Battle is an Art

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Fantasy Realm

And this has also been rewritten, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2 (v.2) - Clearing the Canvas

Submitted: September 09, 2019

Reads: 11

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 09, 2019



“I’m home!” 

“You’ve finally gotten yourself expelled I see.” A charmingly, smooth and masculine voice greeted Herah. 

“You say that as if the brat didn’t just intentionally drop out of school.” A distinctly brash, yet feminine voice, much like Herah’s own responded back. 

Herah walked into her house and was immediately greeted with a pair of aquamarine and emerald eyes, from her father and mother respectively, staring her down. Her father, Orange, a well built and muscled Cendreux with shiny orange scales covering his entire body, was standing in the kitchen chewing some meat. Herah’s mother, Rouge, a much slimmer but still muscled, red-colored Cendreux of the same vein as her daughter, was sitting on their couch glaring. Annoyance and disappointment filled her eyes, causing Herah to glare back with a light blush upon her cheeks. 

Herah then looked back to her father, rolling her eyes at his clothing. Orange was wearing a light blue polo shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned, and his khaki slacks that had a few new rips and tears. Noticing his daughter’s staring eyes, the father turned his smile towards her. Orange then used his tail to run through his dark orange unruly, neck length hair before pointing towards Rouge with the four-foot appendage. 

Turning to her mother, Herah found her now standing up with her glare still going, a snarl in place, and her arms crossed. This allowed the youngling to fully see Rouge’s green tunic, which had a few black stains on its sleeves and the scent of gunpowder and oil wafting from it. 

Herah said nothing else, choosing instead to walk into their modest two-story house and throw her backpack next to her couch. The youngling then walked into the kitchen, her empty stomach leading her forward. 

Their kitchen was small, it’s yellow walls and green marble countertops only able to fit four Cendreux into it at any given time, which was perfectly fine since there was only the three. The navy tiled floor was cool to the touch, something Herah found soothing to her bare feet. There was some meat defrosting on the center area, a marble top that was the same color as the counters, that fit right in the middle of the kitchen. Orange was standing at the bar still chewing on the meat from earlier when Herah walked up to him and asked a question. 

“Hey dad, what’re you eating?” 

Orange looked back at his daughter and, still chewing, responded. 


“Where does it come from?” 


“What animal?” 

“The type you eat.” 



Herah just rolled her eyes at her father’s antics while going over to the meat on the center area and taking a sniff. 

“That vendetta against boars you have is never ending I see.” 

“If it oinks it must die.” Orange’s casual tone causing his daughter to look back at him and roll her eyes once again at his pleased smirk. 

Popping a single claw, Herah carved into the slightly frozen pork on the counter and ripped away a chunk of meat. Tossing it into her mouth, the youngling let out a slightly pleased moan at the taste of the cold pig. 

“Heard you got into a fight with that bitch Rose.” Rouge, now leaning on the kitchen bar continued to glare at her daughter. 

“I did.” Herah responded, glaring back at her mother while leaning back on the center area within the kitchen. 

“Did you win?” Rouge lazily ran a finger back and forth across the bar-top, her eyes running over her daughter’s messy and shirtless form. 

“Of course.” Herah’s short reply being followed by her beginning to pick at her teeth with the same claw from earlier, her eyes staring deep into her mother’s own. 

“Sounds like you knew you were going to win?” Rouge verbally poked at her daughter, now looking over to Orange who was still peacefully chewing upon his tendon with his eyes now closed. 

“I did.” Herah’s quick and assured reply caused her mother’s left brow to go up in slight curiosity. 

“And why did you think that?” Rogue asked with a small, curious smile coming to her face. 

“Because Rose is a Manquent de Chaleur.” Herah answered, staring her mother right in the eyes. 

“So what?” Rose’s tone took a sharp turn, as her nostrils flared with smoke, ”I’m one myself.” 

“Well, in general, you heretics can’t fight.” 

Rose leaned over the bar-top, a vicious smile coming to her face to show off every single one of her pearly fangs. 

“That sounds like an insult.” 

