OBLIVION

It was hot the evening it happened. I remember that detail specifically because I was wearing my brother’s pants. They clung to the skin of my legs along with all the sweat and dirt as the day progressed, leaving me limp, sloppy, and miserable with those damp trousers hanging on for dear life around my waist. I also remember the wonder that filled me when he kept his promise. 

Emric, my brother who I had always looked up to, who I always believed to be the strongest out of all of us, had vowed to me more times than I can count he’d take me into town. Not the square where we would go with Bast’s father to sell trinkets and buy sweet rolls, but just beyond the outskirts near the Jarl’s palace. I had never been before, but I heard stories of the beautiful women and rich men who crowded the streets there, clothed in their fresh silk and bright colors smudged on their cheeks. Emric would tell of his own visits. He’d recount the occasions with his hands swinging in front of him about the plump jeweler and the book store trimmed in gold. He told me he’d take me. He had sealed dozens of pinky promises, and in return gave me countless taffy sweets as apologies for not following through. 

It was finally on this day, the day when I had no clean clothes except for those wrinkled pair of pants and the slick layer of muck on my face, that he decided it was time for me to come along. 

I was slumped forward, laying across the floor with a scroll stretched out underneath my small frame. The house carried the stench of dust and aged goat milk from mother and father leaving to visit one of the neighboring kingdoms, no baking sugar to fill the walls.

Emric had just finished closing all the windows to block out the retreating sun when he turned to me. His bright, blue eyes–always a sharp contrast to mine made of syrup–gleamed in the remaining light. His smile was wide as he sucked on a stalk of wheat resting between his lips. I felt his stare, hated the pressure of it when I was trying to read. 

It wasn’t much later that I lifted my chin to meet his gaze again. “Stop looking at me.”

There was a chuckle, light and casual, just as he always has been. “How important is finishing that story?”

I hadn’t really known what to say to that. Of course, reading was precious to me, it always has been. Just like leaving before our parents woke, and not returning until their heads lay still in the evening was to him. The tales made up for the lack of adventure in my own life, but admitting that to my brother would make me sound like an utter loon. Emric was strong, twined with corded muscle while carrying the teeth of a cunning fox, and I was a moth, lured by an invisible flame waiting to devour me whole. 

I had known he wouldn’t understand. Even then. Even at such a young age. So, I had slowly, reluctantly tied away the scroll and sat up on the wooden floor. 

I ran my fingers through my freshly cut hair. It had gotten as long as his was, reaching down to my shoulders, but with my pestering Emric had taken a knife to it that morning. I hated it then, hated how I could make out clumps that reached down further than others in a checkered, patched mess. 

“I guess not too important,” I said.

He winked. “Good, because we’re going down to the Basin.”

“But we were just there earlier today.”

“No, not the square. We won’t be doing any boring shit like that. The outskirts.”

My eyes had widened, my mouth falling open. I closed it up again before I could catch any nats and swallow them up. I took a leveling breath, trying to hide how much that excited me. If I were going to be hanging out with my older brother on the rich side of town, I had to show him I could handle it. That I could act like one of the grown-ups.

“‘Bout time you paid up,” I said.

He huffed and kicked off the wall to walk to the door. “Well then, let’s go, rat bum.”

I paused, wringing out my hands while looking at the dirt covering my clothes. I studied his boots marked with red dust and the stains covering his lean arms. 

Emric caught the shine in my expression, reading something there, and his shoulders slumped forward. “Don’t worry about how you look. You’re just a kid, no one will care.”

He turned, threatening to leave me behind in that dark and cold house.

I followed him out the door. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, aren’t you worried?”

We started down the path leading towards the wood. The branches of the mighty oaks reached up with curled, dancing fingers at the purpling sky. We would travel through the trees, a shortcut to the further side of town. 

I’d only been through the growth in the morning with our father. We’d go during one of our hunts, early, when the wind carried ice that slashed at our noses before it had the chance to grow thick with warmth. It was when Emric refused to come along, refused to take a blade to any animal, that father had turned to me just like he had turned to Emric years prior. It was a mere few months ago that I was first pinched in his fingers, my bones being bent down to father’s will. My body being beaten in. Taught the lessons he needed seared down in my soul. 

