by Kayla Maya
“Help!” Bryn screamed. “Help! He’s bleeding!”
“Bryn,” Lukas coughed, blood spurting from his mouth. “Stop.”
“Help!” She continued to shout. “Please!”
An older gentleman in a white robe came running, unfolding a weird tool that Bryn did not recognize. The older man placed the small silver piece onto Lukas’ chest, placing two small thin silver pieces into his ear, almost as if to listen. The doctor then explained to her that the object was called a “stethoscope.” Bryn watched in anticipation, the storm above brewing and threatening to coat the ground in rain. Lukas coughed again, pushing the doctor away from him to retch up more blood. The doctor sighed, placing the silver tool around his neck and offering Lukas a rag to wipe his mouth with.
“I’m afraid your brother does not have long to live,” the doctor turned to Bryn. “He has Black Lung, a common yet deadly disease that only miners have. However, I am not entirely sure if he will survive. That was an explosion, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he had internal bleeding.”
Bryn’s heart turned ice-cold, the clouds opening up to flood the area with water. The tears that she would not shed, the sky shed for her. Her oldest brother, the one who took care of them, was dying. Just like her mother, just like her father all that time ago. She fell to her knees, shaking as her whole life started to wilt and die around her. Her family was close to malnutrition, winter was rapidly approaching, and now, Lukas, the man who made them whole, kept them sane, was dying before Bryn’s very eyes. The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder, helping her up and having her beside her brother.
“He doesn’t have long,” he told her. “Take him home and make him comfortable.”
And so, Bryn did. It took her a while to get her sick brother home, and once she did, she had him isolated in his room, his coughing raging by the minute. She made him soup out of what he bought in the markets today and tore apart a piece of bread to have him eat. Bryn locked the door behind her, setting the tray on her knees and using the spoon to feed Lukas, who struggled to keep his food down. He coughed up blood and what soup she had shoved down his throat. He was getting worse, and there was nothing Bryn could do about it. Her useless magic to control the storms could not help her in this situation, hell, it couldn’t even help anything. Storms were useless. She sat back, recalling the memory of Lukas saving her last night…
Bryn tore off her apron, reaching into the barrel beside the front door. She glanced behind her at the wide-open door that led back into the seamstress’ shop, back to where four giggling girls were awaiting Bryn’s arrival to signal the end of the poking of the needles. She thanked the gods when Mrs. Foster didn’t show up after Bryn’s outburst at the girls. She never disliked her own kind, being a young woman herself, yet seeing and hearing these swooning girls had pushed Bryn over the edge after hearing the endless gossip and the endless “he said” “she said” comments. It irked Bryn enough that she threw a mini tantrum, throwing her hands in the air and complaining that most girls have a “simple” life compared to Bryn’s one of poverty. She had been so upset that she nearly let out her magic. Almost. Growling to herself, she made her way down the street and straight into the crowd. It was nearly four in the evening, which meant the rush hour had arrived, an hour that Bryn secretly relished. Now was the time to steal.
Quickly, she buzzed around, her eyes wandering to anything that holds value, even the ones that she knew would not bring in the most coin. Coin was coin in Skeg, and unfortunately, it wasn’t in abundance in this small city. Coin, just like food, was scarce, and it was a hardship Bryn knew all too well, being the second eldest, among the ones to take care of the family. Except that Lukas was far better at caring for the family than she ever could. Mainly because having a job meant commitment, something that Bryn had a hard time achieving. It was a reason she did not date; she was not going to commit to anyone or anything.
“Watch out!”
Bryn sidestepped, offering her apologies as she stuffed the man’s watch into her pocket, a small smile creeping up her face. For all the man knew, was that she nearly run into him, not pickpocketing his costly looking gold watch. She kept her ears and eyes wide open for any sign of the king’s guard or anyone that noticed her stealing from the townsfolk. Slowly, the evening started to turn to night, and with it, the pickings. Sighing, and making sure no one was around, Bryn made her slow descent home. That is until she ran directly into the chest of a tall, muscular man. Luckily, she managed to right herself before she fell, her hands instantly going to her purse and pockets, finding them empty.
