#one of them involves a very nice tiara for tara so she

[weavewilled]

all this marriage talk i'm seeing and i just want people to know that gale has been meticulously planning his wedding since he was like, 6

[twilight-red-mage]

Suspended In Midair

Tara’s parents always told her never to seek magic. Tonight, though, she had no intention of listening.

The night of All Saints’ Wake had come, and five-year-old Tara bore an enthusiasm unlike any other. After all, this year she would finally wear the kind of costume she had always wanted to! What more could she ask for?

Mere minutes earlier, Tara had bounced down the stairs inside her big house and ran into the kitchen, proudly showing herself off to her mother and father. Like so many other little girls must have at the time, Tara had dressed herself as a princess. Her bright pink dress sparkled and shimmered, her long, white gloves felt silky and soft, and her golden tiara glittered. Having particularly wealthy parents certainly had its perks. The two of them ensured that their dear daughter always had the best she could ask for, enough to look like a proper young lady.

“Aww, you look so beautiful!” her mother, Daphne, exclaimed.

Her father, Nathan, jokingly walked over and asked “Would it be alright if I asked the princess for a dance?” Tara laughed, that kind of joyful giggle that we hear from a child when they play with some new toy they have wanted “for forever,” and she played along as her father scooped her up in his arms and the three of them laughed together, like a happy family.

Their fanfare continued as they set out, with the three of them pulling on coats, mindful of the night’s chill in the air, and making their way to the waterside. The ferry ride that took them to Limsa Lominsa from the small island where Tara’s parents’ home and business stood lasted ten minutes at most, and she and her parents kept the festivities up as best they could, their gilded smiles shimmering.

It seemed as though Tara could hardly contain her excitement, and as soon as they reached the docks, she leapt off of the boat, seeming ready to leave her parents behind right then and there, but Nathan caught her and pulled her up into his arms. In a light voice, he chided his lively daughter. “Now, Tara,” he began, “I know you’re excited, but you have to wait until we meet up with your class and get some candy, but we need to walk you there so you don’t get lost.”

“Candy!!!” Tara yelled as Nathan carried her to their destination and Daphne followed behind them, looking amused. Of course, in truth, while it may taste sweet, Tara did not merely pursue candy on that night. No, this precocious little girl hungered for something even more delectable. Soon, the perfect opportunity would come to her, and she had already made the preparations to see it through. She need only leave the clutches of her parents and claim her prize.

Much like the boat ride preceding it, their trip to the home of Tara’s teacher ended quickly and filled itself with little more than the family’s idle chatter. Upon reaching their destination, Nathan set Tara down and she immediately inquired about where in the house her teacher might have a bathroom. As soon as the teacher responded, Tara took off and went inside, not bothering to stop and talk to any of her classmates first. Finding that the bathroom did not have anyone inside at the time, Tara rushed inside and slammed the door shut, whipped off her coat and pulled her princess costume off, revealing an adorable, black costume that had hidden beneath the dress and its big skirt.

Tara laughed and pulled a purple ribbon out of her pocket, using it to tie off a braid she had put in her hair, then jumped onto the edge of the sink, using her little arms to lift herself up so she could see her reflection in the mirror that she did not quite stand tall enough to see herself clearly in. A golden grin shone through her and her eyes widened with glee. She wore the clothes of the Young Witch of the Forest, her favorite character from one of her favorite books, one of the ones her parents did not know about. A black dress with big, yellow buttons on the front worn over a long-sleeved white shirt with a fluffy white apron tied around her waist and simple black shoes made Tara look just like that mischievous blonde witch she so admired, especially when complete with the braid. “If only my eyes were brown like hers, too,” she thought, but she wasted no more time on such an impossible modification. Still, just one thing remained…

After stashing her princess dress in one of her teacher’s medicine cabinets and flushing the toilet to make sure that her cover story held up, Tara left the bathroom with a playful grin that captured the spirit of the character she imitated perfectly. Magaga Maga, Tara’s teacher, had evidently returned from speaking with Tara’s parents, and Tara approached her. “Thank you so so so sooooooo much for the costume!” Tara cried. “I love it so much!”

Miss Maga, a short, bespectacled Lalafell, a younger teacher who had just recently gotten a job at Tara’s school, and one who treated her students very nicely, had heard from Tara that the little (for a Hyuran value of little) girl’s parents had searched and searched, but simply couldn’t find this costume that Tara so desperately wanted, and Miss Maga had told Tara that she had just seen that very same costume at a store just a few days ago. Of course, Tara knew this, but she pretended she had no idea. If Tara could bring her money from her parents, she had asked, could she possibly bring Tara the costume? Miss Maga had graciously accepted the offer, and Tara had promptly burst with gratitude.

