kamber virsken - d2 - FIN

There was once a girl born with fire for hair.

Perhaps it was her most distinct feature: the vibrant flames snaking down her back, between her shoulder blades. Her hair was just like fire, untamable, unpredictable. It's common to find strands out of place, spilling from a braid, or entangling itself during sleep. When brushed, it falls in long, straight tresses like a forest fire seeping from her scalp.

A strange thing to note about Kamber Virsken, the girl with fire hair: her eyes were water.

They were small pools under short, almost transparent lashes, as if shielded from the blaze the rest of her face gave off. The water was calm and deep, and nearly emotionless. Underneath was a sea of freckles, dusting over her small, narrow nose and rosy cheeks.

Although most fires are warm, cozy and overall pleasant, Miss Virksen was not.

Her lips were usually pulled taut into a straight line, covering over her sharp tongue like a sheath covering a knife. Kamber never looked particularly threatening, though, even if she wanted to be. There was enough muscle under her pale skin to make her look somewhat career, but otherwise, everything about her was small. She stood at 5'3", with skinny legs and thin, abnormally long fingers.

She couldn't care less, really, about her face. She wasn't there to be pretty.

l

Talking to Kamber is quite a task. Why do people even bother?

They don't, not usually. Maybe if she wasn't so focused on everything she started, she would spark up some small talk.

HA.

Let's not be complete idiots.

Kamber wouldn't go out of her way to say something like, "hey, the weather seems pretty nice today." More likely her eyes would speak for her with a smoldering glare, or maybe her eyebrows would furrow into an angry orange line. But no matter what she does, she sure as hell won't be talking to you anytime soon. The only words people have been able to coax out of her for years have been witty insults.

You'll find that Kamber's a great listener, though. She won't interrupt you or anything.

Like almost every career, she has that vicious aura to her. A lot of people underestimate her, but in the end, they'll find out she's just as ruthless as anyone else. She probably could've been a relatively sweet girl if she hadn't been hustled into the career life. Maybe it's a little overboard to call her blood thirsty, but she can definitely hurt someone and feel no remorse afterwards.

She's the equivalent to a robot.

Always striving for perfection, this one. Kamber beats herself up if she can't achieve whatever she set out to do. Once she starts something, she'll always finish, and won't let anything or anyone get in her way. She can never get the idea of 'you can't be the best at everything' into her head. You should be able to do anything, that's what she tells herself; If you can't, you're a failure.

On that harsh and somewhat depressing note...

"My god, Kamber! Can you do anything right?!"

Surprisingly, Kamber just held still, bracing against ever yell thrown at her. This was the only person she could never lash out at. Believe it or not, she was scared.

"You've been going to the academy since you were twelve, and you still can't hit a stupid bullseye three times in a row. What's wrong with you?"

Silence.

"Do you realize how much I've had to give up to get you here?" her voice echoed off the walls. She felt a sharp finger prodding her. "Well, do you?"

Kamber looked up into her mother's eyes, and said almost automatically, "No, mother."

"Of course you don't," the woman above her sighed. "Children never understand."

Fingers gripping harder against the edges of her chair, Kamber held her mother's gaze. There were so many things she wanted to say to her, so many venomous words to spit out right back at her. But her lips stayed sealed like someone had stitched them shut.

"Clean the dishes, you disgrace of a daughter," Kamber kept looking straight forward, not looking to watch her mother leave.

She'd never tell anyone, but a single tear fell from her eye.

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It may not matter anymore, but her mother was actually quite pleasant before Kamber's sister and father died.

Kamber was ten, lively and vibrant, just like the fire burning on her head. It was a bright and sunny morning in the fall, rays of sunshine teeming in from the window. She was teasing her younger sister, Camille when the unthinkable happened.

It could have been mistaken for any other coughing fit, except for one tiny, minor detail.

Blood.

Young Kamber, ironically, screamed at that point, terrified. Funny how so much can change when the fire goes out.

The doctors were puzzled with whatever Camille had come down with. During that period was the first time Kamber had seen her mom yell. "FIX HER, DAMNIT! FIX. HER!" Her father had spent most of his time caring for Camille, but the only that came out of that was his sickness, and eventually, his death.

Poor Kamber fell asleep every night thinking that because she was making fun of Camille, she killed her.

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Watching her mother change was scarier than the blood Kamber had seen.

She stopped tucking her daughter in at night, stopped hugging her and kissing her forehead. Her mother made her be perfect because Kamber was the only thing she had left. There was so much love for the fire girl, but there was so much bitterness for life in general.

Worst of all, though; she knew exactly what she was doing to her daughter, but she never had the sense to stop until it was already too late.

She had broken Kamber into a million pieces, and she lost the ability to ever put her back together again.