by Lucia Ashta
“You almost died.” His voice was low despite the harsh tone of his words, just as it always was when he spoke to me. Even when we were in the confines of our home, the one place where I could be myself, he kept his voice down. I was never fully safe, no matter where I was, not even in the forest we were traversing, not when someone could be hiding behind any one of the trees. If my brother was anything, he was careful, and when it came to me, he was paranoid. “It’s nothing short of faithum that the she-dragon didn’t scent you out and eat you.”
I hadn’t said much at first, resigned to the berating. I figured I owed Rane at least that; after all, he was right, what I’d done was reckless and irresponsible. But he’d been saying different versions of the same thing for half the forest, and I was finished allowing him to beat me up about what I’d already done. I couldn’t take it back, so enough was enough. “But she didn’t eat me.” I wouldn’t deny that she’d scented me, because she had, but if Rane hadn’t realized that from the distance, I wasn’t about to tell him. “And she didn’t burn me to death either.” I knew my twin well enough to anticipate what he’d say next.
“But she almost did. She was this close to cooking you before she ate you.” Rane held his finger and thumb a hair breadth apart while his eyes blazed.
I sighed. “I know what I did was foolish.”
“Foolish?” Rane’s eyes went wild. “Foolish! What you did was beyond foolish. It was….” He threw his hands up in frustration, as if there were no words in existence that might describe how terrible what I’d done was. He groaned, but then softened his voice, and my heart waffled. “It was horrible. Watching you sacrifice yourself like that, knowing chances were high that you’d die.”
Oh man, this was worse than the anger. I could handle anger, but this? My strong brother with unshed tears shining in his eyes? This was agony.
“I thought you were going to die, Nir, right in front of my eyes, and I wouldn’t have even been able to go to you. I would’ve had to pretend that nothing had happened, that luck had saved Dram, and that I hadn’t just lost the most important thing on all of Planet Origins.” Rane’s voice trembled. He cleared his throat and looked away, toward the trees we passed, even though I doubted he noticed a single one.
I reached out and grabbed his hand. If anyone were watching, it would appear as if Rane were talking to himself, his hand held oddly out to the side.
I was pretty sure no one was watching. I’d developed a special sense about things like that. Tingles ran across my body when I was being watched. I supposed it was some kind of self-preservation mechanism. If I’d had to be born invisible, then at least I had some special protections in place to avoid detection.
I tried to pull Rane to a stop, but he kept walking, pulling my hand from his. “Stop,” I called after him as loudly as I dared. I’d spent my entire life speaking so softly that no one but the person immediately next to me would hear. I didn’t even realize I could yell if I wanted. I’d never done it.
“Rane, please,” I tried again, assuming he’d hear me, even if he kept walking. My brother heard me when no other did. He saw me when no one else could. “I’m sorry.” And I was. I wasn’t sorry for saving Dram. I didn’t really know the boy, but he didn’t deserve to die just because the she-dragon was in a feisty mood and he chose the wrong direction to run. But I was sorry for making Rane suffer. I was always sorry when he suffered because of my choices, and he did more often than I wanted.
Finally, Rane halted. He didn’t turn toward me, but he waited for me to catch up. When I did, I reached for his hand again. He let me take it, though he still didn’t look at me, pretending to be absorbed by the forest we walked every day of our lives.
“Rane, I’m really sorry. I just had to do it.”
He spun on me, letting my hand drop. “Why did you have to do it? Why does it always have to be you? No one even knows you exist. No one is kind to you. No one helps you. Why do you always have to be the one to put yourself on the line for everyone else?”
“That’s not fair. I don’t risk myself for others a lot.”
His rich brown eyes didn’t waver as they stared at me—or whatever it was of me he could see. “You risk yourself all the time, far more than you should.”
I didn’t think he was right, but I didn’t dispute the point anymore. I would’ve been upset if he’d put himself in the path of a ferocious dragon too. I changed tactics. “You’re kind to me. You help me.” I felt the smile on my face, but wasn’t sure if he could see it. I was never sure what he could and couldn’t see. It seemed to change, depending on what, neither of us had much of an idea. “You always look out for me,” I said.
“I try, Nir. But what about today? You didn’t let me look out for you. There was nothing I could do but watch on while you were on the path to getting obliterated by that dragon. I thought I was going to lose you.” He gulped noisily, and the guilt wracked me.
I pulled him into an embrace. At first, his body was as rigid as the trees that surrounded us on all sides. But then he melted into me, his arms tightening around me as if the strength of his grip could ensure I’d never leave him. “Just promise me you’ll never do something like that again.”
I wanted to promise him and put his mind at ease, I really did, but how could I? I kept any promise I made, and I couldn’t anticipate what the future would bring. As much as I lamented having put Rane through this torment, I wouldn’t change what I’d done. Dram was alive because of my recklessness. And I’d managed to survive it.
Rane went rigid again. He withdrew his arms from around me, and held them by his side. “You’re not promising me.”
