Mia Cien

Mia Cien

There once was a girl who lived in a province called The Gossips’ Archer. It was called this because it was said that anyone who was born ‘outside’ the province was constantly shot with ridicule until some underhanded trick of court caught you and they’d smile at you till you were dead. It was a cool politeness that flowed there. It was the province of the King and every one was constantly in act or worse conflict of manner. A toe out of line would not do as no one was ever simply thrown out of court. No, you were born there with honor and in title and if you were truly human you fought to keep and receive no more or less lest someone think you wish to advance and throw off the balance. But the girl was one not afflicted by these laws. She was the girl born on a summer night to a high Queen. Her will would be law if she so chose to speak it. That was the problem. She refused to speak unless it is some tired comment in a bored or sad humor. She had turned the court over to her mother’s alleged murderer and while the people knew and believed the man wasn’t capable they wonder at her audacity. She stayed at the Prayer’s counter. A church-like home in which many actresses and playwrights stayed in return for donations from their patrons. The donation in turn not only kept the house and the orphanage attached to it but the ones also set up in that system. Everyone who came came looking for work until she lived there. The King could not have her in his home. No one knew why and could only assume things. They despise that girl an outsider who did not exist till her mother’s death. At her burning they saw she had dry eyes and they would never forgive her. She, being a minor, stayed under the law of house mentor. She obeyed him as he was her guardian and one word from him would have her banned from the outside world as insane. He was Tall as she short. He yelled as she was quiet. And there were only two words that he could say that cause her to show grief. Mia Cien. These are words that her mother would call her. She would get flustered. She would show anger. She would glare up at him and yell and demand he tell her where he heard such words. He would sit back and smile for the first time that day and ask why she wanted to know.

Now this day

 

The girl looked around the room. She looked up at the ceiling. She even dared to look at the ground outside the window. She looked at everything, to avoid looking at the man in front of her. He was speaking and she was listening. He knew it and she knew it. But that didn't mean she had to look at him. He was a wicked man with an angry spirit. Why would she look to him? Why would she look at him? He was tall as she was short. He was loud, proud, and spiteful and she would not look to him. He chose his friends to vent and often fought. She was often alone in the public eye and rarely spoke a word. It was her trouble-less rebellion that bothered him. She did nothing and yet she was rebelling. He always hated her for that. While she was ridiculed in rumors they would never touch her. She had never broken a rule and therefore they could do her no harm. No one truly hated him and he was beaten daily for his outburst. When he had reason everyone disagreed. When he took action he was in trouble. They never knew why she did things and she did not hand out the info. What reason did she have to rebel? He was stronger than her, they say he was smarter, they were opposites. Fire and Ice. She could see that that alone was enough reason for them to be put together as Mentor and guardian. Kill two birds with one stone and torture them both. But he was her mentor....

He stopped talking.

Glaring he handed a small leopard print envelop to her. On it was a Crest of Order.

She was summoned by the King.

She grew angry.