Rueln Layheart
I felt scattered like my soul, everything that made me up was pulling me apart in two directions. I was me and… I wasn’t.
Fingers gently combed through my braid, pulling the long black strands free a little at a time while I sat between mother’s legs. I could hardly keep still, too happy for words as my mother went through her routine to prepare me for bed.
Confusion washed over me. What?
“Be still, my little flower,” my mother laughed, tugging gently at what remained of my braid. “I cannot brush your hair if you keep moving.”
“Sing me a song,” I begged, turning so I could rest my hands on her knee, my small fingers curling into the expensive silk of her dress. “I’ll be still, I promise.”
What is this? This isn’t mine.
“Alright, alright,” she breathed, bending so she could kiss the tip of my nose. “Turn around.” I obeyed and grew still under her touch as she reached to the vanity beside her and picked up the sapphire blue comb with silver roses carved along its spine. It was so beautiful, and my favorite, but mother would never let me use it on my own. I think she was afraid I would break it. I beamed up at her, then closed my eyes as my mother combed through my long black hair, her voice filling our home with the celestial song of the beginning. The sound was almost magical to my ears.
Heavy.
My body was so heavy. What was that? A dream? My eyes opened to slits, even that much cost me much of what little energy I had left to me. A figure was bent over me, dabbing at my face with a wet cloth. My vision blurred and spun before focusing on Master Esra’s serene expression.
“Master?” I croaked, my hand twitching when I tried to move it, but my body refused to obey me.
“Shh,” she soothed. “A healer has already seen to you. You’re in recall. It will be over soon.” She turned away, taking the cool rag with her, only to dip it into a bowl and wring it out once more. “The healer said you were fighting the memories. Rest and let them come as they wish. It will be easier on you.”
I shook my head, my vision swimming again. My head pounded as if a hundred oxen were stomping on my brain. I groaned, closing my eyes again, wanting to escape back into the dark, but I didn’t understand what was going on. All I could remember was bumping into someone and… the comb… The comb was in my dream, or was it… a memory?
“Shh,” Master Esra soothed again, gently brushing my hair back from my face when I opened my eyes. “Rest, Rueln. It will all pass soon, I promise.”
I didn’t have the energy to nod, but I obeyed, closing my eyes and falling into the dark and into the memories that waited for me there.
Fingers pulled at the long black strands of my hair, braiding sections of it back so it would remain out of my face. It used to amaze me to have my hair done in these intricate designs, highlighting my status among my people, but now it just bored me. Not to mention the discomfort in having my roots nearly pulled out got old. I was patient, however, closing my eyes to allow my handmaiden and guard Ara to do her job. She enjoyed her work, and it wouldn’t be kind of me to show my impatience for it.
“All done!” she beamed, her hands moving down to my shoulders. “What do you think?”
Opening my eyes, I put on a smile for her and admired my reflection as she expected. There was no doubt I was beautiful if that word truly held any importance to me. My eyes stared back at me, nearly as black as my hair, which fell to my thighs. Braids framed my delicate face, giving my already feminine features an angular look, though the scar that ran from just under my left eye to my throat told a different story.
Tilting my head, I looked back at Ara, my eyes softening when I saw her expectant face. “I love it,” I said. “Beautiful work, as always.”
Her fingers tightened around my shoulders for a moment before she bent and lay a gentle kiss in my hair, lingering a moment too long. I disliked when she or anyone else did this. It always left a twisting nauseous feeling in my gut. There was no malice behind it. I just didn’t like physical affection. I never had, but Ara seemed to be prone to it.
“Thank you,” she said as she danced away towards my bed where she had laid out lavish dress robes for the day.
I took one look at it and shook my head. “I’m not wearing that. The silk will look ridiculous. This is a war meeting, not a ball. Put it away.” I turned to the mirror again, leaning over to make one last change to my hair before I moved over to my wardrobe to find something for myself.
Ara’s shoulders slumped, but she obeyed, putting the gown carefully away. As I worked, my other handmaiden Sepher pushed through the tent curtain and came to help. She had a stoic quiet about her I always liked, a contrast to Ara’s airiness. Both were extremely deadly warriors in their own right, having earned their places beside me several years prior. For them to still be with me now was an honor.
