A Secret Best Kept

Faydrin walked over to his sister. Bess was his counterpart. To look at them, you would see no resemblance. Faydrin's blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin in contrast to Bess' dark hair, dark hair, and dark skin. Faydrin relied on his mind and wit where she on her brute strengths and cunning. They were twins and were born of the same mother and father. The people of Shimmer believed twins to be a curse, rather than a blessing. It was said that a woman was most vulnerable in early pregnancy. That in some cases a semen would enter the womb, and try to steal the child's soul. If the demon succeeded, the pregnancy would end in a tragic miscarriage. If the demon failed, the soul of the child would split, causing two individual children. Many mothers would even kill the child that fussed, or cried more; fearing that part of a demon might still reside in the child. As Faydrin reached his sisters side, he moved his hand in a dramatic gesture. Slowly, the entrance to the room sealed itself. Bess had seen him seal off the entrance many times. Never with knarles so close. Usually, enough time would pass, and any remants of magic would have faded long before the magic sniffing hounds could detect them. "I hate when you do that." She muttered. Faydrin just smiled. He knew his sister worried not just for her safety, but his. The scars that bound them, blood, body, and soul caused each to worry more about the other than normal siblings. "It is no more than I worry each time you hunt." Was his only reply. This conversation had been played out many times before. She would rebuttal that she was a skilled hunter, and he would in turn, argue about the possible animal attacks, traps, or other hunters. But now was not the time to argue, so she only sighed. "Lord Byron has been awake then?" She inquired. In her haste to tell Faydrin what she had seen, she had only had a small glance of the king falling back into slumber. "Yes, he was awake only for a moment. He seemed confused, not sure of himself. This worries me." Faydrin sat back in his chair, while Bess took up residence in the other. "Was he not to regain his memory upon manhood?" She asked. "Yes." Came the saddened reply. "Some things have gone wrong. I can feel it." The look on his face told Bess he was truly worried. "Well," she said as she rose from the chair, and began walking over to Logan's bed. "It would certainly look as if he reached manhood." "Bess!" Faydrin chided. "He is your king. Let not your eyes betray you least he awaken and see you." Bess threw him a disgusted look. "As if I would think him anything but my king, dear brother." Scanning the room, she decided to voice the concern she had had when they found the unconscious traveler. "Who do you think they are?" Faydrin shook his head. "I have no clues yet. I hope they awaken soon." They had found the four travelers on the road not far from the passage. Each touching the triscone lightly. The marking clearly read passage for queen and king earth to shimmer. Triscones have been outlawed since the reign of the Baron Black. Triscones had not been the only thing, anything and everything that had to do with magic had been outlawed. The decree had come about six perrels ago. Exactly one year, to the day, that Lord Byron should have regained his memory. Faydrin, sitting in his chair, began to wonder if somehow that had not affected the magic users sent to earth as well. Just as he was about to voice this query, to Bess, the knarles cry could be heard. "Three tonks away, I would say." Bess said as she crouched lower, and closer to the door. She had no fear of knarles as she had no magic ability. The half razorback, half wild coyote, looking beast could only sense magic. They wouldn't know that she even existed. Bess had seen more than one knarle these past six years. Once, she even tried to explain one to Faydrin. "They are as tall as a wild dog. covered in fur, and have padded feet. They have the head of a wild boar. Piggish snout, sharp teeth, tusks, and beady red eyes. Razor ridges, protruding down the length of its spine. Ending with a tail that is small and wiry like a pig." Faydrin had shuddered at the image his sisters words had given him. Now, he stood and walked to the furthest part of the room. The further the better. He did not believe his wards would be broken by a simple knarle, but why take the chance? Bess could hear the muffled of the knarle trainers. She so feared for her brother. It had been said that if by chance, a magic user lived through an attack from a knarle, they were taken to the lowest dungeon and tortured until they begged for the mercy of death. She knew that her will to live would flow into her brother. He would suffer more than most. She silently cursed the scars that bound them. They had been about eight terrels old when this revelation had come upon them. Faydrin had been inside with his mother and father, while Bess had set herself to climbing the tallest tree she could find. Even back then their differences were very clear. Faydrin had begun screaming for what seemed no apparent reason. Clutching his left arm, and falling to the floor. His arm had been broken. As his father carried him into their sleeping room, Bess staggered in. She was holding her left arm lightly. Fear had shown in their mothers eyes that night as Bess regalled them with the tale of falling from the tree, yet somehow she hadn't felt much pain. It seemed that part of her pain had transferred to Faydrin, for indeed he shared a broken arm. Ever since that day, when one felt pain, so did the other. It was a safe bet that death would be the same. They had never spoken of these times to anyone outside their family. Such a connection would certainly have its consequences. © D.RipkaCartwright Typed by: Alicia Moser during a phone conversation with the author D. Ripka-Cartwright, May 2, 2oo5.