Thrjel wanders into the stables immediately choosing the black horse, and complimenting me that I figured out how to tack them up.
"Oh please! Every dimwit could figure it out!" I say and Eliana gives me a look that amuses me. I shake my head, my opinion about this girl changes faster than our headmasters mood. She mounts the white horse and I am left with the lovely auburn one, I follow their lead and we start the ride.
Thrjel leans towards me when I catch up with him as we ride out of the stables. "Is she wearing your trousers?"
I look at him. "Since when do you notice stuff like that? You wouldn't even notice if I shaved my head!"
"Don't be mean! Of course I would!"
"Really? Remember that time you thought another insubordinate was me? Just because he had relatively long black hair and was skinny enough?" I say with a chuckle.
"I only knew you for a few weeks!" He complains.
"Thirteen weeks to be exact, I could already have described every inch of your face by than you dimwit!"
"What does it matter? I am not a detective, I don't need to notice all the details." He whines.
"Then why do you notice this detail?" I ask.
"Because it looks good on her." He answers.
I look at him, the rhythm of the animals mirrored in his hair as it is lit by the crystalline effect of the longing sun, the rays sculpt the negatives of his face as they blind me, being too unrelenting for my obvious lack of beauty. His eyes are filled with emotions he does not control, his mind is racing faster than his heart, I can see that he does not understand and I pray he never will. Because once he does, the blue in his eyes will dim, his laugh will silence, and he will forever mourn the person he was. Or at least I will.
"Xad?" He asks.
"Yes?" I look at him, his eyes dwindling over the horizon, searching for nothing and only finding a sting reminding him that nettles used to be my favourite plant, the tears in his eyes putting out the pain that they might cause. Putting out the possible agony that looking at me will cause and eventually he just shakes his head and spurs his horse, pursuing the beautiful maiden that is riding in front of us, her hair reflecting the sunshine like the halo she doesn't deserve. Or maybe she does and I am blind to it. She looks perfect, she looks beautiful, she looks like him, they would be beautiful. She looks like a precious ring to be given away by someone who has stolen it, she looks like everything I will never be. Her hair swinging with every movement, not quite decided whether to be a curl or not. The golden ring on her finger shatters the merciful sun in millions of pieces, to be picked up by someone who admires them. I look at the two of them, their face both filled with a joy I envy, and uncomplicated reality of blissfulness, or ignorance, of happiness. What does he have that sets him apart? Why should I not have him if I do judge her?
He looks back at me, flashing his smile and with that flashing the very thing I cannot escape from. The me fondness of his being fills my heart, the mercy of his joy warm my thoughts. He has the heart, he has the bravery, to think further than the hate he was taught. But his gaze wanders back to her, and her incredible blue eyes. Her small hands, her apologetic features, her forgiving words, and pursed lips. She is beautiful, with a small smiles she can make you feel like you are turned upside down, as if a bird has picked you up, or as if you are in love. How I hate her for that, how could she be so perfect? And why can't I hate her?
I want everything that she has, the arrogance, the memories of when he was a kid, the same mother tongue. Because by god she has a sharp tongue.... I want the blonde hair that dances through the sun. The small hands that don't have the capability to be clumsy. The blue eyes that look straight through your soul with hidden judgement and visible admiration. The small nose that makes her look like she was a porcelain doll hand painted by a master. I want it all, I want the attention she asks for without uttering a word, I want to meet the gazes of wonder, of beauty, of love. I want to be easy to swallow.

I shake my head, confused by my own thoughts. I am far too proud to be a fianlynds to want to be like her. I am too proud, maybe that is what I have been doing wrong all these years. Maybe I have too much pride, it comes before the fall doesn't it? And what has my life been but a spectacular fall? I have flown too close to the sun, too daring on the wind, and too swift by the water.
Talking about the sun, it illuminates the valley beautifully. Showcasing wildflowers someone wouldn't dare dream of, hiding tiny worlds within them, or portals to others. Water streams as the red thread throughout a life, gifting it too all the creatures near it. Nurturing, caring, for things you could not fathom. How beautiful this life is, how wretched humans are.
