POV: Syreene
Location: Apartment in Louxven, Dyonegar
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Syreene shuffled back and forth in front of the bedroom floor mirror as she tied her last pigtail. The depth of her accursed anxiety kept her pacing, and also pushed her back a couple minutes tardy for school. But her brother's atypical attitude left her on edge, and she couldn't shake the possibility that Cabil was in some kind of trouble. This burden of carrying his problems on her shoulders was something she self-induced one hundred percent of the time, and nearly every time, she'd go and try to solve said problems furtively. Today was no different.
She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her tote, and stepped into the hallway with a loud announcement, "Oh, Cabil, I borrowed some of your 'zines from underneath your mattress!" The elfin boldly ignited, her eyes squinting and searching clownishly. "Huh, that usually gets the chase going. He must be working." Even so, her soft-footed steps snuck into his bedroom, the smell of keshess wreaking havoc on her nostrils. She pursed her lips and felt her eyes tingle from the utter chaos of his room. Cabil was usually a neat freak, but the last couple of days had her reconsidering that impression.
Syreene flipped cushions, raided drawers, and dived into his closet without the slightest clue what she was looking for. She made a round through his nightstand, rummaging past books on pyromancy, the martial arts, and poems his mother had given him. But tucked in between the clutter, she pulled out a recent picture of her and Emie, with Emie's side torn off. "Hmm, I don't remember giving this to him." It was strange, she thought, given that Cabil insisted they didn't have any pictures in the apartment. Luckily, she'd convinced him that her room shall remain an exception. "This must have been from the time we went to the cherry blossom festival. But, why is it so sticky?"
Syreene caught the window's glare at the corner of her eye, a dancing shimmer of light bouncing off parchment. From beneath the pillow, a piece of paper called her toward the bed. Her ears perked up, her curiosity quickly unfolding the sheet.
But without warning, a sickening sensation seized her, sending chills down her tightening hold. Thoughts of her biological father mudded her mind with fear, and the longer she studied it, the further engrossed and twisted her face became. Where had she seen this before? It looked like alchemy, and Darith had to have been one of the more inapt alchemists she had known. But this particular science seemed off. "It's almost as if… I saw this exact scroll befo—" She gasped, a loud thud coming from the window dropping her bottom onto the floor.
"Stupid acorns!" she huffed, catching her breath. Syreene took a quick snapshot of the parchment with her handheld and left Cabil's room after a rushed adjustment of his belongings. She headed late for school soon after.
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