Orion's Nebular
Orion
"What to do with it, what to do? So many choices so very many," he asked himself though it was a question for the others.
"I say death to the child before it can take after the mother. Or sell it to someone, sure that beings would find use of it," another said.
"Why do you two refer to her as it? Anyway, I'd be glad to raise her myself because killing or selling her would be wrong."
"You can't raise it. This will taint us three if it fails in anyway," the second of them growled causing the third to flinch.
"No, no, I'm intrigued by this. It could serve a purpose for us. Well more like an answer," the first of them said, amused by the situation, "Riddle me this: how are you going to raise it and lead?"
"I'll find a way, don't underestimate me," she said while the first put the child in her arms.
"She'll go soft and we'll need to replace her. You know that, right? This is a bad idea and we all know it. You can always just give it to the breeders."
"No, I want to see how this unfolds. We need heirs to out thrones and this little experiment will see if we can raise our own. But if she does go soft it won't be hard to replace her."
~~•°•~{seven years later}~•°•~~
The child had grown from the weak, sickly babe to a strong fighter. Over the years the child also became different, thorns grew from her arms and sometimes, if she was lucky, they'd have black roses blossom.
"Mirosa, Mirosa, I diiiid it, I diiiiid it. I hit bullseye everytime. They didn't have to do that again," she squeaked with happiness as the younger female entered her mother's office.
"Very good little one, quite the assassin your becoming," she smiled while looking over to her, "What happened to your thorns?"
"Oh, Reaper got annoyed with me so cut them. She's in the infirmary now."
"What did you do to her?"
"Cut off her arm."
The woman rubbed her temples, perplexed as to why her daughter did that. "They were just thorns, they can grow back. Her arm won't."
"They'll make her one then. She deserved it."
Before she could say anything more about how you can't just cut off people's arms if they do that when the second came into her office.
"I presume you heard what the little one did North Star," he grumbled as he stopped in front of her desk, "He really isn't happy about this."
North stood up, "Go," she said to her daughter before looking to two, "Let's go get this over with."
The little one, as she was known by most, ran out of the office before hearing anything else. These meetings had been very common over the past seven year. Any small screw up and North Star would have an ear full from the second but the first would just comment or say it was interesting. Anywho, the little one went past the infirmary.
"Little one," a voice came from the enterence, "How are the thorns? Hope I didn't do too much damage."
"Grim Reaper. How's the arm? Hope it doesn't shock you," she growled. She heard a few footsteps come closer to her. Grim growled slightly.
"Your Mirosa won't be able to keep you here much longer, I'll make sure of it."
"Jealousy doesn't look good on you. My Mirosa isn't the reason I'm still here. I'm here because I'm one of the best assassin trainee," she responded, taking a step forwards. The pair were about to start throwing punches.
"Woo now you two," a new voice said. It was the voice of a young male, "I don't want Grim to die."
"As if I'd die at the hands of the runt," she said before taking a few steps back.
"Hey Patchwork. He is right, you'd be the one who'd die. Today already showed I attack first."
With an annoyed grunt, Grim went back into the infirmary. Once out of sight the two burst out laughing.
"Thornie, how haven't you gotten yourself killed yet? You've made enemies with every kid in our class."
"Almost every kid. You are my friend and that won't change."
"Well when your as lonely as me then you take what you can get, even if they are three years younger than me."
"I say death to the child before it can take after the mother. Or sell it to someone, sure that beings would find use of it," another said.
"Why do you two refer to her as it? Anyway, I'd be glad to raise her myself because killing or selling her would be wrong."
"You can't raise it. This will taint us three if it fails in anyway," the second of them growled causing the third to flinch.
"No, no, I'm intrigued by this. It could serve a purpose for us. Well more like an answer," the first of them said, amused by the situation, "Riddle me this: how are you going to raise it and lead?"
"I'll find a way, don't underestimate me," she said while the first put the child in her arms.
"She'll go soft and we'll need to replace her. You know that, right? This is a bad idea and we all know it. You can always just give it to the breeders."
"No, I want to see how this unfolds. We need heirs to out thrones and this little experiment will see if we can raise our own. But if she does go soft it won't be hard to replace her."
~~•°•~{seven years later}~•°•~~
The child had grown from the weak, sickly babe to a strong fighter. Over the years the child also became different, thorns grew from her arms and sometimes, if she was lucky, they'd have black roses blossom.
"Mirosa, Mirosa, I diiiid it, I diiiiid it. I hit bullseye everytime. They didn't have to do that again," she squeaked with happiness as the younger female entered her mother's office.
"Very good little one, quite the assassin your becoming," she smiled while looking over to her, "What happened to your thorns?"
"Oh, Reaper got annoyed with me so cut them. She's in the infirmary now."
"What did you do to her?"
"Cut off her arm."
The woman rubbed her temples, perplexed as to why her daughter did that. "They were just thorns, they can grow back. Her arm won't."
"They'll make her one then. She deserved it."
Before she could say anything more about how you can't just cut off people's arms if they do that when the second came into her office.
"I presume you heard what the little one did North Star," he grumbled as he stopped in front of her desk, "He really isn't happy about this."
North stood up, "Go," she said to her daughter before looking to two, "Let's go get this over with."
The little one, as she was known by most, ran out of the office before hearing anything else. These meetings had been very common over the past seven year. Any small screw up and North Star would have an ear full from the second but the first would just comment or say it was interesting. Anywho, the little one went past the infirmary.
"Little one," a voice came from the enterence, "How are the thorns? Hope I didn't do too much damage."
"Grim Reaper. How's the arm? Hope it doesn't shock you," she growled. She heard a few footsteps come closer to her. Grim growled slightly.
"Your Mirosa won't be able to keep you here much longer, I'll make sure of it."
"Jealousy doesn't look good on you. My Mirosa isn't the reason I'm still here. I'm here because I'm one of the best assassin trainee," she responded, taking a step forwards. The pair were about to start throwing punches.
"Woo now you two," a new voice said. It was the voice of a young male, "I don't want Grim to die."
"As if I'd die at the hands of the runt," she said before taking a few steps back.
"Hey Patchwork. He is right, you'd be the one who'd die. Today already showed I attack first."
With an annoyed grunt, Grim went back into the infirmary. Once out of sight the two burst out laughing.
"Thornie, how haven't you gotten yourself killed yet? You've made enemies with every kid in our class."
"Almost every kid. You are my friend and that won't change."
"Well when your as lonely as me then you take what you can get, even if they are three years younger than me."