“Give me back my stuff!” Bryn blew out her chest, hoping to appear bigger to the man. “Those are mine.”
“You mean the items that you stole from innocent people? How about I keep them for myself?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, white teeth shimmering in the waning light as he smiled down at Bryn.
She opened her mouth, but it was another voice who spoke. This voice, sounding an awful lot like her long-dead father. She felt a pang in her heart, almost like a knife being twisted deep within. “I’m sorry for my sister, sir. She doesn’t understand. I’m sorry. She didn’t mean to bother you.”
“I did—” Bryn started.
“Please, sir. We were just leaving, right, Bryn?” Lukas didn’t even bother waiting for Bryn’s response as he grabbed her arm and hauled her away from the man with the shining teeth, a man who had won tons of coin for Bryn’s expense. The coin that she worked so hard for during the evening of dodging townsfolk and the king's guard. For Lukas to just offer it away was unheard of! Unjust! If anything, Bryn should kick him, maybe even sell him to the black market on Thursday nights for a good chunk of coin. Most women would pay to have a pretty-faced man. Well, if the pretty-faced man wasn’t covered head to toe in dust and dirt from working a long shift in the mines that same day. Once they were out of earshot of the man and hidden behind an alcove of homes, Lukas flung Bryn to the side, his bright eyes flaring to life with anger.
“Mrs. Foster came and found me after my shift,” Lukas explained. “She told me that you yelled at a group of girls for being girls, and then stormed off. Why Bryn? This was your third job in a week!”
Bryn shuffled back, seeming smaller than her eighteen years. Lukas could be menacing, if not father-like, if he wanted to. His anger was no doubt a product of a bad day at work. A large quota had to be met, and if one worker does not mean quota.
“I mean, what were you thinking, Bryn?” He continued. “Do you want me to die of exhaustion for being the only one working in the family?”
“No,” Bryn sighed. “I’m sorry, Lukas. I really am. I promise that—”
“No,” Lukas pinched the bridge of her nose. “I think I’ve heard enough for one night. I shouldn’t have to bail you out for stealing when you shouldn’t have in the first place. I thought you shed that life months ago. You told me that you did.”
“I did until those girls made me angry.” Even talking about it sent Bryn’s blood boiling, her anger mixing with the sky, creating storm clouds. “They’re so normal, Lukas. Not a care in the world. They talked about stories like Father used to…”
Lukas sighed, placing a comforting arm around Bryn’s shoulders. “I know. I know. I miss Father too. I miss him every day, and it hurts knowing that he won’t see us, or the others grow up to become fine men and women that he raised us to be. I know we don’t have much, but one thing is certain. We’re family, and family sticks together. You got that? I’m not going anywhere, not for a very long time.”
The storm clouds rolled away, replacing the night sky with a bright full moon, a very few meager clouds idling by. Bryn released her breath; she didn’t know she held in. Being near Lukas reminded her of what it was like back when their father was still alive, a time where they didn’t have it work so hard, a time where Bryn herself felt…normal. Lukas took up the mantle of becoming the breadwinner, ever since their mother came down with a sudden illness. Ever since then, he s
tarted to act like their father, like he knew that they were all he had and vice versa. As Lukas steered them in the direction for home, Bryn glanced up at the sky, watching as a star shot through the night. Closing her eyes, she remembered the night her father told her what to do with a shooting star.
“Whenever you see a shooting star, my little raven, wish upon it.” Bryn’s father smiled down at her, holding her in his arms as she pointed with her tiny little fingers as shooting star after shooting star shot across the sky, illuminating the night with sparks. “And don’t forget that I will always be there for you. In life and death.”
I’ll never forget you, Father; Bryn opened her eyes. She glanced up to see a dark night with twinkling stars. She smiled at Lukas, hoping that he, too, would remember the same night their father taught them shooting stars. Together, they walked out of the city and into the dark night.
