Leander and Melindre
Leander walked alongside the Oracle as they approached the group hiding in the trees. His hands fell at his side, caked in blood from the archers with bruised and cracked knuckles from his assault on the one who tried to choke the life from Melindre. There was blood splatter in his hair and on his face, and even though he tried to wipe it away, it only smeared across his cheek and forehead. His lip was split open but the bleeding had stopped and all the remained was flesh beginning to scab over.
Hatching… Green eyes flinched at the word and Leander barely reacted when Melindre latched onto him for support. His gaze remained fixed on the small group of riders with their damned eggs and their damned destiny. Bloodied hands clenched into tight fists as he watched his purpose in life vanish as easy as the breeze swept through the small clearing.
...naming them..?
Leander stepped back despite the Oracle clinging to him just a bit harder. He pulled his arm from her with a slow motion and refusing to look at her, or the riders and their dragons, turned his back on the group and quietly walked into the cover of trees. His feet carried him through the brush until he could no longer will them to move. He collapsed against a tree, his forearm holding him upright against it and his forehead pressed into the crook of his arm. The sound of the others was distant behind him… it was safe. Leander's eyes burned and welled with tears, only a few managing to roll down his cheek. "Father… how… how did this happen?"
Her steps were slow… Not for her injuries, nor blindness, but a courtesy. After he'd left her side, Melindre waited. Eventually, Tiriok made his way over, offering to heal her injuries and Melindre acquiesced, grateful to the Artisan for his skills. When he had finished and only when the others had settled and she found herself standing alone did Melindre take off after the warrior. Tracking while blind was a funny sort of puzzle - relying greatly on intuition and sound, rather than sight, on instinct over effect. He wasn't a small man, and there was no sense of stealth to his exit. Branches were trampled, twigs snapped along the way… In turmoil, he would favor slopes down, rather than hills upward, and the depth of his footfalls left a series of grooves she could feel through her boots.
Should all of these skills have failed her, however, the sound of his voice, pleading and broken could not be missed among the forest's natural melody. Pressing down into the forest terrain, making her own steps heard before she made her approach, she came up behind the man, pausing when she was a little ways away.
"...Leander. May I ask you something?"
Leander forced what little tears he had to stop at the sound of the Oracle approaching, silly because she was blind, but he thought it necessary anyway. His head rolled in his arm to present the side of his face to her, though it was covered by dirtied blonde hair caked with sweat and blood.
"What do you want Melindre…" he was irritated, obvious by the tone in his voice. All he wanted was to be alone but there she was, the Oracle, the one who denied him his destiny… arriving to lick his wounds like he was someone she had to save.
"Why do you care so much what your father thinks of you?" Moving to lean against a tree, Melindre's eyes shifted skyward, pinpricks of light glancing through the canopy, illuminating what little vision she had with a welcome radiance.
Leander's arm on the tree retreated and the side of a clenched fist came crashing into it with a startling thud. He shot a glare at the Oracle and although she couldn't see the anger in his eyes, it was likely she could feel it.
"And what does it matter,
Oracle? Gifted with the sight of vision but can't see a goddamned thing…" He wasn't yelling but he had raised his voice. "All you do is talk in circles, alluding to know anything about me… but it's obvious that you don't. Not with a stupid question like that…." The anger in his voice gave way to pain and a deep sadness. "...you don't know what it's like… to be standing right in front of someone but to never be seen… no matter what you do.."
Leander pressed his back against the tree, his eyes fixed on his boots sinking into the grassy blanket of the woods.
"Circles…" Frowning softly, Melindre gave a nod, "Very well. You want it plain? Most don't… so I offer them a sense of mystery, because the truth is, no one wants to hear what's
real, Leander. Your father is a monster. He cares for nothing and no one but himself, and he's made it very clear that you are worthless to him. In ways you do not even know… in ways you could not begin to understand. My
visions are not gifts. They are a torment… that I endure because if I can be of use then that is better than the alternative, but the things that I see cannot be unseen. And I know
exactly what it's like not to be seen, believe me. The others? What do they call me? The Oracle. That's all I am, Leander. A
thing. A tool. To Verlendia, to these people, to everyone. The difference is I do not strive to seek their favor, because if they cannot see what I am worth then that is at their own cost." Taking a step forward, she shook her head, "So I will ask again… Why do you care what he thinks of you?"