That night, Tara asked her parents for money for the teacher to buy food and decorations for Miss Maga’s All Saints’ Wake party, which would involve all the students meeting at their teacher’s house and going out to collect candy together. Tara knew that, conveniently, her parents could only drop her off and pick her up, since the two of them had to meet with some businessman their daughter cared not enough to remember the name or description of. The perfect opportunity for Tara to dress up as a magician, as she had always wanted, had come.

“You just wait one second,” Miss Maga said before running off on her tiny legs to get the two missing pieces of the ensemble, the witch’s hat and wand. Tara simply couldn’t fit those items, a hat too big and a wand too fragile, into her little backpack, so Miss Maga happily kept them for her so that Tara could pick them up on the night of the party. When the kind teacher returned, Tara jumped up and down with joy and took them. The big hat felt like it had found a home on her head, and the little fake wand in her hand felt just the same. While Tara knew they did not make her a real witch, the cheap costume filled her with hope and pride, as if to remind her that her dreams could still come true in the future. Maybe, someday, she could convince her parents that magic was not so bad…

Once all the other kids arrived, Miss Maga called all the kids, assorted children of every race who dressed themselves up as animals, princes and princesses, characters from books and plays, horrifying monsters, and more over to her, and the parents who could show up followed after their children and tried to keep them quiet (with limited success) as their teacher told them all they needed to know, like where they would go in town and some rules like: “Don’t take more than one piece of candy so everyone else can have one” and “Don’t stray from the group” and “Try to remember which Lalafell are students and which are parents.” Tara, one of the few children whose parents could not show up, could hardly pay attention. The novelty of her perfect attire consumed her gleefully. She simply could not wait to jump out into the night and prance around as though she had become an actual witch.

When it finally came time to go, Tara, unsurprisingly, rushed for the door, but Miss Maga managed to reel her in before Tara’s own little legs could carry her too far.

Despite its uneventfulness, the night that followed would forever remain a treasured memory for the hopeful, passionate, and determined Tara Celica. What felt to others like just another All Saints’ Wake felt to Tara like the greatest night of her little life, a night where she could entertain the dream of becoming a knowledgeable mage. So long as she stayed within Miss Maga’s sight, Tara could do, well… whatever she wanted! Such freedom Tara had never known!

Loudly and bombastically, she pranced around and mimed conjury spells with her wand and chuckled, mimicking the witch she had dressed herself as. Sometimes as she pranced around, she would spread her arms out to her sides like wings, and from the look on her face, one might have forgotten that she could not fly. Her joy lifted her up, higher, higher, toward the stars above.

By the time the class finished their run around town and every child had their huge party bag filled to the brim with candy, Tara had become something of an annoyance to some of the other partygoers. Of course, one could have expected that outcome; Tara did not have any particularly close friends – the other kids found her obsession with magic and the arcane off-putting or tiring – and some of the parents recognized her for her reputation.

“Such a shame that you couldn’t reel in that unruly little girl,” one of the mothers, a tall Wildwood Elezen, told Miss Maga. “I hear that she’s always making trouble and ignoring her parents.”

Miss Maga laughed uncomfortably. “I think she was just having fun tonight,” she said with a nervous grin. “And she behaves herself in class well enough most of the time. As long as she’s not hurting anyone, it’s fine, right?”

The mother nodded, but did not speak, issuing only a slightly disapproving, “Hmm, yes…” The conversation ended there, abruptly, and the woman turned away, wondering what that strange girl would become if she never learned a modicum of obedience.

Miss Maga knew that Tara’s parents did not want to see their little girl become a mage. They worried for her well-being. Danger and magic sometimes went hand in hand, and they wanted their daughter to pursue a more safe, secure profession. As far as Miss Maga could tell, Tara’s radiant passion had not dimmed even the slightest bit, no matter how hard they attempted to dissuade her.

Sighing, Miss Maga wondered what would become of the young midlander. She believed that children should follow their dreams, but she had to take responsibility for her kids, so she listened to Tara’s parents’ request. Besides, kids as young as Miss Maga’s students hardly ever learned to use any magic; like Tara’s parents said, the arcane could cause suffering just as easily as it could alleviate it.

As she watched Tara return from her second bathroom break, Miss Maga hoped they might come around when Tara grew a little older. After all, as far as she knew, they had allowed her to wear a witch costume tonight, so maybe they had already in some small capacity.

