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Rox knew her memory had to be damaged. There was so much she remembered, but so much more that were nothing but fragments. How much was memory? How many were empty holes filled in by her mind unable to handle the gap. She didn't have any photos of her parents. Her house had been destroyed after she'd been rescued. She remembered going back. She remembered crying as she fought the rubble, because she couldn't remember seeing anything. She'd found nothing to take with her.
Niff soldiers had taken anything and everything of value, and what was left had been destroyed.
She did, vaguely, remember what her parents looked like. The soldiers who had raised her, the rest of her parents' squad, her uncles and aunts, had pictures they kept close. Most of them were group photos, and they all were in their gear, but she at least had an idea of their faces. She looked for them in the mirror sometimes. But not so much anymore.
She'd spent more of her life with those uncles and aunts. She wasn't sure if any of the names she knew them by where their real names. She wasn't sure if her parents' names were their real names. She just remembered them now by what the others had called them. Hades and Persie. Uncle Spiro was the one who had gotten her to safety when what was left of Galahd fell. He was the last to die. Uncle Tryfon and Nik had been the leaders of the squad. Uncle Tryfon taught her to shoot. Uncle Nik taught her to fight. Aunt Demi taught her how to combat wounds in the field, showed her how to read the land. And Aunt Hella taught her how to read the stars and how to defuse bombs. Uncle Spiro told all the stories. Galahdian stories, stories about life before war, stories about life before daemons. He was the oldest of them, and his stories became rarer the more the younger ones died, but he lived.
They lost Tryfon first. Nik took it hard, having lost his love and partner. Demi died saving Nik's life, but he wasn't long for the world after that. Hella and Spiro were all she had left for a time, but when Hella died swarmed by MTs...
The moment the Lucians finally showed up, Spiro stopped at nothing to get Rox to them. He held the line, dying a hero in Rox's eyes, as the Lucians got her on their ships and away.
It changed her. She knew Spiro had died happy, probably, but no one was allowed to 'die a hero' anymore. Not around her anyway. She had so much anger in her, so when she got the offer to become a kingsglaive from King Regis, she took it. Without question.
One could call her behavior 'mothering' but Rox hadn't viewed it that way. She didn't know how to be a parent. She knew how to be a soldier. How important it was to keep your comrades alive. What happened to a squad when you lost your partners. She had to leave the kingsglaives and become older and wiser to realize that some of the foolhardy wanted glorious deaths. Wanted to die doing something with meaning, rather than living like the refuse bogging down another country's sewers. But at the time, she couldn't stand for it. Not one bit.
No wonder she found herself within Nyx Ulric's range. He had a similar bad habit. A refusal to die and a refusal to let others die around him. Not that they could stop it, but fuck did they they try. That first time they met...
~~~
Rox broke rank, as was her wont, when she warped right into a group of MTs that had surrounded one of the younger glaives below the mages. She stabbed one in the chest and used her blade as a conduit for an explosion of lightning that felled the lot. Her auburn hair was wild and still crackling.
Niff soldiers had taken anything and everything of value, and what was left had been destroyed.
She did, vaguely, remember what her parents looked like. The soldiers who had raised her, the rest of her parents' squad, her uncles and aunts, had pictures they kept close. Most of them were group photos, and they all were in their gear, but she at least had an idea of their faces. She looked for them in the mirror sometimes. But not so much anymore.
She'd spent more of her life with those uncles and aunts. She wasn't sure if any of the names she knew them by where their real names. She wasn't sure if her parents' names were their real names. She just remembered them now by what the others had called them. Hades and Persie. Uncle Spiro was the one who had gotten her to safety when what was left of Galahd fell. He was the last to die. Uncle Tryfon and Nik had been the leaders of the squad. Uncle Tryfon taught her to shoot. Uncle Nik taught her to fight. Aunt Demi taught her how to combat wounds in the field, showed her how to read the land. And Aunt Hella taught her how to read the stars and how to defuse bombs. Uncle Spiro told all the stories. Galahdian stories, stories about life before war, stories about life before daemons. He was the oldest of them, and his stories became rarer the more the younger ones died, but he lived.
They lost Tryfon first. Nik took it hard, having lost his love and partner. Demi died saving Nik's life, but he wasn't long for the world after that. Hella and Spiro were all she had left for a time, but when Hella died swarmed by MTs...
The moment the Lucians finally showed up, Spiro stopped at nothing to get Rox to them. He held the line, dying a hero in Rox's eyes, as the Lucians got her on their ships and away.
It changed her. She knew Spiro had died happy, probably, but no one was allowed to 'die a hero' anymore. Not around her anyway. She had so much anger in her, so when she got the offer to become a kingsglaive from King Regis, she took it. Without question.
One could call her behavior 'mothering' but Rox hadn't viewed it that way. She didn't know how to be a parent. She knew how to be a soldier. How important it was to keep your comrades alive. What happened to a squad when you lost your partners. She had to leave the kingsglaives and become older and wiser to realize that some of the foolhardy wanted glorious deaths. Wanted to die doing something with meaning, rather than living like the refuse bogging down another country's sewers. But at the time, she couldn't stand for it. Not one bit.
No wonder she found herself within Nyx Ulric's range. He had a similar bad habit. A refusal to die and a refusal to let others die around him. Not that they could stop it, but fuck did they they try. That first time they met...
~~~
Rox broke rank, as was her wont, when she warped right into a group of MTs that had surrounded one of the younger glaives below the mages. She stabbed one in the chest and used her blade as a conduit for an explosion of lightning that felled the lot. Her auburn hair was wild and still crackling.