"A torment? Like it is a torment for me to wake up every day… a shadow of
his dreams and virtues…" His green eyes lifted from his boots to Melindre and he stepped toward her to meet her. "I'm like you, Melindre. A tool, but not to Verlendia, to my father.
The monster. This is my life. And my purpose. I know nothing else. I was raised for no other reason. A Kilnwood… we are meant for something. I learned that from him… but now. Now I am nothing." He paused, his lip quivering at the thought. "...not even a Kilnwood.."
"The thing is… you see that as a problem. But why can't it be an opportunity? Leander… Twice now, you have saved my life. Not because you are what your father expected you to be, but because you have followed the path you were meant to follow. And maybe he won't see worth in that, but I do. How could I not? That man today…" Pausing, Melindre reached her fingers up to touch the delicate bruises along her neck, "He would have killed me, and you stopped him. You didn't have to, but you did. And in the square… whatever your reasoning was, you came to my aid. And maybe that means you've disappointed your father, or maybe it means that you are not as ingrained to his will as you think. All you need to do to be free of his shadow… is step into the light."
Leander reached out and grabbed Melindre's arm between her elbow and shoulder. His fingers dug into the robe that blanketed her flesh as he looked down at her with anguish in his eyes. "I don't know how to do that, Melindre!"
"As young as I can remember…" he let go of her arm but didn't back away. "...this has been my life.. and who I am… it's not so easy to erase and forget and change.. the light just seems so far away.."
"Only because you can't see beyond what he's told you you are…" As his hand pulled away, she reached out with surprising deftness to catch it, "But where I lack vision in the ways that most see, I see what others cannot. You are… an impossibly stubborn, often ruthless and certainly irritating man at times… but there is a goodness in you that even he cannot stamp out. It is not a
weakness, Leander… It is your greatest strength. And it is why he will never measure up. Which is why he hates you. Because you remind him of what he will never be. Your father is a wasted opportunity… and a coward. And you are so much more than that."
His eyes darted to Melindre's hand around his and as she spoke, they found their way back to her. He didn't understand the Oracle and why she insisted on being so nice to him. Her belief in him… it was hard to swallow. It was so foreign and strange. It didn't make sense. Leander ripped his hand from hers and stared at her with harsh eyes. "You're wrong… Melindre.. I saved you because I swore an oath to protect you. Don't mistake it for kindness."
He stepped back from her, looking over her shoulder in the direction of where the other riders were lost in the happiness and excitement that was watching their
precious dragons hatch. It was a pathetic bunch… children, a blind woman, and savages from a different land. "I am what I am…" His eyes landed back on the Oracle with defeat in his voice. He sighed, and walked toward the clearing, his shoulder knocking against hers as he stepped past. "You should stop trying to save me… it is just wasted effort."
"Leander, stop." Without turning, Melindre sighed deeply, her fingers curling around the glove of her left hand. Pulling it free, she extended a small, pale hand outward, expectantly, "There's something you need to see… about the man to whom you are so desperate to prove yourself. Something I should have shown you before…"
"What do you mean.." He asked, turning three quarters to face her and staring at her open hand, confused.
Fingers splayed, she continued to hold her hand out, "Take it. Please."
Leander sighed heavily, and turned to leave again. "I'm not interested in your parlour tricks, Melindre... "
"You have a brother, Leander. N-not the elder two. A twin." Breathing in, her hand remained hovering, waiting, "Please?"
His feet stopped dead in their tracks and for a long moment he just stood completely still, his back to the Oracle. The silence was so deafening that it was almost if Leander's heart beating in his chest could be heard amongst the trees. "What… did you say?" he asked, turning to face Melindre and stepping toward her. "I have… a twin?" His voice told her that he was skeptical and yet, he stood before her.
His eyes peeled themselves from the Oracle's face and looked down at her snow white hand held out for him to take. "And you want me to believe that if I take your hand that I'll see every----" and as his warm hand met hers, his voice was robbed of the will to speak and his eyes widened in shock.