“Thank you,” I said when the older woman pulled out a crimson tunic with orange designs decorating the elegant fabric. I already had a pair of white pants to go with it and began pulling them on while Ara came to help with my boots.
“It is an important night,” Sepher murmured when she helped me dress in the tunic and adjust the silver chest plate into place before belting on a sword to my hip. When they finished, Sepher took a step backwards to admire the look. “You are a powerful woman, an inspiring leader.” She smiled with pride and glanced over at Ara, who stared at me with that familiar devotion she always had. I smiled at them both and offered my hands to them, allowing both to kiss my knuckles as they bowed respectfully to me. “Show those men who lead us.”
“This is it, isn’t it?” I asked, my confidence rising. “This battle will be the last.”
“That’s what we’re hoping for at least,” Ara said, rising to her feet again and hurrying to the table where my dagger still rested. The handmaid quickly took it and returned it to me, helping me slip it onto my hip before both guards went to retrieve their own weapons.
“I believe you will know more in a few minutes,” Sepher murmured, making a few last-minute adjustments to herself and then Ara. They both needed to look just as presentable as I did. We had worked far too long and hard to prove that women had every right to stand as tall as any man to diminish ourselves now.
“I pray it is the last,” I said, reaching down and pulling out my dagger and lifting it to kiss the jewel resting in its hilt before returning it. “Let’s go.”
Luck. That was for luck. When did I ever do that? The edges of my vision blurred and darkened as my consciousness tried to pull me out of the memory. I sensed the foreign life of my past self trying to merge with my mind, but it was unnatural. My instinct was to fight it, to push it away so I wouldn’t lose myself anymore. Trying to separate myself from the memories was the hardest thing I have ever done, and only when I realized the fight was useless did I give in again and fade back into the body of the strange woman.
I was her, whoever she was. The body was different, the life, the memories, the relationships, but our soul remained the same. She had been with me all my life and I just hadn’t realized.
Who are you?
Sepher moved to her place as the head guard at my right while Ara went to the tent curtains and pulled them back, allowing me to exit unimpeded. When we were through, Ara moved to my left and I led them through the camp with my head held high, walking with assertive purpose to my destination. I belonged here, not in the fancy estates of my birth. I belonged among the blood and the gore, fighting to end the suffering of my country.
As I walked, soldiers and civilians alike drew closer, bowing to me without a word. Some tried to get close enough to touch the cloth of my tunic, but neither of my guards would allow it. Instead, I smiled and nodded my head, recognizing them, even greeting a few by name before moving on. I couldn’t linger to talk as I normally might, not tonight when so much was still at stake.
I felt more present the second time I broke from the memory, my mind slowly growing more aware of my consciousness. I could tell it wasn’t supposed to be this way—this separation—but Aleah had always said I was stubborn. I didn’t want to lose myself. Whatever this was, recall or not, I wanted to be me when I woke up. I was afraid of falling in and becoming whoever this woman was when I opened my eyes. Keeping myself aware, however, was like walking in black tar. I was only wearing myself down until I was weak and raw to the bone.
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What was I supposed to do? What was the point of having memories of a past life? It’s gone! I don’t understand!
When we reached the large command tent, the soldiers on either side of the entrance bowed, drawing the drapes back to allow us inside. I resisted the urge to curl my lip at the lush furnishings, including what looked to be an expensive rug across the damp ground. We were at war. The men often accused me of having delicate tastes, yet, they waste gold on this? It always astounded me how blind they were to the irony of it.
I took a shallow breath as I fought the urge to wet my lips. It would show weakness and I couldn’t allow that. Instead, I raised my eyes to the men filling the room, each one’s desire to intimidate me plain in every inch of their bodies. They wanted to see me bow to them, to kneel before them as women always had. Instead, I raised my chin and allowed a smile to press my lips together. I bowed to no one.
“Tomorrow we are going to take Teshka,” I announced as I stepped further into the room and took my seat on the cushion at the head of the war table, my two guards at my back. Before me were the most recent maps of the city and the expected guard roaster. I paused for a moment, my eyes sweeping over everything before I glanced to my left at General Miash before pointing to the position of his troops. “What is the meaning of this?”