We pass a rotting tree, half of it still standing upright, even bearing leaves more illuminating than most. The other half of it dead, destroyed, given up on. What has this tree seen throughout his years, what has he hated without being able to change it, a permanent resident to the damage of the people claiming this earth as ours. And still it has the kindness to offer it's hollow stump as a den, as a home, as a way to flee from all the change that he had been so afraid of, how does it keep itself upright? There must be a secret to this quiet defiance. I wish I possessed the strength to be quiet, but wisdom and silence comes with age and although I have lived three lifetimes in the span of one third of mine I do not have that quality, that depth that you can see in the black top of a lake before it pulls you down without mercy, explaining what you did wrong as the water confuses your lungs and tears away your eyes from everything you truly loved, to leave you with nothing more than a swollen rubbery impression of someone you might've been once.

Our horses halt and so does the murmurs of my mind and the words from their mouths. We look over a meadow, the sun singing its praises of its beauty as the rays dance in the same pattern of the wind, making the tall grass swirl in ways that you only see in paintings. I never thought it was real, I do not believe all realities that are told, I need proof, I need to see it. Scepticism keeps you safe, dreaming makes you dangerous. It is ethereal, a bleak memory of what the whole country used to be, the peace sighing in the gusts of wind trying to sing through the sharp blades. The sky is as blue as a lake with nothing to hide, it isn't a pastel, it is bold and a tad too enthusiastic in its existence, it's not pale, it's not grey it really is blue. A blue God would replicate eyes from, heavenly eyes, superior eyes....

"Isn't it incredible?" Eliana asks taking a deep breath from the salty wind that reminds me thee ocean is nearer than we remember.
"What is?" I ask, turning my head. Her side profile looks like something you would see on a poster for a luxury brand, something they would use to sell makeup or clothes because somebody would be foolish enough to kid themselves that they will look like her. If only it were true, maybe I could afford to look like her some way.
"This land?" She says with a smile and turns to me. There is a spark of pride in my chest, it is an incredible country and it was so much more beautiful before there was a chance to diminish it.
"It is..." I say with a sigh, Thrjel lights his cigarette and winks at me as I study his face and the sheer blouse he foolishly wore, one wrong move and he will tear it.
"It is incredible what our people did to our land isn't it? Restoring it's glory, teaching the locals how to use modern technology. This country was restored by my grandparents..... how beautiful, their country...." She says. I hear a strange cough from Thrjel and wonder if something went wrong with his cigarette or if he is just as shocked as I am.
"Excuse me but your grandparents did not save anything, nor is it their land." I say with a stone face, trying to keep my anger as neutral as possible.
"What do you mean?" She asks, her horse stirs and seems to understand the gravity and unease of the situation better than she does.
"I mean that your grandparents stole land from people who have lived here for centuries, and they didn't even treat them as their equal..... I am all for progress, but giving people the tools for it is different than taking their land to exploit it because you have exhausted the coal industry in your lands!" I say firmly, Thrjel grabs my head and I look at him. His eyes are rather sharp as he purses his lips and shakes his head.
"If you can do so much better why don't you take it back?" She asks.
"Perhaps because this whole society is built on preventing that very fact!" I yell and Thrjel shakes his head.
"There have been many mistakes in the history of our country, and most should have been fixed by now. But you two will never agree on it so I propose we let this subject be for now." He says, curtly and his voice sounds deeper and more authoritative than I am used to.
"Fine!" She complains.
I look at him "So you agree with her?" I ask.
"Don't be a fool Xad, of course not, but I know her well enough to know that you should not paint a target on your back. They can control too much....." He says, he fiddles with his reins and his body slumps forward as if defeated by some imaginary army of emotions. "And that isn't cowardice Xad, that is simply self-preservation of the high society."
We hear a sharp sound and both our heads immediately turn towards it, I immediately notice the small whip some people use on their horses. I can't help but laugh, cynically, delightfully but in all honestly it is mean-spirited. I can see that they are staring at me, I look up and od my head slowly.
"Your father taught you well...." I say with a smirk, mocking her with every word that leaves my mouth, laced in poison even worse than doubt. I can see the confusion in her eyes, or is it fear? I don't think I will ever truly understand this girl.....
"How do you know my father?" She asks.
"Well let's see, when you see somebody whip a six year old half to death I think it will stick by you wouldn't it?" I say, scoffing somewhere in the middle.
"My father wouldn't do something like that?" She says, her voice breaking.
"Oh I am absolutely certain milady, he doesn't have a ruby mine either.... He doesn't fuck fianlynds because it's easier to get rid of the baby with them does he?"
"You are lying, you don't know my father."