Herah responded with her own smile. 

“Because it was,” The youngling tilted her head slightly to the side, “And it’s also a fact.” 

“Oh dear daughter,” Rose claws popped out, stabbing into the marble bar top as indigo flames flared from her nostrils. “I’d watch my words if I was you. I’m already pissed at you for dropping out, I’d hate to get angrier.” 

“Mom,” Herah shook her head, her smile growing wider as her claws popped out and stabbed into the marble on which her body leaned upon, “You know threats like that don’t work against me.” 

“Maybe a hole in your chest would work better.” 

“Oh you want to fight mom? I’d happily oblige.” 

Rose growled, flames of indigo beginning to leak from her mouth as her smile stretched as far as it could. 

“Ooh, seems like this little bitch’s ego grew at tad bit. It’s almost as if someone here has forgotten her eight thousand to two lose/win ratio against me ” 

Herah’s smile disappeared as her own growl left her, green fire beginning to leak from the sides of her own snarl. 

“Piss off! You’re not unbeatable.” 

“You want to try me?” Rouge growled out flames of indigo now pouring from her eyes. 

“Damn right!” Herah shouted back, green fire spewing up from her eyes. 

“Then let’s go you little shi-” 


Orange’s tail shot through the bar counter while his right hand darted towards Herah’s face, his claw just tapping his daughter’s chin as the tip of his tail stopped a measly millimeter before his wife’s eye. Both Herah and Rouge began to breathe hard, puffs of cool air coming out of their normally warm mouths. Alongside this, the pair’s pupils were forced from their normally slit states, and into a larger, more circular form. The cold bite of frost began to form on the red duos’ scales and clothing, slowly creeping up from their legs and towards their heads. 

Herah was terrified, her father’s Presence rapidly changing from playful and nice to deadly and bloodthirsty. Both her and her mother stared at Orange, who was the only thing seemingly unaffected by the sudden shift in temperature of the room. His eyes were now open once again, but now both glowed aquamarine and lacked pupils. The father then shifted his eyes back and forth between them, a neutral expression adorning his face. 

“No fighting in the house.” Orange’s voice came out monotone and uncaring, though there was also a quiet threat hidden underneath. “And neither of you will be fighting until after we have a little chat. So why don’t you both go into the living room and have a seat?” 

The elder Cendreux then moved his claw and tail away from his family. Almost immediately, the room returned to its original temperature, the frost disappearing as it had came. The only evidence of what had occurred ever happening being the two Cendreux still catching their breath. 

Once back to normal, Rouge gave a small huff and walked back over to the couch while Herah began to say something before stopping herself and grabbing some more food instead. 

‘Don’t know how the ash you do that or what you’re doing dad, but damn do I hate when you do it.’ Herah thought to herself as her feet took her out of the kitchen and into her living room. 

The living room was much larger than where the youngling had just left, it’s deep black walls and crimson red floor having two and a half times as much space as the kitchen to cover. 

Since said living room was directly connected to the kitchen, the only separation being the bar, Rouge and Orange only had to take three steps to reach the orange couch after passing the bar. Orange sat down on said couch, and laid his feet atop the brown coffee table right in front of it, ignoring the TV that was in front of that. The red recliner was a suitable distance to the right of the coffee table, Rouge walking over to it and sitting down while also turning her head to silently glare past the brown lamp and lamp stand just on the left of her and out the window behind it. The pink loveseat was to the left of the coffee table and facing the recliner, with two red pillows of which Herah went to lay against. 

A tense silence settled over the trio, as Herah and her mother soon began glaring each down while Orange closed his eyes once more while resting his chin in one of his hands with a contemplative look on his face. 

“Would both of you please cut out the glaring?” Orange cut through the silence with an annoyed plea, “We’re supposed to be having a chat.” 

For a moment, Herah didn’t break eye contact with her mother but- 


-the sudden sound of a claw unsheathing caused her and Rouge to turn to Orange, who still had his eyes closed. But Herah didn’t care for that, what her attention was on was her father’s right hand, the one holding up his head. A single one of its claws had popped up. 

