Board Thread:Short Stories and Fanfictions/@comment-109.161.162.101-20191116154638/@comment-109.161.168.119-20191128155019

WOOh okay so this is short and was done quickly as well, so sorry, but I wanted to get this done and have the weekend off (though that might not be the case, since I enjoy writing) for family time and studying for tests. Hope you enjoy:

Chapter 4

“Mom. Dad. Let’s go.” Biana’s grip tightened on their wrists and she pulled them closer to the steep stairs.

“What? Why? We just got here!”

“Not now, Dad. Just please. Do it for me. I’ll tell you everything at home,” Biana promised.

Mom wasn’t convinced. “Where’s your match packet? I’m not taking you again any time soon if you leave without it.”

“Mom, we have to go. I’ll tell you everything later.”

“Young lady—” Mom was cut off by a soft yet wary hand over her arm from Dad.

“Della, let her go. She’ll have to tell us at home.” He made eye contact with his daughter. “I’m trusting you, Biana. Don’t let me down.”

She responded with a firm nod, and together they left the building.

***

“Biana, you said you’d tell us,” Dad sternly stated. “Keep your word. What was it that had you leaving so fast?”

Biana took a rattling breath. “Listen. Somehow, they know things. Things that only people could not achieve. I think there’s a technopath at work or something, I don’t know, but I do know that I can’t share it verbally. And try reading my mind for it.”

She waited steadily as Dad focused on her eyes, teal meeting teal. Moments of silence and Mom’s worried glances followed, broken by heavy panting and shaky but now focused eyes. “I don’t understand,” uttered Dad, massaging his temples. “It’s all fuzzy, and…”

“Unnatural?” Biana guessed.

“That goes without saying.”

“I wish I could expand on this, but they can hear us, I’m sure. We need our Lady Fos-Boss to help us out, and she’s busy. So we’ll wait for this conspiracy to be solved. In the meantime, I need to talk to you Mom—I don’t think you fully get this.”

The cobalt eyed Vacker slowly bowed her head, and Biana led her off. Into the back garden they went, passing bushes and flowers sculpted into the most amazing creations. They both blinked in and out of sight as they walked, every step unpredicted by visual standards. An ordinary, wooden bench stood solemnly in the middle of the colourful explosion of plants. The two sat down on the bench, Mom gazing off into the wispy sky while Biana concentrated on keeping her stomach churning to a minimum and twisting the strands of loose hair into tiny braids.

“So…Mom. I have news for you. I know you’re tired of people hating us, and…well, I’m sorry.”

Mom looked concerned. “This doesn’t seem to be a good start,” she noted.

“No, it’s not,” the smaller elf agreed. “You’re probably going to be mad, or disappointed, or something negative that hurts me. But…I’ll get this over with. It needs to happen, so—”

“If I may, I’d like to ask that you get to the point.”

“Fine. I’m going to be a bad match.”

Mom dropped her eyes from the sky to her daughter. “What?”

“I said, I’m going to be a bad match,” she affirmed, and this time it felt real.

Biana Vacker, Foxfire Queen, popular and pretty and perfect: a bad match.

“Fluffcream, why? The matchmakers have made so many people happy! Look at me and your father. Alden wouldn’t have even noticed me if it weren’t for the matchmakers, and you wouldn’t exist.”

“The matchmakers have also ruined other people’s lives, Mom; look at Brant and Jolie. Brant and Jolie both might still be alive if the matches weren’t unfair to the talentless. Look at Juline and Kesler, and what it’s brought upon to their kids, even though they are made for each other and Dex and the triplets are talented, smart and amazing people.”

“That’s two examples! Can you list anyone else who’s been affected like this?” Mom asked.

“Do you call Gisela and Lord Cassius a good match?” Biana argued. “Keefe’s entire upbringing is partially the Matchmaker’s responsibility, and they failed real hard on that one. Don’t you see what they’ve done?”

Mom stood up stiff as a rock, and said monotonously, “Well, it’s your choice. I guess I can’t do anything about it.”

Biana bit back a protest as Mom stalked off. Once the beautiful lady was gone, she sighed, and realized what she had to do.

She pulled out a silver-rimmed, square screen that she clutched gently as she clicked it on. She held it up to her mouth and whispered, “Show me Tam Song.”

-Lady Sassyfur