The not so relaxing nap is plagued by several events in the life of «Mirror Me». There is no defined chronological order in any of them, and since they are events from his relative perspective. It is difficult to analyze them with absolute partiality.
"What a martyrdom. This won't happen every day. Or will it?". I sit up in the hard edge of the bed, hearing a firm knocking on the door.
The sun hasn't risen yet, but i can see the sky is brightening.
{Who could be searching for me so early?. «This» idiot has no friends}.
"I'm going to enter. You better not be asleep, or naked Little Brother. If so, i'll incinerate your tiny testicles". The feminine voice is serious and haughty, arrogant and scornful even.
The doorknob is surrounded by a purple energetic hue, twisting down and unlocking the entrance with a strong pulling motion as if someone had opened the door from the interior.
The rose fragrance of a Virgin fills my nostrils, seeing the «Motivation» that ignited this quirk in the «Mirror Me». His Elder Sister.
{I understand he learned this illusory smell ability, to prove his Relative wasn't wronged by «Supposedly Bandits» during an ambush in which she lost part of her beauty. What cost her the engagement, new marriage proposals, and any other suitor wanting to court her}.
The Maiden wears the same type of burgundy scaled organic bodysuit. Her long indigo hair is shaved on the left side, the repercussion of the ambush.
But not as noticeable as the remarked bones on her attractive sharp face, having a slight tweak in the upper thick rosaceous lips, twitch with irritation as she clearly woke up earlier of what she is accustomed.
"I'm here as you wanted Little Brother. What do you want to talk about?". She ogles me up an down. Satisfied with the eye-fest she has with my strong ripped frame.
{I have no idea what «He» wanted to discuss with her. I couldn't see what was the content in letter he left for her}
"Vestaria…". I pronounce, immediately seeing she lost her dazed mental delirious, raising an eyebrow in disbelief, and having more than a bit of struggle.
The door is slammed and locked with a wave of purple energy, the sudden change in her attitude comes with an accusation that is issued like an actual proclamation. "You are not my Little Brother".
The disbelief and grudge exudes from her tone. The relationship thay had may not be the greatest and closest, they hadn't seen each other in almost three years, but the «Mirror Me» continues to be her relative.
Something i can't truly relate, as i don't have siblings or more Family. My Mother, and then Father, were all i ever had.
"I am not". I confess earnestly. Seeing how furious is Vestaria. What inspires a stingy pinch that burns in my chest, right in the blue rhombus.
The lilac eyes of Vestaria have narrow constricted pupils, like a reptile. Expected, considering the scales in the fashion style of her clothes, or the doberman ears i saw on the «Barking Bitch». But is this glint glowing in the irises of the Elder Sister what swaps her attitude.
"What did you do?…". She asks. I was about to answer. But her eyes are not on me, if not glued at the rhombus in my chest.
She almost sobs, her hardened expression softening and cracking with whatever she is sighting or hearing, reaching absentmindedly for the bright blue figure in the middle of my pectorals.
The light emitted by the rhombus is deformed into a coarse face like silhouette of the «Mirror Me».
She is wrecked by it, tears flowing from her eyes, rolling down her skin, staining her cheeks as she bursts in a dejected and disconsolate cry.
The fierce beastly aristocrat that entered in the room is nowhere to be seen. Replaced by a vulnerable maiden, whose knees buckle, leaning into me by accident, holding onto my shoulders to stay standing straight.
The moment roots within her, the knees weaver again, sitting next to me to not fall, looking at my chest with a cute pout. "You are an idiot".
{Can she talk to the dead?. It wouldn't be strange in this world. Right?… , Or the «Mirror Me» didn't die?}.
Vestaria removes her hand from my chest, cleaning her the trail of tears, looking at me with mixed emotions. "How did you kill my Little Brother?".
"I beat him with my bare hands. His face ended as a mushy puree".
She blinks, astonished, though i can't pinpoint about what part. "Are you always this upfront?".
"I believe so. Even before the old man taught me…".
"You better not talk like that about «Our» «Venerable Father», or you will get in deep troubles…".
"I'll have it present Vestaria".
"Don't call me like that. Only my Husband and those who rised me, have the privilege of pronouncing my name. «Elder Sister» will do just fine for now".
"I'm not calling you that". I state resolutely with extreme seriousness. "My mother only had me, i'll not staining her legacy. «Vessa», or Vestaria. You are a Bombshell. We are not related. We can marry each other. Or you think your glare was dissimulated and concealed enough to not be noticed by me?".
She blinks, her cheeks flushing dimly, and not for the previous cries.
{The «Mirror Me» suggested this to her?!. I don't know how to feel about that. Am i being manipulated?. How far «He» foresee?. How can i be sure of going through my own path?}.
"Do what you want. My Little Brother was the same…". She grunts deviating her sight.
"Since I have your permission…". I grab her chin, and with no prior warning, i kiss her.
Vestaria is stupefied with the abrupt contact between our lips. Her breath is agitated, and her posture turns stiffer, not knowing how to react.
It was obvious. The meritocratic society of Clamour City is in a medium and mixed development between the upper royalty, the industrial revolution, and the beginnings of the modern age, plus magic.
Which comes along with certain traditions and customs that may look outdated for someone like me. Although. I can take full advantage of this disparity…