Seeing no error in where he placed his men, General Miash answered with an annoyingly large amount of confidence. “We are striking the southern wall where the supports are the weakest while you and General Hami attack the north. We can get inside with minimal casualties and—”
“You’re wrong,” I interrupted, frowning now. “Have you ever traveled to Teshka before the war, General Miash?”
The man looked old enough to be my father. When his gaze turned to me, I saw the contempt written behind the polite, confident smile. “I don’t see why that is necessary. I have studied the city’s layout extensively. The only thing along the southern walls is the slave holdings.” He chuckled, casting off those lives as if they were only sand dirtying the bottom of his robes. “There won’t be a line to break with those weak creatures in our way, increasing the speed my unit can attack the Teshka troops from behind.”
My horror and anger were only an echo of my past life’s. Her jaw clenched as if it were my own and there was the briefest moment of confusion as our sense of selves mingled and then broke again when she looked down at her clenched fist resting on the table. My vision flickered, and my head nearly exploded with pain as images of a bare arm covered in bruises and branded flickered over hers. They were gone before I had a sense of what exactly I had just seen. Vhal’s emotions drowned me. A foreign understnading and urgency overwhelmed me before it faded again like a forgotten dream. Had that been real?
I pulled my gaze away from my fist, loosening my fingers until my hand rested palm down once more against the table. This body hadn’t experienced that torture or lack of owning oneself. I couldn’t explain those things to these men. They were still of an age where people could be owned, traded, and bred like cattle. It was that mindset I wanted to change so badly.
My temptation to expel General Miash from this battle was growing, but I knew there would be consequences on the morale and trust of his soldiers if I dismissed him for this. His was in ignorance born of culture; I had to remind myself.
Opening my eyes, I met his, and could almost feel the hesitation coming off of him as if he knew he had made an error somewhere but was unsure where. “General Miash, I must insist you reconsider.”
“What is to reconsider? They are slaves. They bring no value to this war and serve no purpose beyond performing whatever job was required of them.” The man shook his head, dismissing me entirely.
“Then allow me to rephrase,” I said, my voice suddenly cold. “I order you to not attack the southern wall. You will not bring harm to the people who do not possess wills of their own.”
“This is war,” he laughed, looking at the other men as if knowing they shared his opinion. “There is no room for sentimentalities of the gentler sex.”
Ara whistled behind me and Sepher cursed, but I already had my dagger out and I threw it with explosive accuracy across the table to land inches from General Miash’s fingers. Fire licked along the metal, hissing as it ate up the map. I stood to my feet, walking calmly around the table to look down at the floor where General Miash had fallen, his eyes wide at my sudden and violent attack.
“I will repeat myself only once more,” I said coldly, anger dripping from my tongue at his ‘gentler sex’ comment. “Because I’m afraid you didn’t hear me correctly. You will not attack the southern wall. If you think this is from any sentimentalities, by all means, pick up your blade and show me exactly how much stronger you are to me. I insist.”
He was thinking about it. His hand inched towards the sword at his hip, refusing to look away from me just in case I attacked him again with magic. Every person in this tent knew of my abilities and though they would never admit it aloud, they knew I was more powerful than they were magically and more skilled with a sword. When he didn’t make a move to pull his weapon, I straightened and took a step back.
“Now that we have settled that matter,” I said, dismissing the event and returning to my cushion. “Allow me to remind you why we are here. We are here to defend the human rights of our people and unite this empire under one rule so that all are equal. We are not here for profit, or to satisfy your own personal pride. They may be slaves to you, but when that city is under my control, then they will be a free people with the rights of any other.”
“The economic impact of that decision will devastate the empire! We won’t be able to recover from it,” a man dressed in elaborate robes called from the back.
“If the economic impact is all you care about, then you haven’t been paying attention in the years we have been at war,” I stated plainly, eyeing him before making a motion to Ara to hand me the papers I had told her to pack earlier. “What you don’t realize is that slavery itself is devastating to the economy as it is. They trained slaves for specific jobs, but when those jobs are no longer needed, they don’t have the skills or knowledge to perform other necessary tasks. Freeing them and giving them skills, and the education to support themselves, benefits our society and not just the nobles who owned them.”
