3

The wheat fields had been harvested long ago, replaced by a carpet of golden stubble. Four years had passed, and the small infant was now a surprisingly agile five-year-old, though still small for his age. Julian gripped a wooden practice sword, his brow furrowed in concentration as Kuina guided his movements. She moved with a grace that belied her years, her movements precise and efficient, a clear indication of her past life as an S-Ranked Adventurer.

"No slacking off over there Eira."

Kuina called over her shoulder, sensing the stagnant formation her nine year old had taken.

Eira winced, annoyed with the umpteenth time when it came to sword practice. She watched her mother's goddess-like movements carefully, but never could grasp the mere perfection and grace Kuina appeared to have. She grumbled under her breath, finally tossing the wooden sword into the earth.

"I can't do this anymore, I'm no swordsman. I don't have the traits, or interest for it."

She stated stubbornly. Growing up came with both maturity, and rebellion. Her butterfly-esque wings flapped strongly to make her float off of the ground. Over two years of trying with the sword, with barely any progress made. The only skills she had learned were evading her mom's most basic and 'easygoing' attacks when she was taking it easy. Magic was what

Eira had been practicing in secret, following her father's lead.

Kuina’s movements stilled, the wooden sword in her hand lowering slightly. A shadow passed over her face, a flicker of something icy and stern.

“Do not speak like that, Eira.”

She said, her voice sharper than Julian had ever heard it.

“Everyone has the potential for strength, for skill. It simply requires dedication and perseverance. Giving up is not an option. Not for my children.”

Julian stood tense and felt a chill run down his spine. His mother was hardly ever strict with them except when it came to swordplay and learning how to protect themselves.

"I'll spar with you sis..."

He offered, lifting his wooden sword with a **** smile. Any means to cut the tension between both females of the family would be ideal.

Her mother's tone made her shudder with chills stretching up her spine. Still, Eira shook her head to both her mother and brother.

"My strength doesn't lie in a sword, that has to be obvious..."

The fairy muttered, her glowing pink gaze shifting uneasily between her parents.

"Magic is my strength, I've been... Poppa has been teaching me in our spare time."

Cat's out of the bag, surely her father will forgive her. Unless her momma already knew, knowing just how perceptive she is.

Kuina's practice sword splintered in her grasp and she pursed her lips into a thin line.

"Alright then. Show me. If you can land a single blow on me with your magic, I will not push the sword on you any longer."

Her mother's voice was calm but carrying an undertone of challenge with it. There was no way she'd approve of her daughter using just

[magic.

An

](http://magic.An) S-Ranked mother, squaring off against her young fairy of a daughter. Eira gulped slightly to the challenge, apprehensively staring at her own mother's stance.

'I'm bound for a whooping anyway...'

She thought to herself, accepting her fate. Nature symbols began forming over her arms, wind symbols spiraled into green markings. Drawing in magical **** in front of her small hands together.

"Wind cutter!"

Eira chanted, a spell her father was still training her to master to perfection. Her small blades of wind shot out toward her mother.

Kuina moved with blinding speed, her hand a blur as she deflected each miniature blade of wind with a casual flick of her wrist. The wind cutters dissipated harmlessly against an invisible barrier of energy surrounding her, barely disturbing the air. She didn't even bother to shift her stance, her expression remaining impassive.

Eira’s eyes narrowed, frustration mounting. She abandoned the direct approach, instead focusing her energy on the ground around Kuina’s feet. The air shimmered as she wove a more complex spell, drawing upon the earth’s energy. Small vines erupted from the ground, attempting to ensnare Kuina’s ankles, slowing her movements. They weren’t intended to harm, merely to restrict. A subtle shift in the wind accompanied the spell, a swirling vortex designed to disorient.

With practiced ease, Kuina began to systematically dismantle Eira’s spell. Each swing of the wooden sword wasn’t aimed *at* Eira, but rather at the vines themselves, severing them before they could fully constrict. The swirling vortex of wind was met with a counter-current, a focused blast of air from Kuina that dispersed the magical effect. It was less a battle and more a demonstration of skill, a stark contrast that highlighted the gap between mother and daughter.

