Surrounded in something soft and warm, Asura shifts in her sleep, bringing a deep breath into her lungs that reminds her of the sea and leather- her father’s scent. Turning her head, she shifts the warm cocoon around her, convinced she is encapsulated in an armor of quilts. Feeling spiderwebs tickle her face, she swats them, and through the touch of her hand, a wrongness fills her. 

What is…?

Blearily opening her eyes, she looks for the calluses on her palms that she didn’t feel when wiping the webs from her face. No blemish marred her small hand, but it was covered in black strands. 

Looking around for the source of the black strands, she still has not come to terms with her small hand, and instead sits up in confusion. She pulls on them, only to yank her head to the side.

Mother of…!

As her sight shifts to the bed with sheets, banisters and a large fireplace come into view, her skin grows clammy with recognition.

…This is my room when I was young.

Wide awake now, she throws the sheets off her legs, only to recoil in shock as her legs are bared to the world. 

They’re stubs!

She grimaces as she beholds her small, spindly legs. Slapping her hands on them, surprising herself with the stinging sensation on her fingertips, she vaults off the bed, landing on cool wood planks. Tripping once, twice, and then catching herself on the arm of a rocking chair, she swings helplessly on it while she adjusts to her new bodily dimensions. Blowing her hair out of her face, she draws herself up, the wobbly legs taking her slowly before the mirror on the side of the room. 

Beholding her reflection, the room spins with dizzying certainty. She has returned to when she was eight years old. 

That damned Goddess! She couldn’t even get me to puberty?!

Asura grabs a fistful of hair in each hand with frustration, wiggling her body wildly in fury.

Eight year old Asura was a tall young girl, with long legs and little muscle. Until she turned nine and became her father’s apprentice, she had never picked up a sword and her body had only known household chores.

“A kid should be a kid”, her father would say when she asked about learning the sword.

While they weren’t rich by any means, her father was a famous swordman and earned a considerable living that allowed them to live comfortably. Asura would complain that they were spending it all on her. She would wear an assortment of clothes specially made just for her, and Nan would do her hair in a variety of ways in coordination with her outfits. Because Nan loved to do a plethora of hairstyles, Asura’s hair reached her waist at this age, thanks to the care her dark locks received. 

As she was biting her lip with endless thoughts, the door opened and Nan entered, carrying a small plate. The aroma of the meal wafted to Asura’s nose and made her stomach growl. Having only known field rations for the last several months before the time jump, real food was a luxury she hadn’t tasted in quite a while.

A potato, steaming on the plate, was covered in sprinkles of herbs straight from the garden that Nan tended to. Swirling inside and leaking from all sides was…

“Henson’s boys made the butter fresh this morning!” Nan said, a twinkle in her eye as she looked Asura up and down in amusement, no doubt from her disheveled appearance. 

Still in disbelief, Asura was rooted to the floor, the smells of breakfast, and the sight of Nan confirmed that her time travel was no illusion. 

As Nan set the dish down on the small table in the room, she twisted the plate to show off a loaf of bread, with even more butter glistening the top.

“And the bread was baked fresh this morning, by yours truly.” Nan proudly smiles at Asura, planting both hands on her hips. 

“Now come eat, before it gets cold.” Her gentle beckoning to Asura cracked something within her, and she coiled her small fists to her chest in hesitation. 

Please don’t be a dream. 

With her fervent wishes echoing in her heart, Asura steps forward. But instead of sitting down at the table to eat, she tugs at Nan’s skirts, urging the woman to bend over.

“What is it, my sweet?” Nan tilts her body so her face is close. 

Asura links her arms around Nan’s neck, overwhelmed with emotion. 

Nan was the only servant that her family had, and was someone akin to a grandmother for Asura. For this alone, Asura loved her deeply, and mourned for a long time when Nan passed away in her previous life. She couldn’t even go home to visit her grave, since she was on the battlefield at the time. 

“Oh ho ho!” Nan laughs merrily, and returns the hug. 

After eating her breakfast, Asura was dressed in a cream colored high low dress, with frilly leggings and comfortable shoes. This was her favorite outfit when she was a child, as it let her run without tripping over any fabric, a sensible choice for a tomboy like her. 

“I’m going to go play outside now!” Asura exclaims, her high ponytail fluttering behind her movements as she ran out into the hall. 

I need to find a newspaper!

Getting her bearings would be the first most important step, then she can begin to collect all her memories and begin a plan to prevent the war that took everything from her. She picks up the pace.