“My little flame and my precious tinder,” Norwe’s voice came out calm but heavy, “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.” 

“Sorry Dad.” 

“Sorry Sweety.” 

The mother and daughter duo both apologized abashedly, causing Orange to sheathe his claw and smile at the pair. 

“Now Herah-” 

“Yes dad?” 

“I think we need to figure out what to do with you now since Noir has already contacted us ahead of your arrival to inform of your now schoolless status.” Orange opened his eyes and brought his hand down from his head before giving his daughter a warm smile. 

“Wanted to cover his own ass I bet.” Herah said under her breath before sighing. “Well what do you wan-” 

“Actually,” Rouge cut in, turning to Orange, “I would prefer we first talk about why exactly our daughter here has decided to spit in our fucking faces.” 

“Rouge.” Orange’s voice took on a warning tone, but Rouge held up hand before jabbing the other towards her daughter. 

“I’m sorry but I would actually like to hear the reasoning our daughter has for just dropping out of the school, spontaneously if I might add, that we,” Rouge pointed between herself and Orange, “Me and you, went through the trouble of getting her into. We deserve that at least don’t we?” 

Herah watched as her father gave her mother a contemplative look before shrugging his shoulders and turning to her in expectance. 

“I was learning nothing of value there.” Herah said, crossing her arms and lifting her chin. 

“Yeah, it’s kinda hard to learn when you refuse to be taught.” Rose replied, her expression displeased and her tone mocking. “Ash, the only reason you passed your classes last cycle was because you threatened all your teachers.” 

“Which was actually quite impressive.” 

Herah watched as her mother turned a glare onto her father, causing him to shrug and put his hands up. 

“I’m just saying, the age of her teachers range from three to seven hundred. The fact that all but one of them felt threatened by our daughter is impressive.” 

“But not helpful.” Rouge growled out at her husband, before turning back to Herah, “That school could have taught you far better than I or your father on how to use your science, better control your body, fly with less air resistance, ash learn more about the very thing you want to do with your life! But after a cycle and a half there, you’ve learned nothing!” 

“I refuse to let the weak-willed teach me.” Herah responded her nose flaring as smoke shot from it. 

“Sometimes you have to make compromises.” 

“I refuse to compromise on my beliefs.” Herah told her mother, a frown on her face. 

Indigo flames flared from Rouge’s mouth, eyes, and nose, as the elder seemed to just barely hold herself back from leaping at her daughter. 

“You know what, since you seem so fucking sure on what you’re not going to do, why don’t you tell us where you plan to go next?” 

Herah paused for a moment, her face going blank before being engulfed by a blush. 

‘I- I don’t know what to do next.’ The youngling thought to herself, before realizing that her mother undoubtedly knew this. 

“You didn’t think ahead, did you?” Herah returned her attention back to her mom, who was now standing in front of her, wagging a finger in her face. Growling and biting at the extended digit, Herah watched as her mother moved her finger out of the way before smirking condescendingly down upon her. The youngling began to shake, blushing all the deeper. 

“Shut up!” 

“Make me!” 


“Don’t throw a tantrum now, it’s not my fault you’re an idiot.” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Well, you’re the only one getting fucked right now. You don’t even know what to do with yourself! In fact, I bet you wo-“ 

Herah watched as her mother froze terrified, frost rapidly emerging from the right side of Rouge’s body to cover the rest. Turning to her father, Herah saw his eyes glowing and pupilless once more, a snarl having emerged onto his face. 

“My precious tinder,” Orange’s voice once again was cold and unfeeling, “Come over to me please.” 

Rouge came over to her husband slowly, the uncomfortable frost clearly draining her of her normal speed and vigor. Looking at her father, Herah realized his predatory Presence had washed over her and her mother before either realized it, the youngling had just not been the focus. Once Rouge made it to Orange, the husband patted the spot next to him on the orange couch causing his wife to plop down next to him. 


Orange hooked a claw around one of his wife’s frozen horns, turning her head so that her fearful eyes could stare into his furious ones. 

