Underestimate Me

She circled him like a vulture, trying to pick at the old wounds of memories. The slight breeze floating caused his skin to prickle as she ventured out of his line of sight, but her voice—a once lilting voice that made his world brighter—held the whip that lashed out at each of the demons he held at bay. She spoke of his unneeded symbolism of her rebirth, and he could not help listening to her words as her voice fell into a familiar cadence. He wondered if she realized how much she sounded like she was repeating a children’s story.

“My sisters needed a monster, so I became one.” Her face changed as she said those words. She circled out of his line of sight once again before he felt heat raidiating from her fingertips. He tried to control the shivers, the demons, but he couldn’t. His body reacted to the heat of her just as it had. Before Rowen had the chance to respond she turned away from him. Left him their bearing his scars for all the world to see. What happened to her?

Little Merek ran when the yelling started. It was one of those rare occasions when Rowen disappointed his father, and Merek could never stand seeing the fight that always ensued when Elrik started yelling at his oldest son. The youngest son sniffled before wiping his nose on his sleeve. Rowen wasn’t far behind his brother after Elrik left him with the latest of his bruises.

“Hi little one,” she cooed. Merek hid his eyes, not wanting her to see the tears. “Are you alright?” He answered by shaking his head. “Would a story make you feel better?”

Rowen knew that girl would never return to him. She was lost to whatever controlled her body. He noticed the curiosity in her eyes, but he did not want to see it sated. If she got her answers it would only make this insanity worse.

His body tensed under the soft touch of someone who had not made their selves known. He hoped it was just Laila, returning from her orders, but he couldn’t be sure. Each scar the fingers traced caused pain to rock his body, his mind. The tension in his body caused a deep ache in his shoulders. Why couldn’t he just be left alone?

“How did you get these scars?” Laila’s voice washed over him like cool rain. It relaxed his shoulders, but his memories fought to break free.

“I don’t remember,” he lied. Laila sighed before she untied his hands from the pole and handed him a leather garment similar to the ones the women wore. He cringed as she lifted his right arm to put through the sleeve.

“How can you not remember getting that many scars on one area of your body?” Laila brushed them again before she pulled the back of the shirt down. It was a little too tight fitting, but it felt more comfortable on his skin than the tarnish fabric she took from him. “Whoever looked after the wounds must have done well. They healed nicely; the small nicks are almost unnoticeable.”

His breath came in deep gulps. The whip might have stung his skin for a moment, but the raw wounds burned with a vengeance as he was shoved back into his cell. Elrik ordered one more night spent in his solitude. The door squeaked open about half an hour after Rowen was thrown back into the darkness.

Merek’s blonde hair was the first thing Rowen spotted because his brother would not meet his eyes. Instead the boy came into the room staring at the pail of water he snuck into the cell. He sat beside Rowen before pulling a damp cloth from the bucket and wiping the blood away. The eldest brother tried to hide his pain from the younger brother, but Merek saw how Rowen’s shoulders tensed and arched as he smeared the blood lingering on the wounds.

“I’m fine,” Rowen promised as he glanced at Merek’s worried blue eyes. There was a hint of an emotion that Rowen rarely saw in his brother’s eyes, hidden deep within the confines of the specks of green. Merek shook his head.

“This is bad!” His voice held anger while his eyes looked as if he’d stolen something dear to his older brother. “People are saying a lot of terrible things.”

“None of that matters, Brother!” Rowen hissed. “I will prove them wrong.” His gaze bore into Merek. “I’m sorry, little brother,” Rowen whispered.

“Sorry for what?” Laila asked before she fashioned the ropes in front of him around his wrists. Had he spoken? Did the demons rise too far to the surface this time? Rowen cringed as he shook his head.

Evelyn came for him. She took the chain connected to the manacle and pulled him forward until he found himself surrounded by Meredith, Josselyn, and the innocent little girl, Emma.

“Evelyn knows enough medicine to help with him, and he seems to trust her. Emma can use this as a learning experience. She’s still naive.” Josselyn explained. Rowen couldn’t bring himself to meet Emma’s gaze. He made himself follow the women to Ruth’s hideaway; he climbed atop the dusty, old donkey that brought him to this oasis, and he followed them in silence with Evelyn on one side and Emma on the other.

Rowen’s thoughts filled in the droning sounds of the hooves clumping against the hard dirt and the soft neighing of the animals. He wanted to scream the deafening silence away, but he couldn’t. No matter what Rowen did, he could not shake the demons off this time. Laila’s fingers awoken something that he shoved deep down.

He lost track of time when Evelyn stopped his animal. She met his gaze only for a moment before her face seemed to soften. He didn’t like the pity in her eyes; pity wasn’t something he wanted. It was something he fought against every day before he left the village, obviously the fight never ended.

“Sister Josselyn thinks we need to take a break. We have been traveling for nearly an hour, maybe an hour and a half.” Evelyn’s tone was even as she climbed off her horse and pulled him off the donkey.

Water moved and ebbed against the shore she led him to. Emma already propped on a rock big enough to hold one comfortably while Josselyn stood next to Meredith. Their shoulders touched as they whispered, but Rowen could see the sneer on both women’s lips. He sat at the base of Emma’s rock, still not meeting her gaze. The sound of ripping bread echoed above his head, causing his stomach to churn.

“Should we feed him?” Emma whispered to Evelyn. Rowen had to physically stop from scoffing in front of her. He wasn’t a dog that needed caring for.

“You should eat,” Evelyn spoke directly to him. “Here…” she passed a slice of bread to him.

Rowen shook his head. “No.” His nose crinkled as the smell of slightly burnt yeast filled his nostrils. Josselyn neared them, taking some of the bread for herself and Meredith.

“He won’t eat,” Emma stated. She sounded like a child tattling on her sibling. Rowen couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Josselyn bent down until he was forced to look directly into her eyes filled with anger and something he didn’t quite recognize. “You will not starve or die of fever until I say so!"

“What right have you to say whether I starve or burn?” Rowen turned away from the bread again.

“You want to be known as the man that died such cowardly death.” Meredith’s smirk filled Rowen with hatred. He snatched the bread offered to him and took a hasty bite. She would not get the best of him, even if he did kill himself to prove it.