"My darling, do you?" I ask as I urge my horse to circle around her, like a predator, I wonder what it feels like now that she knows what it means to lose control.

"Xad!" Thrjel yells, his voice strange, as if I haven't heard it before. As if he is a grown man, not the one I know.
"What? I am just telling the truth?"
"It's malicious! You can't just say that, it's...."
"What?" I interrupt. "Savage? Uncivilised? Come on, tell me what you really think of me." I taunt, my smile wry and strange as if plastered upon my face.
"Don't say that..... You are out of control." He says, his face disappointed, the expression the echoes of my mum, the relaxed shoulders memories of the headmaster, the tears nothing but him.
"You don't get to decide that! I have free will too, why can she say all those outrageous things and am I outrageous for uttering the truth!"
"Just stop!" He yells.
"You can't control me! I am not your servant! I am not your slave! And most of all I am not your fucking brother!"

The silence is haunting, only the unbothered birds sing through it, ignoring my mistake, as if I hadn't made it. The world doesn't stand still for my anger. But the betrayal of trust is something that rings deeply in my ears making it impossible to focus on the birds or anything else. It is a constant reminder as I stare at him, the tears in his eyes stain my mind with bleach of regret and shame. I went too far, this time I really did go too far. How could he forgive me, I couldn't.....
I spur my horse and do what I do best: Run, from another mess I made. I always run, it is the only thing I do well, I will run from grief, from mistakes and anger. Till it finds me, acting innocent like the deer in the woods staring down the barrel as I try to deduce what it is that has come to kill me this time. When the red will finally stain my short enough to decide to quit, when my heart will be allowed to stop beating, when I will not be the perpetrator anymore. But alas, for now I am, another mistake, another thing that will show up red on the ticket of my soul. I always screw things up, why can't I accept love?

The roof offers the quiet solitude I need for my shame, the rumination harmonizes with the sharp wind that cuts through your clothes and ignores your pleas for a more merciful treatment. But you have been cruel Xad, why do you deserve better than you treat others? And why do you always think you were in the right? Why can't you see that you are simply a selfish person? I fold my hands together and lean my elbows on my knees, my feet dangle with the persuasion of the wind whilst I have tried to avoid eye contact with the sunset. It is too beautiful for me, it's too joyful to enjoy. It is strange I can never cry, but as soon as I get too close to it I start to argue, why do I do that? I know why, but it is a foolish reason and it makes me feel even more vulnerable and pathetic. When I am sad I am to blame, when I am angry the world is. I don't want any part in my own suffering, so I simply deny it. I look up the hour of the evening has painted the whole world blue, a powder blue that is just dark enough to obscure the things I might desire to see. I look at my hand, just as blue as the sky, forgetting the red spots of repeated work, repeated hurt, making me whole again, making me equal for a simple moment. I reach into my pocket and open the silver cigarette case while my other hand looks for a lighter, and eventually does find it. I look up, the first stars of the night showing their twinkling face, hopeful I will deem them the prettiest when I only ever look at the whole sky instead of the individuals, but at least they will keep thinking they're the prettiest. I breathe out, the smoke whirls in the same pattern I imagined painters invented, I swirl my hand through it.... So much beauty and I cannot enjoy any bit of it, as my mind screams how wrong I am and what I have destroyed. Already devising a plan how to live without the help of Thrjel. I wish I knew how to be like him, how to be better. Because by God, I have survived so many things, been taught how to live so many different lives and in none of them I have been a good person.

"Stargazing are we?" Thrjel says walking up to me and sitting down, his body a stark contrast to mine as it never has been taught how to look healthy. I look at him, eyes of a frightened puppy awaiting his punishment. He just glances at me and smiles, making the night just a little brighter and showing me why he was worth so much, and how much I am supposed to lose.
"Thrjel.... I know you are mad..... I shouldn't have said that..."
"I told you she was a know-it-all didn't I? You should have listened to me you mopstick." he says with a smirk.
I frown and look at him. "Wait, you aren't mad?" I ask.
"Well I think we should talk about what you said but of course not. You aren't supposed to feel like that are you? And her belief about Fianlynd are dubious to say the least...." He says, grabbing the cigarette from my hand and inhaling the tough smoke it evokes.
"I shouldn't have blown up at you, you didn't deserve it, and what I said to her was cruel." I respond leaning on my leg as I try to make sense of it.