“B—Bryn.” Lukas choked on some blood, coughing, and hacking. He relaxed a small smile on his face. “Take care of the family for me. Tell them all how sorry I am, will you?”
“Don’t talk like that, Lukas!” Bryn cowered, her whole body shaking uncontrollably as her body quaked with tears and so much emotion that it threatened to swallow her up like an ocean would a plot of sand. “You’ll be fine! I promise!”
Lukas smiled at her, closing his eyes and leaning back, his chest slowly shaking as he took shallow breaths. Bryn sprang to his side, gripping his hand as he drew his last breath, the air escaping his slightly parted lips. Just like that, Lukas was gone, and with it, all of Bryn’s hopes for a better life. Lukas was supposed to keep the family together. Lukas was supposed to provide for the family with money while she stole coins to help them get by. Lukas was supposed to help teach the little ones how to read and write, how to behave like adults. Without him, all Bryn’s hopes were lost. Standing and drawing the covers over Lukas’ ashen form, Bryn stepped out of the room, locking it behind her to prevent her younger siblings from entering. Luckily for her, they were napping for the day, all except for Lilac, who was missing. How odd. She took a step towards the front door when it swung open, and Lilac’s friend, Brandon, stood in the doorway. He was in rough shape with bruises crawling up the sides of his face and blood coating his clothing. At the sight of him, it turned Bryn’s heart ice cold.
“Where’s Lilac?” Bryn rushed to the door, sliding to her knees in front of the young boy who began to weep. She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “Where. Is. Lilac?”
“In the courtyard! We got caught stealing. I got away, but the guards took her, and the king has her now. Said he was going to make it public.” Brandon sniffled, trying to snuggle into Bryn’s chest. “Bryn?”
She didn’t stop. She raced out into the waning day, the sky thundering and turning cloudy as it began to pour down. The clouds shed the tears that Bryn would not, and she would prefer to keep it that way. She made it to the courtyard in front of the castle as a crowd of people all stood about murmuring and pointing. Bryn ducked and shoved her way up to the front to see Lilac with no scratch on her. However, her tiny body was held down by two guards, one holding her down while the other held her tiny hand out on a log. The guard hefted the axe, lightly touching the area a little bit below the wrist. Bryn’s heart froze over. Surely, they wouldn’t cut off an eight-year old’s hand, would they? She knew no better and—
“People of Serena!”
Bryn’s head snapped up to the balcony, where the king stood in all his regal glory. He wore a mask that of a dragon’s head to keep his real identity from being seen. He feared those who would see his unmasked face. The mask was a vibrant red with ridges to make it look and resemble that of scales, with golden eyebrows along the large eyes, and several white fangs protruding from the mask’s mouth. She kept her hands at her sides, the rain pouring down all around them, the thunder in the sky cracking. Bryn was about to lose control.
“This young thief had tried to steal one of my many crown jewels. Do you know what I do with thieves?” the king asked, eyes darting around the crowd. Satisfied that no one answered, he spread his arms out wide. “Why, I will tell you good folk! We chop the hand of the thief who tried to steal from me, from us. Those jewels keep this city going, keeps all of us going during these tough times. So, today, I will show you all not to trifle with me, Your king!”
“She’s just a child!” one woman yelled into the crowd. “Don’t do this!”
“If I don’t then who’s to say she will not steal again? Except for this time from you?” The king narrowed his eyes, and the woman backed down, hiding her face from his view.
Bryn made a move to step forward, but a strong hand gripped her upper arm, drawing her back. “Don’t,” the voice hissed into her ear. “He will catch you.”
Bryn wretched out of his grasp, whirling to face the man who had touched her. She was met with a boy her age wearing a cloak that covered his features. Only his nose and mouth were visible, the five o'clock shadow covering his jaw. He was dressed head to toe in black, a scowl marring his face. A face that Bryn could only guess was handsome.
“That’s my sister out there!” Bryn hissed back. “I have to help her!”
