This Blade is a Burden.

The first thing Fuki could remember seeing was her parents. She could feel the warm breeze of the Elysium, the soft songs of their worship, the soft fur of her mother. It was nice …oh how she craved to let it last.

The mother ducked her head down, gently burying her muzzle into the newborn's body. A small, cheerful squeak followed. What joy the parents felt that day. To be able to hold such a small phim in their claws, to be able to coo and sing to it and hear the chirps. The three felt extremely content…and they could never ask for anything more.

Throughout Fuki's younger days of childhood she was spoiled to the very heavens themselves. Not a single phim could even fathom the amount of care and gifts that she had. Fuki, the daughter of devotion. She was the best blessing these two would ever come across. The mother always held her tight, singing her to sleep and soothing her. But as Fuki continued to grow the father’s gaze would turn sterner. Innocence was something that could not remain…not when he himself holds a blade that sheds blood.

…

“Again.”

The small brown cherub pants heavily, a fake wooden sword in her paws. She glared at the stubby dummy in front of her, gritting her teeth as she tried and failed to even pick up the sword. The father frowned in disappointment. “No, hold the sword with both hands and lift yourself into the air.”

The cherub growls lowly, dropping the sword altogether, “this is pointless! I'm not gonna get anywhere.”

The father’s brows furrowed, his abyssal wings folding onto his back. It wasn’t always this way, with him glaring down at his child with such fiercer cold eyes. Once there was kindness…but…ever since Fuki had become old enough to learn properly of Hades her father had been encouraging her to get her footing.

Unfortunately, Fuki didn’t seem to understand why this was important.

“The Elysium is safe for us; I don’t see why I gotta swing a sword for the small chance some bad guys show up.” Fuki huffed, glaring at the sword with distaste. She had been forced to learn how to try and hold a sword for weeks now, endlessly it felt like.

Endlessly. She grit her teeth and dropped the sword, looking back up at the father with puffed out cheeks. “I don’t wanna keep doing this. You’re always trying to get me to.”

The father shook his head and looked back down at Fuki, his smile weak, almost fake by now. He still showed patience towards his daughter, but it seems her obvious lack of effort was getting to him. “My dove, you must learn to wield a weapon in the chance you have to protect. Not all of the Elysium is full of harmonious songs.”

Fuki crossed her arms, turning her back to both her father and the sword. “I don’t see why I have to help. We have plenty of warriors like you.”

The father's brow twitched and he walked up to Fuki, a small growl in his voice. “I teach you because I know there will be a time when neither me or your mother will be near. You cannot simply hope to fly away unscathed.”

Fuki rolls her eyes and looks back at her father, tail practically blowing wind across the yard. “I can. The Weaver wouldn’t simply let his devotees go to waste not if they care for us.”

The father stared down at Fuki, glancing off to the side in silence before he looked back down at Fuki. “In time you might understand what the Weaver wants. But I need you to understand that to fight is to breathe, and I will not have you trying to live here like some sort of livestock rather than my kin.”

Fuki could feel her jaw tighten, claws digging into the soil and grass. Her emotions would get the better of her as she turned and left to go inside the house leaving both her father and the sword down in the dirt. He couldn’t understand. Not everyone has to fight to live here. The Weaver does not just want war. They want harmony. Don’t they?