Turning sharply around a corner, she collides with what feels like a wall, bringing with it scents of the sea.

“Oof!” she grunts as she bounces back, then scooped up. 

“Full of energy again today, I see!” a low laugh fills the hall, and she’s cradled in the arms of her father. 

Rubbing her nose, she opens her eyes in surprise and gazes at the face of her father. 

“Papa…” she whispers.

His eyes, so full of love, gaze down upon her. Those were the same eyes he was looking at her with as Duke Pontius struck him down in front of her. 

“Yes, my little one, your Papa. Have you forgotten me?” he chuckles, pressing his forehead against hers affectionately. 

For the second time that morning, she is overcome with emotion. Encircling his broad neck as much as she can, she hugs him tightly, the scent of sea and leather enveloping her with comfort.

“Never, Papa.” she says, fighting back tears.

Never.

Releasing him only after she has her fill, she smiles brightly at him, memorizing his features and scent once again.

“Where’s Mother?” Asura sniffles, rubbing her nose again.

“Working at the palace, today, I’m afraid. I wonder if she’ll come home early once I tell her how adorable you’re being today!” laughing mischievously, he sets Asura back on her feet, flicking her ponytail with a large finger.

“Have fun today, little one. Come home before dark.” Gently pinching her cheek, he strides down the hall to his original destination but stops suddenly.

“And keep away from those Henson boys!” 

The only time Asura sees him with a serious expression on his face, is when he’s working, or talking about the boys in her life.

She giggles and replies.

“Ok, Papa! See you tonight!”

She dashes out the door, greeted by the smells of cooked food and the sound of many voices and feet. The townsfolk shuffle their feet on the ground as they dodge each other in their attempts to arrive at their destination. Men, women, and children hold signs of advertisements, trying to lure customer to their stalls of various goods. 

Steamed squash, cut in half and sprinkled in sugar or butter in one stall. Roasted meat with spices imported from overseas in another. Jewelry and trinkets at yet another. And more sweets than Asura has ever seen in her life pop up at every other stall. Baked apples with oats, caramelized peaches, sugar coated nuts, fruit syrups, and Asura’s favorite- lemon pudding with a bit of cream on top were littered among the stalls.

Asura’s mouth watered, but she ignored her craving and pursued her goal of finding a newspaper. She already had a good idea of the date, given the timing of the festival, but there was a specific day that occupied her mind as she wove through the patrons. 

With each step, she began to snap herself out of her childhood happiness. In order to endure what was to come, she needed to steel herself now in case she failed. An eight year old can only be so powerful by themselves. 

Passing a bulletin board of advertisements, posters and portraits of various children, she continues to run through the street until she spots a stall with a stack of papers on it. 

A young man in suspenders and rolled up sleeves greets her as she approaches.

“Hello young lady, care for the news? Two ivories each.” 

Two round coins of bone clunk against his palm as she paid him. 

Opening the paper after handing over the ivories, she begins to walk away when a voice stops her.

“Hello little raven.” An elderly woman dressed in bright clothes and flowers woven in her hair passes by.

Asura freezes as if cold water was poured down her back.

There is only one other that calls to me that way. 

Stricken with unease, she turns her head with narrowed eyes to look at the elderly woman more closely.

“How do you know that name?” Asura asks in a low voice, anger coiling in her belly.

“The goddess has blessed you. Why don’t you pay her a visit?” 

Pointing in the direction of the next town over, she still does not make eye contact with Asura, and instead shrugs, then turns back around and approaches to buy a paper from the same stall. Asura tries hard not to think about the dark substance under the lady’s nails. 

Looking darkly in the direction of the town over, she recalls that the ruined temple was the same place she collapsed in after she set down Quinny’s body. A ripple of sadness disturbs her anger.

Quinny. I wonder where you are right now. 

She looks up at the lone cloud in the sky, wondering if Quinny was doing well.

Having made up her mind, Asura tucks her paper under her arm and heads back into the crowd. 

First buying a bag that’s easy to carry, a cloak, and a lot of snacks, she then buys and fills a water skin before starting the half day walk to the town over, Gensen. After stuffing the bag as full as she can, including the freebies the stall owners gave her, she taps her legs in anticipation. Even if she’s angry at the goddess, a small coil of excitement burns in her belly at the prospect of travel.

This will be good for my legs. 

Wrapping herself in her cloak, she departs for Gensen. Afterall, she only had to be back by sunset.