I’ve been tortured by an evil wizard, sparred with one of the strongest warriors in the city, seen an evil god up close and personal, and avoided the gentle embrace of Death at every turn, but nothing I had endured so far could shock me as much as Mibata’s appearance tonight did. Every threat I faced had some kind of emotion I could attribute it to: a mage’s malice, a fighter’s fury, or a god’s greed. It had something I could recognize. The look in Mibata’s eyes had no visible motivation, no inherent emotion for me to attribute it to. It was as if he were looking directly into my soul, and the body it inhabited didn’t exist.

I went to stand up, but could feel the pressure on my injured leg was too great. I reached for my crutch, but was hesitant when I saw the glint in his eye. There was no magic coming from him, but the scales on my back were pricked up from the foreboding threat of violence lurking behind those eyes. Fighting through the fear, I grabbed my walking assist and stood up. Before I could take a step his voice locked me in place.

“Your slate. Bring it.”

With slate in hand, I was led into the main room, where I could see Behruk lying in bed, with Yabtin below him in the communal bed. Mibata led me towards the wall opposite of them, and ushered me into a room that was not here before I went to sleep. It was cramped and narrow, with a pile of boxes and rolled up rugs against the far end. I noticed that there was a chest sitting with the lid ajar among the pile of items, inside was a hefty sum of coins.

“This is Bahruk’s hidden storeroom. A secret place where we may speak freely.”

To one wall was an actual table with two stools beside it. Taking one for himself, he gestured for me to take the other. Nothing was said between us for a good long while. He remained cold and stiff, and I was too afraid to use my writing. His words returned in the same level tone as before.

“What is wrong? Why do you not write?”

What was wrong with me? I should be able to respond just by pulling my slate up and telling him that I’m scared, but my body refused to allow me that action. All I could do was remain still and study my brother. He was still the same size as me, and his physique hadn't changed, but it felt like I was in the room with a stranger. His smell, the look in his eye, a subtle difference in his sheen, even his posture all seemed off in a way that nagged at me.

“Have I upset you?”

My memories of how he was as a hatchling began to seep into my vision. His quiet way of following after me, his simple method of communication, and his ever-observant stare: they were all unique to him. He was the one who was quiet about everything he saw, but had a deeper understanding than the surface level.

“Sister?”

I could hear everything that mom told me about getting her children back. I was the one who was left behind, even though it broke her to do so. He might not have even known what was going on, he might not even remember now, but he was willing to do anything to get back to me. I had saved him from despair, he had saved me from destruction. I didn’t know how to go forward from there. He was different now. I needed to know that he was still Mibata.

I wrote my question, and I could see something within him move.

“Do you remember the cage?”

His eyes lowered to the floor.

“Yes.”

I had to hold the slate closer to him to gain a response.

“Tell me your story.”

“Juaki has already told you what happened. I will only repeat what has already been told.

“I want to hear you. It is your story to tell. Something between us is broken, I want to fix it. There is something in you that nobody can see, a thing that you despise. I know it is there. Show me.”

Mibata took the slate from me and set it on the table. This was a silent way for him to ask for no interruptions. I intended to honor that request.

“I do remember our hatching. You were first to vacate your egg, and by displaying your intellect had branded us as irregular. We had only just broken through our own shells when they took us to that place. When we awoke within that iron prison, you were standing near the back wall glaring at the elder. I acted as the others did and feigned ignorance. The elder was fooled, and we were removed. While we were taken away I saw the intent of the elder: you would not leave that room alive. I could have kept my silence. I could have let it happen. If I were smarter, I might have done it. Instead, I couldn’t allow you to slip away. I wept, screamed, crawled, and bit my way back towards you. A part of me that I didn’t know yet had seen your eyes, and was prying its way into my thoughts. It commanded me to rescue you. My efforts succeeded, though it was Juaki that performed the feat of freeing you. I was only a hatchling, and a weak one at that. I harbor no shame for my limitations.”

A moment of rest, a deep ragged breath, and the sound of claws digging into the wooden table slowly.

