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Contrary to what everyone believes, I don't ignore the fact that I tried to die. Neither do I overlook the fact that dying now or in twenty years matters little, but it is clear, that I would always be the one who will be dying, now or at forty.
It's like I've made a mistake. I was not supposed to be like this. I can't write or think, and it has been long since I lost my appetite. I'm tense and impatient, and I wish to take myself away.
For me, the world ended long ago, and I remember every dinner since. And I'm the only one who notices, I will not be here when winter comes.
Perhaps love could save me, but as always, I can't love, much less accept to be loved.
Maybe Ao'nung's love would have convinced me, but I'm a man and will be punished.
How strange is to be anything at all.
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Lo'ak whistled without much care. Lately, his days had been peaceful, but he knew that tranquility would be short-lived for he had a favor to ask.
Admittedly he recognized his own faults. Laziness was his greatest sin, and rebellion was the weight he carried on his shoulders.
His spirit had never been easy to bend. He wasn't a malleable boy, therefore, he couldn't quite fit the perfect mold of a son his father was after.
Many times he wondered what he could do differently. What aspect of himself was he willing to change until he became unrecognizable?
It had happened to his brother. Neteyam had always been willing to bend backward if their father so wished.
Lo'ak couldn't imagine himself like that. Not questioning authority, and blindly following the instructions of a guide like a racehorse.
He did not feel like playing the part of his father's betting animal, even if making him proud was all he had been after since boyhood.
It was a bad casting for both, and being as they were made of flesh and bones, they couldn't be melted, but as Lo'ak chose to remain a bad casting, his brother made the impossible to break without repair. All to fit in the mold.
He stopped by the drawing room in hopes of finding Kiri. The day was boring and he had a wish for music, but when he saw his mother standing by the instrument his interest was peeked by another thing entirely.
She hovered by the glass doors, hiding behind the veil of dark curtains as she peaked through them.
—Something wrong?—He asked softly, going to stand next to her.
Upon further inspection he saw his brother in the distance, sitting by the tree he had grown accustomed to sitting under, holding Tuktirey on his lap as she held a book in her hands.
—Your brother.—Neytiri said worriedly, to which her son simply nodded his head,—Something is up with him.
—Something is always up with Neteyam....—He snicked. The mocking was obvious, but the look of sorrow his mother gave him made him stop, suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of responsibility. —He will be alright.
—Your father keeps saying that.
—See? I doubt he is wrong.
—Your brother is unwell. What if he does something?
—Melancholy won't get the best of him twice.
—It happened to your uncle.—Neytiri touched her chest. A futile attempt to calm her heartbeat.
YOU ARE READING
Water's Embrace || Ao'nung x Neteyam
Fanfiction"The corruption begins with the mouth, the tongue, the wanting. The first poem in the world is: 'I want to eat.'" - Where It Begins, Erica Jong.
