Mirage

“Yes, mother.”

For all her life, her mother and father had controlled most aspects of it. Nightmare and Spectra demanded much of her attention all day, every day. Whether it was Nightmare sparring with her and teaching her how to use a blade or Spectra drilling into her the values that they valued above all else --be loyal to the clan, be unafraid, be commanding-- didn’t matter; Mirage still spent so much time around her family. Surprisingly, Mirage spent less time with her brother Wraith, ignoring the idea that siblings tended to come together due to their shared experiences.

Currently, Spectra was teaching her daughter how to manipulate dragons with a silver-tongue in real time. As in, they were at the market and were scamming sellers left and right. It was a well-known fact within the four members of the family that the mother preferred the daughter, and that the father preferred the son. So, the mother was a bit cold to her son while the father was a bit cold to his daughter. Still, they were family, and family was honored within them. Especially Spectra, though Mirage had never asked why.

“Mirage, pay attention.”

Nervously, Mirage watched as her mother sweet-talked yet another dragon into handing over some vegetables before they moved on, the shop-keeper under the false pretense that the gorgeous ebony-feathered Skydancer would return to him again. Mirage was still young and pure, so in her mind, this form of stealing was the worst sin her mother could commit, and the daughter was an accomplice. So, it was perfectly reasonable for her to be nervous.

Of course, Spectra didn’t consider that. Well, it was more like she didn’t care. The wicked Skydancer sighed and nudged Mirage forward, expecting her to play with the shopkeepers like puppets. Mirage glanced behind her at her mother before attempting to copy her mother’s smooth tongue and quick reflexes.

“Well,” Spectra sighed after the two were far enough from the market they had fled from, “It is better than before.”

Later, the two would return home to a clearly skittish Nightmare trying to hide his feelings. Mirage had no idea why he was always scared of… Something, but later in her life she’d learn about the others. The hatchlings of her father that hadn’t been lucky enough to grow up smart and protected. Or those that had lived couldn’t utilize their skills due to their ‘bad luck’.

Nightmare made it clear he wanted his daughter to learn how to fight--or, at the very least, protect herself. Every time they could, Mirage’s father would take her aside and give her lessons on how to utilize anything from the sharp blade of a blood-stained cleaver to the claws that he insisted should be used first to incapacitate the enemy. Although Mirage knew her father was well-meaning, but she just preferred her mother for some reason. Perhaps it was the thrill of pickpocketing and thievery, the tension of whether or not she’d get caught. Battles were bloody and fun, but they didn’t have the same type of excitement that Mirage craved.

Her brother, Wraith, would scoff whenever she would pass down a sparring match with him or their father in favor of following their mother around. Mirage, in turn, would hiss that perhaps her brother was obsessed with their father. It always led to fights, though eventually, they would make up. They had to. The two siblings were trained to be able to fight side-by-side and take down any enemy if they so pleased. They were trained to be the perfect and most formidable duo in Sornieth by two of the most terrifying dragons that were only spoken of with hushed whispers.

There was clear favoritism. The father preferred the son, the mother preferred the daughter. Neither of the siblings particularly cared. If Mirage could practice being charming and smooth while slowly slipping a golden locket into her bag, well… Then it was good enough for her. Plus, she preferred the silver tongue to the silver blade, it was just easier for her to wield the latter. Mirage never resented her father for sticking to her brother more often, considering that is what her mother did with her. Sometimes, the younger sibling would wonder if there was some sort of rivalry between the two blood relatives, but the thought was always fleeting and the Skydancer would quickly dismiss the thought in favor of snatching some dim-witted Snapper’s cloak or an oblivious Fae.

Rarely, there were tender moments within the strange family. Usually, it was prompted by some sort of tragedy --a near-death moment, for example--, but most of the time the family members would coolly regard each other. It was just how things were, neither the parents nor the siblings were bothered by this. Most of all, not Mirage. She didn’t need the validation of her parents nor her brother, and that’s how it’ll be.

Lore by Neraida

Art by Annoyed