I sighed heavily against my twin’s chest. Already, his body was filling out, his muscles growing rapidly as he approached manhood and the ceremony all men in our tribe underwent. “I can’t.”
“It’s not that you can’t, it’s that you won’t.”
“All right, I won’t,” I said softly, but my words were no less strong because of their volume. I hated causing Rane grief, the one person I loved the most in the world, but I couldn’t change who I was or who I wanted to be because of him. So many of my circumstances were beyond my control, yet the choices I made were something I could control, and I had to be the kind of person I could feel good about. It didn’t much matter that no one beyond my home knew what kind of person I was; I knew.
“You won’t promise because you’ll put yourself in danger like that again, is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m not saying that.” Not exactly. “But you know me, I always keep my promises.”
“So promise me this.”
I actually considered it some more, but no, I couldn’t allow myself to be someone I didn’t want to be. I already was someone I didn’t want to be in the physical sense. “You know I’d promise you if I could.”
“Would you? I’m not so sure. You do whatever you want, whenever you want, not caring what it does to the rest of us.”
“That’s not fair, and that’s not true, and you know it.”
He did know it, I could tell, but he didn’t say it. “I’m only sure of what you showed me today. You were going to make me watch while you killed yourself.”
“But I didn’t die—”
“Aye, but by the oasis, you nearly did. You came so close to it, I swore I could smell charred flesh from where I was.”
“I didn’t get burned.” I had, but not gravely enough to mention, especially not then. “And I didn’t die, and neither did Dram, that’s what’s important.”
“I like Dram just fine, but he’s not what’s important here.”
“He can actually contribute to our people. He can work with the dragons, fulfill our sacred purpose. I can’t do a dang thing.”
That’s when Rane’s shoulders lost their edge. We’d had this conversation a million times before, and never did we reach a satisfactory outcome. That was my burden, to live a life without purpose, without reason or explanation.
Ra
ne said what he’d said before as well, perhaps also a million times. “Of course you have a purpose, and of course you’re important. You’re my sister, my twin.”
“Aye, and twins are forbidden. There’s a reason twins are forbidden, and I’m sure this is one of them.” I pulled a hand from around Rane, and whisked it across my body to emphasize my point, but I had no idea whether he noticed or not. Most of the time, I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know; I didn’t want to take on any more disappointment. The other times, I didn’t ask because I was tired of the same old story. We never reached any resolution. I was a screw-up of nature, and there was nothing either one of us could do to change that.
“Twins might be forbidden, but we don’t really understand why,” Rane said.
“Sure we do. The chieftain says twins are the curse of our people. If any twins live, doom and devastation will befall the Ooba.”
“So the chieftain says.”
That surprised me. “You don’t believe him?”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. I’m tired of believing things without proof. Just because he says something doesn’t mean it’s true.”
I gasped at that, even though I’d purposefully tried not to react. But what Rane was saying was treason. If anyone heard him, he’d be in big trouble, like death trouble. The chieftain ruled with a firm hand. We had peace among our tribespeople, but that was because we all followed his directives. I didn’t always, but he wasn’t aware of me. “I didn’t realize you thought that. I always assumed you accepted what the chieftain said.”
“I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately. About you, about me, trying to figure it all out.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
He shrugged. “What’s there to say? I haven’t figured anything out, but I’m trying.”
“You’re a good brother, you know that?”
He stared at me, then allowed himself a smile. He carried too much worry for someone not even seventeen years old. “You’re a good sister too, when you’re not trying to give me a heart attack. I mean, you do realize you launched yourself at a dragon and slapped her, right? You slapped a freaking dragon.”
I grinned. Now that the danger had passed, it was easy to see how ridiculous my actions had been. “I did slap her, didn’t I?” I laughed.
“You slapped a wild she-dragon in the middle of one of her moods.”
“And lived to tell the tale.” My eyes twinkled. I’d decided to make the most of my life while I could. When a death sentence hung over you since birth, the choice was constant fear or really living. I chose the latter.
“You lived to tell the tale by the skin of your teeth.”
“Aye, that I did. Race you?”
“What, haven’t you had enough running for one day?”
“Running for my life is different. I want to beat you.”
“You? Beat me?”
“You heard me.”
“You know what, I’ll race you. Beating you will help me forget that you survived only because that she-dragon decided to turn back to chase Dram before he could hide from her.”
That, and we’d had to wait her out. The hours had passed while we hid in our caves. Eventually she’d grown bored and taken to the skies. Once she faded from sight, we emerged from our hiding spots and split up to get to our houses as quickly as possible. The dragons didn’t come to the village; they hadn’t for thousands of years, even though nothing really prevented them from doing it—they seemed to like the mountains better than the forests where we lived. We all craved the comfort and relative safety of home. I’d slinked along in the shadows until my brother made his excuses and parted from his friends.
I was ready to let loose. Hiding and sneaking always had that effect on me. Like being in a cramped space for a long time and then needing to stretch.