This is how you hold a weapon. This is how you end a life. 

I’ve spilled blood for my father. Sure, it had been that of a rodent or deer, but it ran red just the same. Just the same as mine would. I have never grown numb to that feeling, the heat that builds in my chest as I watch the light die out of them. It clings to me like the vines on the trees. But despite that, despite my hate for the hunt, when I entered the shadows of the leaves then with Emric, I felt the lightness of my back without my bow. The emptiness it brought sickened me. 

I was already just like him. A beast ready for war.

“You’re not worried?” I repeated.

Emric kicked at a rock and squinted up at the sky between the branches. “Nah, I don’t give a crap what they think.”

That had surprised 10-year-old me. Still surprises me now. Though the lie showed clear on his face as he said it. There were too many instances before. Instances when his cheeks would grow red at the rejection of a maiden. He would waste minutes after her disposal, stringing curses under his breath in embarrassment. 

Emric just reacted too strongly to not care. Plain as that.

But I played along. For him, I would.  

“How do you do that?” 

He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Do what?”

“Not care. Don’t you feel their whispers on you?” I could feel them even then as we lept over a brook. The lingering words were spiderwebs, leaving twitching rashes behind in their wake.

Something in his expression had softened, his eyebrows loosening, and he blew his dark blonde hair out of his face. His shoulders slumped forward. His back looked like one of the curved trees, arched like that. 

“I’m not sure I can tell you, Ove. Everyone is different. I just kind of brush them off, let them spread rumors, or kiss my ass. Whatever pleases them. It’s not like they’ll remember what they said as long as you will.”

I grimaced and grew silent. 

Emric had always been something in between harsh and tender. It was a contrasting combination I never grew used to. There were times when he would get so angry, I wondered if he would ever be able to unclench his fists. They would rise as if he were ready to swing before he would bring them back down, shakingly, fingers still huddled together. But then there was also that softness. That understanding presence he sends out to those around him.

I remember that feeling. 

I remember sensing it then when walking in the woods that day. 

We didn’t speak for a while. He continued sucking on his wheat and I whistled, trying to copy the birds who seemed to be following us through the wood and out to the other side. 

The moon was just a sliver against the awakening stars, dim and distant, and our breath clogged the space in front of our blushing faces. 

Emric pointed out to where the lights shined in town, fires blazing from lanterns and pockets of wood. Shadows flickered up towards our place on the hill, casting dancing beasts with fangs and dull claws in the grass. We could hear the music, even way up there, we could hear the flutes and singing that rose out. I loved it. I loved that taste of peace and freedom being on the hill brought. I breathed it in and closed my eyes for a moment before turning to my brother. 

He looked over at me, winking with a smile. “It looks better from up here.”

I tilted my head in question. 

Emric shrugged. “It’s one hazy mass down there. You can’t really tell what’s what when among all the ignorant pigs.” He huffed, swatting at a fly that landed on my shoulder. “We can sit up here and watch on the way back if you’d like. I’ll buy some biscuits to bring with us.” 

I nodded, delighted at any chance to make the night last longer. I knew it would be forever before we hung out like that again. I didn’t want the event to be snuffed out. I planned to make the most of it, press Emric to his limit. I didn’t want to return to that house before our feet were sore. I wanted to stay until it was nearly impossible to keep our eyes open.

I hummed to myself. “Can we go now?”

He thrust his chin forward and began taking long strides down the hill. My short legs did their best to keep up. I tripped over rocks and loose bits of dirt, hobbling behind with one hand clutching the waist of my trousers to keep them from dropping to my ankles. He only sped up more once we got close, his hair stretching back towards me. The appearance of people clothed in long gowns seemed to excite him. Emric grabbed my fingers once we were among the buildings and I could smell the heavy scent of the rich. The city was painted in the smell of metal and roses. Pristine brick walls and potted flowers greet us, so different compared to the wooden shacks and weeds that occupied the main part of the Basin. 

I felt my heart pick up, my eyes brightening and eating up everything I could see. This piece of Calla Lilly Basin was so much more lively, so much more awake than any other place I’ve been. An older woman with her hair tied up with pearls caught my attention from her place on a bench, a leather-bound journal in her lap, and a quil in her hand. I could see myself there too, beside her or alone, with my scrolls and maps. 

