When she was born, her mother-
1. smiled at her, and wept with wonder at her infant child. The midwife beamed with pride, and her father scooped her up and held her to his face and showered her with kisses. The infant cried and the midwife said that meant she had strong lungs and would grow up healthy. After she was given back to her mother, the babe quieted, and fell asleep to the sound of her mother’s heartbeat. Her parents named her Gemma and kissed her forehead and wrapped her in soft clothes. They took her home as soon as the mother was able to leave the bed, her father loading her into the back of the grain-cart and driving as slowly as he could over the country roads. He carried his wife over the threshold as she carried their beautiful child in her arms, and he knew that he would never be prouder than he was at this moment. That night, the mother and father slept with their infant between them, all exhausted but all peaceful and content.
2. screamed to look at her, and wept and tore her hair. The midwife accused her of sleeping with a demon. The father sat silently by and would not take his child. The infant screamed and screamed and none would comfort her. Her mother wanted to drown her in the river, but the clan’s leader would not allow it. They compromised- if the infant could survive a week alone, with none in the clan compelled to care for her, she would be considered as her mother’s child and given the same protections as any other infant. The child, her tiny hands balled into fists and her sharp teeth gnashing, was left on the edge of the clan’s settlement. The first night, nobody could sleep for the screams and wails that the infant produced. The next day, it was little better, and the mother avoided all company. The father saddled a horse and rode out, telling his brother that he was going on the hunt. By the second night, the infant had quieted, and the midwife was sent to check on her. To her surprise, the infant was still alive, and began screaming when she caught sight of the midwife. The midwife turned on her heel immediately and reported the infant’s survival back to the village. This news brought little comfort to the clansmen. On the third day, the midwife checked again, sure that the child must have died of exposure or dehydration by now. Instead, the infant screamed as loudly as before, and thrashed about on the ground where she had been left until the midwife returned to the village. On the sixth day, the father returned, and seemed surprised to hear that his child was still alive. On the seventh day, the mother left her tent for the first time since the birth, declaring that she was going to check on the child herself. Half the clan seemed to follow behind her, craning their necks to watch the mother’s face. When they neared the place where the infant had been left, the mother’s spirits soared when she did not hear the demon’s screams. They plummeted when the child came into view, her eyes open and her teeth bared. The infant was filthy, her body smeared with mud and her hands almost black with dirt, but she was alive, and so that evening the village gave her the name that was hers by birthright. Her parents never used that name. Her mother only called her “demon” or “curse”. Her father called her nothing at all.
When she was five, the other children-
1. always wanted to play adventurers or paladins or dragons, and Gemma joined in happily. She loved the stories of heroism that her mother had told her before bedtime, and she loved being the hero who kept others safe. Gemma became a sort of ringleader, not because she had any particular ideas or any drive to lead others, but because the other children knew she would be kind and fair and because she would protect them from bullies. When her parents brought her to town so they could sell their crops at market, there was always a group of children clustered around her by the time she got picked up.
2. learned that if their parents saw them playing with the demon child they would get scooped up and admonished for being around her, but if they saw them bullying her, they'd turn a blind eye. When they needed a target for stones, or sticks, or simple childhood cruelty, they knew that they could get away with it if Enna was their choice. Older children would push her down into the dust, younger children would throw rocks and run away, and children her age would hurl insults that they barely understood. This lasted until her baby teeth fell out, her fangs came in, and she bit a chunk out of a teenager’s arm. The teenager healed, but after that everyone gave her a wide berth. She didn't mind that at all.
When she was ten, her father-
1. patted her on the head with his rough hands and told her she was destined for greatness. Gemma was already old enough to take care of her three younger siblings, and she was excited about the baby that was on the way. Now that she was older, she could be given more important tasks on the farm, and tomorrow her mother would show her how to lead the plowhorse through the fields. That night, she could hardly sleep for excitement.
2. was inside the blacksmith’s wagon when it caught on fire. He was pulled out, but was too badly burned for even the healer’s magic to help him. Her mother screamed that she’d seen Enna heading towards the wagon right before the fire, and many in the village took the child’s silence as admission of guilt. Even a barbarian clan has rules, however, and the code of the clan demanded that everyone be given a fair trial. Though the child refused to defend herself, saying that she didn’t know where she had been before her father’s death, and though her mother swore up and down that she had seen the demon walking near the wagon, claiming everything short of seeing Enna put a lighted torch to the wagon herself, it was ultimately decided by the elders that there was not enough evidence to convict a ten-year-old of her father’s murder. This verdict was enough to spare Enna from death or exile, but not enough to wipe her guilt from the minds of her clanmates. Those who had perhaps been inclined to pity the strange girl before now shunned her, turning their children’s heads when they passed her in the camp. Her mother coldly informed her that she was responsible for herself from now on. Perhaps she had hoped that Enna would beg her for food, or starve, or leave, but Enna did none of these things, and continued to cling to life with an iron grip.
