Blood Memories [Last of Elves book 1] (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Forty-Seven: Kuraĝon

Kuraĝon

“Ali, I still don’t understand. What do you mean, the goddess wants you?”

He sighed, and took her hands. “Kura, the land is dying.”

She nodded. She knew that. She had felt it, slowly becoming less and less nice to live in, harder to find the food that had once grown plentiful around the land.

“I can heal it, with the help of the priestess. Do you understand that?”

She nodded again. Although she distrusted the priestess, she trusted her brother, and her brother said it would all be fine.

“Thank you, Kura. I need to do this. Whatever you see, just remember that I’m not leaving you, okay?”

Unexpected tears filled her eyes as she gripped his hands hard. “Ali, what do you mean? I’m confused now.”

Something was shadowing his eyes, something that he was hiding from her, but she couldn’t work out what it was.

“Just trust me,” he repeated. “The priestess will come for you. Be good, alright? Promise me.”

She swallowed her tears, hugging him. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Do you promise me you’ll be good?”

She nodded, tasting salt. “I will. As long as you come back.”

“Of course I will.” She felt his hand tangling in her hair, and smiled through her tears as she pulled back.

“When will you go?”

Before he could answer, there was a soft knock on the door, and he gave her a rueful look. “Now.” He tugged her hair, and exited the room. She caught a glimpse of the dark purple dress of the priestess, and then wandered out onto the terrace. She leant on the railing, closing her eyes. Something was going to happen with her brother. She knew that, yet she couldn’t work out what it was.

It wasn’t long before there was another knock at the door. Surprised, she turned her head, looking at it in surprise. The knock came again, and she sighed.

“Come in.”

Once more, the priestess stood in the doorway, and Kuraĝon turned to face her completely. Two vastly different women, yet linked by the same man.

“Is he safe?” she demanded. The priestess nodded.

“Yes. He is safe. Now, this way.” She spoke stiffly, and Kuraĝon couldn’t work out what her brother liked about her. She was so stiff and cold and uncaring.

Unsuspecting, she followed the priestess outside the temple, wondering what she was needed for. The sight that met her eyes froze her on the spot.

It seemed like the whole of the town had gathered in the open courtyard. There were men and women, children running everywhere. And they were gathered around a simple wooden platform, rising above them.

Her brother was on it.

His wrists were chained in front of him, and he wore a black cloak that brushed the ground, the hood drawn low over his face. As she stared in disbelief, her breath began to hitch in her throat. She spun, glaring at the priestess.

“What are you doing?”

The priestess didn’t move, didn’t take her eyes off the scene in front of them. “I have to protect the people.”

Kuraĝon’s eyes narrowed, and she lunged for the priestess, only to find one of the warriors grabbed her, holding her back. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she fought the warrior’s hold, straining to reach her brother.

She knew now what was going to happen.

“No!”

She screamed it, sobbing. From the where he was being chained, he looked at her, his piercing eyes glinting under the shadow of his cloak.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “No,” she sobbed, begging. As she struggled harder, she felt a chain encircling her wrists, and jerked away. The warrior’s grip on her was tight, though, and she couldn’t stop him chaining her wrists behind her. With that done, he shifted his grip to her elbows, holding her back firmly.

“Ali!”

She could barely hear herself over the shouts of the crowd. She had known that her race was hated, feared, but not this much. Not so much that they rejoiced at an execution. She glared at the priestess, furious.

“You promised!” she accused, her heart breaking. She couldn’t bear the loss of her brother. He was all she had left. “You promised he was safe! You selfish, two-faced, lying … Go n-ithe an catthú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat. Go mbeadh cosa gloine fút agus go mbrise an ghloine.” She trailed off into her native language, cursing the priestess to a horrible death. As she continued, she became aware of the crowd falling silent, listening to her in fascination.

“Kura.”

His gentle, quiet voice carried to her ears, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as she fell silent. She looked at him again, grief tearing her apart. His hood had slipped back on his head, revealing his face. She could see that he accepted what was going to happen.

“Please …” she begged softly, tasting salt.

“Calm yourself, Kura,” he said quietly. “There is no other way.”

“I don’t care!” The words exploded out of her in a heart wrenching cry of pain.

“Hush now.”

She swallowed, sobbing uncontrollably.

“There is no other way, Kura. Would you rather the people be wiped out, the land die?”

“Yes!” she screamed, fighting the warrior and the chain holding her from her brother. “If it means you live, then yes!”

But there was nothing she could do. He was chained by the wrists to the pole, and the man stepped off the platform. A burning torch was handed to him, and he touched it to the kindling at the base of the structure. The wood was old and dry, and caught immediately. A wall of flame soared into the sky, surrounding her brother.

“Ailill!”

She screamed, unable to bear it, unable to keep quiet. His name tore from her, and a deadly hush fell over the crowd. She collapsed in the warrior’s hold, unable to see for the tears streaming down her face.

She was alone.

Again.

Kura’s Curses

Go n-ithe an catthú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat – that the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat

Go mbeadh cosa gloine fút agus go mbrise an ghloine – Have glass legs and may the glass break