It was then that I decided that one day when I’m older, when I’m clean and able to leave that house, I would go there. That was where I wanted to be. That was where I wanted to stay.

Emric broke my focus away, bringing me back to him. “There’s a couple of people I have to meet first. Are you okay with waiting here?” There was a sweat breaking out on his neck. At the time I thought it was from the heat. 

I whipped around, catching onto the glances and whispers that most likely began the moment we stepped into the town’s perimeter. I could feel them. I could feel the men muttering about my clothes, the women questioning if we even had a home. They knew we were different. Knew we didn’t belong.

I didn’t like it. My throat was growing thick and my tongue dried up with every lingering stare. 

I turned to Emric, shaking my head, frantic. 

No, I didn’t want to be alone. Not there.

He seemed to be lost for a moment, not sure what to do with me. He rubbed at his jaw, groaning before finally saying, “Fine, you can come. It’ll be quick. Not a word, yes?”

I nodded, the tightness in my chest loosening. 

Emric adjusted his grip to my wrist and led me away from the pretty people. We crossed a few streets, weaving around brightly painted stands selling things too expensive for me to even consider touching. It wasn’t far, just a minute’s walk as he pulled me down away from the music, away from the lights, and into a darkened ally. The stone-covered ground was just as cleanly kept there, despite it being separated from everything else. The space was dim and damp, but I could make out the form of two men, roughly the size of my brother, standing in the back. 

I started to wish I had stayed behind.

They were facing us, and when they saw me sliding along behind Emric, they laughed among themselves. They were dressed like us, unlike those who walked in the light just a little ways away. Their faces were clean but rough and tan from work and sun. One held a pipe to his lips, sucking greedily before reaching it out to my brother. Emric took it, puffing out smoke that curled and twisted. It smelled of the earth, not like the strong, spongey smell of father’s. 

The other boy, who I recognized to be one of our neighbors, Innis, spoke up with a raspy tone that had sent shutters to my bones. “You staying for long, Emric?”

His dark eyes flitted back and forth between my brother and me, hesitant and prodding. 

Emric took another puff, even shifted it towards me for a second before seeming to change his mind. “Nah, Ove and I are gonna have a lot of fun tonight. Thought I’d show him down the hefty side for a bit before heading back. Nothing too serious.”

I hadn’t known what that meant--where this “hefty side” was and what waited there. Innis and the other man exchanged a look, but when they faced us again, they were smiling. The pair of them reminded me of snakes. Snakes with fire scales that distracted you just before attacking. I didn’t like them. I didn’t like them at all.

Innis took the pipe away from Emric. 

He shifted on his heels, starting to turn to go down deeper into the ally. “Maybe you can put on a show for him. Teach him the works.”

Emric worked his jaw, straining his lips into a slippery smile. “There’s not really a point. Don’t think it would interest him any.”

Innis’s gaze was burning through us, cutting our skin to the veins. “Whatever you find best.” He whispered something to the quiet one before calling over his shoulder as they left, “We meet at the cliff tomorrow. Dawn. Don’t be late.”

We were abandoned then. I was confused. Confused by the conversation and why Emric had gone to meet them to begin with, but my brother seemed weak almost. His arms seemed to deflate, and he threw the wheat stalk to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot. He spat on it next. 

“What was that?” My voice was small, almost like I thought if he never heard the question, I could take it back and hide it away. No problem would arise then.

“Nothing really. Friends of mine meeting to discuss some lone jobs.”

“What type of jobs? You haven’t been helping in the fields as much.”

He shrugged, thinking to himself for a moment. “We get hired to do farm work for some ol’ bloke outside the walls.” Emric turned and ruffled my hair. “Don’t worry, Ove.”

“I wasn’t going to.” A lie, but one for the better. 

He winked before clapping his hands together. “You ready to visit one of the real archives?”

My breath hitched, already forgetting about our previous company. “Yes, please.”

Emric didn’t lead me this time. He just gestured for me to follow him out of the darkness to where the music was loud and the stares lingered. To where our night would finally begin.

He did a compelling job distracting me. It wasn’t until recently that I actually figured out what he had been up to. That I realized we hadn’t gone to the Basin for me. 

