As A Stranger Or A Friend?: The Swallow And The Drowned Sailor

Axtapor - 13 Evening Star, 1245 A.D.

"Where did ye get that?"

She looked up from her book at me. "Pardon?"

"Yer scar."

"Oh, it's rather embarrassing, actually..." She admitted softly, "My younger brother and I were spying on my older sister while she was out with a boy. The two had been friends since childhood, but it was their first outing with courtship in mind. He was her age but also friendly with us, so my brother and I didn't quite understand why we were not allowed to join them." She flashed me a small smile, "Anyhow, I lost my footing while tailing them, fell down some stairs, and split my lip open. She cursed me for weeks after that for ruining the day since he insisted they go home to look after me." She declared with a nostalgic laugh.

I laughed with her.

It seemed I was not the only one with a mischievous streak as a child.

"It happened in those months after being chosen by the Third Prince, so my mother was rather upset when it scarred. Not because she considered it a flaw but because she was terrified of what the Third Prince might do to me when he saw it..." She said more soberly now, "But I have always treasured it."

"Why?" I asked with a small frown.

"Because it is the only keepsake I have of my family. I was not allowed to take anything with me when I departed, you see. I-I wouldn't trade it for the world..." She said, looking down at her book again, but she and I both knew she wasn't reading.

"I be sorry for askin' 'bout it." I said quietly.

"Don't be."

I nodded. "Ye should rest. Be a ways walk to the harbor."

She closed her book gently and got on her feet. "Good morning, Axtapor."

"Aye, good morn'." I said as she retreated into the tent to sleep.

***

"There ye be..."

How fitting that a dream of her should be the first I had in months. Perhaps the moment between us ended somberly back then, but hearing her laugh and seeing her smile, it was like finally gathering wind in the sails of a ship ill caught in doldrums. This, like all of the dreams we shared, felt so real because...well, because they were. They were all things she or I had experienced or desired. The realization was a bittersweet comfort.

"Who did you find?" My uncle asked.

Who did I find? I'd been pining after her so desperately without even knowing who or what she was to me. His question and the memory of her cruel words further overshadowed my momentary happiness at seeing her again. 'I could never love someone like you.' What a disgusting and vile thing to say. And she kissed me! She held me! She— She told me I was not blighted! And now, I knew she trusted me completely, so what did that make her?! Everything? Nothing? Perhaps just a person.

"Someone who be...she..."

"She?"

"Aye, she."

"What clan is she from?"

"Clan?" I asked, looking at him in the darkness with a frown.

"Yes." He replied impatiently, "You won't have time for your antics with a wife and children to look after."

"Marryin' was no part of the 'rrangement." I growled at him.

"You still don't understand what this is, do you, you moron? Let me put it plainly; your father has lost all control of you and, with what little wisdom he has left, made you my ward with the task of correcting his mistake by any means necessary. Now that we have resolved your night terrors, you are suitable enough to begin making other repairs, starting with those garish markings you've covered yourself in. And when you have reached a state I am satisfied with, you will marry, and you will have children. Those children will be placed under the careful instruction of my brother, Lord Marax, as you certainly cannot be entrusted to guide something as precious as sons properly. And while they grow to surpass their poor excuse of a father, you can busy yourself with practicing your raping upon your slaves and your wife within the walls of this castle, and you will be satisfied. Am I clear?" He spat through his teeth at me.

I reached for my dagger and cried out seconds later, feeling the rune in my mouth begin to sear painfully.

"If you raise a hand to me, I will see to it that you have no hands left to raise." He threatened, "I have tried to be reasonable with you, Axtapor, but you don't seem to appreciate that, so you will marry whatever cow I put in front of you and do as I say because you belong to me now. You are my property."

With that, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. I nursed my bleeding mouth with a kerchief and felt angry tears sting my eyes. To be made a ward was the equivalent of being disowned, to be made a bastard, to be abandoned...

I never hated my father. He wasn't particularly kind or patient, but I had fond memories of him taking my brothers and me out hunting with him. It was, of course, what any father should do with his sons to properly prepare them for their ikismal, but even after that came to pass, he would often ask me, and only me, to join him on hunts. He even forwent hunting trips with the clan in favor of ones with me. Sometimes we would disappear for weeks at a time, and when we returned, he would have the heads of my kills stuffed and mounted in the dining hall. All of those proud looks and boastful words of my skill...did they mean nothing? They must not and, for the first time, I wondered if he, like Mariel, could never be capable of loving someone like me.