When she was fifteen, she left home-
1. one beautiful morning as the sun rose over her family’s fields. Her father had packed her a bag with enough rations to last her a month, her mother had braided her long hair in a beautiful plait, and even her youngest sibling had crawled sleepily out of bed to see her off. She let her tears flow unrestrained down her face as she waved at her family. She wished she didn’t have to go, but she knew that Bahamut had called her to greater things. Still, she walked backwards, waving to her parents and siblings and calling out that she loved them until they were too far away to hear her. Then, with her home at her back, she set out to seek her destiny.
2. in the middle of the night, an hour she knew that nobody was guarding the leader’s tent. After all, who would ever hurt the clan’s beloved guide and guardian, who dispensed perfectly fair justice? Who would ever attempt to steal the clan’s most prized artifact, a two-bladed battleaxe passed down through the generations, able to melt through the most durable of armor and cleave the strongest of opponents in twain? The answer was someone desperate enough to do anything to keep herself safe. Enna crept into the tent, careful to muffle her footsteps, and was for a moment stopped in her tracks by how richly it was decorated. There were thick rugs strewn about on the ground, tapestries woven with golden thread hanging from the tentpoles, and on a beautifully-carved weapon rack hung the clan’s ancestral weapon. She reached out to grab it, but the moment her fingers touched the handle, the axe burst into flames. Startled, she closed her eyes, and when she opened them she was sure she’d gone blind. A thick darkness covered everything in the tent, and though she could still hear the fire crackling she could no longer see it. Terrified, she grabbed the axe and ran out of the tent, relieved to find that the terrible darkness had not consumed the world outside as well. She sprinted through the camp, axe still flaming in her hands, to the place where the horses were kept. There, she untethered her favorite destrier, the one she had once seen kick her master in the face for trying to beat her, and saddled her up. That night, Enna rode out of her clan’s camp into the vast plains and never looked back.
When she was nineteen, her first love-
1. dropped a full platter of spiced potatoes on the floor as she walked through the door of the tavern, resplendent in platinum armor and grinning from ear to ear. Amira ran at her, throwing her arms around her, and Gemma laughed as she lifted her in the air and spun her around. It had been too many years since they had seen each other, but Gemma knew the sound of her laughter like she knew her own heartbeat. When she set her down, Amira breathlessly told her that she’d kept every one of her letters, and Gemma’s eyes shone with tears as she produced a thick sheaf of parchment from her own bags. Overwhelmed, Amira fluttered her hands, and Gemma could not resist the urge to lean forward and kiss her on the forehead. When she stepped back, apologizing for her impulse, Amira smiled at her, caught her face, and pulled her in to kiss her on the lips.
2. laughed at her as she fought back tears. He told the woman in his bed to leave them alone, and she shrugged as she pulled on a tunic and leggings. Enna balled her hands into fists, staring Rodinus in the eye and baring her teeth, and told him he was scum, told him they were breaking up right then and there. He only laughed again and waved a hand dismissively at her. Did she really think he was in love with her, he asked? Had she been under the delusion that they were in a relationship? Did she really think it all meant something? Gods in heaven, he shouted, was she really dumb enough to think he cared? He crossed his arms and dispassionately watched her cry in front of him. Was she so stupid, he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, to think that anyone could ever love a demon like her?
When Gemma was thirty-eight, she met a tiefling whose company was being set upon by Skorn the Merciless, and saved her from certain death at his hands. The tiefling scoffed at her and assured her that she would have been fine, and Gemma smiled, knowing well the confidence born of inexperience. The tiefling’s company was heading to her hometown, so Gemma rode with them, telling them along the way of her adventures. The company helped Mayor Progg with clearing out a camp of attackers, and Gemma only stuck around for long enough to observe the formalities of celebration before she set out on the road again, hoping to make it home soon so she could see her family.
When Enna was twenty-two, she met the great paladin Gemma, the Platinum Defender and hero of Palashuk, and rolled her eyes at the way everyone in the town fawned over her. She also felt a pang of jealousy at how the woman was hailed as a hero, the way everyone around her hung on her every word, the way she commanded respect and appreciation with her every move. That night she smothered that jealousy under a metric fuckton of alcohol and over the next weeks she forgot completely about the paladin.
Author's Notes:
Parallels!!! We love parallels!! This is a backstory fic for Enna and Gemma as she is in Enna's universe, where she's an incredibly successful and beloved paladin and has had significantly fewer problems than she did in her original universe. I was really interested in the way Enna and Gemma converged at way different points in their personal arcs, so I wrote this. I wrote it 7/15/17. Man, I was writing up a storm back then.