User:NeloAngelo/Redstuff/Sophie's Memory

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Swallowtail - Nelo 1= As an orphan from the Plague, I sold myself to Everia's red-light industry. It wasn't out of any noble cause to bury my parents- all infected have to be cremated to prevent Grotesque transformation to begin with. ...Nor do I have any siblings to feed. It is simply the way I was taught growing in the darker streets of Everia. The first customer I served was at age 16.

2 years later, a passing briefing from my boss would change my life forever. "The man you'll be accompanying tonight is an important guest from Chiara. Make sure to do your job right."

One thing led to another, my records are purged, and my guest that night brought me to Chiara.



2=

For my stay in Chiara, I was assigned to batch of women close to age-group. From day-one's self introductions, all of them seems to came from healthy families or high-society. Except one. "[....]I'm from Rizaia." She proudly proclaimed, flicking her red hair. Of course, at that time, no one knew where Rizaia is until she explained it - the waning countryside. Her self introduction and long red hair made a strong impression to everyone that day, and soon, she became known as the red-haired country bumpkin.

For the most part, I never interacted much with my peers- a part of me loathed the idea of spending time with people whose life I could have. However, there was one exception- the red hair colleague. The country bumpkin. Of course, I wasn't being a nice or anything- I just felt our status are similar. For the next 2 years, our relationship grew from colleagues from close friends. She would regularly talk about her hometown, the dazzling wheat-fields, the gentle breeze, the quiet atmosphere. I- usually talk about surface Everia news. Looking at her expressions, I can tell she sometimes wanted to inquire more, but held herself back- Between us, there's always an unspoken pact that we don't probe things personal.



3=

"[....] so, if you were to do it like that, we can solve the issue." And just like that, my red haired colleague easily solved another issue in today's Transmigration rite practice. "That's amazing, sister!" I said to her. I congratulated her with a smile, but deep down I wanted to puke. I wasn't a particularly bright trainee- what took me months to master, she finished in days. While I was struggling to control the extraction of Red Ghost Butterflies, she's already learning how to make Red Thinners. I know my weakness. So I compensated with effort. But everytime I thought I had something going, she would effortless trample upon it.

Why. Why does a country bumpkin able to do so much. Our backgrounds aren't that dissimilar- we're not born high-class. So why am I inferior? Am I to accept that there are simply those who can surpass you, regardless of your hardwork? Is it too much to ask to have one thing, no matter how trivial over her? I know she is not at fault, but every useful tip she offered to me- and only made me feel worse. I hated myself for having these feelings.



4=

As if someone heard my prayers, my red-headed friend asked me to swap our final aptitude test with her. She scored a rating 90%, while I scored a mere 70%. What's the meaning of this!? Was she pitying down on me? "Please, Sophie! I don't want to leave Rizaia!" She pleaded. A Shaman with a rating comparable to Maiden Araya, would rather bury her talents in a God-knows-where place like Rizaia!? But....why does she look so happy when I agreed with her proposal? Is it because she has a home to return to!? That's our difference? Why?

In the end, everything worked out as we planned. I was promoted to High Shaman, and she returned to Rizaia with a new identity: "Red".



5=
 * Araya: "High Shaman Sophie. In recognition of your contributions towards Beovault's defense against the Plague, I hereby grant you a fragment of Sage Arato's power. With your talents, I am sure you can uncover the secrets within and make it part of your strength. May the wisdom of the Sage guide you."

Receiving a gift as prestigious as this, and directly from the hands of Maiden Araya, makes my resentment back then seem so childish and trivial. Though Beovault is the area of jurisdiction I was given, I finally have a place I can call a home. My hardwork is recognized by the citizens. Their pleas were not a lie.

But...is this all really earned by me? Or was this a result of me stealing her position? ....