Out of Arrows [Birdie]

"He's not going to do it, Triton. I don't know why you insist on trying this again."

A child of about nine years of age stood in the saltwater, staring at his grubby reflection in the mirror below. Living near the water, there were a lot of chances to get a good look at yourself. Whereas mirrors were in pretty short supply in the Fibb household, one could always venture out to the water's edge and chart the passage of the years, and the toll it took on the body. His mother and father argued very rarely, but in the case of Taddeus, they made a point to disagree. It must have been something of a lucky fluke that Gull had fallen into the role Triton Fibb had deemed his male spawn rightful for, and Marina had fallen into hers. But when Taddeus was born, raring to read and write and observe more than anything else, Triton was not too pleased. Sapphira could care less either way, not because of a lack of interest, since it would be unnatural for a mother to not care about the path her child chose, but because she understood the importance and near-necessity of the freedom of choice. Triton, like most fathers, expected a certain degree of enthusiasm toward all things sporty and physical from his sons. When Taddeus denied such, Triton fought back, more out of misunderstanding and blind curiosity than actual displeasure. But, even when Taddeus attempted to appease his father by throwing the old trident around every once in a while, there was no true way of sating him. Showing even the slightest interest must have filled Triton with some perverse hope that Taddeus might be "coming around" to his natural sense of manhood. This was simply never the case. Taddeus just wasn't one for conflict.

"Why are you okay with this, Saph? Because I am one half of this partnership, and this is our property, and we should be able to guide him as we see fit. Taddeus should be out here harvesting, not holed up in his room poring over a bunch of pretty pictures and picking his favorite breed of koi. There are no koi, or barbs or bettas anymore. If he's going to read, he should at least be reading up on something useful, for God's sake!"

Taddeus felt a harshness on his right side as Triton blindly grasped for his son's shoulder. The roughness that came with the gestured was not directed toward Taddeus, but more as a way of proving his anger to Sapphira, as if it needed some immaculate display. Triton spun his son around to face him and forced the shaft of the trident into his palm, forcefully prying Tadd's fingers apart and wrapping them back around the smooth wood. He kept his hand there for a moment, coming down to his level and staring into his eyes. There was no telling what form of coercion he would try next; Taddeus had already endured bribing, blackmail, pleading... Nothing his father tried would make him better at this. Still, he would give it another go, if only to make the berating stop. He didn't even give his father the attention he thought he deserved. Tadd wrenched his hand from his father, trident in grip, and turned back to his reflection. His father stared down with him, the two of them meeting each other's gaze for a moment. Tadd's face scrunched up in irritation, tired of these futile tries at making him a better hunter. Without another thought, he plunged the trident square into the reflection's forehead.

A splash. Taddeus felt an unusual weight as he slid the trident up and out of the water. When it finally burst forth, a sizable blackfish was revealed to be impaled about a quarter of the way up. Triton lit up immediately, oblivious to Taddeus spiteful intentions and suddenly only aware of the golden child to his left. He wrenched the trident from Tadd's hand and raised it high in the air for Sapphira to see. The blackfish shared in Triton's excitement, flapping a bit as the cold air buffered it. Tadd was stunned, but not altogether proud or anything of that nature. It was a happy accident, which had occurred before. Nothing more than that. The day slipped away after that, and Tadd got second helpings at dinner. That was what success got you; momentary approval, and more food. Even if the success wasn't attained fairly or with any true intent.

Tadd recalled that morning with chagrin. The same face stared back at him, a little bigger and with the features sharpened. He had lost most of his baby fat in the six years that had transpired since that moment in time, but the same uninspired little child hadn't been lost to time. For some reason, Tadd found himself actually trying lately. He would go retrieve the trident from the small shack the Fibb family dared to call a work shed, and practice lobbing it at empty water. There was no way he could catch anything when he tried; that would involve self-gratification, which the universe seemed to be holding back for Tadd until one special day in the eternally distant future. To tell the truth, Taddeus secretly wished he had meant to spear the fish that fateful day. Because if he had, he would know that he could. There was something about having felt something so strong moments before that Taddeus knew had boosted his skills. Or temporarily called luck to his side. An intense form of anger, seemingly directed to his father, but in actuality, directed toward himself and the things his father believed he should be able to accomplish. So often people are told of the things they should be able to do, under their conditions, at their level, with their skillset... If only they could realize the extreme degree of motivation they are stealing away by making such comments. Who wants to try at something they know they should be able to do, but for some damn reason, can't? The past week, Taddeus had come out here every morning, before even dawn, and fished in the dark.

There was nothing to be caught, it seemed. Nothing ever showed up. And for every failure, Tadd became a little more resigned, as if such a thing was possible. He had never had much interest for physical jobs, like fishing, but he suddenly wanted to be able to do it more than anything. After about an hour, and the first rays of sunlight slipped over surface of the water, Tadd let the trident drop to his side in defeat. He simply couldn't do it, and he had never cared before. Why was he being tortured now? It wasn't fair. A lot of things weren't fair, but this one was so trivial, Taddeus knew he should be able to conquer it. Some things, you just have to submit to... He told himself, as his mother Sapphira had instructed after the first time his father had pleaded with him to learn to hunt. It's better to only fight the battles you have weapons for.