Breaking the Lock and Flying Away.

Branwen peered cautiously over the edge of the embankment. Below her, the clear blue water which mirrored the colour of her eyes glittered resplendently. A few fish swam through it, swerving around rocks and making their way steadily downstream, and blue dragonflies skittered across the mirror-like surface of the stream, but nothing more. She sighed inwardly in relief. Just a moment ago she could have sworn she had seen a face in the water, looking up at her with blood lust in it's eyes. It was a face she saw often, watching her constantly from mirrors, reflective surfaces, water, and even her own blood. Just yesterday she had cut her foot on a piece of sharp rock whilst waking by this very river, and in the pool of blood which had become to form the face had appeared. It was usually a woman's face, strange, and foreign looking. The face was always blurry, so she couldn't make out much detail, but there were metal objects all over the woman's face, and she always looked at Branwen with a fire in her eyes, a burning hate, and a hurt still buried deep inside. Apart from that, there was nothing else Branwen could decipher about her. The face was so blurred that she wasn't even sure that if she ever saw this woman then she would ever recognise her. 1

When the woman's face didn't appear, it was always a man with a purple-blue haze of shoulder-length hair. He looked at Branwen alot more kindly, but with alot more insecurity and angst.2

When she saw them, it always freaked her out. Despite her kitsune blood, Branwen had never shown much of a talent for magic. It was an alien subject to her.  She could do all the basics, but when it came to stuff like divination and complicated charms... she was a real let down. Her sick mother had told her many times how if she had shown more of a talent at birth, then her father would have stayed with them and Branwen wouldn't have had to go live with the humans to spare her mother the shame of not only having a demon child, but a failure as well. Unfortunately, 10 years ago, her foster parents had been killed and Branwen had come back to live with her ailing mother. At 17, she was useful for nothing but looking after people and looking pretty. They were traits she grasped onto tightly to save her self-esteem. 3

"Before I die, Branwen, I'll find you a respectable husband who'll whip you into shape. i swear I'll do it, even if it costs me my dying breath. It's the least you can do, marrying well, when you've shamed me in every other way possible."4

Branwen sighed and rolled over onto her back, dispelling the evil thoughts.5

"I must not hate mother." she chanted. "I must not, I must not, I must not. It's not her fault. It's mine." Branwen took deep breaths in and out, banishing the bad energy. Finally content to accept that she would no longer think ill of her dying mother, she settled down in the soft grass, and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin.6

"Branwen." 7

Branwen jerked awake suddenly at the sound of a deep voice calling her name. Panicked, she sat up, breathing heavily and searching desperately for the speaker. Then she felt a man's hands on her shoulders, and was painfully aware of a well-muscled body behind her. The stranger Lent in, and put his mouth to her ear.8

"Branwen, go to your mother now. She nears death even as i speak these words to you."9

The voice was soft and comforting, and as Branwen glanced down at the hands she saw that they were very distinctive Kitsune claws. She turned her head even more and saw a few wisps of pure white hair, like her own, floating in the air before there was a sudden flash of light, and the man was gone. 10

In his absence Branwen sat by the stream, stunned, as she processed the information. The voice and the feel of the man's hands....they were so familiar-11

MOTHER!12

Branwen jumped up, cursing herself for being so slow. She had to get to mother! Hurriedly, she picked up her basket full of berries and ran straight through the bushes towards the hut she shared with her mother away from civilisation. 13

By the time she got there, it was too late. For the second time in her life, Branwen stood before her parent's dead body. But this time, the tears did not flow. For what seemed like hours she stood, waiting for the familiar stinging in her eyes which heralded the arrival of tears, but it never arrived. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't be sad that her mother, this person who had abandoned her and then branded her as the reason the love of her life had left her, was dead. Gone forever.14

"she's dead." Branwen whispered to herself. Then; "Oh, Branwen, you evil, evil child! Your mother is dead, so cry, cry for goodness' sake! You're just like she said, a redundant child who breaks up a perfectly happy couple, and a useless demon who can't do magic!" 15

Now she was in tears. In self-disgust Branwen raced out the door into the twilight, swearing silently never again to prove her deceased mother  right, nor do anything she wanted her to do. She wouldn't ever cry again, to prove she was strong, she'd learn magic to prove she wasn't a failure, and she wouldn't marry a respectable lord! Ever!16

It was the last time she laid eyes on her mother. The next day, when Branwen returned to collect the things she'd need to make her own way in the world, the body was gone. Without looking back, Branwen finally left her lifelong prison, ready to experience the freedom which was rightfully hers.17