Barbarian King

1. The Reveal

ISABELLA

That morning, as the sun began to cast its gentle glow through the window, I abruptly woke to a series of feeble, raspy coughs that echoed through the stillness of the room.

At first, I thought I'd been dreaming. It took me only moments to realize those coughs had been coming from Travis, my five year old brother. 

Allowing my mind no time to adjust to the morning light peeking through the tiny windows, I thrusted the small, raggedy pelt from my body as my bare feet came in contact with the cold floor. Wincing, yet daring not to slow my pace as I made my way to him, I hurried away from my makeshift bed across the living room floor.

I hated winter.

We lacked the means to afford thick furs and pelts, relying solely on my older sister Maria's hunting skills to provide us with meager sustenance. The animals she managed to catch were never substantial enough to yield ample meat for nourishment, let alone to fashion warm garments and furs. It was our humble family of 6 against the relentless grip of Draconian winter, and so far, the latter had been winning.

"Travis?" I whispered softly, my voice barely audible in the cold room. 

Gently, I brushed my fingers through his lank, dark brown hair, which fell over his face in disarray. His hair had grown long, obscuring his vision and giving him a rugged appearance. He lay on a makeshift mattress of blankets on the floor, wrapped tightly in a black pelt to shield himself from the biting cold. His once vibrant cheeks were now flushed with a pale, rosy red, and his frail body trembled beneath the thin layers of coverings, a testament to his malnourished state.

He groaned in pain, teeth chattering, "Izzy, your hand is cold. Stop."

I frowned, blowing air into my hands and rubbing them together in a pathetic attempt at heating them up before I gently placed a hand on his small forehead. "Oh my, you're heating up bad. Are you okay?"

He shook his head, his hazel eyes filling with tears. "It hurts. Everywhere hurts," He whispered, fluttering his eyes shut.

Suddenly, a groggy voice broke through, startling me. I turned my head swiftly, my eyes meeting Maria's tired gaze. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched into her voice. 

I beckoned her closer, my voice barely a whisper, "Maria, come here."

She made her way to us, bending down to reach Travis' level, placing her own hand on his head before flinching at the heat radiating from his body. "Oh no."

Her gaze shifted to me, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and desperation, silently pleading for a solution. "Can't you?"

I felt a lump forming in my throat as I swallowed hard, unable to meet her gaze. My eyes flickered to the cold, hard floor as shame washed over me like a tidal wave. 

"I can take away his pain," I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper, "but I can't heal him... I've been giving away my rations to Jonah and Ilyas for days now. If I try using my powers, it'll kill me."

How cruel was the Goddess, to grant me the gift of healing but withholding the basic means I needed to wield such power. 

I was powerless. 

Standing was already too heavy of a chore, and if I attempted to use my powers, I would risk my life as well as his.

Silence hung heavy in the air, suffocating us all. Then Maria's worried eyes locked onto mine, her brows furrowing with deep concern. "We need more fur, Iz," she said, her voice tinged with urgency, "he's freezing."