I hadn’t noticed the way Emric walked with an extra skip in his step down those stone streets, a wide grin straining his cheeks. I never questioned why, when he pointed to a shop window, enticing me with the glittering gold of a locket or the looping script of a scroll on display, he was turned away from me when I looked back at him.

It was foolish of me to be so blind. It was unlike me, unlike what I had been taught. But I was a child, I was happy to have the night away from home with my brother. I was enjoying myself with a stomach full of sweets and hidden sips of ale that left behind a lingering warmth in my toes. 

I was oblivious to the worry that kept prickling at my neck. I choose not to see his pockets. I ignored them as they grew lumpy and large, stuffed with more and more as the hours went on. I blocked out the shining flashes that would reflect from his palm as his fingers slipped fluidly from one passing person to the next. 

I had my trust in Emric. 

He’s my brother, after all.

It’s only now that I see I should have been much smarter than that. 

It was close to dawn when we finally became heavy with sleep and decided to return to the hill. I carried a burlap sack filled with a few honey scones, my mouth watering at the smell of them. Emric was acting sloppily, stumbling as we made our way towards the exit of the town. He would stop every few seconds to mutter something under his exhausted and tipsy-ridden breath, only to turn to me with a smile and begin again. It came as a surprise to me then, that I was the one leading him compared to the reverse roles that started our evening. 

The Basin had grown abandoned as morning inched towards us, the shops closing down so their keepers could steal a few hours of sleep before everything had the chance to wake again. There was no more music, just the scuffle of drunken feet and the sound of a wolf crying out in the distance. 

It felt still in that moment. Muted and dead. 

We were nearing the woods, and I licked my lips at the thought of eating one of the desserts in my hand. 

Emric was leaning slightly against me but lept forward when we came across three men just a little ways away from the forest. They were huge, bigger than anyone I had ever seen. I wondered if their heads had ever brushed up against a cloud. They kept to themselves, paying the two of us little mind as they joked dirtily about bedding women. 

Perhaps that’s what set his mind. Maybe even through all the woozy fog, Emric wanted to punish them for speaking so foully. 

But of course, one never can be sure. 

Ermic pushed forward, increasing the distance between the two of us while singing to himself, and suddenly acting even more dazed than he had been a moment before. I had paused. I just stopped and watched as he turned around slightly, and sent me a wink with a finger pressed to his lips. 

My blood ran cold. 

It seemed as though my body knew what he was going to do before my mind did, like all of his actions from before came rushing to me, making the most terrible and unfortunate sense. I had understood, realized what was going to happen just as it became too late. 

I opened my mouth, but my shout got clogged behind my teeth. 

I couldn’t stop him. 

I took a single, heavy step towards my brother. The sack slipped from my hands. The scones went rolling down the hill. 

Emric choked. He coughed as he lazily pitched himself forward and into the largest of the men. Even I, from several feet away, could see Emric’s hand sneak into the man’s pocket, pulling out a watch, the silver flashing against his chest. 

He was foolish. 

Careless.

The man could feel it too, no doubt. It would have shocked me even more if he hadn’t. Looking back now I know, Emric had been careful earlier, so careful about the stealing I never would have noticed. But even a half-dead croon would have felt him stick those long fingers into their coat then.

The laughing halted, silenced as if every single one of them knew. Their ugly faces grew cross, cheeks turning scorchingly red. 

I wondered if their skin burned to touch.

They turned to Emric.

I really thought they were going to kill him. 

My brother’s hand was still in his own pocket when the man seized him. He grabbed onto Emric’s collar and hoisted him up just to spit in his face and throw him to the rocks. 

I don’t know what gave me the strength to move my leaden feet. Perhaps it was the ancient gods or maybe it was my family’s spirit watching over us, but one thing I know for sure is that I’ve never felt such vigor since. 

Emric cried out when his head hit the ground. The sound vibrated against the quiet night.

My heart was thundering, an army of horses racing inside my ribs. 

I started running. I wasn’t far away, but I dug my heels into the earth, trying to build speed. Build power and momentum. I reached my arms out. I waited for them to connect with the man leaning over my brother, hoping the force would throw him off. I was small, but I prayed I would be enough. I could save him. 

Thick hands wrapped around my stomach. They drew me back. I was pressed into a hard chest, tied in a human cage. 

