"Such a genius!" Lord Flinn exclaimed.
He had just seen his 5-year-old daughter perform a tier 3 wind strike spell effortlessly and hit a tree bark just a meter away from her. Every day from the time she could walk, she practiced magic till sunset and then she would finally rest.
No one in the mansion knew how or when Annabeth learned any magic at all, but as soon as they saw she was good at it, they all decided to teach her what they could. At age 3 she could effortlessly carry out tier 1 magic... moving small objects like leaves with the wind. Tier 2 magic, involving simple chores like sweeping, drying and cooling hot things using wind magic came to her at the age of 4.
Most children could only perform tier 1 magic at the age of 6 but would learn tier 2 magic at the age of 8 or so. Learning this kind of magic at earlier ages only meant the child was a genius.
In Annabeth's case, she would be considered as an ultimate genius. Learning battle magic, or tier 3 magic as it was commonly called, at age 5 was simply unheard of. Not even the King of Alibarnair, who was considered as the greatest genius at the time could compare to Annabeth since he had learned tier 3 magic at the age of 8.
"Munchkin you should have a break now," Lord Flinn suggested.
Although he knew his daughter hated pet names and taking breaks, he still called her whenever he could.
"Yes father," Annabeth replied, making a little frown and walking towards her father.
Even though he never said it, he would be bothered by how his daughter acted so differently from her agemates. He was in a good mood today so he didn't want to think about it.
"You have really impressed me, my dear. So young and so talented... your mother would be so proud of you," Lord Flinn said as soon as she sat on the other end of the bench in the garden. Saying the latter part of his sentence had taken a little bit of joy from his face.
"I see."
There it was again. That weird speech pattern of an adult from a 5-year-old. Lord Finn could swear this was an adult trapped in a little girl's body. Did he mess up at some point on bringing her up and doomed his daughter to have a coldish personality? or maybe she was possessed... well it could explain her talent...
Lord Flinn shook his head to remove such thoughts from his mind. This was his own daughter he was thinking so fiendishly about. Did he always have to be a negative Nancy all the time and bum himself and everyone out?
Thought after thought kept beating his spirit down until he realized he had ended up creating an awkward silence moment between them.
"Uhm... speaking of your mother, she looked and acted just like you when she was your age. Red hair, elegant, talented and a gentle gaze. She would always smile and was polite to everyone... I'm glad you got your looks from her and not from me, hahaha" Lord Flinn tried to laugh it off... He was good at depressing himself.
Awkward silence.
Crickets chirped away and the sun was setting in the distance.
*Sigh*
"Annabeth... I know its been hard growing without a mother. I know every day is a challenge especially if you have to stick around a depressing father like me. I wish I could promise that things get better, but you're my first child and it seems like I'm clueless on how to be a father most of the time. So I was thinking of remarrying in the hopes of providing you with a motherly figure in your life," Lord Finn said, laying off a mountain-load of stress with just those few lines.
"I do not need a mother," Annabeth replied. Almost seeming irritated.
She did not really hate her dad but she tried to keep some distance so as not to get used to the feeling of having a dad. She had experienced his death twice and was only hoping she could stop a third. According to her previous lives, he would get married the following month and die a few weeks afterward.
"I'm sorry honey, but as your father, providing you with a mother is a duty I must fulfill. In time, you will see how beneficial she will be to our lives."
"If you have already decided, there is nothing I can say about it then," Annabeth replied. She got up and walked into the mansion, heading to her room.
Lord Flinn was stunned a little bit. "This is not how a 5-year-old should think or speak," he thought. Giving off another deep sigh, he stared directly ahead, watching the sunset as his thoughts wandered off to a depressing place as usual.
***
In her bedroom, Annabeth dived onto her bed, face-first into her pillow. After months and months of trying to start practicing battle magic, she was only able to start today.
Magic was released through spells and it depended on understanding the actual spell and having enough magical power to release it. Although she knew a lot about spells having spent enough time as a practitioner, her body did not possess enough magical power to cast higher-tiered spells. Her body just couldn't allow the drawing of magic power for tier 3 spells until today.
She knew she needed to be strong enough to stop her father from dying, this would probably involve killing her father's poisoner. In a week's time, she would turn 6 and a few weeks after the murderer would arrive in her home.
She did not want to kill her father's spouse out of love for her father, she doubted she was that righteous. She just wanted to stop what would follow after her father's death.
Annabeth knew how quickly that friendly attitude of her father's spouse would turn the minute her father passed away. In the past, Annabeth was mistreated and bullied to the point that she had to run away from home. The first time she got captured by bandits, raped and sold off to a man who said he bought slaves and set them free. She didn't believe his words and thought he would be another rapist, so she sliced off his head while he was asleep.
The second time, she ran into the mountains, trained there and lived off wild rodents. She was too obsessed with attaining power to kill the hole punching boy that she did not get her revenge on the causer of her running away from home.
Either way, both cases sucked. She now had a chance to set the record straight.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad curse after all.