The Red String of Fate

A Song for You...

Year 857, Stohess District, Paradis Island

As day broke over the horizon of Stohess, the light flooded into Anya's room as it did every day for the last seven years. Anya's eyelashes fluttered, revealing the obnoxious light to her blue eyes. She looked at the small watch that adorned her right wrist and realized that yet again she had overslept, and her employees would be showing up before her. That was enough motivation for her to pull herself out of bed with a yawn and a stretch, and start making her way through her small apartment to her bathroom and shower. Morning's were never her favorite partially due to the insomnia that plagued her – leaving her with an average of 4 hours a sleep a night if she was lucky, and partially due to the chill in the morning air reminding her of the place she grew up. Anya pulled herself into the shower, and immediately lathered her hair and body in soap – taking a moment to really savor the scent of the lather. As she breathed in the combination of mint, tea tree oil, and vanilla – she noted to herself that it smelled especially good that morning. Something in the air felt different today, with an almost childlike innocence and nostalgia hanging in the air.

As Anya exited the shower, she took note of the time. Running behind schedule again, she opted to quickly get dressed and get to the shop - she threw on a simple gray dress, a black belt, and her favorite green leather boots and matching jacket– looking in the mirror, she noted that while it was an unconventional look, she wasn't aiming for anyone to look at her anyway. She hated when people looked at her. She hated when people called her beautiful. It reminded her too much of when he would call her beautiful. She pulled up her now slightly longer than shoulder length white hair into a bun and wrapped a dark green scarf around her neck to block out the chill of the morning air. As she locked the door to the place she called home, she noted again that something just felt different today – like something big was going to happen.

Anya approached the tiny shop on the corner, located just on the other side of the block from her mother's bar. She admired it for a moment – she had saved up for years to get this place, and for the last 7 years poured every ounce of her heart and soul into it. The tables both inside and out were crafted by a local carpenter, the table linens dyed by her own hand. The window was painted with the name of her pride and joy –"Roff Patisserie & Tea", a homage to her former last name. She smiled as she walked in the door and heard the ringing above her head, looking with pride at how pristine everything was – her employees had really done well this morning. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere to be seen, and every menu and checkboard linen had been perfectly placed and symmetrical.

"Miss Anya! You're earlier than normal!" Came a soft feminine voice from the opposite side of the kitchen.

"Oh Rebekah, You know I love torturing you kids by not knowing when I'll show up" Anya looked at the small brunette with a smile "Where's your brother?" Anya asked, putting up her coat and scarf.

"He's starting the muffins now, we're almost ready to open" Rebekah looked at her boss, the woman who had brought her and her brother David form the underground to work in her shop 7 years ago and couldn't help but smile. "Miss, I saw you paid our rent again. You really. . . really didn't have too.." Rebekah started, following Anya's every step.

"Nonsense! You brat's are basically family." Anya smiled down at Rebekah and brushed her hair back and out of her face before putting multiple kettles over the stove "Besides, who's going to run this place when I die? Sarina? She'll turn it into a pigpen."

Rebekah let out a small laugh - "You know, it's not too late for you to have kids. They could take it over for you, you know, if you would actually give one of your many suitors a chance" She teased Anya, remembering what Sarina had told her one night after she stumbled into the tea shop post-binge drinking 'She hasn't dated since she was 15', 'She's basically celibate', 'if I didn't know better I would have assumed she's a virgin', 'she has never once shown an interest in anyone – male, female, neither – doesn't matter. She just won't move on' – Rebekah had to wonder, what was Anya not moving on from, exactly?