"Well, sometimes the truth is rather cruel." He says with a chuckle.
"But why do I have to utter it? I don't want to hurt somebody, I willingly hurt somebody." I cup my hands and bury the expression of sorrow marked on my face within it.
"Do you think she's really dumb enough not to know a comment like that would anger people like you? She knew she was prodding. It's not fully your fault, it takes two to tango."
I shake my head "I can dance but not like that." I say with a chuckle and he punches my arm as he smiles his priceless smile but as we laugh it starts to fade and a frown dawns on his face.
"Do I really make you feel like you are a slave?" He asks, his eyes pooled with worry as he seeks the sight of mine.
"I....." I bite my lip and look at him. "Not technically but I do feel like I am.... Different. Especially since she arrived, it's like you two have some sort of secret language I don't speak, and I understand she is a friend, she knows you for a long time, but it does make me feel..... alienated. And that is one thing I cannot stand."
He wraps his arm around me and looks at the sky. "I understand, if the whole world alienates you it is frightening if somebody you love comes near it." He sighs. "Xad, she won't be here for long, maybe it's best you avoid her, or something in that sense. We should all tolerate each other for the time being.... I know she isn't a great person."
I chuckle "But neither am I." I say cynically.
"Don't say that xad." He shakes his curls that look too dark in the night. "I chose you, I love you, I care for you. I only have the duty to like Eliana because the friendship spans over at least three generations. My mum knew her mum before she even dreamed of marrying a man like that. I cannot deny this friendship because it would mean I would make it difficult for my mum. Besides it isn't how Awnlund high society works, her mum knows too much about our family. And with children like me and my brother there is a lot of leverage to be had. Eliana is my fate, you are my choice, Xad."
I look my him and put my hand on his cheek. "It's the easiest decision I would have ever made."
"God we are emotional wrecks today aren't we?" Thrjel says with a chuckle.
"Oh you should've seen me a few hours ago, you dimwit." I say as I grab a flask from my pocket, he immediately swoops in and takes it from me.
"Hey! I have rightfully stolen that booze from the cabinet!" I complain.
"Steal from the rich and give to the poor." He says as he takes a swig. "A boozy robin hood."
I chuckle "You guys stole land, the least I can do is steal bread and alcohol right?"
"Touché!"
I chuckle and shake my head. "Did you know that alcohol doesn't help when you are feeling emotional?"
"How do you know? Have you tried it out?" He asks his giggle as if he is transforming into Eliana. I can't help but laugh as I wonder how that would look....
"Well, sure, but that isn't how I know it. It's the simple fact that it is a disinhibitor, so if you are feeling overwhelmingly sad sure the first drink might produce dopamine, but after that you will just start to forget to push your feelings down......."
"I don't know how you can keep track of all that information in your head my darling." He says as he takes another swig.
"Simple, not being a dimwit." I say with a smirk, I look at him and his eyes wander over my face. Earnestly enjoying his view as he imagines what it would be like if I were beautiful, or perhaps he sees something I cannot see. I don't have opinions on what I look like, it's only the memories of what I am told....
"You look so beautiful in the moonlight" He says, arranging a black lock to lie perfectly on my shoulder as he keeps eye contact. "You look so pale under it, like a pearl or something. So perfect, so whole, so unbroken.... As if the world cannot judge you anymore."
I look into his eyes, the blue that I couldn't imagine without him, the admiration I couldn't dream of, the foolishness of somebody who doesn't know the world yet. I feel a tear prickling in my eye and my heart burning in my throat. "I don't know why I get angry...." I say, softly, almost as calm as a lake.
"What?" He says, tilting his head like a puppy and trying to act like drinking half the flask won't be a bad idea in the morning.
"I don't know why I get angry, I don't want to hurt people, I don't want to be explosive. I just.... explode and then I don't know how to fix it afterwards."
"But it isn't bad to be angry sometimes." He says as he leans his head further, making him lopsided enough to make me laugh.
"No I mean it, when it happens I often don't feel angry. I just really want to cry, but I know that it won't do. So I become violent, I become rash, and I hurt people that I am supposed to love. I feel like I am an animal that has been driven into a corner and doesn't know better than to bite."
"Like a fox?" He asks.
I nod. "Like a fox."
"Why is it bad to bite Xad? If people truly know you they can see it wasn't because you were angry or arrogant, but it was because you thought you needed to protect yourself. Who can blame you? You always needed to take care of yourself, you couldn't depend on people to wipe your tears."
