Episode 2: The Daphening

Here we go, day two. Let's get into it. Today's character was generated from https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/character-descriptions.php, and today's plot was generated by: https://www.squibler.io/plot-generator. Here are the prompts:

Incoming!

-------------------------------------

After living with humans for six hundred and twelve years, Daphne could tell their emotional states by a number of subtle queues— the set of their brows, the hunch of their shoulder, and, in this instance, the length of their hugs. Trevor had started by taking her hands, which could mean any number of things. He'd sat her down on the ornate couch in the drawing room, hard cushion accepting her tall frame with a creak, and had looked at her with tears in his eyes. Bad news, then.

Then, rather than speaking, he'd embraced her. The hug lasted past "minor disappointment", past "personal tragedy", and progressed into "I've already projected my grief onto you and am comforting you to avoid acknowledging my own needs". His arms around her shoulders were tight, his body trembling. She returned the squeeze, gentle in her way, careful not to break him with preternatural strength.

"Trevor," she said finally, into his shoulder. "What's happened?"

He pulled back and looked at her, then up and off to the side, studying the swirling architecture that connected wall to lavish teal ceiling. Humans did that when they had to put their thoughts together. It was a habit she'd worked half a century to break. She liked to observe her speaking companions.

"Mitsie was attacked, in the woods at the edge of the grounds," he said. "She's lost a lot of blood, and probably the use of her left eye."

That was bad news. Daphne had chosen Mitsie for the Awakening. Now she would have to wait for another suitable child to be born to the family.

"What did it?"

Trevor hesitated, and Daphne could read a complexity of uncertainty in him. He had convinced himself that he wasn't at all certain of the thing he was certain of.

"We don't—"

"Trev. What was it?"

"We're not sure. We found tracks, but—" he cut himself off, but his gaze flicked to her neck, where the wolf's paw tattoo hid behind her pale hair. She nodded, grim in understanding. If they had broken the treaty, it would mean war.

"Take me to where it happened."

"You don't want to see Mitsie?"

"Will she live?"

"We don't know."

Daphne considered. The human thing to do was to shriek and cry and demand to see the injured child. It was expected of her. She was family, after all, and not just family, but the family's guardian. Centuries of watching the DeVantress family, of protecting it, of encouraging its growth and prosperity. Humans expected certain things from their families, and even in a life as long as hers, she had not entirely rid herself of those expectations.

But she was not human. She was their guardian, not their nursemaid. She had brokered the treaty long ago that had brought them centuries of peace with the neighboring clan, given the DeVantresses the space to seize opportunity and amass untold fortunes, and now that pact may have been broken. That was a greater threat than the life of one child. Her priorities could not be informed by human expectation. She would deal with the threat.

"Show me where it happened."

-----------------------------------

Ooooh, intrigue! I'm gonna keep this one in the drawer, maybe flesh it out one day. What were the terms of the treaty? Who is this other clan? What is The Awakening? Why does Daphne have her tattoo? I know the answers to these, but they're secrets I'm going to keep to myself, for now.

Until next time!