The air flew out of me with the impact. I struggled against the man. He was smaller than the one my brother stole from. If I tried, if I fought, I could take him. I was sure I could. 

I kicked my feet out. I threw my head back, tried to bite his shoulder, anything to work myself out of him. 

His skin must have been made of steel. He was metal and I was a blade of grass, being trimmed down and held tight. 

The third man joined the other by my brother. He grabbed Emric by the neck, throwing him to his feet.

Emric’s eyes were hard and cold, finally sober when they met the first. 

Still held in a vice grip, Emric struggled when the man reached into my brother’s pockets. He unturned them, spilling glittering coins and jewels out around us all. 

My face slackened. “Emric, what have you done?”

Emric wouldn’t look at me, his face downcast.

The man spat again. “Rotten filth.” His hand connected against Emrics cheek. The sound clapped like the loudest thunder. Tears caved behind my eyes. “You think you can come here and steal from these people? Go back to your hole, you swine.”

I watched limp as Emric found some small kernel of strength to bring his foot up and swing it right into the man’s groin. 

A groan echoed. 

A cough. 

“Kill him.”

The man holding Emric’s neck dropped him once again. He was upon him instantly. Blow after blow was landed into Emric’s quivering form. His face, his neck, back, anywhere the man could reach, he didn’t leave out. 

I think I was screaming. I must have been yelling, telling them to stop, calling for help. I could feel the guttural cries tearing from me, my throat growing hoarse. 

I fought against the man holding me. I shoved at him. I scratched and bit. My mind was crazed. I was having trouble breathing. Air didn’t seem to come in the more the fear built. I only got more desperate as the minutes passed and my brother grew still. 

Emric never struggled. He never fought passed that initial kick. 

He only had me to help him. To get him away from the beating. This sick beating that started all because of him. 

I wanted it to stop. Begged them to stop.

And then the rope came.

I don’t know where they got it. I sure as hell didn’t see it before. But when I saw the man walking towards my brother, wringing the flex in his hands, panic had struck through me. The man slung the rope under Emric’s neck. He wrapped it around him twice before pulling it up and out, sending my brother arching back on his stomach. Emric began choking. Gurglings swept over us. Purple started blooming in his cheeks. He wept for air. 

Adrenaline struck. It seeped into me, gave me the energy I needed. 

I wrapped my ankle around my captor’s leg. Pulled out. 

We tumbled to the ground. I tried to catch myself.

A jarring throb pierced my wrists. 

I fumbled for balance and slid onto my palms. I struggled on my knees, crawling towards the man hovering over my brother. 

I felt a hand latch onto my foot. He yanked me back and away, further from where I needed to be. Keeping me from saving my brother. 

His strength overtook my own and he slammed me down. He climbed on top of my spine. The weight on my back strained my bones, pulsing throbs echoed within me. Sweat poured out of me. He shifted so his knee was digging in between my shoulders. His hand pressed to my head. 

Somewhere in the distance, I felt my face collide with something hard. A rock. Pain sprouted, pulsing, and electrifying. I couldn’t pinpoint where the blow was landed until a feeling like the hottest fire erupted on my lips. It seared through me. Branding me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t feel anything except for the scalding ache in my face.

I gasped. 

There was a numbing pause, and then wetness coursed down my chin and neck. It flowered up my nose, into my eyes. The taste of iron invaded my senses and I cried out. Blood spilled down my throat. I coughed, spitting, and gagging, my vision blurring as more tears came. 

The man pressed my cheeks to the ground. More pain followed. It crashed into me. Dirt pushed into the cut sending raw thrums of spasms through the nerves. I thought my whole chin had to of been carved off. That it wasn’t a rock that caused this, but a dull knife that was used to peel me away. 

I dug my hands into the dirt. I felt my nails crack. 

“Stop squirming you little shit.”

I heard Emric then. He released a guttural sound. I didn’t recognize it as my brother until I heard him mutter, “Don’t.”

The man’s grip loosened slightly. I lifted my head. I vomited up stale ale and blood. It dripped down my chest. I was thankful I couldn’t smell it. 

When I finished, my eyes went searching for my brother. 