"But now I do have people who take care of me, why can't I see that." I ask.
He shrugs "I am the dimwit of us two, so don't ask me, but maybe it's because you still can't believe that life would be this kind?"
I look down and try to find an argument against that. I smile "Maybe I am the dimwit today."
He smiles "Normally I would throw a party for that.... But I don't think I will."
I punch his arm. "Oh come on, you can celebrate a little you oversized broom"
He whispers a small yoohoo as swallow the last remnants from the flask, burning my gums as I swirl it around in my mouth. "Hey xad?"
"Yes Thrjel?" I ask, looking at him with a dry look, wondering why he would say my name in such a dry way.
"I wanted to give you this...." He gives me a notebook, on the front there is a fox howling to a stylised moon burned into the leather binding. "My brother made it, I never had the guts to write in it, I think he would have liked it if someone with the same ideology would write in it."
"I cannot take this Thrjel, it was your brothers it's too much."
He puts it in my hands, "I mean it, remember when you gave me your fathers razor? You had next to nothing, and still you gave it to me. And at least you will have something to do whilst you try to avoid Eliana." He says, I look at the beautiful handmade notebook, it is too much. And at the same time I know that he won't accept it if I say no so I just sigh and thank him.
"This doesn't make me your brother does it?" I ask with a chuckle.
"Oh God no!" He exclaims.
I stand up. "Hey I will leave you to it, my lovely part-time dimwit, I have someone I should apologise to." I say with a smile.
"God you are too mature for me." Thrjel says as he stands up and hugs me, walking back into the warmth of the house.
I shake my head "I wish.... You are quite literally my conscience."
We walk through the halls "I don't think so," He looks at me. "You know when things aren't fair. You might not know how to fix them but you do know how to give words to them. I will never have that." He opens the door to his room, "Welp, this is me I suppose."
I smirk as I want to utter an exclaimation of annoyance but I can only find adoration in my heart. "Thank you for the notebook Thrjel, I will take good care of it."
"At least you will write something intelligent." He says as he closes his door slowly. "Goodnight mopstick."
"Sleep well prince of foolishness." I say as I walk away.

I know on the door of the room I once slept in, the impressions of the doors have changed, they seem higher, as if you could climb them and take too much time. My hand floats in front of it as I try to rehearse the words I say but only emptiness is given to me, I take a deep breath and simply knock on the door. I hardly have anything to lose do I? I hear slow rummaging before the silence returns to the room, I wonder if she has heard it and raise my hand again.
But then the door open slightly, a crack just wide enough for her to show the scone she is carrying and her face, her locks spun of honey on a summers day frames her face nicely as it casts the moody shadows of candlelight.
Her face relaxes and she lowers the sconce. "Oh, it's just you."
My mouth opens slightly wondering what that reaction might mean before I regain my composure. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time Eliana." I say with a smile.
She smiles, her eyes close slightly as she does, her cheeks are strangely full for her dainty figure. "Of course not Xad, do come in!" She says opening the door for me, revealing her long white nightgown trimmed with lace and completed by the perfect silk bow on the front, her bare feet move on the ground as if it is hot or she would be avoiding water. I step into the room, remembering the first summer I spent here, I smile as I look around.
"I must apologize if I look improper, I did not expect any visitors." She jokes, I chuckle and walk towards the open doors, the sheer white curtains dance in the wind like wisps we aren't meant to follow. But they are beautiful, how could we blame anybody.
"I can come back another time if you'd prefer that." I say as I turn around, I expect her to put on a morning robe but she seems rather comfortable as is, darting from one side of the room to the other, mimicking the excitement of a new-born doe.
"This is fine by me Xad, I suppose it is rather private at this time of day, or night. Whatever we might prefer to call it." She smiles again, I must admit that in a way she is charming, cheeky even. In certain ways she isn't stuck up (doesn't mean she isn't in other categories but that is other food for thought).
I look around scouring for a place to sit down, and regretfully only finding the bed and so I decide to simply sit down on it. I notice the stuffed bear that is sitting on the end of the bed and smile, the large satin bow almost obscuring its face.
"My sister used to have one of those." I say with a smile.
"You have a sister?" She asks, finally sitting down on the bed, making sure there is enough distance between us for a fire to start.