The flat of the wooden sword connected with Eira’s stomach with a resounding thwack. It wasn’t a powerful blow, but it was enough to knock the wind out of her, sending her stumbling backward a few feet. Her wings fluttered wildly, struggling to maintain her balance as she landed awkwardly on the ground, clutching her abdomen. A small gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes welled up with tears.

Eira, winded and stinging from the blow, instinctively activated her wings, launching herself into the air. She didn't attempt another attack, instead rapidly ascending, putting distance between herself and her mother. She circled several times, her small form a blur of pink and gold, before finally hovering a safe distance away, catching her breath and trying to compose herself. Tears streamed down her face, a mixture of pain and frustration. She looked down at her mother, a mixture of defiance and hurt in her eyes.

Despite her distress, Eira refused to back down completely. From her vantage point in the air, she began to weave another spell, this one drawing on the ambient magical energy of the surrounding fields. The air around her crackled with power as she gathered her focus, forming a larger, more potent Wind Cutter. This one wasn't a series of small blades, but a single, concentrated beam of swirling wind, aimed directly at Kuina. It was a **** attempt, fueled by anger and a desire to prove herself.

Time seemed to slow. Kuina’s jump was a marvel of athleticism, a testament to her honed physique and years of rigorous training. She ascended with impossible speed, meeting Eira’s attack head-on. The wooden sword flashed, bisecting the Wind Cutter with effortless precision. But it didn’t stop there. With a swift, brutal motion, Kuina continued her swing, the wooden sword arcing downwards. A sickening 'snap' echoed through the field as the blade cleanly severed both of Eira's wings.

The loss of her wings was instantaneous and catastrophic. Eira’s eyes widened in shock and pain as she felt the connection to the air severed. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she plummeted towards the earth, her small body tumbling helplessly through the air. She landed with a jarring thud, the impact knocking the remaining air from her lungs. She lay on the ground, limbs splayed, gasping for breath, staring up at the sky with a mixture of terror and disbelief. A whimper escaped her lips, quickly escalating into heartbroken sobs.

Her wings fell like helpless feathers in the wind, just barely able to collect herself. Her nimble fingers stretched out to her wings, the color quickly fading away. Eira held onto them, her broken sobs echoed against gritted teeth. Terror, fear, both looked up at her mom as she tried to move with her body refusing to budge an inch.

Julian did what any kid his age would do, he held his stomach and threw up at the gnarly sight of blood.

All the while, his mother landed gracefully and dropped the wooden sword, her gaze slanted and her expression unreadable as she procured a healing potion from the leather pouch on her hip and uncorked it, pouring it over the bloody slits of Eira's shoulder blades. The flesh bubbled and healed over smoothly. She then lightly grabbed her daughter's face in her hand firmly.

"Magic will not save you... it could not save your birth parents. You will learn the sword first."

Her tone was icy and final.

Eira didn't respond, her eyes shade of pink darkened to a new depth, nearly reaching hues of red when hesitantly reaching her mother's icy gaze. Her body noticeably trembles at the older woman's touch, to her very presence, especially at the mention of her birth parents.

"Are we... just that easy to..."

She gulped, unable to finish the sentence. Clinging onto her wings as if they were some sort of sick lifeline. Picking herself up once Kuina let go of her face, tears still welled below her eyes, even while healed, the phantom pains were gnawing at her back sickeningly.

"Everyone is easy to kill. That doesn't mean you should go down without the tools for a fight."

Kuina whispered. Her voice was low, devoid of warmth, yet laced with a strange pragmatism. She didn’t offer comfort, didn’t apologize for the severity of her actions. Her gaze remained fixed on Eira, assessing her reaction. It was a heartless thing to do, but would make her daughter all the more stronger in the long run... and allow her to stick out less in a crowd as well.

Kuina then simply turned and began to walk back towards the farmhouse, her movements purposeful and efficient. She didn’t look back at Eira, offering no further explanation or reassurance. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by Eira’s quiet sobs and the rustling of the wheat fields. Reaching the barn, she paused, then called over her shoulder, her voice still devoid of emotion.

