The Twelve Hunters

Mind of Ash

I was shaken awake by rough hands that gripped my shoulders, fingers digging through my sleeves and into my skin. My vision slowly focused. I stared into deep, chocolate brown eyes. I blinked. Hard. It couldn't be real. I looked at the softly curved eyebrows, the thick, raven black hair, and- the uniform. It was blue with golden leaves intertwined with vines, running along on both sides of the buttons going down his tunic.

"Crisdon?" I whispered, my voice still scratchy and rough.

My eyes drifted to my right and my left. I was still in the cell, but now I was propped up against the wall.

"Aesan said you had a visitor." His voice was hard- cold.

"I-,"

"He also said that ever since then, for the last two days you have been crying- mourning." His eyes narrowed. Did he know?

Tears started to gather in my eyes again, but I quickly blinked them away. He was a soldier. He had to know what happened. It was his kind that did this.

"You killed them."

His steady eyes sunk, as if a terrible weight had been dropped onto his shoulders.

"You did this," I spat through my teeth. I leaned forward, pushing against the hands that held my shoulders.

I watched his face carefully as a flicker of grief spread over his face, then as it was completely replaced with a neutral mask of cool calm. He stared me in the eyes and squeezed harder. Pain started to pulse in my veins, but I carefully kept myself from flinching.

"I didn't do that. You know I didn't- I wouldn't."

"I can't trust you anymore."

Indeed. He has changed since the last time I'd seen him. A lot. I wasn't sure if I could even see him as the same person.

In return, he squeezed harder and said, "Why didn't you request to see me? I could've helped you."

There was a hint of pain in his eyes, "You could... have helped?" I shook my head, "Could you have saved my family? Could you have stopped the beatings I received? Could you have stopped my arrest in the first place?" A whimper rose from my throat, "What kind of power could you possibly have to help me?"

His brown eyes faded.

"Soldiers?"

I pried his hands off me, "Yes. And thanks for offering your help, but I would rather die."

He scoffed, "Well, I can see that."

I sneered at him and bared my teeth, making him back away from me.

In a deadly, monotone voice, I said, "Get. Out."

I glared as he stood up and exited. I turned my head to my right and saw a tray of food and a large pitcher of water. Something sunk in my stomach, but hunger tore its way through me and I swallowed down the loaf of bread and the few, small pieces of meat that he had probably snuck in. Next, I drank all the water that was there and by the end of my meal, I was full and able to clearly think.

It was close to guilt- what I was feeling, but I still didn't feel too bad about the way I spoke to him. I knew that would sink in later. But as for now, I was prepared for what was to come next.

I slid to the ground and my eyes fluttered shut. Like ink spilling into a canvas, my thoughts spilled into my mind, betraying my skin. I dreamt of the things I wanted to forget and the things I buried long ago. Somehow, the sleep was deep and my eyes refused to open no matter what befell me and, to me, that was the scariest part of it. No way to escape.

I saw my sister, standing in the midst of ashes, hair softly splayed around her shoulders. There was no emotion in her eyes at the sight of me. She stood perfectly still. I tried to draw near to her, but my feet would not move. The roots of the trees wrapped around my ankles, planting me in my place. I called out to her, but she only tilted her head slightly. When she finally spoke, it was as if she had two voices behind her tongue. One as high, and the other deep. Her words were barely audible, but I caught them before the dream sequence vanished.

"I love you."

My eyes flashed open and I shot up. Sweat rolled down the sides of my face and I looked around the room. It was pitch black.

I pushed myself to the wall and pulled my knees into my chest, then cried.

It was cold. It was way too cold. I gripped my head. For them it was hot. Red hot. Their end was ash and mine is to be the frost. I gripped my hair. I miss them. I love them. I dropped to the ground and curled up. What started out as soft crying turned into wails.

Saleh. My little sister.

It was getting hard to breath. I gripped at my neck, struggling to break free of the invisible rope.

No.

I got on all fours and emptied my stomach, losing all the vital food I ate earlier, then crawled away from it to the opposite side of the cell. The stench was unbearable, but I soon calmed down.

My eyelids were heavy and I slowly fell asleep in the midst of all the turmoil tumbling through my head.