Four
Nathanael
I was terrified of the sky. I had only ever seen it through windows and it seemed endless like a sea one could drown in. I would lay in the sun of the window but face away from the outside so I would not have to look up into the sky. Due to this I laid like a cat, stretched out on a green fainting couch in front of the largest window in the cabin, drowsy and comfortable.
A day had passed since I learned that I was going to die. A day had passed since my father, grieved with my anger, chastised me. Anger was no emotion for a prince or a King to display, that was allowing the emotion to control you instead of you controlling it. I was not to show such feelings at my fate.
Today Drefan came home from a nearly yearlong trip north. I did not know why or how, but that he had gone north and came home. Why did he have to come back? It wasn’t that I disliked him, but the house was much more peaceful without him here. I could remember yelling and arguing at all hours of the night. I remembered Thom distraught one evening, coming to me, keeping me from going into the basement. I learned later from overhearing that Drefan had cut himself, deep this time, and had been bleeding in his room until his mother had bound the wounds.
But I shouldn’t think bad things about Drefan. His family was that much happier when he was around, especially Thom. I just didn’t understand why Drefan did the things he did. Why did he cut himself? Wouldn’t that just hurt and nothing more? What did he see in pain? What did he want from it?
I looked through the window at the Sovereign Guard who sat on the front porch steps. There were always at least two guards on duty at the cabin, but both of them stuck close to the front and back doors. Two from Royale, and two from Camar’a. The two from Camar’a were part of the Sovereign Guard, they protected the royal family and could be recognized by their uniforms. A gold, black, and aqua brocade coat over a gold and aqua vest beneath, layered over the aqua tights that slipped into black knee-high leather boots.
My eyes strayed to the kitchen which was the second door to my right. The kitchen knives were all held in a wooden holder. Standing, shaking, my blanket fell to my feet as I looked around our living room at the wooden furniture and coffee table. The walls were covered in small paintings of my ancestors. I walked into the kitchen, the un-shaded windows providing the only light. Taking a large knife from the holder, I curiously stared at it, and then my forearm.
Laying it against the skin of my lower left arm I chewed on my lip letting it slice. All thought left my body; I gasped a whine also escaping my lips, finding at that moment that I drew pleasure from pain. I found out later that my eyes would be blood-red as they are every time I experience pain. I could see nothing but a haze of red, but I could hear.
A knock at the front door.
Fumbling, the kitchen knife slid through my blood-soaked fingers to clatter to the kitchen floor. Blood sprayed from the blade over the tile as my eyes came into focus, to stare at what I had done. Then in slow motion, my eyes moved from the blade to the bubbling red froth upon my arm. It began to flow thick like syrup, rolling off my pale flesh to drop to the floor below.
Drip…Drip…Drip….
( More writing behind the Cut ) Three
Drefan
I crumpled against the wall of the spiral staircase. Thank the Gods I was alone while I wheezed, a hand grasping at my tunic, right over my breast bone. The tightness in my chest was crippling as I sank onto the stone step. I couldn’t even manage the stairs without my lungs giving out on me? Was this from the dredge? From the opium? I had been gone for a little over a year and my time on the mat was the majority of those hours. I hung my head between my knees, coughing. I just needed time...
No one could see me like this. But if this was what would happen when I climbed a set of damned stairs… This body was starting to fail me, wasn’t it? But that was no one’s fault but my own. I wasn’t dying...was I? The door overhead opened and I surged to my feet. Hacking another cough I stuffed my hands back into my pockets. Taking on that uncaring demeanor that I was known for. No one was allowed to know how bad off I was. No one.
I acknowledged the servant that passed by with a quick bow of my head, the respectful greeting was given regardless of rank. This also afforded me the chance to keep my face concealed so any pain that was written on my features would not be seen. Coming to a stop at the higher exit to the stairs, I took in a deep whistling breath before stepping into another long hallway. Black Guards blended into the dark stone walls in measured intervals on both sides.
Ignoring everything but why I was even in this hallway, I knocked on the door to my brother’s bed-chamber. There was the scratch of a wooden chair on the floor before the door was opened and green eyes peered out at me. Seeing me for who I was, Thom fully opened the door with a smile and invited me in. But as soon as that door closed I was backed up against it and arms encircled my middle. I puffed out a startled breath, stiffening at first, not expecting Thom to immediately embrace me.
“Thom,” I managed before I was coughing again.
“You sound awful,” Thom began and his green eyes widened, “You sound as bad as Nate sounds!”
Hands pressed against my chest to hold me where I was and he leans his ear against me. There was no way to hide the wheezing and the tightness in my chest. Thom looked up at me with dawning horror in his eyes while his freckled cheeks lost their color.
“We have to talk to a healer!”
“No,” I grasped one of my brother’s hands in mine, “I don’t need any of this to get back to father. You know how much he hates weakness.”
“But-,” sorrow clouded those bright green eyes, “What if you die?!”
“It’s not that bad,” I lied as I needed time to figure out what I could do if it was as bad as that.
“How can you be so sure? You were away for months, smoking that stuff for so long. Who knows what it did to you! Dref, you can’t just brush me off like this. I saw you half-dead in the back of that cart. I won’t ever forget seeing that.”
“He has a point.”
I grabbed at the hands that held me to that door. If I was going to say anything else it was not going to be so easily heard by the Black Guards in the hallway. Thom released me now and I made for the bed. Sweeping a look at my brother’s room, it hardly looked lived in. The desk was the only spot that looked used, with stacked books on Royalian laws and discourse on top of various pieces of paper. So Thom was spending that much more time at the cabin, was he sleeping there too?
I settled on the edge of the bed, waiting for my brother to sit beside me.
“Nath’s gotten worse, hasn’t he?” Pivoting myself, our knees just touched.
Thom gave me a look at the change in conversation, but his shoulders let go and he crumbled beside me, “Yes…”
Shit.
Thom shakes his head hard and he takes in a deep breath, “I’m not stupid, I know you won't tell me why you left and that’s fine, but I am going to demand to know what’s wrong with you!”
I couldn’t look him in the eyes, I never could. I had promised when I first saw him in that cradle that I would protect him from whatever Robert threw at the both of us. I took my victories from the way that Thom could still smile like nothing in the world was wrong and how his eyes still lit up like rays of sunshine. I could not have failed him that badly then or so I told myself.
But I should never have gone into the deserts without him. I had promised to protect him and for the first time in my life, I had left him unprotected, for months. I had to hold myself back from asking if there was anything wrong with him. But father would have made Thom forget any hurtful words or grasping hands. Thom was his heir. The only way to know if anything untoward had happened was to demand to see any marks or new scars on him and such an order would come across as insane and invasive. So I stewed and I concentrated on what had Thom worried about in this present moment. My health, my well-being. Neither my father nor I deserved him.
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