Rise and Fall [[BEING MOVED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT]]

Capter Seven

Seven

                    We sit cross-legged on our beds. I face him. He faces me. We share this room, and somehow, I'm glad. After that first morning, I didn't know how I would be able to look at him. At the bruises that match my fingers. Now, I have to. It's a reminder, but it makes coexisting less awkward. In this room, we have to coexist. I can't ignore him out of embarrassment. Needless to say, I can't be me.

                    "I hate them," Tallan says. He does all the talking. It's our unspoken agreement, and he seems to respect my silence. "As far as I'm concerned, I am not his son, and I am not his brother. As far as I'm concerned, they're dead to me."

                    "Why do you hate them so much?" I ask. I break my silence sometimes.

                    "Because of what they've done, and what they are. They're power-hungry murderers that will stop at nothing to rule. To be truly superior." Tallan shakes his head in disgust. There's a lot of disgust in him. And anger. And hate. Sadness too. We're not so different, he and I.

                    "I ran away when they ransacked the Fall Quadrant," he continues. Nodding to me.

                    I swallow hard. Sure that he can see the flames rising up from the depths of my memory. "My mother helped me go. She hates them too, but it's more of a fear-driven hate. She was too scared to come with me. Nothing I said would change her mind." He shakes his head. "I don't know what happened to her. She could be completely fine and I'm worried for nothing; or she could have been punished if my father-" he spits the word, "-found out she helped me." His eyes plead with the scene he holds in his mind's eye. I shift. Uncomfortable watching him suffer. He shakes his head. Composing his face. Drawing a  shaky breath, he continues.

                    "I knew they were twisted. Gavyn would burn model villages with my father for fun. When I was very young, I had these little wax figures that I'd made from candles that had long since burned down." He smiles. "I was proud of those little people. I took them nearly everywhere." His face darkens suddenly, and the sparkle in his eyes dulls. "I came in on them burning them. I was six at the time, and Gavyn was ten, and I walked into my father's office to ask him if he'd seen my figures, and there they were, melting on the desk." He shakes his head.

                    "You should have seen their faces. They didn't even notice I was there. They were completely enraptured by the destruction they'd created. I couldn't take it. I got away from there as fast as I could, and cried my freaking eyes out when I told my mother what happened. It wasn't even the fact that they were burning my things. It was the look on their faces that haunted me." He shivers.

                    "Still does."

                    He pauses for a moment, and his jaw sets. He nods to something unseen, and says, "They're the reason I joined the Winter resistance. I'd heard of it through one of the Base Superiors of my Quadrant-" I cock an eyebrow, and he nods. "Dylon Eisling has been undermining Summer's rebellious -and bloodthirsty- advances for years. Ever since he ascended to the position." My eyes widen, and Tallan smiles. "We're not all monsters."

                    No. They're not. But I can still see their faces. The faces of Summer.

                    Flickering in the fire-light. Smiling while we burn.

                    Tallan stops talking. He looks at me strangely.

                    "What?" I say.