“No. It is not shame that haunts me. Guilt. Things that I know now have changed my perspective of what was. During our infantile days*, I revered you as a savior. That is true, but another side of me resented you for your existence. This part blamed you for our detainment. It blamed you for drawing the ire of that vile caster of spells. It blamed you for making the others upset. This part of me was at war with my idolization, and the conflict left me unable to see what was really happening to our family.”

Tears were forming at the edge of his pain-filled eyes. The dangerous glimmer was gone, replaced by anguish.

“Some part of the truth was discovered today. You are not the cause of our misfortune, just the one who has taken the impact. Our clutch has long been rumored to be cursed. Even before our hatching, the elders had tried to extinguish us. This revelation forced me to open these memories that I did not want. The guilt came back to taunt me. The voices of the visions only made it worse. I was wrong. If I left you behind in the cage, left you to die, then nothing would change. The elders would go after the next of us, then the next, until all were dead. You are not the cause, I know this, and yet the vile wyrm in my heart whispers these evil things. It hates you, but the rest of me reveres you. I wish to carve myself open to find this sickness, tear it out, and burn it!”

Tears splattering on the floor, a fist slamming into wood: the sounds of a heavy burden being carried. His voice is hoarse, and he can no longer look at me.

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“I hate these cursed voices! They use a vile way of harming me: they use my own voice, and the voices of our parents and brothers. They tell me of how I have failed, and that I am not deserving of forgiveness. I lied about my dreams as well! I am not locked in the cage. You are in the cage, alone, and I am leaving you behind. I see your suffering, and I turn my back on you! I tell my dreams that I wouldn’t do that, not anymore, only to have my memories of when I would have done so spat onto my face!”

His hand grabs the slate from the table and slides it over to me slowly. He’s trembling so hard it’s making his voice waver.

“Tell me. How do I forgive you for something you had no say in? Am I worthy of forgiving myself for things that have not happened? What must I do to atone? I… I am lost.”

I accept the offered slate and take the chalk hold in my hand, only to find myself at a loss. Every reply I think of is insufficient, incapable of helping him come to terms with his inner demons. The chalk barely touches the surface when it all comes to a halt. Realization, understanding, a veil being lifted from my eyes. I see something that was there all along, just unrealized.

Before me are three paths. One is silence, which will send him into a downward spiral that he will never recover from. Two is what he wants to hear, which will only drive him away. Three is to tell him what I want to say, the end of this path cannot be seen. Death, is this your gift? Are these my only options?

No, I choose my own path!

I write what my heart says is the right thing for both of us to hear. Every scrape of the rock against wood caused Mibata to flinch, to shy away from something terrifying and unknown. Instead of turning the board to face him, I choose to lay it facing down against the surface of the table. My intention is there: you must choose to read these words yourself.

His shuddering hand reaches for the words, but my own hand catches his fingers. He is so cold to the touch, it is almost frightening. His eyes look into mine, and recognition flashes in his pupils. I squeeze his hand in reassurance, nod for him to proceed, and smile to let him know that my words are the truth.

My grip releases his hand, only for his fingers to rest atop the slate. His shaking had stopped, the tears slowed but were still moving down his cheeks, and his breath had evened. He was bracing for impact. His resolve returned, and he chose to hear me, as I had heard him.

“Acceptance. You cannot remove a part of your heart. It will grow, change, and be remade with time, but only if you let it. It is like a scar, and it may hurt more as it mends, but even the worst marks fade eventually. I love you as a whole, Mibata. Please do not take a piece away from my brother.”

A knot that had been tied in his soul came undone, and his shoulders relaxed. The scent in the air around him changed, and the light of his eyes began to shine through the tears. For what felt like the first time, I saw a genuine smile on his face. Not his fake smile, or the one he used for reassuring others. This one was from the heart. That was his real happiness being displayed.

"I apologize. You are right. I would be less of a kobold if I removed every part of me that ached. Is that how you have become so strong, sister?"

Before I could take the slate back,, his features darkened. Something in him changed, and he slid the slate back over the table to me in a slow and deliberate fashion. What is that look he's giving me?

"Kay, I must confess to more of my lies, and ask you something important. I request that you not misunderstand my words."

That is an odd request, but I can try. I nod.

