The TwiceBorn

Let My Words Become Fire

"...love the bluest blade cuts deepest from the dark of all we own..."--Jeffrey Foucault

Still, he hesitated.  He knew what he should do but it wasn’t quite enough to divert him yet from his need to watch.  Gre slowly realized he had stumbled upon some great and terrible secret, great because no one knew about it but him and terrible for all the knowledge it held. 

He watched the slow back and forth movement of The Twiceborn’s hand as the water ribboned its way over the rocks.  Trees whispered in the hot breeze, silent spectators to what Gre slowly came to know as true.  His hand slowly loosened on the crossbow stock.

Here was love. 

And he’d always thought—believed—that the only thing the Twiceborn loved was death but he saw how very wrong he was with each stroke of her hand, and with every look the two exchanged.

No one is so strong that they aren’t determined, to some extent, by the love they experience.

Gre had never been a man of words but his mother had a fondness for them. And for love coupled with a desperate need to discover all of its hiding places.  And what all of it came down to was you were good in the eyes of the ones you loved and who loved you in return. 

Islinn touched The Twiceborn with a tenderness Behrin would have wept for.  And that was something that couldn’t be faked or forced and Gre knew he was caught in a terrible mistake he didn’t know how to get out of.  The truth of what he was watching…was almost more then he could bear.

There’s beauty in this.

That he couldn’t deny, in spite of what little he knew about it all.  At times, he’d caught a woman’s eye for a heartbeat or three and he’d always held his mother’s words close to his heart but had he understood them? No.  But he held them close nonetheless.

The Twiceborn’s laughter carried across the small expanse of water and Gre realized the girl really wasn’t much older than Islinn herself.  He watched as they lay side by side, Islinn’s head resting on The Twiceborn’s outstretched arm. 

Gre knew he could easily move back into the grass and make his way back to Aubery without being seen.  Time had become a physical thing, measured only by the sound of the water over the rocks, the wind through the trees, and the laughter of the two girls across the bank.  He simply didn’t exist in this moment.   Yet, he was loathe to withdraw himself, even though he knew he would be considered a very unwelcome intruder if discovered.

                                      *******************

Alora propped herself on one elbow and gazed down at Islinn.

“I want you to do something for me.”

Islinn didn’t open her eyes as a half smile curved her lips.

“I thought I just did.” 

Alora couldn’t help but smile.   For a fleeting second she thought about not asking…almost, but didn’t.

“No.”  Alora said softly.  ‘I want you to turn over.”

Islinn opened her eyes, the smile gone. 

“Why?” 

Alora caught the sullen, wary tone and gave the girl a reassuring smile but already knew it wasn’t going to work. 

It always has to be so difficult.

“I know you don’t trust me, “Alora stated.  She paused, not wanting to ruin what they had both shared.