Far From Never

“What’s wrong miss?” Alise, my lady’s maid asks as she brushes my wet tendrils of hair.

“Everything” I murmur in response.

“What’s that miss?” she stopped brushing and looked at my eyes in the mirror.

“Nothing, just a touch stressed and nervous for tonight” I say in regards to the ball. I look at the reflection of my dress in the mirror. It is long, pale with iridescent skirts that flow as I walk making it look as if I’m floating.

“Well I would be too with those stories I’ve heard about that, oh what’s that they call him?” she pauses as she racks her brain, “Victor the Vicious! That’s it!”

My breath freezes in my throat and I panic a little, the air not being able to make it to my lungs. ‘Breathe’ I tell myself and force my mouth to open and my throat to unfreeze.

“The tales I’ve heard of him in battle, so big and mean, killing everything in his path” Alise continues, “Why I once heard that he killed all the horses in his regiment because they were to afraid to run into a field set on fire. He even killed his own horse! And then he made his soldiers continue on foot through the fiery field!”

What little color that was in my face fades. Fear starts to grow in my stomach and slowly rises through my throat. “Excuse me” I say and leap up from the stool and dive for the bathroom.

I make it to the toilette just in time and wretch the lid open. I dry heave for a few moments, my empty stomach not helping the whole throwing up process. When I’m satisfied that nothing more is going to rise from my stomach I leave the bathroom.

As I walk out the door, I almost run into what looks like a floating glass of water. Once I take a step back and look around I notice that the glass of water is being held onto by a hand. My brother’s hand to be exact.

“He’s not as bad as those stories make him out to be. Just like the stories about my intelligence, the stories about his strength and meanness are exaggerated to intimidate.” My brother Izaiah tries to reassure me.

“And how do you know?” I question taking the glass of water from his hand and drinking.

“Because I’ve met him in battle and, although he is strong and he does have superb skill, he held to all rules of battle.”
“You met him in battle?!” I squeak barely swallowing my drink.

“And I have the scars to prove it” he pulls his collar aside and reveals his shoulder. On the very top I can see a strange shaped scar raised above the rest of his smooth skin.

“Why is it so strange?” I ask. I’ve seen a lot of cuts and scars in my short life. My father never allowed me to learn how to use any weapons of war so I learned the only weapon I could; herbs and healing.

“Prince Victor uses two swords, both with a curved blade. But his swords fit together like puzzle pieces.”

“I don’t understand,” I state as he finishes.

“His swords, when put together look like one sword with a curved line going through the middle, like this” he swings his arm in a large, almost crescent shape.

“I can see it now” I finally understand. I take my seat back on the vanity stool so Alise can finish my hair.

“And at the top of his blades is a design, a very beautiful design that fits together like a puzzle as well” he explains the strange patterned scar.

“Why have I never seen a scar like this before then?”

“Because most people who have been unlucky enough to have their flesh make contact with these swords never make contact with anything again,” he explains in a low tone.

“You mean?” I ask, dread covering my face.

“I mean,” he confirms.

I jump up from the stool once again, this time Alise pulls my hair on accident. I don’t even notice as I wrap my hands around Izaiah’s neck. “I’m going to miss you!”
“Come on, it’s not like we’re not going to see each other” he unwraps my death grip from around his neck, “I am marrying his sister too remember?”

I sigh and nod my head as I turn around and return to my stool. Alise grabs my shoulders and pushes them down, forcing me to sit. I smile slightly because I know she is annoyed that I keep messing up my hair just as she gets started.