“Stop verbally assaulting our daughter. I know you’re frustrated with her, but acting like a cunt isn’t going to make you or anyone else here right now happy. You’re an elder, not a youngling, show some restraint.” 

Herah let out an assured breath as her father redrew his Presence, his glare and snarl losing all anger in the process and transforming into a knowing look. 

“Just tell our precious flame what’s bothering you. We get nowhere when you two just yell at each other.” 

Rose looked away from both Herah and Orange, a frown coming over her face as the frost left her body. For a few moments, the mother stayed that way and then turned to Herah with her frown still in place. This time, however, it lacked anger and hostility and seemed more unsure. Letting out a breath, Rouge began to speak, her tone now calmer and quieter. 

“I’m not apologizing for what I said, but I will say I might’ve been a bit unreasonable. It’s just,” Rouge looked away from Herah, and let out another breath before continuing, “I’m afraid that you are too reactive.” 

Rouge looked down to her own hands. 

“My precious flame, I see, so much of myself in you. You’re arrogant, stubborn, single-minded, unfiltered, unwavering, and proud.” Rouge smiled to herself, before looking back up to her daughter, “And these very things I see inside of you I love, but at the same time I know that they make this a terrible reality for you to live in.” 

Herah gained a confused look as her mother raised a hand and pointed towards her. 

“You’re going to be the biggest enemy you ever face, because you make your hardest problems yourself.” 

Herah frowned at her mom, causing the elder to shake her head and smile weakly at her. 

“Remember those blacksmiths we took you to? Remember why they all turned you down/” 

“Well it was for a variety of reasons.” Herah began, looking away from her mother as the reasons came to mind, “I punched one in the balls. I called another a poltron to the face. I got into a shouting match with a few more. And I ate one of their swords.” 

“And what does each of those situations have in common?” 

“They ended with dad having to freeze me and the smith to prevent a murder?” 

Orange and Rouge chuckled. 

“You’re right, but that’s not the answer I was looking for.” 

“That answer is?” 

Rouge got up and walked over to Herah before crouching down before her daughter and looking her square in the eyes. 

“You started it.” 

Herah’s frown deepened as her blush returned and her eyes darted away from her mom. 

“You reacted in the heat of the moment and closed those doors. Just like you did today. Just like you’ll surely do going forward. And it’s all because you only ever consider the now and the distant future, never the in between, and that keeps biting you in the ass.” 

Rouge then got up and crossed her arms, looking away from her daughter who had yet to turn back to face her. Both stayed like this until Herah found her face turned back towards her mother by her father, who was giving the two his “makeup” stare. Mother and daughter looked at each other, pensive expressions covering each of their faces. Their standoff continued for a few seconds more until Rouge awkwardly opened up her arms and gestured towards herself with her hands. 

“Come here.” 

Herah looked at her mother for a few more seconds before awkwardly shuffling up to and just as awkwardly hugging her. Orange, seeing this, gave a big happy smile, showing each and every single one of his blood-covered fangs to the two hugging Cendreux. 

“See isn’t that better. You two may argue all the time, but we’ll always end up here. No shouting, no anger, just hugging.” Orange laughed to himself, “Now get ready for me, cause I’m coming in for my own.” Orange said, his voice back down to its original smoothness. 

The elder then crushed the hugging duo in a hug of his own. Though Rouge was taller, being eight-ten compared to his seven-eleven, Orange’s naturally superior strength allowed him to lift up both his wife and child, and swing them around in a circle. 

Twenty times that is. 

After all twenty spins, Orange sat his spouse and daughter down, the pair stumbling a fair bit before regaining their balance. Once done, all three Cendreuxes looked at each other in silence for a few moments. 

Then Rouge let out a snort. 

Herah chuckled. 

Orange barely held back a laugh. 

All three broke down in laughter. 

Once the laughs pittered out, the family of three went over to the orange couch and sat down before beginning to talk. The talk went on for half an hour, as the trio tried to figure out what to do with Herah. 

“Maybe it’s time I introduce you to a friend of mine. I’ve been wanting to keep a distance between you two for a while now, but her work is the best I’ve ever seen.” 