Meanwhile, Tara had already changed back into her princess costume, but her coat – which, thankfully, was too big for her incredibly small body – covered her enough that one could not really tell. Her parents had just arrived, and they suspected nothing. Everything had gone off without a hitch, and Tara had enjoyed her All Saints’ Wake as a witch! Even after the festivities had come to a close, her happiness burned its way through the entire room. She even managed to fit the hat and wand into the bottom of her candy bag so that she could take it home with her! If she wanted to, she could pull off the same ruse again, perhaps! They just needed to stay well-hidden, like when Tara checked out spellbooks from the library and hid them behind the other books she had. Maybe these could go in the back of her closet, and the dress could be hung under the same hangar as another, bigger dress?

“I’m so glad I could help with the costume,” Miss Maga said, interrupting Tara’s thoughts. “Tara looked so adorable as a witch!”

Fear petrified Tara. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and sweat began to pour from her forehead and hands. As shrewd as she was, a five-year-old could not think of everything, and she had never stopped to consider that Miss Maga could have said something like that.

Daphne and Nathan reacted similarly, with the same shocked eyes and sighs of disbelief, but those quickly gave way to an incredulous anger. “A witch?” Daphne asked. “We sent her here in a princess costume. But you mean to say that Tara came here as a witch tonight?”

Miss Maga seemed to have read the atmosphere, but nothing remained that she could do but tell the truth. “Tara said you had searched for a Young Witch of the Forest costume and couldn’t find one, but I told her I could, and… she gave me the money to buy it for her, so I…”

Immediately, Daphne and Nathan realized that Miss Maga may have never needed help buying things for the party, and if she did, Tara likely did not help her buy any of that. However, while the specifics stayed uncertain, one thing made itself clear: Tara needed punishment.

“Come on, Tara, we’re going,” Daphne said, and Nathan grabbed the girl’s wrist and began dragging her away to the door while throwing a disinterested “Thanks” in the direction of a distraught Miss Maga. When they got outside, Nathan lifted his daughter back into his arms, but far more roughly than he had when they had set out. Daphne gripped Tara’s shoulders and looked into her big, blue eyes, which welled up with tears. “I want a full explanation when we get home, and then, you will be punished for a long, long time.”

Tara began to cry, and loudly at that, but they merely told her to quiet down and walked in silence, and the shroud of quiet that they moved in lasted even through the ferry ride and the walk back to their house. Once they entered their house, though, the silence broke.

Nathan lifted up Tara’s princess skirt, revealing the dress and apron underneath. Then, the two of them pulled off the princess dress entirely, even as Tara feebly fought to keep it on, as though she could somehow deny the existence of the witch outfit and escape her scolding.

Once the witch costume had become fully unveiled, Daphne knelt down, yelled, “A hundred or a thousand times now, I don’t know, but we’ve told you to never, ever get involved with magic!” and she swiftly slapped Tara across the cheek as she reprimanded her. A pathetic cry rang out in response, but her parents knew now that they could not relent. They had known for a long time that their daughter did not listen, did not obey, did not care, and so as painful as it may have been, they needed to give her much harsher discipline. “How many times does this have to happen, Tara!? How many!? How many!?” Now, Daphne cried, too, and she hit Tara once more, and this time Tara sank to her knees and sobbed.

Nathan joined in now. “You have done a very bad thing, young lady,” he screamed. “And this time, you’ve taken advantage of your teacher, too! Go to your room! And know that you won’t leave this house for the next week, not even for school!” Slowly, Tara lifted herself up onto her arms, and then her parents yelled at her to go to her room once more. What if they hit her again!? Whenever they got this mad, she needed to run, or they would hit her again! They would hit her, again, again, again, again again again…

Tara ran to her room and collapsed against the door. Once again, she had failed, and she curled up into a ball on the floor, wailing. Her cheek stung from the hits dealt to her, red marks of her ignominy and dishonesty. Tears dripped onto her little dress and she wiped them away with her shirt’s long, white sleeves. Failure… Failure… All she ever did…

Weakly, she lifted her head to look out her window. The stars gleamed far above her… always out of reach. All she wanted was to learn magic… She knew that her parents worried, but magic had claimed her passion. Tara could never let it go… but if she kept clinging to it, her parents would keep getting angry, and sad, and they’d hurt her. The two of them had their issues with magic, and Tara could understand their pain – Nathan’s family ridiculing him for his lack of magical talent, and Daphne’s parents treating her as little more than a test subject for their terrifying research – but how could Tara leave behind her dream? Her head fell down again.

While her head could not yet reach the clouds, neither could her feet touch the ground, and so she could only float, adrift and alone. And on the floor below, her parents started discussing how many days would pass before they would allow her to eat again.

(Author’s Note: If you actually read all of that (sorry it was so long), thank you very much and I hope that you enjoyed it! There’s more to come soon!)