Equilibrium

Two Storms Meet

Renn, 1167

Whispers float between my ears, disappointed,

"Coward," a sly voice uttered, smooth as honey but slick as poison.

Evil chuckles, wry and humorless, echoed about.

"What did she think would happen?" said a deep voice, strong and authoritative. "That she could triumph over the King?"

I saw Larke, shackled, dejected, stolen.

The scene changed, and suddenly I saw my father, drowning in an impossibly ever-expanding lake, his eyes staring up at me, accepting. He didn't struggle, didn't even try to claw towards the surface. Instead he sank, deeper and deeper into the depths, his limbs still, even those his eyes stared unblinkingly at the sky.

I stood at the bank, alone, frozen, immobile, burning to run but unable to.

Then I was the one drowning, the sky far above me, and the bottom of the lake far below. I clawed and clawed, but my limbs were slow to respond, as if treading molasses instead of water. I opened my mouth to scream, but the thick water filled my throat, choking me. Still, I sank, and above me through the light I saw Larke's face looking down on me, blurred through the water.

"You don't have the strength," she said, disdain dripping from every syllable. "I always had to do everything for you."

I ached to scream at her, to tell her I was sorry, to give her my rebuttal. But I couldn't; I opened my mouth, but my throat was stifled, my lungs incapable of expanding. Her face twisted and briefly turned into the princess's calculating leer, the very expression she wore when she'd followed Larke into the disaster of her escape.

It disappeared as if it were smoke, up in wafts and plumes of fog disappearing into the sky. I was drowning again, the surface taunting me with the sun still visible through the clear water when I was about to hit the muddy bottom.

I awoke with a gasp and a cold sweat.

I sat up abruptly, breathing heavily, and wiped my brow with a shaky hand. Those moments had been plaguing me in my thoughts every single day and every single night. I had watched them take my sister away, and I hadn't done a single thing to stop them. I had followed them, when they chased her, hoping against hope that she would have been able to escape.

But she wasn't so lucky, and therefore, neither was I. I watched from afar as they apprehended her, saw the Princess offer her hand with a threat, heard her vow that we would not starve. My father's words had echoed in my ears, 'there is no bravery without fear', but I still couldn't bring myself to interfere. Rather than say goodbye, I had left to go find him. Maybe he would be able to help, to speak reason to the King, convince him that she was needed at home, with us.

I knew now that was a child's hope, and I didn't feel like a child anymore. I was an abandoned puppy, left behind with no one to feed it. But the princess had promised Larke that she would make sure her kinsmen wouldn't go hungry.

I scoffed; that had apparently been an empty offer. It'd been almost a week since then, and once the King had left, the royal presence had lifted. Not a single grain had been sent my way, not a single coin. My father, whom I had assumed had stayed home while Larke and I had ventured out to the Choosing, was still nowhere to be found. I had searched for him right after Larke had been stolen from us, fruitlessly.

I lay on the floor of our cottage, waiting, for the fifth day in a row for my father to show up, dozing off every now and then. I couldn't sleep normally, for whatever reason, so I had taken to napping when I could. The day was warm, but I couldn't feel the rays that fell upon my face. They did, however, disturb my fitful slumber. I had been hiding here, in our small cottage, waiting for him. When would father return? I knew he was sad, but didn't he know that I was still here? We've both lost. But I still needed him.