“Really?” Herah and Rose both asked. 

“Yeah, in fact, they made my hammer.” 

“Really!?” Herah leaped up with a wide smile, “Why haven’t you mentioned her befo-” 


“Dammit Jeffery!” 

Herah shouted this as the sound of glass shattering was heard. The figure in question was swiped out of the air as they tried to fly by the youngling. Rouge looked at their now shattered living room window, then back to her daughter with a look that was clearly not amused. 

“You’re fixing that.” 

Herah snarled and threw Jeffery at her father, walking over to her backpack to get supplies. Orange caught Jeffery with one hand, laid them across his lap, and began to rub their spine while speaking to his kid. 

“You should treat your art supplies better little flame,” Orange then threw Jeffery back to Herah while giving her a smirk, “I hear it’s unbelievably hard to get your hands on giant pencils nowadays, some might even say impossible.” 

Herah caught Jeffery with her free hand, the other occupied by a sketchbook and pencil. The youngling then twirled the giant pencil and tossed them into the air. 

“Stay still.” 

Jeffery righted themselves in the air and froze. Herah gave the pencil a glare, looking them up and down to get her point across. This examination also allowed her to make sure nothing new had been added to her creation, especially red, as would often happen when they were left alone. 

Jeffery was still the same color of an average pencil, no spots or lines of any other color running across their orange jacket. The pencil’s eraser was also still red, no signs of discoloration or the sort which made Herah happy. Jeffery was still six-four, and they were no thicker or thinner. The last thing Herah checked for was her creation’s lead, which was still as sharp as possible. 

Seeing that Jeffery had no changes (that were perceivable by her at least) made to them, Herah turned back to the broken window and tossed her normal-sized pencil into her now unoccupied hand. After giving the window a bit of an examination, Herah began to sketch a new fixed version of it. 

The design was simple enough for Herah, a square broken up into a two by two grid that had a wisp lantern on each section. 

Herah finished the sketch in a second, her hand blurring as it drew each detail down to the exact scale. Once done with that, the artist began to shade her drawing in, this taking just a bit longer than the sketch process. After the shading was done, Herah erased the sketch lines and found herself with a drawing that replicated the unbroken state of the living room window perfectly. After judging and finding her drawing to her liking, the youngling tapped it with the butt of her pencil, and felt the taste of paint fill her mouth. A brief glow covered the paper, with the page seeming to slowly push out the drawing that grew into an exact replica of the original window. 

“Jeffery, help me install this.” 

Said pencil flew over to the broken window and began running their eraser over it. And as the head ran over the window, it erased the very thing from existence until only a square opening remained. Seeing this, Herah lifted up the new window without even a grunt and slid it into place. The youngling then looked at Jeffery and nodded her head. The giant pencil in response to this outlined the new installation and then tapped said outline with their head. It gave a brief glow and then sealed the window into place. 

Throughout the entirety of this, Rouge and Orange just watched in silence with a small tinge of wonder filling the mother’s eyes and amusement filling Orange’s. After the youngling finished, her mother walked over to the window and gave it and the area around it a light shove. Seeing everything still in place, Rouge let out a small whistle and turned to Herah, her face dancing between subtle joy and wonder in rapid succession. 

“No matter how many times I see it at work, I always find your Traduire fascinating.” 

Rouge then shook her head and began to walk out of the room. 

“We can finish talking about what to do with Herah later, I’m going to go take a nap. Care to join me, sweety?” 

With the question clearly meant for Orange, the father gave his wife a brief look then shrugged. Orange got up and followed Rouge, giving Herah a wide, fatherly smile as the two left the living room and went up the stairs to their bedroom. The daughter watched this then turned to Jeffery (who was just floating in the air beside her) and glared at them. Noticing their creator’s look, the oversized pencil flew over to one of the walls and began writing. Once Jeffery was finished the message came out to be: What? You want to go? Cause I’ll go right now. Herah read the message then glared even harder at her creation. 


