One in the Same

Chapter Two

   Ailill sighed as he looked out across the field. He hadn't slept as much as he would have liked the night prior. The world seemed heavy on his mind...as Clodagh would say. And these days no truer words had ever been spoken. He watched as the young ones played near the edge of the walls. Looking for a sign of flaming red hair that he knew he would not see. He sighed heavily again and dropped his head.
   Soft hands ran themselves up to his chest. The skin over them seemed stretched too tight over the bones. The nails looked like they were made from polished glass. "What troubles you?" The woman asked, her voice a little less musical than it once was.
   Ailill smiled almost sadly and turned to look into Clodagh's eyes. Those eyes held more life than a living maid once. But the troubles of bringing their child into the world left its mark. Those eyes never shined as bright as they once had anymore. Now they were glazed in away. But still warm. Still bright in a dull way. And still sunken in. Her cheekbones protruded more than ever as well. And her skin had never returned to that glowing porcelain but remained the shallow alabaster of a sickening vampire that hadn't fed in years. Though he knew, Clodagh was feeding every day.
   He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek. As normal, she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. A soft smile playing at her light pink lips. Even they had changed.
   "Too much to trouble you with, mo bhanrion," he replied softly.
   Clodagh chuckled, a dry scratching in the back of her throat. "Trouble me? You've troubled me since we were children playing in an abhainn." She chuckled again and looked up at him and smiled. "You want to know where she is."
   The sigh that escaped his lips was one of relief. "So you've seen her this morning?"
   "What mother doesn't see her child? We broke our fast together. She grows more like you each day," Clodagh went up and gently kissed her husband before turning and walking across the chamber to the hearth.
   Ailill snorted, "grows more like me. How have you come to that decision?"
   Clodagh turned her eyes on him. "Have you seen the way she wields those...things?" Clodagh turned away. "She should be with me and the others learning the ways of the court. Not aiming at straw." She rolled her eyes and poked at the fire.
   The king snorted. "If I remember correctly, you too were off chasing shadows and pretend evils right along with the rest of us instead of learning the ways of the court." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall watching his wife.
   She pulled the poker back from the burning logs and studied it for a moment. "Aye. So I did. But I learned my place." She smiled almost sadly and sat the poker down.
   "Aye, as she will as well. So. Where is our cat beag?"
   "Chasing mice," Clodagh replied looking back at her husband.

   Cat took a slow, deep inhale of air, filling her nonworking lungs. She looked down at her slippered feet then back down the shaft of the air.
   "Concentrate," her teacher said. "Your stance is fine. What must you focus on now?"
   "The target," the child replied. Her emerald eyes seemed to glow with anticipation.
   "Good, and what is your target?"
   "Only kill if they intend to kill you." She answered.
   "Now, is your target going to kill you, cat beag?"
   "Nil," she answered slowly blinking. Strands of flame seemed to dance in her eyes. Loose strands of her hair that decided they no longer wanted to be in their braid with the rest of her unruly auburn locks.
   "How do you know?" The teacher asked.
   Without hesitation, the girl loosed the arrow. The fletch brushing her cheek in almost a lover-like manner. The yard was so silent, she was able to hear the arrow leave the bow, the whistle as it flew through the air. The sound of breaking straw giving way to its entry. The sound of the men cheering around her. But instead, she heard the sound of the arrow clinking to the paved yard floor beneath her, more than five feet from her target. The men instead were laughing gently, not cheering. She lowered her bow and frowned before turning back to her teacher, who was also chuckling. "Och, lass. You'll get it." He said warmly.
   "I want to get it now," she said huffing and crossing her arms.
   "Aye, lass. I know you do." He said walking up and laying his hand gently on her shoulder. "But a wee lass like you yet, cat beag. Yer athair didn't defeat the realms in his fifth-year o'life.
   The child huffed again. "But I'm not my athair."
   "Aye," he replied looking at her in wonder. Where was she going with this?
   "And I'm not my Mathair." She said seeming to shrink into herself.
   "Aye," the teacher said scratching his whiskered chin.
   "I am both," the child said, fixing him with her cold emerald eyes. Her eyes knew how to stop a man dead. Not from beauty or lust...but fear. "So I shall be better than both." Without another word, she turned and retrieved her arrow. The yard was dead silent. The little cat seemed older beyond her years. And though no man, woman, or child would say it to her parents, they all knew the same thing. Death came to the queen and what was supposed to be a prince that night. Death should have taken two with him. Instead, the queen lived, a princess was born. And Death kissed the child...before the child killed Death.