For a moment, the world seemed to spin in place, revolving faster and faster until color and light were a blur around them. When the sensation threatened to become too much, all at once, the revolutions ceased and where once were trees, solid and strong, needles brushing needles in the cool mountain breeze, there was a room - a small, sparse room in a dark cottage. A fire crackled in the corner, and a bed lay in violent turmoil, woolen blankets bloodsoaked and trashed about, the strong coppery scent astringent enough to claw at the back of the throat. Three figures stood by the door to the chamber, well dressed, but for cloaks that seemed to have been borrowed. At their center, another figure all too familiar to Leander - though perhaps a bit younger than he would remember his father.
Before Andross Kilnwood was a young woman on her knees, her clothing in the same state of distress as the blankets on the bed, her skin waxy and pale. Rivulets of red hair hung at her shoulders and tears streamed down her sallow cheeks as her shoulders shook with silent sobs.
"You thought you could hide it? That you could send it away and you would save it? That
creature will not survive… no matter what foolish endeavors you've taken to spare its miserable life. And you…" Leaning forward, Andross's gloved hands curled into the red hair, yanking her head back, "You'll be dead soon, you stupid bitch. I knew it was a mistake, letting you carry them… letting you live. I should have killed the lot of you the moment I found out. But that is a mistake I will soon rectify, mark my words!"
Turning to the men at his sides, Andross's brow rose and he gestured to two of them, "What are you idiots still doing here? The midwife can't have gotten far. Fan out and find her. I want that cursed
thing at the bottom of a river before sunup!" Pulling a blade free from his side, his darkened gaze shifted back to the woman.
"It doesn't matter if you kill me. You won't find them. You've failed… and I can die happily, knowing as much." Her eyes looked up, and where there was fear, there was also a note of defiance.
Bending low, Andross reached out, his fingers curling around her slender neck, "I
will find that monstrosity, and I will end him. And he will burn beside you for eternity…" There was a gasp, a strangled cry, and the woman fell to the floor of the cottage as the blade was pried from her chest.
Another cry resonated suddenly, louder and sharper and looking up, Andross's gaze drifted to the cradle in the corner of the room. Slow steps carried him to its side and peering into it, he glared down at the infant, bundled within.
"What are your orders, sire?" Another man appeared in the doorway, looking to Andross expectantly, "For the other one?"
Wiping his blade on his cloak, Andross sighed, "Kill it. I've no use for--" But he paused, and looking into the cradle again, he studied the infant for a moment, "...No. On second thought… Leave it. Come back in the morning. If it survives the night, bring it to my estate. Otherwise, well… You know that to do." Swinging around, stepping over the body of the woman, Andross brushed past his guard and left through the cottage door, "Either way… when you've finished, burn the cottage to the ground. No one can know…"
With that same disturbing revolution, the scene dissolved, and once more there was the forest, the trees and the cool breeze…
Leander's hand tightened around Melindre's, trembling slightly as his fingers squeezed into her skin. His eyes were locked on their hands, shaky and unsure of what he just saw. He was afraid to look up at Melindre for she would see the terror behind his eyes. The colour in his face had drained away and all that was left was a lifeless man standing in front of her. Scared. And more alone than he had ever felt before. His mouth opened to say something, but there were no words…
He had a brother, a twin brother. But the woman in the cottage… she carried
them. The realization stabbed him like a thousand daggers. Leander's knees buckled and they hit the cold forest floor with a thump. His hand remained tightly clasped around Melindre's but he no longer stared at their hands. Green eyes found the scattered leaves beneath him and his mouth hung in shock, bottom lip quivering. The woman he had been calling mother for twenty five years was not his mother… He wasn't a Kilnwood. He was a bastard. A bastard that was supposed to be killed like his twin brother. And like his mother. He was unwanted.
Leander was blank, all but for tears that now freely flowed from his eyes. His hand continued to tighten around the Oracle's and his other just twitched at his side. But he made no sound and his body didn't dare move. He just knelt there, at Melindre's waist, as nothing but a shattered shell of a man.
