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drista-the-parity-goddess · 2 years

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[This is a ficlet about Drista's present & past! It contains themes of war and other uncomfortable topics. None of these are detailed, but they are explained enough to be relevant. Proceed with caution.]

There is a young Goddess sitting alone.

She does not know why she is sad, but she wishes she was not. There is a mist gathering at her feet, but she is cradling Foolish's children, keeping them safe. Foolish Jr. is leaning against her, Finley is in her arms. They are both asleep.

The enchanted forest that surrounds them is one of Drista's own making, from many, many years ago.

"Girl! Come back!"

She had stormed off after a training drill with the army that raised her. Back then, she had no name. She was ten years old- really ten years old- and all she had been to these men was a weapon.

Used as a weapon because she had been given "Exdee's Blessing," as a child, according to the men. That a God had apparently given her away.

This particular training drill had been brutal: "One more punch, Girl!" They always said. "One more punch!" But her body would bruise back then. All a part of the illusion that she was mortal.

"One more punch!" They said. And She backed off and refused.

She backed off, she refused, and when they got angry, her once teal eyes burst into a brilliant white, and chaos leaked from them.

It was terrifying at first, a hundred angry men charging at her, trying to get their weapon to cooperate. Then, a light. One might have even thought it was Lady Death, coming to claim her.

But no.

She opened her eyes, and the men had gone wild. Several of them were in pairs, looking madly in love, the general of the army she was raised by bobbed his head and praced about like a chicken.

Then, she got angry, because who were they to hurt her?

So, she pulled her training sword from its hilt and she approached that general, and boy, when she swung...

Drista flinches, when Junior stirs and wakes up.

"Drista?" He mutters, blearily. "You okay?"

"Hmm, oh- yeah, I'm okay." She smiles. "I'm good. Are you okay?" She draws her pinky from the tip of his nose to his forehead, and he watches it sleepily.

"Yep!" He reports. "Not sleepy though."

Drista may have lied enough in her day to know that isn't true. "I see. Well, how about I tell you a story about how this pretty forest we're in came to be."

"'Kay!"

The girl stormed off, face dripping with angry tears, sword dripping crimson. Standing in the plains that skirted the base she'd lived in, she fell to her knees. And she cried.

She cried for a long time, and she didn't know why. It hurt a lot to realize that the men who cared for her this long didn't want her to be who she was, they wanted her to be a machine. She wasn't a machine.

She hit at the ground, and she hit until suddenly a sapling appeared upon the ground beneath her, a sapling that would spin into a grand dark oakwood tree. And it spun faster than she expected, sitting there. Perhaps years passed, before she noticed she'd fallen asleep against the tree.

And when she stood up, bleary eyed, her uniform feeling worn on her, back, torn by a thistle growing behind her, she realized she was not standing in a plane at all anymore.

Her existence had summoned a forest.

And she was not any older.

"Woah!" Junior smiled. "The girl sounds real brave, to make something so pretty outta something so sad..."

Drista almost burst into abstract shapes.

Maybe she was brave.

#//ooc tags:#dsmp rp blog #dsmp #dream smp #drista origin story #angst #tw death

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