Once Upon A Time...
Brief Odin Sphere fic! Placeholder for when I write something actually, uh, substantial. This is just some post-game nonsense. Spoilers for Mercedes' story and the True Ending.
“No, I won’t!”
“Now Alice,” said the teacher, worriedly. “It’s part of the assignment.”
“I won’t,” said Alice, at a stubborn fifteen. She turned so fast she knocked one of the jars to the floor. A chemical smell took the room. Glass was everywhere. Students scattered. “Teacher, please excuse me. I don’t feel so well.” And she flounced from the room, from the school, from the road. Clutching the container to her chest, she walked into the woods.
“Mother will be angry,” muttered Alice, kicking a stone. The teachers would say something again. She’d been a problem for some time now. Oh, that Alice. Where was her head at? Outright rebellion was no surprise. It was inevitable. Alice always thought it for a very just cause. They couldn’t have expected it of her, shouldn’t have expected it of her.
“It’s barbaric, is what it is,” Alice heard the sound of running water; the brook which ran through town. At this stretch the water was clear, with worn stones leading to the opposite side. Alice kicked off her good shoes, her clean socks. They were such boring socks, so plain, like the rest of her uniform. She waded ‘till she reached the center stone. She knelt, and put the bundle on the rock. Pulling off the brown paper, and twisting the lid of the jar, Alice tipped the small green frog into the open air. It squished its eyes together, drowsy from chemicals and a long time in a dark place, but the scent of water and rotting grasses revived it. It began to hop against Alice’s cupped hands, its soft, slick back bumping her palms.
“The brook goes upstream into the forest,” said the girl. “Go find the World Tree, okay? And don’t swim through any more towns. You’ll get caught again.”
She lifted her hands. The frog lingered on the rock. Alice waited, as though expecting a response. The frog swiveled its eyes, puffed its cheeks, and dragged its body into the stream. It vanished in a glassy blur.
“Oh,” said Alice, not at all surprised, at least satisfied that the deed was done. “Good bye, then.” She waited one moment longer, giving it one last chance…and then went to find her shoes. The edges of her skirt were completely soaked. It was okay. The uniforms were really ugly anyway. She should’ve probably gone back to school. Home sounded better. Home and her bookshelves, the ones she’d dragged down from the attic a few years ago.
A little farther upstream, sitting on a branch half submerged in the mud, sat the small green frog. Its flat blue eyes followed the girl as she vanished up the hill.
“Thank you,” it said, and went on its way.
“No, I won’t!”
“Now Alice,” said the teacher, worriedly. “It’s part of the assignment.”
“I won’t,” said Alice, at a stubborn fifteen. She turned so fast she knocked one of the jars to the floor. A chemical smell took the room. Glass was everywhere. Students scattered. “Teacher, please excuse me. I don’t feel so well.” And she flounced from the room, from the school, from the road. Clutching the container to her chest, she walked into the woods.
“Mother will be angry,” muttered Alice, kicking a stone. The teachers would say something again. She’d been a problem for some time now. Oh, that Alice. Where was her head at? Outright rebellion was no surprise. It was inevitable. Alice always thought it for a very just cause. They couldn’t have expected it of her, shouldn’t have expected it of her.
“It’s barbaric, is what it is,” Alice heard the sound of running water; the brook which ran through town. At this stretch the water was clear, with worn stones leading to the opposite side. Alice kicked off her good shoes, her clean socks. They were such boring socks, so plain, like the rest of her uniform. She waded ‘till she reached the center stone. She knelt, and put the bundle on the rock. Pulling off the brown paper, and twisting the lid of the jar, Alice tipped the small green frog into the open air. It squished its eyes together, drowsy from chemicals and a long time in a dark place, but the scent of water and rotting grasses revived it. It began to hop against Alice’s cupped hands, its soft, slick back bumping her palms.
“The brook goes upstream into the forest,” said the girl. “Go find the World Tree, okay? And don’t swim through any more towns. You’ll get caught again.”
She lifted her hands. The frog lingered on the rock. Alice waited, as though expecting a response. The frog swiveled its eyes, puffed its cheeks, and dragged its body into the stream. It vanished in a glassy blur.
“Oh,” said Alice, not at all surprised, at least satisfied that the deed was done. “Good bye, then.” She waited one moment longer, giving it one last chance…and then went to find her shoes. The edges of her skirt were completely soaked. It was okay. The uniforms were really ugly anyway. She should’ve probably gone back to school. Home sounded better. Home and her bookshelves, the ones she’d dragged down from the attic a few years ago.
A little farther upstream, sitting on a branch half submerged in the mud, sat the small green frog. Its flat blue eyes followed the girl as she vanished up the hill.
“Thank you,” it said, and went on its way.