Page 17 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
Mireithren. Did she awaken the evil inside of him?
Therat glowered in the house for hours, stewing in his thoughts. The bubbling anger turned into black rage, hateful of everything in his life. For years, Therat made it his sole purpose to protect his brother. The Boy and his Cub, Man and Cougar. It had been the two of them for so long, clinging to each otherfor support as they navigated the world without the love and protection of their parents.
Adon’s rejection of Therat stung, like a hundred tiny slices across his already ruined and scarred heart. It surprised him how much it hurt. Therat knew he could never claim Adon forever, so why did he care so much now? Perhaps he should leave the city now, rip the bandage off the festering wound.
Therat laughed. If he left the oasis, it would mean accepting never coming back. He would let the Shadow-weave take over, let the voices of a thousand dead and a thousand more ruin his mind until he exploded, every thought he ever had burnt from the world. The notion comforted him, soothing the razor-sharp edges of rage cutting into his soul.
Creamy oranges and pinksdanced across the sky when Therat finally roused himself. With a groan, he stretched muscles aching from sitting for so long. He meant to leave the city before Adon returned, unable to bear telling his twin goodbye in person. He would ache for a while, but Therat thought it better than watching the shadows claim him. Best to preserve what happy memories the two had.
Therat rifled through a chest in his shared bedroom, looking for a crumpled and ripped parchment buried under the few things precious to him in life. A whittling knife from his father and two half-finished foxes. Art books from his mother filled with her sketches of the far-away places she’d visited as a young woman. A scarf of hers, the faint scent of coconut and vanilla still clinging to the faded fabric, once bright silver and blue. Painfulreminders of the past but precious beyond compare. Therat sniffed, trying to hold back the tears building behind his eyes.
He found the treasure he sought at last, holding it with shaking hands. The scar across his chest burned and ached, his heart bucking with anxiety. Forcing down the saliva pooling in his mouth, Therat smoothed the parchment, revealing a long letter written in a precise, tiny hand. He tried to avoid reading the words too closely, remembering all too well what the letter contained.
Though written nearly three years ago, little of Therat’s feelings had changed. It would explain everything to his brother and help provide some closure and understanding about what the man had become.
The world became a dream, Therat floating from place to place with only passing recognition of what happened. He felt oddly peaceful, the black rage from before gone, as if someone had emptied the man of his inner turmoil.
Hollow. Numb.
It felt good not to struggle. Leaving the note on the mantle, Therat’s feet carried him out of the house, down a sandy path, over hard rock until the white jackal statues loomed large. Therat paused at the Eyes of Vanyaseá, looking back on the oasis city one last time. Once up the narrow cliff stairway and on the lower plateau outside Av Madhira, the last of his mind slipped into the void.
He inhaled until his lungs felt like they would burst, the cool evening air engulfing him from the inside. The music of the Shadow-weave reached out, calling to him with the sounds he knew so well. He let it flow over his mind, losing all other thoughts and only focusing on the music of shadows. A cold, heavy presence settled over his skin, sending a wave of shivers across his rippling muscles. Dark shadows formed around theman. Threads of inky black darkness crawled up his legs, tendrils weaving in and out of his loose pants.
The Shadow-weave swimming through his body and mind left no room for thoughts of his own. Skin stretched tight as the shadows wove themselves with muscle and bone. Each breath brought with it the taste of ash and something sweet, a faint afterthought. The whispers in his mind coalesced together into an ancient and lost language, the sounds familiar but foreign at the same time. With a final breath, Therat opened his eyes.
A black veil clouded his vision, the world dark and dim through the haze. Shadowy tendrils so black they seemed to devour the light swam across his vision before plunging him into a deep, unending void. It sank through every cell and fiber of his being until something shifted. A second melody nestled within his soulsong roared to life. The shadows awakened, already clawing to take control, pulling and warping everything creating the man.
Drawn east to the home of the Sun, he slowly lost himself to the Shadow-weave, letting it take over his thoughts until Therat forgot even his name.
nine
Discord
“I’m going to killhim, Inann! It’s not even a threat, it’s a promise.”
Apattar swung at the air in front of her, beating her fists against an imaginary opponent in a fit of rage. Long black braids flew around her in a frenzy, azure blue beads slapping against her back. Danger lurked in those muddy brown eyes.
Within, the void thrummed to life, tendrils of black Shadow-weave looping themselves around her heart. The shadowy whispers began, calling for decay and ruin, growing quickly to a deafening roar. The scars across her right cheek burned as the blood rushed into her head, the two scabs throbbing with anger. The words her father so cruelly said earlier that morning played on repeat in her head.
I never wanted you to live, Apattar. I begged your mother for days to let me end your life. I never wanted you to live. I never wanted you. I never wanted you.
A thin line of crimson blood from her nose cut like a river through rich wet clay, tracing the soft curves of Apattar’s round face before falling to the golden sands below. She wiped the blood away with a brusque jerk of her hand, smearing it like a badge of honor.
“I will show him death if he wishes to see it!” Apattar shouted, fists trembling with rage at her side.
“Atta!” Ninann shot out, eyes wide with concern. “No matter what hurt you bear, he is still our father! You speak nonsense, you are bitter. It will cool.”
“No, he isyourfather, Inann. I am his eternal regret.”
Apattar turned to face Ninann, paused for a moment by her stunning radiance. Red and yellow silks cascaded down from around her throat, hugging thick curves under draped thin chains of gold. The simple white veil falling over her loose black curls seemed to glimmer in the morning light. She was so beautifully perfect, so blissfully unaware of how much hate the world bore for her beloved twin.
“You didn’t hear what he told me this morning, what… what my life means to him. The nights I spend under…” Apattar paused as a shadow fell over her face, the words falling to ash in her mouth. “I am worth nothing, a smear on your otherwiseperfect life. He would shackle me like an animal if Mother let him, or worse.”
A wave of nausea flooded over Apattar, the ever-present invisible hands tightening their grip around her neck, squeezing the air from her lungs. She collapsed on the ground, too dejected to even find the energy to control her emotions. Her exhaustion ran deep. If Apattar did not act soon, she would shatter under the torture exacted by her father’s hands.
“You are always worth something to me, my dove.” Ninann’s words helped ease the rage. “From the moment you were born, I have never felt like I belong with anyone but you. I do not care what stars and curses say. Papa is a good man, but he is scared and superstitious. Following his heart, trying to… to, well. You know better than I.” Ninann sat and pulled Apattar to her chest, untangling her twin’s small braids with a gentle touch.
The two sisters sat on the sandy garden path in silence, only the occasional muffled sob from Apattar breaking the still morning. Apattar sank into Ninann’s arms.