Emric must have thrown the guy off of him. The flax was gone and away from him, but the skin on his neck was peeling. Large, oozing gashes now circled there. Small streams of dark liquid ran down under his shirt. 

He’d have a scar there forever after this. A reminder just like mine. 

Emric’s bruised and swollen face was already looking at me. His whole expression shifted to something inhuman when he noticed the wound that surely shown deep along my lips. 

It was then when he finally started to rise. He fought to his feet. His legs were shaking, slipping to hold his weight. 

He spoke gently, urging them to let us go. “Please, I have to get my brother home. He’s dirty. He needs sleep. You’ve had your fun, yeah?” 

He reached a hand out, pointing a finger at me. I watched it quiver for a moment before it slid back to his hunched side. 

The two other men were laughing at him, sending playful smacks and kicks into his knees, making him stumble. 

“Stop!” I cried. 

My head was shoved again. 

“Do you want to get beaten too?” The man hissed in my ear. 

The first one who my brother had stolen from, grabbed Emric by the hair. My brother’s face pinched and he winced. His teeth clenched together. 

He leaned in close and started whispering in Emric’s ear. His lips moved fast and all was silent except for the sniffles that came from me. 

When the man pulled away, he flicked Emric’s nose and let him go. My brother dropped to the dirt, eyes growing heavy. 

The man looked down at me, still pressed in the grass, my chin starting to feel crusty. “Don’t turn out like him. You got that?”

I had a hard speaking. My lips wouldn’t move right as I seethed, “Being like you is worse. You’ll be punished for this.”

He clicked his tongue and I wanted nothing more than to rip it out. “Pathetic.” He turned his back on us, straightening his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

And with that, they were gone. The three men got up and walked away. Their laughter and talk still lingered minutes after from where I lay on my stomach. 

The sun was finally starting to show. It glared at us, blaming us for waking it. 

I looked at the forest that stood not too far away, and then over at Emric. He lay unmoving on his back, eyes closed, and breathing unsteady. 

I slowly, reluctantly got up on weak feet. All of my limbs felt like they weren’t screwed on tight enough. Except for my head, that is. A deafening headache clashed in my skull, breaking through my eyes and ears. 

I groaned, stumbling to him, only to collapse next to Emric’s form. 

Everything hurt.

Blood was everywhere. It stained our clothes, leaked into the soil. 

There was a pain in my chest. It wasn’t from the falling, or from the man’s grip around my waist,

but from doing nothing.

I did nothing. I wasn’t able to stop this, stop them from hurting him. I wasn’t capable of protecting him.

I was useless.

I could still hear his roars of pain then, can still hear them now when I dream. 

I looked down at my hands. I hated the calluses there, the false idea they sent saying I was strong. 

I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t capable of anything. Looking at my brother was proof of that, of my lack of reliance. 

I peered behind me at the leering forest. I’d have to drag us both back if he didn’t rise soon. It would take all day. 

Tears bit my lips as they came fresh and new. 

I slowly lifted my fingers to the cut I knew lied there, wincing at the stinging jab touching it brought. 

Emric moaned in his sleep, still not waking. 

Something within me snapped. 

I screamed then, really screamed as I started shoving at him. 

I pounded my fists into his stomach, crying out. 

I hated him.

I hated the situation he just caused. Hated that he had probably seen stealing as a game. That he probably wanted to play to see how much he could get away with before things went too far.

Well now, looking at the both of us, things were well past that. 

We were beaten by men the size of oceans. What would father say if he saw us now? 

I screamed again, greeting the pain that laced through my face at the sound with open arms. 

I glared down at my pants. The material suddenly felt too hot. Too big and suffocating.

I fumbled at the waist of the trousers, sliding them down, off and away. I balled them up and flung them at Emric’s unmoving form, hating that they were once his.

My breathing was ragged but my eyes were starting to droop, sleep tugging at me. 

I threw myself onto my back next to him, and I sobbed up at the brightening sky. 

I felt empty. Alone. I was hurt and broken. My body was tender. 

I wanted to go back. I wanted to go back to where I was the night before, laying down on our prickly wooden floors and reading a book while he went around the house closing all the windows. 

I wanted to change my answer. I wanted to be honest this time. 

Because finishing that scroll seemed so much more fulfilling than having a face covered in blood.