¨Ouch! Dammit Jeffery, that hurt!” 

Herah rubbed the top of her head as a bruise formed where the pencil had hit her with their eraser. Before any form of retaliation could occur, Herah let out a groan and doubled over holding her guts as shock overcame her. Her abdomen had suddenly flared with agony as the nerves reconnected and the pain that was meant to be felt earlier from Rose’s flurry of punches came back with a vengeance. 

‘Shit, I always hate when Reunir occurs.’ Herah thought to herself as her legs shook and her knees nearly fell to the floor. 

Jeffery, seeing this, quickly erased what they wrote on the wall and flew over to Herah, allowing their creator to lean on them for support. Herah gave a few wobbly steps before falling over, Jeffery darting under her arms being the only thing that stopped her from being splayed across the red floor. 

With both of her pits resting atop the giant writing utensil, Herah was raised from the first floor to the second, completely bypassing the stairs and guardrail. After reaching the second floor, Jeffery flew Herah down the decently sized hallway. The walls were lined with a variety of hunting trophies her father had created, mostly metallic boar heads and tusk, and a few of her mother’s gun designs. Passing all of this, Jeffery eventually stopped at the door to Herah’s room. Realizing this, the youngling used one of her arms to open the door then allowed her pencil to carry her in. 

The smell of paint, fresh and old filled Herah’s nose at her entrance to the masterpiece that was her room. Originally, it had been completely white, but her artistic nature had caused her to treat it as just a massive canvas so exactly that it had become. The floor itself was covered in splotches of dry paint, each varying in size, look and texture to create explosions of colors all over it. 

The very walls of the room, while having that same explosion of color on them, found themselves covered by a diverse range of murals, with no real organization apparent. Some were depicting battlefields where Cendreuxes were shown battling against either large reptilian creatures with massive wings that were often breathing fire or snapping at their foes or of smaller more bird-like lizards that could each be found breathing out blasts of varying colors or shooting up from the ground. Other pieces showed full-body paintings of different Cendreux’s, many wielding a weapon of some kind while also holding in their hands a wisp lantern. Another subject that was featured heavily in Herah’s works was that of the many inventions and creations of her own people, often in a surrealistic or hyper-realistic form. Weapons built to slay the kin that her people fought in her other works or to destroy worlds, armor built to withstand dips into black holes or the collision of two planets, tools to harvest and store science, ore and food, even things such as the plumbing system and the camera were shown. 

Herah smiled at this before her eyes drifted to one particular wall, that was right in front of her bed. 

It was the only wall in the room that was mostly white. 

It was the only wall in the room that contained only a single subject matter. 

It was the only wall in the room that showed her pursuing her future job. 

It was the only wall in the room that displayed diagrams. 

Diagrams, upon diagrams, upon diagrams. 

Each one showing an obscenely detailed, well thought out, and creative weapon or piece of armor. 

The weapons ranged from swords, spears, daggers, staffs, hammers, maces, halberds, weaponized gauntlets, and even some unconventional things such as a yo-yo or ball. The armor ranged from helmets, greaves, boots, leggings, shields, breastplates, normal gauntlets, pauldrons, and even odd things like bras and underwear. The materials all these things were constructed form also had their own range; be it metal, bone, leather, crystals, obsidian, even string, water or lava could be seen. 

This wall was one of Herah’s most prized possessions and one of the two named artworks to her room. 

“Rêves d'un Smith.” The youngling said to herself with a small chuckle before breathing an eyeball sized fireball and having it hover over a now raised digit. “I fucking love the name dad gave you.” 

Herah then flicked the fireball at the wall, causing all the black lines of the diagrams to turn blue and glow softly. 

“Oh mistress, I love doing that.” 

Jeffery then took their creator over to her bed (passing by a shelf with a few fully colored models and busts of Cendreuxes sitting upon it) before setting her down next to it and in front of a full-body mirror which showed her in all her messy glory. Thanks to the brief trip up to her room and a few deep breaths, the crippling pain Herah felt had turned into a light throb allowing her to stand on her own with only slight issue. 