"I can see the soul in people. I know when others lie, when they hide things, and what they feel. It is not a magic or spell, it is just something I feel with my heart. I use it to know when to say the words that calm others. That is how I knew you were in danger from the wicked one, and when our parents lied to us."

This sounds a lot like having an overabundance of empathy. Mibata wasn't just watching people, he was reading them. Delving deep into the inner working of those around him with only his senses.

"I have known what others think and feel, as if I could hear minds. Every mind except yours. The soul is there, and it is bright, but the way it moves is not like any other. Everything you think is a mystery to me. Regardless of that, I try hard to know you through your actions."

I suppose he would have a greater insight into my methodology, given how we always talked the night away before the ritual. Still, it seems as though something about me being a reincarnation has his intuition stumped. Could I confide in him regarding my origin?

"Now I realize something that was obvious, so easy to see that I am ashamed that I did not consider it. You have endured and suffered in silence, for so long. I took your strength for granted, and assumed that you were alright, because I could not read your sorrow like the others. Now that I am aware of this, I am ashamed that I did not ask you sooner of how you were feeling. I want to know what goes on in your head, for you to speak from your heart. Give me your truth, as I have given mine. Please, I must know that you are not suffering alone as I do."

It looks like no matter what I do, I'm just going to keep making my family worry. I suppose it would probably help to get some things off my chest, and who better than Mibata? I have a few things he needs to hear from me. Let's see how receptive he's feeling first.

"I have to tell you a few things."

Mibata nodded, his fake smile now creeping over his features.

"Of course. Say anything you want, I am here to-"

I shoved my slate in his face. I couldn't stand him trying to put that mask on for my sake.

"No interrupting. This is serious. I need you here."

The facade peeled back, leaving him with a genuine look of focus. He leaned forward with his hands wrapped together.

"You are right. You deserve my undivided attention, as you offered yours. I listen with my heart."

An old idiom he picked up: he’s acknowledging the importance of my words.. With that out of the way, it was time to wear this chalk down.

"You're right. Ever since day 1, it's been an everlasting battle to keep going. I do try to stay strong for the rest of you, even when I can't even see the way in front of me. I push everything else aside, only focusing on what more I can do for others. I'm always afraid, angry, and overthinking, just waiting for things to get worse. Not having a voice makes me feel like a burden. Everyone has to stop and wait for me to write everything out. I didn't respond earlier because you were acting differently and I thought you were going to hurt me, but now that I know why, I'm sorry I doubted you. I know you would never do that. I trust you now more than ever.”

I had just wiped the slate of another batch of worries, but I had to confirm something first before I did something careless.

"Brother, is it alright if we discuss our visions from the altar? It's something that I don't want to say, but I think you need to hear it."

Thankfully, he nodded a yes. This was the biggest issue, and I wanted to be certain that he was okay with me bringing it up.

"When the dragon in the mirror spoke to me, it said things about me that I haven't shared with anyone. It didn't just read my soul, it actually grabbed hold and twisted it around. It knew who I really was. Ever since it gave me its gift, I haven't felt right. Something is wrong, both in my head and with my body. I'm scared. I had something called a panic attack yesterday, and when I did it felt like something was trying to hurt me from the inside. It wanted to kill me."

The slate was taken from my hands as Mibata read it closer. His look was incredulous, and I could see a deep well of dread.

"I don't understand, what do you mean by this? What… why do you say that it knows you in a different way than we do? Please, tell me. I swear, I will not betray your trust. You are in danger, I must know why!"

I hadn't meant to let that slip, but it was necessary that he knew.This was the moment I had feared since the day my voice was taken from me. Something that the one who had wounded me didn't want me letting slip. I had to choose whether to deny my past, or to embrace it. I knew I could trust the one before me, but I feared how it would change things. We had just had a truly remarkable breakthrough, and now it could all go down in flames.

I held out my hands, asking for my method of communication to be returned. I looked at the worn wooden square, then back to my brother. This was it. If he rejected me for what he was about to learn, then this would be the end of the line. I could see the paths again, but they were ironclad. There was no maneuvering my way around it. Mibata would decide whether I would embrace the light, or be plunged into darkness.