Elise sat silently on the crest of the hill. She took one last drag from the cigarette in her mouth and flicked it away. A soldier approached from behind her.
"Ma'am," the soldier began timidly. "You're needed back at the camp, with the Commander..." It seemed she was reluctant to finish that particular thought.
Elise said nothing. She sat for a few more minutes, then she used her spear to get to her feet. "It's not worth it, you know," she said as she turned to walk to the camp.
The soldier hesitated. "What do you mean, Ma'am?" she asked.
Elise stopped for a moment a looked the young soldier in the face. She laughed, but it was not a happy sound. "I've been with the Legion since I was younger than you. Almost four decades now. Today was just another day where I lost friends. It's not worth it. It's not worth it... to be the lucky one."
Monday, November 11, 2013
Monday, November 4, 2013
Ice and Blood
Winter's silence enveloped the lake as Bradley looked over it's frozen surface at the fading light of the sun. It was finally over. He had been just a boy when he met Dawn at this very lake all those years ago, to welcome her home from the Academy. For him, it seemed a lifetime ago.
"Brother," a small voice said from behind him.
He smiled. "Annabelle," he said without hesitation. "You should go back to the castle. It's very cold today."
The young woman walked to his side. She was taller than he, and well-built. She had sandy hair, unlike his, which was such a shade of blond as to be nearly devoid of color. But their eyes showed without doubt their relation: the same icy blue-grey that their father's had been.
After a long moment, she spoke again. "Why did it happen, Brother?" Her voice was filled with confusion and sorrow. "Why did Father do that?"
Bradley turned to her and looked her in the face. He took her hand in his and ran her fingers across the scars that covered it. "Each of these scars," he said in a tone she had only heard him use once before. "Each of them, and the many more that you cannot see. Each of them came from the actions of the man who called himself our father."
Her eyes filled with tears. "But... why? Why did he hurt you? Why did he kill David?"
He turned back to face the lake once more. "It's cold, Annabelle," he said, "Just like him. Our father was as simple as a winter's day. He cared nothing for anyone, except for himself. He only wished to see himself elevated, at any cost. David died because a son who could not win him glory meant nothing to him. I got these scars for the same reason." He paused and then turned back to her once more. What she saw in his eyes made her cringe back from him. "I killed him, and I would again, a thousand times for what he did to me. To David. What he no doubt planned for you."
Annabelle's voice deserted her as she became lost in her brother's eyes. They burned with a cold fire, a passion that was wonderful and terrible at the same moment. They frightened her beyond words, because it was the same fire she had seen in their father's eyes...
The fire faded, and he smiled sadly. "Let's go back," he said at last. "It's cold."
"Brother," a small voice said from behind him.
He smiled. "Annabelle," he said without hesitation. "You should go back to the castle. It's very cold today."
The young woman walked to his side. She was taller than he, and well-built. She had sandy hair, unlike his, which was such a shade of blond as to be nearly devoid of color. But their eyes showed without doubt their relation: the same icy blue-grey that their father's had been.
After a long moment, she spoke again. "Why did it happen, Brother?" Her voice was filled with confusion and sorrow. "Why did Father do that?"
Bradley turned to her and looked her in the face. He took her hand in his and ran her fingers across the scars that covered it. "Each of these scars," he said in a tone she had only heard him use once before. "Each of them, and the many more that you cannot see. Each of them came from the actions of the man who called himself our father."
Her eyes filled with tears. "But... why? Why did he hurt you? Why did he kill David?"
He turned back to face the lake once more. "It's cold, Annabelle," he said, "Just like him. Our father was as simple as a winter's day. He cared nothing for anyone, except for himself. He only wished to see himself elevated, at any cost. David died because a son who could not win him glory meant nothing to him. I got these scars for the same reason." He paused and then turned back to her once more. What she saw in his eyes made her cringe back from him. "I killed him, and I would again, a thousand times for what he did to me. To David. What he no doubt planned for you."
Annabelle's voice deserted her as she became lost in her brother's eyes. They burned with a cold fire, a passion that was wonderful and terrible at the same moment. They frightened her beyond words, because it was the same fire she had seen in their father's eyes...
The fire faded, and he smiled sadly. "Let's go back," he said at last. "It's cold."
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