Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 6

"I thought you hated me, Calanthe," she says tiredly.

Calanthe shakes her head desperately, "That is all the past. You are my sister, my blood-relative. Nothing can drive family apart, no matter how bitter the circumstances. I still love you. Won't you say you love me?"

"What good would such words do here? You realize I'm not coming back up to join you. Cyneric said that I am no longer part of the package deal. Besides, I turned my back on you two— three, when there were that many— a week or more ago with the pegasuses. I made the decision to get caught, with the agreement that Cyneric would set me free." She glares up at him. "I didn't expect him to be quite as cold and cruel as me."

Calanthe lets out a wail, as if Briallen's words had driven a knife into her soul. I look at Briallen in total shock. Why, why would she do such a thing?

"I wanted to hurt Traugott and Kaitra more than you though," she continues stolidly. Her words never waver, never show even a thought of remorse or repentance. "Traugott, obviously, because he killed our brother, and Kaitra, because she took my place. Everyone thought I was the Daughter of Yuragwyn before she came. I am actually Yuragwynian! I actually wanted it. Then I could compete with Enion's heroism and legacy and your beauty and charm."

I am at a loss to comprehend these words, but I remember back when we did think she was our Daughter. I remember her calm excitement, her father's joy. When nothing became of the cut, she faded from Yuragwyn's view. I never expected this reaction from her. She was such a sweet, quiet girl before, and I had always wondered what brought the bitterness in her. What does one even say? We cannot reverse history, bestow on her a false title. Kaitra was meant for this from the dawn of the prophecy itself.

Cyneric claps his hands, and we all jump. "Alright, time for a walk in the garden you two! Come along."

The blindfolds come over our eyes before we can protest, and Calanthe is dragged away kicking and screaming, me following close behind in a daze.

∞Kaitra∞

I heave the pack onto my shoulders and gasp under its weight. I wish I could set it right back down, refuse to go, and shut the door in Hiltraud's expectant face. It brings back so many memories of long, hungry days and short, sleepless nights escaping from Granzians and running towards Granziar. The last thing I want to do is bear one again on another long journey.

But something in Hiltraud's eyes banishes those thoughts and calls me forward and to my duty. He expects greatness of me. And though I do not believe he is correct in thinking I can save his people, the assuredness in his manner makes me want to try, even if it is just to be able to tell them I was right all along.

He waits for me to step out over the threshold and into the open. The summer air is already oppressive, humid, and I wince at the weight of my pack, soon to stick to my shirt. Hiltraud had me wear the army uniform again and bring a sword along with my belt, bow, and quiver. I finger the dagger strap with a melancholy touch. Could I get away from him and to the woods and home? Do I even want to go back?

"All the pegasuses are deployed, so I will carry you. The time is too short for you to walk; we must make all haste."

He pretends not to notice my askew jaw and uncomprehending expression. Ride him? The thought is awkward, strange, and feels completely against the rules. The only time I remember humans riding centaurs was when Traugott brought me to Cordina, and even then I remember Traugott apologizing to Hiltraud for the act.

The thought settles in my stomach like a stone. Suddenly, more than ever, I want to escape. Memories of crippling fear and confusion haunt me again. I can't do this.

Hiltraud, unperturbed by the thoughts swirling in my head, strides over to a large crate and waits patiently. His golden tail flicks in the sunlight like ripened wheat stalks kneeling to a gust of wind. His foot stamps absentmindedly in the dirt, a twitch I've noticed so often accompanying his urgency.

It dawns upon me that he wants to leave, and, seeing as he can't lift me up on himself, it's up to me to find a way to pull myself up. I climb up on the box, embarrassed by my short stature—I can just see over Hiltraud's back—and study the situation closely. First, I try to simply set my leg over and shift, but I have nothing to pull myself with on the other side. Then, I try lying across him and squirming around to an upright position, but that too fails. The heat beats down upon me, causing my pack to slide around on my back, the bag predisposed to assist gravity rather than me in my efforts.

"Lady Kaitra," he says, somewhat tiredly. "Get off the box and go stand about twenty feet in front of me."

I obey, and stand awkwardly in front of him, shuffling my feet. I avoid making eye contact with him: has he decided to leave me? He would probably do better on his own, and then I could stay here instead of living on the trail again.

"Now, run and grab my hand tightly."

My hopes fly away with the stiff breeze, and I roll my shoulders to adjust my pack so I can move as best I can. I flail forward and grip his hand. With an unnatural strength, Hiltraud pulls me through the air and up onto his back. I land with a thud and have time to just touch his waist before he spins around and barrels down the cobblestone streets to the open gate.

We are on our way to somewhere, and I only hope I can keep from falling off.