The Sinless Child

Chapter 3

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"When we wish for naught, just all stay gay..."

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I had never realized how cold the snow could be. My breath fogged in front of my face and I shivered violently. It was not just from the cold, however. I turn my head to look behind me, pleading to be allowed to return. My brother stood stoically, arms crossed, his expressionless face fixed on me. His tail flicked from side to side, sweeping the snow to form a patch of bare grass behind him. The moonlight washed over his face, glinting off the dark tips of his horns and causing his eyes to flash dangerously. My sense of hopelessness and dread grew the longer I looked at him. I now understood how the animals he hunted felt. How can you have hope for yourself when faced with such an imposing predator?

"Go on," my brother growled, slowly uncrossing his arms, and letting one hand reach to his belt.

The handle of his scythe had an icy glaze over it. It did not bother my brother as he calmly wrapped his fingers around it. The wind grew stronger, brushing his long hair forward to lightly curtain the threat his eyes held.

"P- Please... brother..."

I reached out a hand, my small fingers stretching out to try and implore him, to let me stay. It was not enough. His stoic expression did not change. His eyes showed no more remorse than it had in the room with the elders...

"Leave him deep in the woods. Let it seem like he lost his way in the dark and simply starved to death," my brother had told the elders.
"Why do we not just execute him in the woods?" Hormos had asked.
"If any of our hunters found the body, it would be better for them to see one that died from hunger or animals than from a stab wound," my brother explained. "Fewer explanations are needed and panic is avoided."

Despite his words, I realized that he was ready to kill me if I did not walk into the dark shadows. I turned back to face away from him, scanning the trees in front of me, trying to see if I could spot any sign of life but the forest was far too thick. My hands clutch the small leather bag, that had been over my head, tighter to my chest. They had made sure that I would not know how to return to the village. They had tolerated my existence out of respect for my family but the second they learnt my family held no respect for me, they had thrown me out with malice and enthusiasm. Superstition made the elders vicious and cruel. I understood their prejudices. I could even understand my father's prejudice. His ambitions would face no hurdles. My brother, on the other hand... He did not have any reason to be superstitious. Every time he suggested some way to develop the village, it would break tradition. It would have progressed the village, but the elders rarely took his suggestions due to their old-fashioned ways. I did not understand why he remained convinced that prophecies were true, though.

"Why?" I ask, my quiet voice cutting through the still air.

I hear my brother's tail stop swishing against the ground. 

"Why what?" he asked, his tone uninterested.
"Why do you hate me?"

A sudden bark of laughter caused me to jump and whip my head around, to stare at my brother who had thrown his head back and started laughing maniacally at the moon.

"Why, you ask?" He says finally, his humourless smile turning to me. "You spent so long with grandfather, and he never once told you."

The strain of jealousy crept into my brother's voice, and he began to take slow steps towards me. His smile fell and his expression turned into one of suppressed anger.

"Our village has the blood of kings," my brother says quietly. "We were born to rule. Our species had an empire that spanned across the world. We were meant to have everything."