Lorian lit a small campfire. It was a moonless night and the darkness all but engulfed him were it not for the glowing flame. He was but a bit a ways from their hovel, near the edge of the forest. The little clearing he was in afforded him a silent refuge from the rest of his siblings. Though he loved them so, being one of the older of the Legacy’s orphans meant that he carried the responsibility of caring for the younger ones. It was a heavy burden, and there was only three of them to shoulder it- Oromia, Lorian and Talia.
Sixteen children parented by three. They were the first to wake, the last to sleep. They cooked, they cleaned, they washed, and they put them to sleep. Then they did it all again the next day, and the next, and the next.
Lorian sometimes just needed an escape.
This little campsite of his provided him just that, and a little more…
As the fire grew and crackled, Talia, approached from the thicket and embraced him from behind. Lorian smiled then turned around, and the two shared a deep passionate kiss.
“Are the rest all asleep?”
Lorian asked as his eyes wandered onto Talia.
“Soundly.”
Talia moved onto a mat near the fire and beckoned Lorian over with a gesture. The flickering flames bounced off her amber eyes and traced shadows all over her voluptuous figure. Lorian had all manner of lustful thoughts brewing in the back of his mind, but today was different.
He was exhausted. Dawnstar’s new “play” had consumed whatever little time he had to rest. On top of looking after the others, and between rehearsing and managing the props for his younger brother’s plan, he had no energy left. He had half dragged himself over to this clearing to just find a little moment of peace for himself.
Despite their budding romance, Lorian wished at very moment, to be left alone.
“What’s wrong?” Talia sensed Lorian hesitation.
“I’m just tired, is all” Lorian crawled towards Talia, and laid down on the mat beside her.
“You don’t have to put yourself through this. We do more than enough.” Talia runs her fingers through Lorian’s hair.
“And I don’t like it. I don’t like what he is making you do. Haven’t you noticed?” Talia props Lorian’s head onto her lap, and Lorian slowly starts drifting away into sleep.
“There’s something strange about our youngest brother. The things he thinks of, how he speaks-”
“Please, Talia stop.”
This was an argument that they had many times before. Even after what they had been through together, Talia had a deep distrust of Dawnstar and his mother. Like almost all the orphans of the Legacy, she had lost her entire family on board the accursed ship. In her grief she had sought for someone to blame. Sunfire was an easy target. Not only did she start the entire chain of events, but in Talia’s eyes, she was the architect of their current predicament.
She failed to see that Sunfire and indeed, Dawnstar, were just as much victims as she was, and that they were all under Lord Ney thumb.
“We could run away.”
Lorian opened his eyes.
“That’s what I’m trying to do. If all goes well with our baby brother’s plan, we could all run away far from here. We could be free.”
“I mean right now. Just you and me.”
Lorian was taken aback by Talia’s suggestion, largely in part because he secretly wished for it. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want comfort his siblings when they had nightmares, he didn’t want to cook for them, he didn’t want to be a dad to sixteen other children.
But they were all he had for family, and he couldn’t abandon them. Even as he pushed that momentary idea of elopement out of his head, he couldn’t help but feel an an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Talia, once again sensing Lorian’s thoughts, quickly corrected herself.
“Forget what I said. It was just nonsense.” Talia rested her hands on Lorian’s shoulder, rubbing gently while humming a tune.
Both of them knew that running away was not just “nonsense”, it was their secret desire.
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Eleven burly, swarthy men surrounded Dawnstar and his sibling troupe. They were ambushed on their way back home, on the small forest road that they often took.
The men carried with them torches that made their figures even more imposing in the dark forest. Standing at the head of this gang was Blankey, who assembled them for the purpose of cornering the children into giving up what he needed – the play. The order had come directly from Ney, and he couldn’t wait to accomplish his master’s goals.
He knew he would be richly rewarded.
While Blankey may have had other alternatives to acquiring the it, none were easier nor more profitable than simply taking it from the children. After all, they were only children, what could they do?
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Blankey, holding a torch himself, took a step forward.
“Put down everything. The props, the script, and the backdrop canvases. Do so and you’ll leave with your lives.”
The children only numbered four – Oromia, Lorian, Nazret and Dawnstar. The rest, led by Talia, had gone on ahead hours ago. They were alone, and they were scared.
Yet Dawnstar considered resistance. Ever since his inadvertent behavior during the lesson that almost revealed his condition – that of being a woebearer, he had worked feverishly on a plan out. The play was three months of blood, sweat and tears, not just from him but also from the rest of his siblings. Looking at the expressions of the three around him, he imagined that they felt the same, if not stronger.
They didn’t want to give anything up.
The circle around them closed in, the men, like the metal bars of a jail. There was no escape.
As much as he hated giving up all they had achieved, there was no other option. Their lives were more important. While there was no guarantee of the thieves letting them go, they had no power to do anything else.
“Okay.”
The siblings glanced at Dawnstar.
“It’s okay, we can always make more.” Dawnstar attempted to console his brothers and sister. A flash of anger hardened their faces, but they eventually acquiesced. The three placed what they had on the ground. It was an act that left a bitter taste in their mouths.
The air around them remained tense, but there was a certain lightening of the threat of danger the moment Dawnstar gave in. The men began to hastily gather what the children had left on the ground, and carrying the props away to the side.