Her free hand raised, slowly, and hovered for a moment, over Leander's crown, her own cheeks damp for the tears she could not contain. She had seen it all before… when Orestra had seen to bestow upon her the vision, but seeing it now… experiencing it through his eyes… Gently, she let her hand fall, brushing back his hair.
Easing down, she knelt in front of him, her eyes unmoving from his face, even as he avoided her gaze, "Forgive me. I… I never wanted you to see that.
I never wanted to see it. When you came to me in the square… when I recognized you… There was a part of me that wanted to tell you then, but… but I did not think you would believe me. I… I am so sorry, Leander."
"....then why did you show me.." his voice came weakly but he continued to refuse to look at her. The tears that had rolled down his cheeks had stopped but his blank, colourless expression still remained.
"Because as hard as it is… and as much as… as much as I had hoped to spare you… It isn't fair that you should go your life believing the lie…" Her hand shifting from his head, she reached out and gingerly lifted his chin to meet his eyes, "You owe that man
nothing. The reason you are alive is because you were strong enough to survive… And you had a mother who loved you enough to die for you. You deserve to know that."
Leander recoiled at her hand on his chin, scared of what else her touch would reveal. His hand let go of hers and he just stared at her, shock slowly giving way to quiet suffering. "What lie… Melindre.. you act like I didn't… like I didn't know
that man doesn't want me… and never has…"
His eyes fell from hers, looking down at his blood stained opened palms in his lap. He wasn't who he thought he was. All of the pain of his childhood was for nothing. He was alone then, only a small boy in the shadow of his
family... but now that family wasn't even real. And he was truly alone, only a small boy without anyone who cared for him. It all made sense, why his brothers hated him, why his mother refused to look at him, and why his father…. used him. He wasn't their blood, there was no reason to love him.
"...I should've just died in that damned cottage.."
"Don't you dare." Unseeing eyes bored into him, as Melindre shook her head fiercely, "Don't you
ever say that. What lie, Leander? The lie that you are beholden to him! That you have anything to prove to him. That he
deserves any part of you. You've tried your whole life to please him… Let him go. Let him
go."
She was asking him to let go of everything he had ever known. But everything he had ever known… wasn't real. Just who was he, if not Leander Kilnwood? The life he had before was not a life he could ever return to. He could never return to Atheno. He could never return home. He was a bastard, living proof that the noble Andross Kilwnood spat in the eyes of Orestra and had a child out of wedlock and an affair with a
common woman. If that man ever found that he knew, Andross would have him killed. Melindre's vision had destroyed all that he was in a matter of seconds and now he sat in the wood with her, unknowing of what to do next.
"You should go back." His eyes found hers and his voice came stronger than before. "The others will be wondering where you are."
"Let them wonder." Melindre answered without hesitation, "I'm not leaving you."
"Go, Melindre!" Leander was quick to respond. "You've done enough here."
"I am
not going anywhere." Pulling her glove back onto her hand, she stared, almost defiantly, "Hate me if you need to… I understand. But I am not leaving you alone."
"... why are you so annoying." Leander mumbled under his breath as he glared at her. He just wanted to be alone but she refused to leave him be. Did she find enjoyment in watching him hurt? He scoffed, looked away from her and relaxed into the heels of his feet.
Sinking back as well, Melindre's fingers curled around the amulet of Orestra, and a soft sigh escaped, "...Because…" She answered, but it was barely a whisper, "Because no one should be alone."
His eyes looked back at her but he didn't speak. He just watched her. He watched how her clouded eyes sat on his and how her small hands clung to the faith she believed in so fiercely. He watched as her lips whispered whatever ridiculous thing she said and how her hair blew in the breeze that passed through them. She was like him - nothing more than a tool that no one
truly wanted. The Oracle. Melindre. But he was not like her… she was stronger. And kinder. And had found her way. Her
path. But he was lost and whatever strength she saw in him, he couldn't find it.
All I need to be free is to step into the light.. His head fell back and he stared up at the speckled light filtering through the canopy of trees.
...but the light is in pieces.
Collaboration with @Elle Joyner