The TwiceBorn

What's Written Here...

 "There is a thin line of me,wavering and not strong,that wants to learn the language of beasts and water and night..."--Winterson 

Gre tossed the crossbow down with disgust.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at Islinn so he concentrated on Aubery who’d done a spectacular flip backwards and now lay spread-eaged on the other side of The Twiceborn. Gre wanted to think it was the force of the bolt that had driven the boy off his feet but the reality of it was Aubery had probably overbalanced with that giant sword and the bolt had simply helped him on his way.

Gre could hear the creaking of his knees as he made his way across the wet grass.

“No wonder I drink so much,” He thought glumly.  He stepped over the body of The Twiceborn and gazed down, bemused, at Aubery who lay with his eyes closed and his teeth clenched tight.  Air whistled between his drawn back lips as he made a show of struggling to breathe.

A patch of red stained the coarse material that covered his left shoulder and Gre silently cursed.  If he had to miss, he could have at least buried the bolt in his shoulder but no.  He’d only clipped him.  Unfortunately.

“Is he dead?” 

Islinn’s flat tone couldn’t quite hide the eagerness in her voice.

Gre cautiously nudged Aubery with his foot.

“No,” He sighed.  “Only winged him.”

At the touch of Gre’s boot, Aubery sat up and let out a gargling wail. Gre jumped at the unexpected sound, and quickly backed up as Aubery scrabbled to his feet, fell, got back up, then went down again.  Back on his hands and knees, he suddenly spun like a cornered mongrel and his eyes bulged as he took in The Twiceborn’s still form.

“I thought she…that maybe she was only wounded…” He blurted.  His eyes raced over the still form in the mud. 

“I thought…she was trying to trick me…Making me think…”

He stopped and slowly got to his feet.  Nothing but a sweaty, scared boy. Gre’s eyes swept over the mud caked on Aubery’s face and hair.  And everywhere in between.

A sweaty scared boy covered in mud with a massive sword an armored Knight would have trouble lifting had just slain The Twiceborn. 

A deep and sorrowful fascination stole over Gre and he knew no matter how much he drank in the future, he would never be able to figure out how it had come about.

“What the fuck,Gray??  You tried to put a bolt in me??”

Aubery’s whine of anger and despair was familiar territory to Gre. 

“Yeah,Aubery I did.”  He replied.  “I know exactly what you were thinking and I’m telling you right now, it’s not going to happen.”

Aubery started to fidget about as Gre’s words sank in.

“You don’t tell me what to do, Gray, you got that? You don’t…”

Aubery’s words ended in a strangled squawk as Islinn tackled him.  The weight of her slammed him down on his back in the mud and Gre caught the stunned surprise in the boy’s murky eyes just before Islinn sat up on top of him and clipped him with her fist across his jaw.

Gre exploded with laughter.  True, the laughter was colored with a spot of lunacy, Gre could hear it as he leaned over and put his hands on his knees.  And it all actually wasn’t funny.  No, it was heart-breaking in its own way for each of them but one thing Gre knew for certain was you simply took the laughs where ever you could find them.