Tiny Story Time: Burden

Luperci threw off the heavy plate gear with a thundering finality. Startled from her reverie of an amazing tome, Matty almost snapped in anger at her sister’s rudeness. But then she looked at her face.

“I just can’t do this anymore, Matty. I can’t.”

Just then, the cat brought in his catch, a huge Stormwind rat, and dropped it at Luperci’s feet, sauntering away in triumph.

“Look, even the cat has more success than I do!”

Matty put her book down, and removed herself from the wide, warm cushions, that wrapped her like a lullaby. Luperci was in distress: that much was obvious, and did not require a sensitive shaman to figure that one out.

“What can’t you do anymore, Lupe?”

And, as if a second set of invisible armor was lifted and tossed, Luperci laid down another burden. Her sweet cinnamon face folded in tears, though Matty could tell she was trying to still hold them in, that crying was something she wasn’t used to doing.

“Day in, day out, doing nothing but escorting ungrateful trogs to and fro. No matter what I do, it doesn’t seem to matter. I never hear a word of gratitude, or even, well, nothing…and…”

Lupe wiped her now soaking face with the back of her hand; Matty handed her a cloth, and set her down on the warm chair.

“…This guild we are in, Matty, I am sorry to say, but I don’t fit in there. Some of our guild mates are so, stiff and proper, and dare I say, awkward? And that is saying something, coming from me!” Luperci weakly laughed.

Sniffling, she continued, just relieved to pour her heart out. “Matty, I hear more in what they don’t say than in what they do, like they’re constantly judging me. The things they say in battle, Matty, the derision…I feel they are a council of strangers who are not interested in me, or my offerings.”

Matty sighed, and frowned. She never envied her sister going into dungeons and slamming her pretty face against attacks constantly, while others stood back with their magic and melee. Healers—well, even Zep had sent a letter recently that shocked Matty. What had happened to her two sweet sisters? It seemed that the monsters in the world were not really the problem, but those who were supposedly fighting them. The intention of what may have started as heroism turned into bureaucratic entanglement and traps. Like falling into the maw of a beast, chewed and digested on the way down. There was no soft landing.

“I even had the notion yesterday, Matty, that I would listen to the Call to Arms, and go help on the battlefronts. At least there, was I do is my own, and my successes or failures hurt no one but myself.”

Matty had not thought of Luperci ever as a craven, for that was not how their father raised them. Indeed, many brilliant citizens of Azeroth, Horde and Alliance alike, used the military forces as a means of being truly heroic. As long as Luperci wasn’t under the delusion that she could hide behind the shield in battle, and take battles seriously, maybe she would find the success she needed. She wasn’t sure.

But, Matty did know one thing, at least for the next few hours, of what Luperci should do, and this Matty could help her with.

“Baby sister, for now, your burden is not yours to concern yourself with; let me make you some honeymint tea, and I have some Lunar Festival treats, too. And then, you are going to get some sleep for a while. Things always look better in the morning.”

The cat nestled in Luperci’s lap, proud of his gift, and grateful for her warmth. Though the cat couldn’t speak in a language Lupe would understand, he was happy to have her there. She just didn’t notice.