Xirysa Says: So. Yeah. I always imagined what this could have been like...

Over a Bowl of Soup

The tavern was a noisy, smelly place, filled with drunk men and bar maids in low cut blouses and watered-down beer. It really wasn't quite the best place to catch up with family.

But at least the food here is pretty good, Farina mused as she swallowed a spoonful of the vegetable soup she had ordered—she didn't trust the state of the meat here, no matter how badly she wanted some. And it's cheap. Actually, it was very good, a hearty blend of butter and vegetables and a spice she really couldn't name.

Compliments to the cook.

She looked around the room with a mix of disgust and amusement. A wolf-whistle from the tavern's front door caused her to turn around to find the stupid bastard (and probably punch him in the face if he was whistling at her), and Farina soon found herself grinning in amusement.

It was just like her to get unwanted attention—someone so straight-laced and by the book. Farina could see the tips of her elder sister's ears begin to turn a rather amusing shade of pink as one of the drunk patrons of the tavern decided that Fiora needed some company.

Farina stood up and cupped a hand around her mouth. "Fiora!" At the sound of her name, the older sister looked up, her expression grateful. If possible, Farina's grin grew wider. Oh, the blackmail… "Fiora, over here!"

As she watched the cyan-haired Pegasus knight made her way over through the crowd of tables and people, Farina couldn't help but notice that Fiora seemed so much… Older. Even though they were only a year or so apart, there were already streaks of grey in her sister's hair. Farina pushed her hair off of her forehead and sat down as Fiora finally reached the table.

"Honestly, Farina," she said as she sat down beside Farina, "I don't know why you agreed that we meet here."

"You know exactly why," Farina replied as she took another spoonful of soup—it was still rather hot. "It's cheap here. Want something to eat? The soup is surprisingly good."

Fiora shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "Always the same, aren't you, Farina?" She paused, as if in deep thought. "At least one of us is…" Her voice trailed off; she sounded almost wistful. Farina couldn't help but notice the number of lines that creased her sister's face, or how gaunt her face seemed. Mercenary work really didn't bring much food to the table, especially in Ilia.

Farina cleared her throat and mixed her soup with her spoon. If she could get that carrot in just the right spot, the vegetables in the soup looked just like a face. "So, why did you want to talk to me? Don't tell me it's about Florina…"

"Actually," Fiora began, "that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"That lout who calls himself Lord Ostia isn't making her life a living hell, is he? I told him when they got married that if he did one thing to make her cry, I would—!"

"Farina," Fiora said slowly, "Farina, Florina is dead."

Florina was… But how? Why? No, it couldn't be true. All the same, Farina heard herself croak out the very question.

"She was ill, Farina, but she didn't want anyone to know."

"Oh." The room suddenly seemed very cold, and so very silent. Farina found that she couldn't meet her sister's eyes at all; her gaze wandered until it landed on the bowl of soup in front of her.

The face she had been attempting to create seemed to be leering at her, now, and decidedly morbid looking. The blobs of butter here and there cooled and congealed like the fat on a corpse, and the little pieces of tomato pulp that clung to the edges of the bowl looked like gouts of blood and scraps of flesh. Yes, very disgusting indeed…

Xirysa Says: I really debated where I wanted to end this—it was actually harder than I thought. Rushed? Yes. I just wanted to get this out there, mostly. So this piece of 'fic kind of sucks. Feedback, though, is appreciated!