Saw this and immediately thought of my characters Ishtal and Arancha. They are sisters who have been trained their entire lives to become the guardians of their isolated village and stand between it and the outside world. Arancha is the older of the two and very much an Eldest Daughter, very responsible and committed to being the Good One. Ishtal would like to be well-behaved, too, but is unfortunately hampered by involuntary kleptomania that may or may not be the result of a curse. Despite their differences, they are close and loving until Ishtal finds herself exiled from the village, creating a rift between them.
From today's chapter:
âAre you sure youâll be all right?â Arancha asked, not for the first time. Ishtal had lost count of how many times theyâd been over this.
âItâll be fine,â she reiterated, mostly patiently. âAll Iâll be doing is walking to Seigarren Herria, handing out the mail, picking ours up from Guardian Kemen, and walking back. I wonât even be gone the whole day. And Iâve only done this, what, dozens of times before?â The mail runs between villages were one of the first guardian duties Father had delegated to them, once they were old enough to cover the distances involved. To begin with, theyâd always gone together, but now that they were grown up, they made the trips on their own and split the list of destinations between them.
âYes, butââ Arancha glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. âThis isnât one of the ones you usually do. They wonât beâŚprepared. For your, well, you know.â
Ishtal glared. âYou donât have to sound like that. Iâm not a flood or a windstorm. I donât need safety precautions.â
Arancha didnât say anything, just twitched the end of her tail. And all right, it was just possible that the reason there hadnât been an incident of Ishtal walking off with anything valuable or important in years was that their neighbors, and the people in other villages she visited often, had learned to keep her away from shiny odds and endsâbut she didnât know that. Maybe sheâd just grown out of the proclivity. Arancha had no reason to give her that suspicious look.
âIâm a grown woman,â she continued. âI think I can exercise some self-control and keep my fingers from wandering for an hour or two. It probably wonât even be a problem; they donât know me as well, so theyâll be less likely to invite me to linger or come inside. Iâll be in and out before any trouble could even start.â
âIshtal,â Arancha cut in. âI donât think you understand. Itâs not you Iâm worried about, itâs Berezi.â
âOh.â Ishtalâs defensiveness dropped slightly. âRight. Her. I wasnât thinking about that.â
âWhy do you think I insisted on putting Seigarren Herria on my list?â Arancha said dryly. âYou know what, Iâve changed my mind. Iâll go after all.â
âWhat? No way, youâre not feeling well, you need to restââ
âI meant Iâll go when Iâm feeling better. The mail can wait a day or two, itâs fine. If Father asks, Iâll explain and heâll understand.â
Ishtal sighed. âThatâs not fair to everybody else, though. We only swap mail with the Seigarrens every other week. Theyâve been waiting.â She squared her shoulders. âLook, Iâll just go. In and out, no lingering, it wonât be a problem. Youâll see.â
Arancha looked like she wanted to argue, but then sneezed violently. âAll right, all right, you win. I donât know why I bothered trying.â
âYouâre always trying,â Ishtal teased. âYou canât help it, itâs in your nature.â
âVery funny, pailazo. Youâd better get going if youâre going.â
Ishtal smirked, then scooped up the mail sack and slung it across her back. âI wonât be long. Donât start supper without me.â
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