“Much has gone into this decision,” Sepher said, with much more patience than I would have given them, “and there are fail-safes in place so the change will be gradual enough that no loss will be too great as we made the change.”
“It will not be instantaneous,” I agreed, as much as I wished it would be. “However, this generation of slaves will be the last, and if I can manage it, even they will not live their entire lives as they are. When the empire is under my control, this will be the second act of my will, after women of any age will have the equal rights to men.”
They greeted the rights of women with silence, as I expected. They knew why I fought, and some even agreed with me, despite the cultural and generational prejudices that got in our way. I had been straightforward with them from the beginning, but I knew that if they weren’t so loyal to my family that even I would have failed to make it this far. I earned the loyalty of the commoners through blood and sweat, but the nobles were a different breed. All they cared about was filling their own coffers. What did it matter to them if their daughters were sold to the highest bidder as long as someone bid?
I had almost been among them. If I hadn’t been the only child my mother conceived before she died, the one sold to the highest bidder could have been me. It was a fact I lived with every day, and it still disgusted me even now when I had the freedom and the power to make my own choices.
Smiling, I reached out and placed my hand against the map. Fire flashed to life around my fingers and spread across the table, burning the map to ash and leaving nothing but wisps of ember flickering above us. “Swear your allegiance to me now, by blood and by ash. I will rule this empire and bring it into a new age.”
My eyes flew open, and I jerked up, throwing the blankets off me. Sweat soaked my skin, dripping down my face as I gasped for breath. My eyes stared down at my shaking hands, unable to believe it. The memories I had just experienced, relived even… it couldn’t be real. It was impossible.
Still unable to catch my breath, I reached up and pushed my hair back, my fingers falling through the short damp strands, hardly longer than my chin. Even as I made the once familiar motion, it suddenly felt wrong, like the memory implanted into my skin. It was too short. It should be longer. What was familiar, the auburn strands I’ve had my entire life suddenly felt wrong. It should be long and smooth as silk, the black strands falling down my back and touching the ground when I was sitting like this.
“No,” I whispered, confused by the contrasting sensations of what I felt and what I somehow expected. “I’m not her. My name is Rueln. I’m Rueln.” Repeating my name grounded me. My racing heart began to at last slow down long enough for me to realize where I was.
I lay in the middle of the floor in the hotel room Master Esra had rented. Soft breathing nearby told me Master Esra was asleep. Turning to follow the noise, I found her resting on the bed without a pillow or a blanket.
How long has it been? Who am I kidding? How long doesn’t matter? How is this even possible? I knew exactly whose memories I had just experienced, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. She was already reincarnated. On the day of my memory test, when I was five. I remember everyone celebrating, praising her—my name…
I couldn’t be... Empress Vhal Aairith.
Even as I thought it, I knew it was true. I was the Empress reborn. Which meant that somehow, the empire was being fooled into thinking it was that girl, whatever her name was. Even if that were the case, she was so public with it. It was impossible for me to claim otherwise. I would be the one labeled the liar and fraud. Who would believe some nobody kid who didn’t even get a recall until he was eight?
Slowly I shifted, my body rigid with exhaustion and my head still trying to work itself back on straight. I rose to my feet and stumbled the few feet to the wall so I could use it as support to get to the water basin. Not caring how I looked, and not seeing a glass anywhere nearby, I ducked my head into the cool water and drank deeply, soothing my parched throat. I only stopped when my lungs couldn’t handle the strain any longer.
Holding onto the table, I leaned heavily against it, looking up into the reflection of Rueln and immediately felt like I was looking out of foreign eyes. A sense of wrongness overwhelmed me as if I expected to see the dark eyes and sharp features of Vhal Aairith again. Rueln’s face… my face looked frail and worn in comparison, still recovering from so many years of malnutrition.
Still, I stared at myself, trying to see past the face and to the soul within, knowing that was where the answers lay. “Why was I so sure I lived more lifetimes?” It was impossible, right? No one lived more than twice. “Tell me,” I whispered, knowing there would be no one to answer. I didn’t know how to access the memories of my past life. But I would learn.