"Used to, but yes." I say with a smile, she hands me the bear, I inspect the label and find out it's the same bear. "The one she owned didn't have a bow, and eventually it could hardly keep its head up." I say with a chuckle.
"Memories are wonderful things." She says.
"Do you have siblings?" I ask, looking up realising how bad I am in getting to know people. I just circle them like a wolf till they give me information that I can deduce their personality from.
"No, a sole heir is much better when it comes to money." She says. "Even if it's a girl."
I shake my head "I never thought about that." I put down the stuffed toy and looks at her. "Look Eliana, I didn't come here to talk about these kind of things. I came here to apologise to you. I really do not know what possessed me to say something so horrible about your father."
"But it's true isn't it?" She says, her eyes sharp as knives as they cut through my unsure sincerity.
"Did you know?" I ask.
She shrugs "You don't know these things, but money doesn't just appear, neither does the ice cold silence between your parents..... Look I love my father, but I can see that he might not be a good man." She says, her voice shaking but strangely diplomatic. "You know the version that shows the worst of him, I only know the version that shows the very best. And even his best isn't exactly perfect." She folds his hands into each other. "He is a violent man, even when he loves."
I look at her eyes, the glaze over it is whiter than the moon as she tries to forget everything she shouldn't have known. Her lip trembles and her shoulders are too tense for somebody who only speaks with empathy, this woman has lived it too and I simply forgot. I take a deep breath and put my hand on her.
"It's not your fault that your father is like this, and it's not your fault that you still love him." I say, my breath dangles on a thread that could be broken by wind as I try not to cry. "We are all just kids, and we are all fucked up. All our childhood were difficult, different, but still difficult," I wipe a tear away. "Hell, even confusing in a sense."
She chuckles and shakes her head. "By God we are going to suck as adults."
I stand up, "We really are...."
"I am sorry about what I said too Xad, I will try to change." She says, staring at me like an artist has made me centuries ago.
"Don't bother, people cater to the way you think. It'll help you get far, Eliana, I am certain of that...." And I think I mean it. I walk towards the door.
"Hey xad?"
"Why does everyone keep saying it in that way!" I complain as I turn around. "Yes?"
"Do you know why they changed the mirror in the bathroom?"
I chuckle and shake my head "That's a long story." I look at the scar on my hand and back up. "Goodnight Eliana."
"You look wonderful tonight...." She says and chuckles "Quite exotic to be precise."
I nod politely. "As do you. Now sleep tight."
"I will decide how to sleep on my own."
I roll my eyes as I close the door and sigh, releasing the pressure from my chest. Perhaps I am not such a bad person after all.

The next few days I do as I said. I am cordial, but I don't give her much attention otherwise. I help Sostrate with the chores around the house, I look for tranquillity in the sweltering heat of the summer. And I try to write down thoughts that seem more interesting than the murmurs that bother me like flies attracted by the sweet smells of rotten flesh. I must admit that my handwriting isn't as good as it used to be when it comes to runes, as if my ancestors are punishing me for forgetting part of my language. It bothers me in a strange way, the way that a buzzing mosquito bugs you, simply because you know it will sting you one way or another. These thoughts are something I have tried to avoid, because what if it means I did something wrong. It's easy, ignoring them like I ignore my feelings as I study their movements with such longing that I can almost choreograph them before they even try to make a move. They dance through fields like excited children of the sun, casting their light wherever their bare feet touch, but I will simply stay in the shadow of the veranda, slowly rocking my chair as I suck on the lead of the pencil that'll make my tongue black.
Sostrate puts a tall glass of lemonade on the table next to me, she stares at me, I wonder what she is seeing as I don't break eye contact with the stark blue sky, my brows furrowed in an expression too serious for me, her hand settles down on top of mine and I only now notice that it has been trembling all the time.
"How are you doing Xad?"
"I am sleeping much better now." I lie, my voice unsteady as I tap off the ash on my cigarette. She sits down on the chair next to me and puts her feet up, staring at her son with an expression that I wish I would still know.
"You were never good at lying." She says as she carefully lights a cigar, the smoke makes me sick with memories of people I don't like. It has always make me nauseous, as if the smoke directly enters my stomach, infecting it with the disturbances and sickness of wealth.
My eyes follow the blue butterflies dancing around the wind and I put my cigarette out. "You are the first one that actually notices that." I say with a chuckle.
"How peculiar." She answers as she smiles at me, her eyes speckles in the bright light of summer that we tried to avoid. "So what is really going on in that head of yours?"
