Post by idele venn vector on Jul 18, 2023 3:56:12 GMT -7
BEING SHELTERED FROM MOST THINGS as a growing witch was ordinary for any normal child. For Idele Vector, she had always felt..something was off. Aside from the distance she shared from her half-siblings and the 'controlling' nature from her mother, another thing felt off. From what felt like birth, adults would tower over the youngest Vector, always commenting upon her appearance. It was the same words on repeat. Never a tick off. Beautiful. Gorgeous. You look just like your mother. Stunning. Future heartbreaker. It was all the same.
Idele knew her mother had the same experience when she was young, granted her mother was undoubtedly beautiful. The rarity of photographs that included her mother and grandmother also showed it. From young, Idele was intrigued in her family history but asking her mother about her past was far from an acceptable conversation. Instead there was a strangely odd routine most evenings for a child Idele. She would be in her mother's room, sitting on a rather comfortable stool by her mother's vanity, staring into the mirror as she watched both herself and her mother.
Nothing but her mother's hums would fill the room and no matter how tired the youngest Vector was, she had to endure every moment of it. For what felt like an hour or two, her hair would be brushed. There was probably a minimum number of times her hair needed to be brushed, but Idele never counted that far. Though, to Idele, her brothers and even her father, the colour of her hair was odd. A vibrant red compared to the blonde her mother had and even the silver her grandmother had.
"You're..aware of the privileges you have..aren't you?" Her mother asked one night, brushing away at red locks while a tired Idele rubbed at her eyes. "What do you mean?" She recalled asking, a child-like voice compared to her mature mother. "Your...beauty..It's a part of you..the same way it's a part of me." Still confused - as one would be at the young age she was - Idele turned in her seat, interrupting the brushing to peer up at her mother.
"Dear child.." Her mother began, a gentle hand resting under Idele's chin. "You are Part-Veela. A mere twenty-five percent of the being I am..But thankfully you look more like me than your father." Eyes lit up, a mere reaction out of the younger Vector, because while she felt like she didn't entirely understand her mother's words..the basis of it was still there. Veela. It felt like a foreign word on her tongue but it explained most things.
"But aren't I a witch?" She responded, following the slight taps of her mother's hand so she sat properly, facing the mirror once more. The response only stirred a soft laugh out of her mother, something that Idele felt like she rarely saw. The rest of the night Idele spent cuddled up to her mother, listening to the importance of the privilege of beauty, and how it would eventually be a tool the youngest Vector could utilise. Of course, a child rather young would never understand, but it didn't mean she would never find out.