Tears of anger streamed from Nazret face.
“C’mon hurry up” Blankey shouted to men. He walked over to inspect the items gathered and cross-checked them with a list he had memorized from watching the play. He wanted to sure that nothing was left out.
“This all seems in order-” Blankey was interrupted by sounds of a scuffle.
“The boss said EVERYTHING!” One of the men tried to pry a pouch out from Lorian’s hands.
“This is not part of the play!” Lorian screamed. The bagged ripped in half and coins – their take from the performance, spilled onto the ground.
Just as Blankey was about to step in, the man reached for a dagger.
The eyes of the children widened. Blankey shouted for his man to stop. Time seemed to slow down.
The dagger thrusted into Lorian’s chest.
“That’s what you get-” As the man sneered over a fallen Lorian. Oromia howled in fury and tackled him from behind.
They both tumbled into a heap, and with a rock in hand, Oromia began pounding onto the skull of his brother’s assailant.
Nazret and Dawnstar ran over to Lorian side. The rest of the thieves closed in. They pulled Oromia off their accomplice and wailed on him with kicks.
“ENOUGH!” Blankey shouted, with a volume that silenced even the crickets in the forest. His men stopped. The one that was attacked was unrecognizable, his face a mess of bone and blood. With a gesture from Blankey, they quickly left, carrying the injured man with them.
The sounds of the forest crept in with their leaving.
Lorian started coughing blood. Nazret reached for the dagger still in his chest but Dawnstar stopped her.
“We can’t pull it out. He will bleed to death if we do.”
Nazret froze. A battered and bruised Oromia limped over to Lorian side.
“What do we do?” Oromia asked Dawnstar.
Dawnstar tried recalling every piece of medical knowledge that he had, but he was no doctor. All he knew were what he saw from television or movies, or from his own personal experience with doctors. He was not taught this. For the first time in a long time, Dawnstar had no answer.
“Tell us what to do!” Oromia shouted.
Dawnstar remained speechless.
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When they finally reached home, faces of shock and horror greeted them.
As Lorian was laid onto his bed, dagger still in his chest, the children shrieked and gasped. While they were no stranger to tragedy and violence, seeing it so close, and happening to one of their own, struck fear into their hearts.
Many were weeping.
Lorian coughed up more blood. His breaths were getting increasingly ragged and short. Talia held his hand tightly, half mumbling prayers and half crying.
Dawnstar took the lead and gave out orders.
“I need you to boil some water, and you, get some clean cloth.”
The children that were singled out froze for a moment, they were still in a state of shock.
“NOW!”
They snapped out of their daze at Dawnstar’s urging. There was not a minute to lose if they wanted to save their elder brother.
“Oromia, stay here. Don’t pull the dagger out, I will try to get some help. The rest of you, keep a fire going, keep Lorian warm and comfortable. The room must be kept clean, and make sure to wash your hands.”
The entire hovel was in motion. The hearth was kindled right away. Some started cleaning, others brought new blankets and fresh sheets. All busied themselves, almost as if they were trying to block off the horror of their dear brother’s possible demise.
Dawnstar needed to get help swiftly, yet as he rushed to the door, Talia grabbed him arm and stopped him.
“You did this. You and your plan. You did this to him.”
Oromia stood up.
“Tal, please. This is not the time-”
“You tell me this is not the time? You see our brother with a knife still in his chest and you tell me this is not the time? Can’t you see what he has done? What he has made all of you do! You cannot tell me you don’t see it. He is-”
“A woebearer.” Dawnstar completed Talia sentence.
The whole house fell silent.
There was grim expression etched on Dawnstar’s face as he looked at Lorian lying on his bed, and then at the others. He wondered if faces that looked back at him were fearful because of his confession or if they were fearful simply because Lorian was fading quickly.
“I’m a woebearer. I admit it. And I’m probably why all this-” Dawnstar tried to gesture the reality of all their circumstances.
“-all this happened. But I didn’t choose it. And I want what all of us want. Right now, I’m trying to save our elder brother.”
There was a pleading in Dawnstar eyes. It was matched with anger in Talia’s.
“LIES! The younger ones may not know better but we do. So why are you defending… that thing?” Talia turns to Oromia, with an accusatory finger pointed at Dawnstar.
“Okay then. What do you to do Tal? Kill me? I’m weak, you could probably kill me easily. Then what? What are you going to do next. Lorian is still lying there. Go on. Tell me!”
Talia was struck dumb.
“You know what’s going to happen next? Lorian’s going to die. Then because I’m dead, Ney will come in and toss all of you out He might kill everyone or sell everyone. He already tried once, with me, you think he is not going to do the same to you, to all of you?”
Some of the children recoiled as if someone had whipped them.
“These past few years that we spent – we are brothers and sisters to one another, are we not? I’m trying to find a way out, not just for me, but for all of us. You are angry, I get that. You can take it out on me, but don’t let Lorian die out of spite.”
Oromia reached out and pulled Talia into a hug, and she broke down into uncontrollable sobs in his arms. Dawnstar slipped out through the door and ran towards the manor.
There was only one person that came to his mind, one person with the requisite knowledge and the disposition to help him – Edros, his tutor.