Old Shame
Title: Old Shame
Author: fullmetal_cute
Fandom: X-Men
Table/Prompt: Table 3/27. Ashamed
Character/Pairing: Nezhno Abidemi
Rating: PG
Word Count: 297
Summary: Nezhno doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but he knows that it has something to do with his father.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: I own nothing, as you know.
Nezhno already felt ashamed of himself for following his mother and the shaman, but his curiosity had overcome his better sense long before. He needed to know why his mother had gathered all those things she had so long treasured and followed the shaman to the river. The shaman was lecturing Mother on how she must purify both herself and her environment if she was to ever be clean again.
Nezhno knew that this was the strange shaman definition of clean, and not the usual one, for Mother certainly made him bathe far too often.
As he watched the shaman carefully arrange his mother’s treasures on what looked like a small funeral pyre, Nezhno finally realized the common thread between all the objects.
They were all gifts from his father.
Nezhno bit his lip to keep from crying out as the shaman handed his mother a lit torch, which she dropped onto the pyre. The oil soaked wood caught quickly, consuming everything that had been placed on it, save for a single photograph that seemed to leap out of the blaze on it’s own accord, fluttering on the breeze until it landed at Nezhno’s feet. The boy quickly stomped out the embers that had latched on, eating away at the image, and though he was too late to save his mother, his father remained untouched, ever smiling.
Nezhno tucked the photograph away, though he wasn’t sure why, and watched the fire eat away at everything else.
Author: fullmetal_cute
Fandom: X-Men
Table/Prompt: Table 3/27. Ashamed
Character/Pairing: Nezhno Abidemi
Rating: PG
Word Count: 297
Summary: Nezhno doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but he knows that it has something to do with his father.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: I own nothing, as you know.
Nezhno already felt ashamed of himself for following his mother and the shaman, but his curiosity had overcome his better sense long before. He needed to know why his mother had gathered all those things she had so long treasured and followed the shaman to the river. The shaman was lecturing Mother on how she must purify both herself and her environment if she was to ever be clean again.
Nezhno knew that this was the strange shaman definition of clean, and not the usual one, for Mother certainly made him bathe far too often.
As he watched the shaman carefully arrange his mother’s treasures on what looked like a small funeral pyre, Nezhno finally realized the common thread between all the objects.
They were all gifts from his father.
Nezhno bit his lip to keep from crying out as the shaman handed his mother a lit torch, which she dropped onto the pyre. The oil soaked wood caught quickly, consuming everything that had been placed on it, save for a single photograph that seemed to leap out of the blaze on it’s own accord, fluttering on the breeze until it landed at Nezhno’s feet. The boy quickly stomped out the embers that had latched on, eating away at the image, and though he was too late to save his mother, his father remained untouched, ever smiling.
Nezhno tucked the photograph away, though he wasn’t sure why, and watched the fire eat away at everything else.