Clouded Judgment

“Papa? How’d you an’ Mama meet?” My daughter set her cup down, fixing me with her innocent, curious gaze.

I chuckled and smiled apologetically, resting my teacup on the table with a shaking wing. I took a moment to catch my breath and responded, “Didn’t I tell you before? I could have sworn I did. Maybe… maybe…”

Clear shook her head in that cheeky way she always did, sending her braided flame-red mane dancing and jiggling around her horn. “Y’always said you and Mama grew up together as slaves, but ya never said how you guys got out!”

I was struck by a pang of guilt and looked away, locking the ancient, cracked wooden table between us with a distant stare. She was right - I had never told her anything about us. Nothing beyond the Kingdom, at least. She’d be so ashamed of me, afraid for her mother, afraid for herself. Sometimes I still worried about her mother, too. About her mind, about the things she had lost, about whether she would still love me if she knew.

A ray of warm sun beamed in through the window beside us, lighting up the table’s surface and revealing hundreds of tiny dust specks swimming through the air. She was older now, though. Goddesses, she’s older than I was way back then! Clearest could handle it. She had to hear the story someday, or her mother would lash me for being so irresponsible. I smiled again and looked back up at her, warmed by the thought.

“I suppose… um, I guess I never did. I apologize.” I bit my lip and held my breath, stalling for time. “Would you like some more tea before we begin? It… it’s a bit of a... long one.”

She rolled her big, sky-blue eyes and huffed, prompting another unrestrained smile out of me. She was so like her mother, it was uncanny! “Eh-heheh, can’t sneak anything past you, can I? Okay, okay, I’ll start…”

I sipped away the last drops of tea to wet my aging throat and steeled myself for a trip to the past. I felt shades of fear before I even opened my mouth to speak, soothing me, coaxing me to keep my mouth closed. I took one more deep breath to calm myself, dispelling the fear for one precious second, and opened my mouth - only to have fear grip me hard, twisting my stomach and sickening me to even the thought of telling the story.

Maybe I could lie? She’d probably buy it, if I told her I’d forgotten in my old age. Yes… she knew I had trouble remembering things sometimes, she’d pass it off as ‘senile ol’ Cloudy slowly losin’ his mind as he gets older!’ My guts eased and relaxed, appeased by my decision. I would lie. I’d tell her a different story, where I was ‘Cloudy Daze, the fearless pegasus who had boldly escaped from slavery and single-hoofedly slew demons, saved the world, and got the mare!’ I’d rewrite history just how I wanted it! And all it would take was one measly little lie.

To my daughter. I would lie, to my daughter… With a shock, I realized I’d been grinning victoriously at nothing while Clear gave me a concerned look. My dreams of grandeur faded into nothing, leaving me alone in the sitting room with her once more. Lie to my daughter… Her sky-blue eyes pierced my vision, and I remembered her mother. My dearest Wave. Lie to my daughter… lie to Wave.

...No. Absolutely not. For the final time, that simple word shattered my fears and brought me back to reality. No. I would not lie to her. She would hear the truth, no matter what she thought of me because of it.

A tear squeezed from my eye as I cleared my tensed throat, repressing the sudden urge to cry. “The story, yes. Right. It all began one night in the slave camp, with a terrible nightmare…”

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Name: Cloudy Daze

Race: Pegasus

Level: 0