“Doing so will only result in your death.” He slid farther back into the crowd, his voice but a distant memory as Bryn forced herself to remain calm as the guard lifted the axe into the air. Time seemed to slow as the axe made its way to Lilac’s hand; the young girl’s eyes widened in fear as she watched the axe arch towards her. Bryn reacted, holding out her hand. At that moment, a lightning bolt struck the guard with the axe, flinging him back into the wall, making the terrace the king stood shake. The king held onto the bars, eyes darting around until they landed on Bryn’s form with her outstretched hand. The guard holding Lilac was flung from the impact, releasing the young girl and allowing her ample time to escape. The king pointed at Bryn, his eyes blazing like hot coals on a fire.
“Get her.”
CHAPTER THREE
Bryn snaked around a bend, skidding along the slick cobblestones as she raced down an alleyway, six guards flanking her from behind. The air around her chilled, the droplets falling in slow motion around her as her feet pounded on the ground. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her eyes darting to and fro, searching for an escape route. A guard grabbed her shoulder, yanking her to the ground. The thunder cracked in the sky, rain pelting the guards and Bryn herself. All at once, the wind picked up, whipping her soaked hair into her face. The hairs on her arms standing up as the guard who held her lifted off the ground and then tossed to the side like a ragdoll. The other guards backed up as Bryn inspected her outstretched hands. Had she really used the wind to help? As far as she knew, she could only control the weather, and not by her choice as she could not determine how she could even use it.
“Run, idiot!”
Bryn sprang into action. Sprinting off in the opposite direction, she used her emotions to stir up the weather, the rain now transforming into hail. She heard footsteps slapping alongside hers and glanced around to see the man from the courtyard running alongside her on the rooftops, his cloak billowing behind him. He turned his head, the hood falling from his face to show Bryn his features.
“Over there! I see her!”
Bryn glanced behind her, five guards racing after her with weapons raised. She used her momentum, pivoting her body to the side, and summoning a lightning bolt at the five guards. The guards shouted, two getting obliterated upon impact, the other three getting thrown against the buildings, weapons discarded. The houses around caught fire, the flames billowing in the air. Bryn slowed, her heart hammering in her chest as she followed the stranger down a narrow alley, keeping to the shadows. She squatted down, hiding behind a nearby trashcan. Her ears rang and popped as the wind picked up to an unimaginable level as it tossed another guard to the side. Now there were two left. Bryn remained hunkered down behind her trash can, keeping her shallow breaths in check to not alert the guards to her location.
“Where did she go
?” one guard asked the other.
“I don’t know. Let’s check this way.”
The guards raced off in a different direction, shouting into the day. The young man dropped down from the roof, landing lightly beside Bryn, his hood replacing his features. She frowned, hoping to get a better glance at her savior, the man who just conjured up the winds and didn’t even seem fazed by the ordeal at all. Bryn’s main concern was why on earth he had helped her in the first place instead of just fleeing like the rest of the townsfolk did. She prayed to whatever gods there were that he was on her side and not the King’s.
“I told you they would try to kill you.” He shook out his cloak, his eyes blazing behind his hood. “Can you call off the storm, please? I don’t fancy getting pneumonia.”
“I—I don’t know how to,” Bryn confessed. “All I know is that it has something to do with my emotions.”
He sighed. “Fine. But we can’t stay here, do you have anywhere to go?”
Bryn stood. “I have a home. Wait, where are you going?”
The man replaced his hood, but not before Bryn caught a look at his features. He had broad shoulders, with a slender neck. His nose was crooked like he had gotten into a fight in recent months, and his right eyebrow had a few hairs missing in an angular line. His bright blue eyes were filled with liquid fire, his stare intense, chestnut hair cropped short on the sides and longer on the top. Even with all that demeanor, Bryn still thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. With his hood replaced, he faced her, arms crossed over his chest as the necklace he wore swung into view. The necklace was of a crow, with two arrows behind making it an X. Bryn gripped her own necklace, rubbing it with her two fingers.