ALL MY HEART

[Moenah 1018]

Spoiler

 

 

 

“WHY DON’T YOU EXPLAIN THIS ONE TO ME, ELIZAVETA?”

 

“Oh. Oh– me?” She was the only ELIZAVETA present in the room - thus the only girl the voice could’ve possibly asked. So, silly of me, she thought, to answer like that. “Right…”

 

The young Barbanov stepped back, just for a moment, with her hands to her hips. A brief sigh escaped her, and she looked over her finished work. Really quite something, the painting was – the canvas fixated over a mess of frizzed brushes and an even messier palette.

 

“Ea have, have been working on this a, a– a very long time.” She began, slow and in her usual stammer, one she couldn’t quite rid herself of. And by a long time, she meant only a few months, a couple of those months spent watching herself in a mirror as she drew – to portray herself the best she could.

 

“I CAN IMAGINE, AND IT LOOKS WONDERFUL. BUT, THAT IS NOT WHAT I ASKED,” Replied the voice. “I ASKED YOU TO EXPLAIN IT TO ME. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE, EXACTLY?”

 

“Oh. Well, it’s, it’s–” She pauses, followed by a sharp inhale. “It’s a short story. Ea– eam holding the, the hand of my friend, Viktor var Volodomster.”

 

“VIKTOR VAR VOLODOMSTER?” They muse, “I’VE YET TO MEET HIM.”

 

“He’s shy, he is. He’s, he’s only second to Petyr Pakovski, but– but that is someone else.” Dismissing the new name, she waves her hand. “Let’s. . Let’s see, well… He’s a bit si- silly. See, he’s got a very long neck, no legs and– and a snake’s body. Also, his, his head is like a stag. That is why, see, he- he is drawn so.”

 

“LIKE A SHADOW?”

 

“Like a shadow.” She parroted, nodding her head. “It’s, it’s– it is because, well, ea tal- talk about him and see him just fine. But, nobody else can. Ea also think that it has to do– do with the fact that, that he is shy.”

 

“ISN’T THAT SOMETHING…”

 

“Mhm. And then, there’s me.” She points out, a smile gracing her face- for she was quite proud of her own portrayal.

 

“THE FACT THAT NO ONE ELSE CAN SEE HIM, WOULD THAT MEAN VIKTOR IS NOT REAL?”

 

Briefly does Elizaveta pause, her smile slowly fading. She simply shrugs. “Ea– ea, ea don’t know. He, he is pretty re- real to me.”

 

“DO YOU THINK I’M REAL?”

 

“Ea mean, vy– vyr talking to me, right now. So, vy have, have to be.” - “Really, vy can, can be whatever vy want.”

 

Silence festers between the two of them, Elizaveta and the voice with no visible body to speak from, leaving time for the newly finished painting to sit and dry. The girl releases another sigh then.

 

“Well, an– any, anway, ea put a lot of my heart into it. All my heart. So… so, so ea think it looks good.”

 

“SO DO I.” They concur, clearing their throat. “NOW, TELL ME OF THIS… PETYR PAKOVSKI.”

“Oh, him. That is a longer story.” Huffing, she takes the artwork off its easel, and out of the room, perhaps to be put on display before the whole Prikaz. “Vyr, vy– vy have to be seated when I tell it.”

 

['BEING REALLY REAL' Elizaveta Ulyana Barbanov-Bihar, 414 E.S.]

[UnBaed 8910]

Moliana hummed passively to herself as she carried an armful of a crate into the newly furnished apartment for her family, the jars within clinked softly together despite the hay stuffed between them for cushioning.  The Nikirala Palace was vast, much like the Augustine, yet it still remained entirely different to the palace she had once spent so many years in with her mother and sister.

 

Everything was so alike, while incredibly unalike.  She was hardly sure with how she ought to regard it. Would this Court be like home? Molia thought to herself, pacing through the rooms decorated in lavish furs to trap in the warmth from the hearths. Where everyone offers warm greetings and dons toothy smiles, all almost seems well until they sink their teeth into your throat and pull. Her lips hinted to a frown as her swam into those older memories of being chased out of her homeland, and she let loose a breath once she stepped into her laboratory.

 

The crate was settled onto her worktable.  Not every similarity she had experienced in Sigismund's Court had been unnerving; she had already found herself to be a favorite figure amongst many of the children, having become a primary source of curiosity for them thanks to her display at the recent Royal Court with the King.  Not to mention that her daughter has likely been bragging about the feats of her parents to her friends.

 

The thought of taking in more wards, as she once had in the Empire, quieted some of her uncertainties.   There was an indescribable joy she felt to see that light of wonder in a child's eyes, to be the one to take their hand and take them through doors that would introduce them to the dozens of wonders hidden in the world - before letting them loose to chase after their own dreams.  Deep within her, in a corner of herself that Moliana didn't even realize, such acts were done to recapture old adventures she once experienced; when she was but a girl wandering with a spirit she called brother. 

 

Despite this, Molia already had a few targets in mind for her mentoring. . .