"Come inside and wash up. Both of you."

Eira, still clutching the remnants of her wings, slowly and painfully rose to her feet. Each movement sent a jolt of phantom pain through her back, a constant reminder of her loss. She didn't dare meet her mother's gaze, keeping her head bowed as she stumbled after Kuina towards the farmhouse. The vibrant colors of her fairy form seemed dulled, her wings – or what remained of them – dragging behind her like a weight. She moved with a newfound fragility, the carefree spirit she'd possessed moments ago seemingly extinguished. The farmhouse loomed ahead, a silent and imposing structure that offered no comfort, only a cold, harsh reality.

Eira, avoiding all eye contact, slipped into the farmhouse and made a beeline for the bathing area – a small, sparsely furnished room with a large wooden tub. She quickly stripped off her soiled clothes, discarding them in a heap on the floor, and stepped into the warm water. The heat offered a small measure of solace, easing some of the ache in her muscles, but it couldn’t touch the deeper pain within. She sat submerged, her chin resting on her knees, lost in her own thoughts, deliberately isolating herself from her family. The only sound was the gentle lapping of water against the sides of the tub and her own quiet, muffled sobs. She scrubbed at her skin with a rough cloth, as if trying to wash away the humiliation and fear, but it was a futile effort.

The wooden door creaked open, and Kuina entered the bathing room without a word. Her expression remained unreadable as she undressed and settled down into the tub behind Eira, her large breasts pressing against the back of the girl's head as she helped shampoo her hair. Her movements were surprisingly tender despite the earlier harshness. It wasn’t a display of affection, but rather a practical act of care... a moment to repair the drastic measure's she'd born down on her beloved daughter.

"Eira..."

Kuina's voice trailed off. She hesitated, her fingers gently massaging the soap into Eira’s scalp. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke again, her voice softer this time, the motherly warmth flooding back into her gentle tone.

"Your wings... I shouldn't have taken them away..."

Kuina paused again for a breath.

"I'd prefer you learn not to rely on them from me... rather than get seriously attacked in the future... as it stands... they will grow back... I promise..."

Eira stiffened under her mother’s touch, her body tense with a mixture of relief and lingering fear. The admission, though belated, was a balm to her wounded spirit. She hadn’t expected an apology, hadn’t dared to hope for one, and yet here it was, offered with a quiet sincerity that resonated deep within her.

Eira's eyes focused down towards the bubbling surface, shifting herself more comfortably against her mother. Visible signs of tension stretched against her shoulders, as if her muscles were attempting to flap nonexistent wings.

"The sword... two years and I haven't managed to wield it properly to your expectations..."

Her tone was no more than an audible whisper as she hugged her knees.

"Could I... try a different weapon... one that sides well with my magic? It's... it'll be more convenient for me..."

Eira asked, not wanting to disappoint her mother any further than she already has.

Kuina grabbed a bath mug and filled it, pouring the water over the girls hair to rinse the shampoo.

"Perhaps. The bow and spear aren't entirely out of the question... though they aren't my strongsuit."

Kuina continued to rinse Eira's hair with methodical precision, her movements gentle and calming. After ensuring all the soap was gone, she set the mug aside and reclined in the bath exhaling heavily.

"Do either of those interest you?"

Kuina murmured softly.

Eira leaned back against her mother's large knockers, trailing her gaze up to the ceiling. Both of her hands rose up in the air, grasping at nothing.

"Prehaps... a weapon in each hand? Wind piercing arrows..."

Her words trailed off with her thoughts. Her momma was willing to come to a compromise, letting Eira's imagination run wild.

"Dual crossbows, scythes or daggers? Daggers might be hard with wind... What do you think momma?"

Eira leaned her head back into the deep bosom valley behind her, her pink eyes gradually softening and returning to a cloudless sky blue.

"I think learning the fundamentals of a beginner weapon would suit you best..."

Kuina responded lightly. She chuckled softly, a rare sound that sent a ripple of warmth through the tense atmosphere. She gently stroked Eira’s hair, her touch unsurprisingly affectionate. She'd always doted on her children before now and didn't intend to drastically change that...