Page 42 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
“What do you want me to say, Ninann?”
A fire built in Apattar’s eyes, rage burning in her chest. Whatever she saw and whoever that heinous memory belonged to, she did not wish to know more. She wanted to forget it all and hide from the world, run away to the ruins of Andeshar where no one would find her. It was all too much, too much to keep bottled up inside, yet impossible to share with the only friends she had. The shadows were her burden to bear alone. She would go mad, like Therat.
“The truth, is that so hard?” Tears welled up in Ninann’s eyes, large saucers cracking with pain. “It’s your voice again, isn’t it?”
A thin gasp escaped Apattar’s lips. She frowned, weighing if she should feign ignorance. After what felt like minutes, she spoke with a cool tone, surveying Ninann for the slightest reaction.
“What do you know about that?”
Ninann looked away and swallowed, the sound like deafening thunder breaking the silence. She turned back, a single tear crawling down her perfect face.
“Remember when we were little girls and you would sometimes sleep in my bed when Papa left? You talked in your sleep. Most of it never made sense, broken fragments of sentences. But always you would ask if the voice would help, if she would take you away. I was too little at the time, I didn’t know what you meant. But the older we’ve gotten, the more I see. Even if you wish to hide it from me.”
Apattar stiffened, denial thick on her tongue.
“You promised you would return to me. Said you would not lose yourself when you went West seeking answers to a question you never deigned to share. But you… This is not the sister I love. You are so angry, so conflicted. You think this voice is a guardian, but I’m not so sure. What could you possibly have learned to taint even your love for me?”
Apattar wanted to reach out and grab her sister’s hand, but her arm refused to move. She stood there stiff as a tree, not ready to divulge her secrets to the woman she once trusted with everything. Nothing felt the same since she left Av Madhira.
“Inann, I… I don’t know how to tell you. What to tell you. I am not sure I believe it myself. But this world, there is so much pain and suffering. So many innocent lives ended out of fear and hatred. These shadows fester the longer they are left ignored. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Ninann shook her head, tears spilling from her watery eyes. “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me! Maybe one day you’ll understand.” Ninann turned back to the wide double doors. "I think it is best if I leave now.” She paused for a moment before pushing the doors open, leaving with a loud sigh.
Indecision paralyzed Apattar. She should be upset, should go running after Ninann and share the burdens eating her alive. But her mind told her of a thousand ways it would end in tragedy, rejection and misery wrought by her hand. Apattar knew she must let Ninann go. Any claims to her sister and thehappiness they once shared was only ever a dream, even when it felt real.
One more month. That’s what I’ll do. One more month of delusion before I slip away. It will be better this way.
Twisting a tiny braid over her fingers, Apattar lay down on the lumpy pad that passed for a bed on the ship. Straw and broken feathers poked through the scratchy sheets, hundreds of little daggers ready to slice her back. Images of the strange vision flashed by. It evoked terror so deep she wanted to run away.
When would the running stop? She was so tired, so very tired.
The sound of menshouting woke Apattar, cacophony leaking through a door opened and quickly shut. A strange sensation filled her body, a fire in her belly and a spark of crackling energy dancing across her skin. Only in sleep did some semblance of happiness find her aching heart. Apattar sighed, chest heavy over yet another fleeting dream gone too soon.
The floorboards creaked and groaned under Ninann’s soft footsteps. The rose and coconut oils massaged into her long black curls always gave the woman away.
“Atta? Are you well?” Concern tinged her words. “I-I am sorry. It was not my place to demand an explanation.” A warm hand caressed Apattar’s shoulder. “I forget sometimes, it seems.” She paused for a long moment. “Your birth never mattered to me, so I chose to forget it, pretend it didn’t change anything.”
Apattar pushed herself up from the lumpy bed. Ninann knelt on the floor beside it, wringing her hands and chewing on the corner of her mouth. Apattar tucked a curl behind her twin’s ear, fingertips caressing her plump cheek. A smile flashed by—weak, but enough to make the edges of Ninann’s lips quiver. She stood, leveling soft blue-green eyes with Apattar’s.
“I know, my little dove,” Apattar said with a sigh. “You always saw me, and only me. But we can’t pretend nothing is different between us. I wish I could tell you everything, I do! But I could not burden your heart with my life. This is mine to do alone. Maybe… maybe it is even fate, one might say.”
Apattar laughed pathetically. It tried—and failed—to diffuse the stale air hanging between the sisters.
“I always hated riddles, you know. It seems you’ve become an expert in speaking with them.” The words lacked Ninann’s usual warmth. Apattar thought she heard a quiet sob escape her sister’s lips. “You talk as if one of the Goddesses has chosen you themself. Remember when you saidIwas delusional for seeking to serve Myrniar? You told me the Seven were dead, and the world better that way. You are free now, my dove, your cage opened! Why do you chain yourself so? You can come with me, we can be together and happy. I need not return to Av Madh—”
“It isn’t so simple, Inann,” Apattar replied. “What you offer is not a gift, but a slow death, stripping away everything until I am left an empty shell. My head is filled with the screams of innocent babes slaughtered in the night. I can’t, I can’t anymore! I don’t know what to do! The dark sun did not curse me, I see this now. It’s like this moment has been building for years, an inevitable conclusion to a war started long ago. The world will watch as I reclaim it from the hands that betrayed me!”
The words spilled from Apattar’s lips. She wanted to swallow them as they formed on her tongue, but they were not hers to command. The whispering voice returned, its anger anintoxicating drug pulling her into a shadowy cocoon. Shards of ice and liquid fire seared her left palm. A woman’s shrill laugh and piercing blue eyes flashed across her vision.
Ninann stiffened, arms shaking as muffled sobs filled the air. Apattar wanted to pull her twin in close and comfort the poor thing. Ninann never deserved a day with heartbreak or pain.
Apattar could feel the void lashing out, threads of Shadow-weave suffocating the radiant woman until her soul remained but a dim spark in the coming night. Shades lunged at Ninann, circling ever closer.
This will be her fate if she stays by your side. This one is not for you. The new dawn is always weakest. You must leave, child, or you will consume her. She is not yours to save.
The ravenous shades disappeared. Amber light once again filled the small room. A wave crashed against the ship. Apattar stumbled, one bony shoulder colliding with Ninann’s chin and sending the maiden tumbling to the floor. Ninann huffed, ignoring her sister’s hand and using a barrel to pull herself up.
“Wha—come now! It was an accident, Ninann! I would never try to hurt you!” Ninann’s rejection stung more than Apattar thought it would.
