It seems cruel, doesn't it? This day seemed blissfully like any other, a chaotic array of the mundane and the decadent, my brother came in early this morning to give me the reports as he always does, never a hair out of place or a step out of line, Kietyn is like finely wound clockwork, ne'er missing a second, every passing thing caught in those dark eyes. But today they were troubled, a furrow knitting that perfect brow, and for once he set the papers aside, leaning over my desk to meet my gaze. A cloud of foreboding over the good mood I had set for myself today.
I remember being annoyed that he had not already left, as I wanted to finish the necessities and get out of the house with some haste. There was a shipment to be arranged, and after it I'd been invited to a gathering of my fellows, as one of their fathers had accidentally had an extra case of fine red wine delivered to their property. Before all of that would come tea, mind, tea brought by the one girl I'd ever given half a damn about...the rather devilishly lovely creature that is my sister. She knows just how much sugar I'm fond of by now...but she won't dare to enter the room whilst any business transactions, imagined or otherwise, are going on between myself and a client...or even my frump of an elder sibling.
So yes, I was scowling at him, hinting that I wished both himself and his mission gone from my private sanctum. I'd yet to even fully dress, clad only in tunic and pants, hair mussed and my delightfully bare feet had been propped upon the mahogany surface of the desk not seconds before. Now they were cringing in the woven fibers of the rug in silent penitence. “Was there something...?” I could not keep the annoyance from my tone, an attempt to swat the fly of duty that buzzed about my head by way of my brother's stare. Ah gods, that I did not notice the storm clouds gathering in his eyes...
“Soraida...” There was a thrum of brotherly affection in the words that I'd but once heard in his tone before...when our father passed, and with Kisana in tears, he had been my only comfort. My heart sank. “You have been chosen to go this time...to be the Sacrifice.”
And the storm burst...I could almost feel the thunder in my ears and the torrential downpour soaking me to the skin. I've lived for nearly seventeen years and never once have I been at so complete a loss as to what I need say. I know I must have looked the idiot, sitting there, looking like a confused fawn at its first glimpse at humanity...the moment before its throat is slit.
As always, I went with my first impulse, the grief, indignation and denial all accumulating into one terrible ball of rage, one that bundled within me and one that I was only too glad to let fly. “Why!?” I don't remember getting to my feet, but there I was, slamming my fist on the desk in all the impotent rage of a five-year-old sent to his room. “Why me!? Have I not had enough happen within past months? Is this the way I should end!” I could no longer look at his sad eyes, lest the pang of guilt that his own reluctance had seeded in my chest blossom and cause me to rethink the cleansing wrath that had o'ertaken me.
Why had they selected me? Out of all the youth in this place it had been I that they would pluck and send away... I knew they had a council set up to decide such things, so that all would be considered, and the fairest choice made. But I'd never once thought that it would be me, the thought had not even dared to cross my mind. It was always something that happened to others...I was exempt, I was safe. I had my family and naught could touch us. Perfect, we were not...but we'd been happy. Then again, with the passing of my father, very little had been right in the world.
Kietyn's silence was infuriating. I could feel my whole being shaking... as it was unsure whether tears or laughter should be appropriate in this time of duress. Ah gods oh gods... Everything that I had ever done or planned for myself was crumbling, even as I snatched at it with hands unseen...and in that desperation, I could feel that anger, the adhesive that was holding my fragile parts together, slipping away.
Of course it had been me. Naturally. I was the second son, not the first...I possessed skills, good ones, but not ones that are irreplaceable or in some cases...could be done without. I am not my brother, I am not my father, I am not my darling sister (and I am shamed, that for a fleeting second I wished her in my place) who has a bright future before her, a marriage arranged that she does not fear. Family and warmth await her whilst mine parts before me, no longer whole.
How dare I? How dare I even think that I am too good to go? Too valuable an individual to be spared sacrifice? Running fingers through my hair, I relished the pains of each and every snag that had been wound in over the course of the night, and slowly I turned, taking that deep breath before the plunge. My outburst was already a shame to my family, and I whispered silent thanks to the goddess that my brother had been the only one present to see it, that my father was gone, and could not see my cowardice, that my duty-bound mother had not witnessed my childishness. “My apologies, brother...” My eyes fixed on him, and I immediately felt remorse for the hesitance I saw lurking in his posture. “I understand...and I will go.” Words had never been very plentiful between us, the years a great divide that we'd never fully bridged.
He nodded, in his own sort of grief, and I wondered then if he'd argued with the council when they'd brought the news, unwilling to lose yet another family member to circumstances beyond his control. My poor, dear brother...it would be mother to whom he had to deliver the bad tidings to next, and I could see the dread in every step as he left the room.
Seconds after he was gone, as I crumpled from within...I heard the creak of the door, hinges that had gone un-oiled for over a month now. There was a patter of feet...and then they stopped, my sister standing in the middle of the rug, her delicate hands over her mouth as doe-like eyes shimmered with unshed tears...and I knew then that she'd heard every word. There was no need to hide from her.
With the steps of the condemned I came around the desk, and she flew to my arms...as wetness stained silks...I too allowed myself the luxury. I was afraid, the great dark terrors of the unknown rising up to choke me...and my own hot tears dampened her ebon hair as I crushed her to my chest. For Kisana...and for the memory of my father...I would honor my family. After all, those were the only reasons I gave a damn about any longer.