“There’s no way on O you’ll beat me,” I taunted. “You’re far too slow.”
“Too slow? Me? You must be talking about someone else, maybe Dram.”
“Nah, I’m talking about you,” I said, then took off. Whether or not Rane could see me leaving him in the dust, I wasn’t sure, but he could hear me, and he soon took chase. He followed me all the way home, the last dwelling that edged the thick of the forest, where no one would discover the secrets it held.
My twin and I tied, though I wouldn’t admit it. We’d each pretend we believed we won, until we finally dissolved into laughter, the quiet kind that wouldn’t escape the walls of our home.
Chapter Three
“Rane, wake up.” Ma’s hushed tones woke me from my slumber, even if I wasn’t the one she’d intended to wake.
Rane groaned and turned onto his side, bumping into me. “What is it, Ma? Isn’t it still early?”
“It’s not that early, the Suxle Sun is already peeking above the horizon.”
“The tall horizon marked by the mountains, or the low horizon of the rock plains?”
“Does it matter? The chieftain has called all men, who have the inclination to train dragons, to meet with him.”
Rane sat straight up, pulling the blankets off me. “What?” He suddenly sounded as alert as if it were the middle of the day.
“The chieftain has called a gathering of all men who intend to work with the dragons.”
“All men? Does that include me, you think?”
“Of course it does.”
“But I haven’t had my manhood ceremony yet.”
“No, but you will soon. The chieftain’s proclamation was clear. Any of the tribe who are training, or who will soon be training. That means you.”
“And what of the women?” I asked. “Are they allowed to be part of this gathering?”
Ma looked at where she guessed I rested, next to my brother, where I’d slept since we were infants. He was my protector, even in sleep. “I assume his invitation includes women, but only those with special proclivities toward dragon training. Only those who already have a connection with the beasts. It doesn’t include you.”
“But I’m the exact same age as Rane.”
“Not quite,” he said. “I’m older than you.”
“Aye, by a few minutes.”
“I’m still older.”
I ignored him. This particular argument was a favorite of his. I sat up too. “Ma, why can’t I be a part of this?”
“You have no experience with dragons, Anira. I’m sorry, this isn’t for you, just your brother.”
“What’s new?” I grumbled, and fell back against the bed loudly. “Nothing’s for me. Ever.” I rolled onto my side, pulling my legs into my chest, facing away from my brother and mother, not that she’d be able to tell. Even though she’d given birth to me, and all my oddity, she couldn’t see me.
“Come on, Nir—” Rane started, but our mother interrupted him.
“Anira, the job of working with dragons is dangerous. Your life is already dangerous enough. I live in constant fear of what might happen if anyone were to discover you. There’s no way you can do this. You can’t go to the gathering, and you can’t train with dragons, you realize this. Even if you had the talent to work with dragons, which we don’t know if you do, the dragon charmers would have to accept you into training. They’d have to find out about you, and they can’t. There’s absolutely no way to make it happen. The chieftain would order you killed before you could show up for initiation.”
“Aye, I’m well aware of all that.” The blankets muffled my words and anguish. I’d only just woken up, and already I felt like crying. There were some days that just weren’t worth starting. I should go back to sleep and forget I wasn’t allowed to be part of the world into which I’d been born.
Mother rounded the bed and came to my side. She used her hand to feel for my body before sinking onto the bed next to my feet. She patted my body until she found my back, and started rubbing it. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed, my little love.”
“Nothing new there, and I’m not little anymore, Ma. I want to live my life
already, but my life’s one big disappointment after another.” I sensed a shift in her energy, and immediately regretted my words. Her sadness washed over me in waves. I realized my situation was hard on her as well. Every day she hid me from the tribe, she risked her own life. If I were discovered, she’d be punished for bringing me into this world and allowing me to continue.
But even with her life in constant danger because of me, what caused her the most suffering was accepting that I couldn’t really enjoy my life. At most, concealed in the shadows, I could live half a life. I’d never have a purpose or a family of my own. I’d never have the freedom to follow my heart. Always there’d be the constraints of my birth and freakish nature, of the rules that forbade my very existence.
Mother suffered because of all of this, a burden she shouldered alone now that Father and our older brother were gone. It was a great weight for a single mother raising three children, one of whom was more trouble than all the rest.
“Sorry, Ma, I didn’t mean it,” I said, even though I’d meant every word. The disappointments were all-consuming at times. Some days, it took all the strength I had to see the blessings in my life and decide it was worth living. “It’s just that I’d love to have the chance to work with the dragons, that’s all. It would be so great to be part of fulfilling our tribe’s sacred purpose.”
Mother didn’t answer right away, but when she did, lament continued to lace her words. “I know you do. I understand you better than you think, and I’d give anything to gift you the freedom you long for.”
I wanted to pull away from her, to retreat and feel nice and sorry for myself. But instead, I forced myself to bring my hand to her arm and say, “You’ve already gifted me with life. There’s nothing more I ask of you.”