supplies.      "Yeah, don't worry.  Even if I wanted to, Abyss probably wouldn't let me.  He's been nagging me all day about working too hard.  I just want to get everything together so we can get my sister moved in before midsummer next year and to do that we need--" his words were cut short by Dahy, who had raised his hands in defeat.      "I know, I know.  Still, don't overwork yourself.  I don't want to come home and find you collapsed on the floor or something."  He shut the door behind him and Spheira turned back around, slumping in his chair with a sigh, his ponytail catching on the headrest.      Even with Dahy gone, the house wasn't very silent.  Every time the wind would pick up, the house creaked ominously, floorboards groaning and the glass rattling in the panes of the windows.  It didn't take long for Spheira to get restless and he began to bounce his knees a bit, then sat up and tried to continue working on his list of things to do.  His ability to write had improved, thanks to Abyss, but his penmanship was still on par with most children and shaky and inconsistent in size.  He quickly got aggravated with writing and set his pencil down with a sigh.  "You won't yell at me if I do the dishes, will you?" he said this aloud even though it was directed to Abyss.  He had always felt weird just thinking his conversations to him, but since he was the only one in the house, he could have his "one-sided" conversations comfortably and without confusing other listeners.        <<I have not "yelled" at you for anything you have worked on, Spheira.  I merely told you that you need to pace yourself.  You would have died from exhaustion by now if you would have kept the pace you had initially started with.>>  Abyss' voice was stern and Spheira rolled his eyes, grabbing and sorting the dirty dishes from the past few nights.      "I didn't mean you literally yelled at me, I just mean that you're being fussy.  I know how much I can push myself."  He dumped all of the utensils in the wash basin, stacked the rest of the dishes next to that and grabbed the bucket from the floor, walking towards the back door.        <<I would just prefer that you not work so hard.>>  Spheira set the bucket down next to the water pump and lifted the handle, which emitted an ear-piercing screech.  <<I realize you know this, but both Ziven and I worry about your health.>>  Spheira forced the handle down and raised it again, pumping the handle forcefully, clearly irritated.  <<It would not benefit your sister if you were also hospitalized.>>      "I KNOW!"  Spheira landed a kick on the bucket, sending it into the tall grass of the yard and sending pain through his bare foot.  Hopping and cussing, he retrieved the bucket and dropped it under the pump, which he gave a few more forceful motions until water poured from the spout, overfilling the bucket which he lugged back indoors and set on the stove to boil.  After what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence, he felt an itching sensation in his head and sensed Abyss wanted to speak with him, to which Spheira's response was a sigh and a nod of his head, indicating that it was alright.      <<Spheira... I apologize.  I did not mean it in that fashion.  I realize you are under a great amount of stress and I should not have mentioned it.>>      "No, I'm sorry I snapped.  I mean, look, I know you and Dahy have my best interests in mind, but I really know what I'm doing."  Spheira pulled up a chair and sat down with his elbows propped on his knees.  "I just get a little irritated when, well you know."      He felt as if Abyss shifted his weight, changing tone.  <<I understand, Spheira.  You are very noble to shoulder that responsibility upon yourself.  Your sister should be proud of the sacrifices you make for her sake.>>      Spheira gave a weary smirk.  "Thanks."      They talked until the water came to a simmer and Spheira dumped the bucket into the wash basin, grabbing a rag and scrubbing the dishes clean, humming to himself.  He was about to start scraping the dreaded casserole pan when there was a loud creak of floorboards from the adjacent room causing Spheira to freeze.      "...Dahy?"  There was no answer.  The house seemed oddly still, which raised suspicion from him, and he wiped his hands on his pants legs quietly as he called out again.  "Dahy is that you?  If it is, it's not funny."  Again, the house was silent.  Spheira silently grabbed a paring knife from the counter, his training kicking in as he moved toward the room where the sound had come from, keeping as low and as out-of-sight as he could manage, wishing that he hadn't left his personal knives in the bedroom and hoping to the goddesses that it was just another rat.        As he slid around the corner of the door frame, the room appeared empty, even upon a second scan of the area.  <<Do you sense anything in the house, Abyss?>>  He asked silently, moving toward the opposite door and peering around that corner as well.      <<No, there is no one in the house.  It was most likely wind that caused the sound.>>        Spheira relaxed and stood up, shaking his head and lowering the four-inch blade.  <<That's it, the floorboards for all the rooms are next on the list.  I don't want to be jumpy like that in my own house, especially when it's only wi-->>  his thought was cut short as he felt a needle-like stab suddenly hit the base of his neck, causing him to lurch sideways in shock.  Trying to turn and face the one who stabbed him, he was greeted by a cloaked figure, one hand baring a set of needles spaced between the fingers.  <<I thought there wasn't anyone in the house!>>  He felt dizzy, his eyes spinning.  He had to get to his weapons before his attacker could finish him off, it was the only thought racing through his mind at that point.      His hands landed on an end table that had been placed to the side and saw this as a chance to escape, flinging it at the figure and drunkenly running down the hallway toward the bedroom.  With each step more of his energy was drained from his body and he barely made it halfway down the hall before collapsing, barely conscious on the floor.  Before his vision went black, he saw the cloaked figure coming closer toward him, looming over his limp body.