This also meant the youngling could now feel completely dissatisfied with her current look. 

“Hey Jeffey?” 

The pencil, which had been busy scribbling all over the floor completely froze in their activity. 

“Mind erasing, this debris and blood off me?” Herah asked, holding her arms up to form a t-pose. 

Jeffery flew in front of Herah and wrote upon the air, their message reading: Why should I? 

“Could you not be a smartass right now and just erase this shit off me!?” Herah yelled, jets of smoke shooting from her flaring nostrils. 

Instead of doing their normal thing and just whacking their creator across the head once more, Jeffery actually just obeyed and, faster than Herah could react, erased all the dust and blood that caked her body. 

Well, erased that and a little more. 


The pencil floated in front of Herah, showing no clear response to their creator's words but the youngling knew they heard her. 

“Did you have to erase my pants alongside everything else?” 

Now Herah stared at her own reflection, an eye twitching and snarl barely being held back, which now had its pants completely gone showing that her preferred state of undergarments meant going commando. 

Jeffery, having already erased their previous message, wrote another one. It simply read: Of course not. 

“I’ll kill you!” 

Herah then began chasing the pencil around her room for a few minutes, only stopping because of Rouge yelling at them to do such. After this and a prolonged angry glare, the youngling decided to lay in her bed for a quick nap after seeing that it was around evening. Laying down on her back, Herah noticed Jeffery float into her bed and begin spinning next to her. Paying the oversized pencil no mind, Herah stared at her ceiling. 

When compared to the walls, Herah’s ceiling was an oddity. This was because it was covered in only a single art piece; a real-time, mentally manipulated display of her solar system. It had cost the artist an arm and a leg, but it had been considered a worthy endeavor. 

“Carte de Tout c'qui Nous Appartient.” Herah said, the map glowing just a bit brighter before resuming its normal look. 

The centerpiece, also being the center of the system, was the white dwarf star named Ellon. Ellon had four paths of orbit around it, or four layers, and on the first layer was Herah’s homeworld, Incendié. 

Incendié wasn’t much larger than Ellon, and was one of three planets with life on it that orbited the star. Incendié’s model was mostly a grainy grey, with a small blue octagon to the left of the north pole, representing the only significant body of water for the planet. There was also a slightly larger perfectly round green circle, located right on the equator of the Incendié. 

Directly across from Incendié and on the same layer, was the planet simply named Silex. Silex, when compared to Incendié, was mostly green with quite a few pockets of blue. 

The next planet was on the layer after the ones before it, and this one was completely green. This planet was four times larger than Silex, and it had been named Toxique 

The final planet, this one located on the final layer, was named Bious. Bious was by far the largest, twelve times the size of Incendié in fact. Thanks to her own insanely accurate eyes, Herah could tell that Bious was constantly growing at a rather small pace. Bious itself was mostly blue with large chunks of green covering the rest of it. 

After quietly observing her map, Herah chose to focus on Incendié and with a wave of her hand made the map zoom in on the planet until it showed her lying in bed and staring up. Herah watched as Jeffery lazily spun themselves next to her, trying to think about what was to be her next course of action for her future. 


Herah let out a gasp of surprise as the ceiling showed a mass of black appear in front of her door, causing the youngling to look up and stare at it. As soon as Herah did this, the youngling felt herself pulled towards and into said mass of black. 


But before Herah could finish, her body was sucked in, leaving the room with only Jeffery inside. 

With their creator gone, Jeffery floated into the air and down to the living room, grabbing Herah’s backpack before zooming back up the stairs. After making it back into the room, Jeffery organized a few supplies. Once done with this, the pencil flew into their creator’s parent’s room. 

After an awkward pause, Jeffery wrote out a message to the duo about what had happened to Herah, causing Orange to quickly redress and secure the bag to Jeffery. After this was done, Jeffery shot out of the ceiling, leaving a substantial hole in their wake as they left to help Herah. 

Rouge saw the hole, herself now dressed, a bit worried about her daughter but also miffed about the damages and told no one in particular two words. 

“Dammit Jeffery.” 


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