I shrug "Too much at the same time." She tilts her head and I finally realise who has taught Thrjel that gesture. "It's strange, I long for unrest, because this tranquillity feels eerie, as if fate is trying to do something when I least expect it." I chuckle and shake my head. "And I know it isn't like that. But life was so much easier when I had something to be angry about, I didn't need to think about the mistakes I had made as I was in a place where the injustice was being done to me. But now it feels like I need to solve something inside of me because I don't have anything or anyone to be angry about. My anger isn't able to be redirected and now I see how disappointed and mad I am with myself. It is bloody terrifying." I say, my breath exhausted from the fragile truth I shouldn't have said.
"What would make it easier?" She asks.
I shrug. "I don't know, probably nothing, because as soon as these months are over and I am going back into the mine I need this anger to survive, I cannot resolve it.... But it is breaking me down. So as much as I hated the bitter teenager I was in school, I need him, I envy him, because he knew who he was, he knew who and what he needed to be. And now I just feel like..... I feel like..... a mistake. I am losing my purpose, I am losing myself, or perhaps I never had one."
"Are you certain that is what you feel?" She asks.
The silence is too long as I wish I could just follow Thrjel into the field and avoid this conversation, I am lightheaded because of the blue smoke that surrounds us and I can't help but pick on the scars on my arms as they get more itchy with the second.
"You don't need to know everything yet Xad, you are hardly an adult." She says and I can't help but scoff.
"I haven't been a child or teenager since I was twelve." I say.
"Perhaps that is why it so difficult for you." She smiles and with that reason I must agree, I smile and pick up the glass of lemonade, it is refreshingly cold and to sour, it prickles my throat in a way hunger does too. I swallow the liquid, and my saliva, I swallow everything I want to think about and close my eyes, the darkness behind it looks orange because of the sun that warms it and the laughs of happiness make my solace in loneliness and violence seem even more unusual.
"I have these unusual dreams." My voice utters, whilst my mind is still elsewhere, she looks at me intentely as if she knows what I am going to say. "They're hard to follow really, but death seems to tie them together. They feel too real, they feel too much like memories, and I know half of them really are memories. All of them tell me the same thing."
She looks at me. "What do they tell you?"
"That I wasn't born right." I take a long sip of the lemonade and cross my legs, frowning as I try my best not to remember the dream where everyone stared at me as the nun forced me into the cold water of the river.
"Did people ever tell you that?" she asks.
I chuckle "It would be a lie to say no."
She smiles. "Because you had a cleft lip?" She asks.
I shake my head, "Not only that, I mean Awnlunds already had their truths ready, but I remember how much my grandmother hated me for not being..... made the right way." I fold my hands over my legs and look down. "How terribly cruel, people hated me from the moment I was born for things I could not control. And not only outsiders, my family, my people, the people I loved. It is so strange how easy they do it isn't it?" I wipe a tear from my eye. "I never understood I wasn't normal."
She tilts her head. "What is different about you Xad?"
I smile, how sweetly naïve, if my family hated me for these mistakes I didn't make even the best friend or mother of the friend would hate me, I would rather set myself on fire than tell anyone how strange my body is, how strange my mind is, how easily I would be to hate. I stand up. "I never really figured that out." I say with a smile as I walk off of the veranda into the shadows of the nearby trees, leaving the happiness of summer behind me for the silence of the woods echoing the screams of my mind.

I walk towards the tree, looking at its red ribbons still tied to it's daintily strong branches. The hum of the wind describes a hymn I forgot the words to, but I am not quite certain if the words were even kind. It always puzzled me, why anyone would utter a word of hatred in a house of God, wouldn't judgement be the gravest of sin when a religion is tied to the kindness and humanity of others. I take a breath, I still think I believe, I don't think I would survive without someone to blame, someone to hope for, someone to believe in and someone to lose faith in. But the church, how it puzzles me, a whole group of people that should have been the best of all of them seem to have fallen into a lake of sin they themselves do not recognise, the poverty reigning outside of their buildings as the gold seems too bountiful within. The judgement from one person spreading to another. We needed them, and that is when they disappeared, the sanctuaries that could have saved my soul from this dark cloud of anger, of doubt, of uncertainty. Or maybe I am just trying to find someone to blame, and I will be happy if someone presents itself.
Because after all, anyone but me.