PROLOGUE
What… what is this?
The midwife stared at the newborn twins with a mixture of fascination and horror. In the background the maids were wailing for the loss of the mother, but she could not tear her eyes away from these children. The silver hair that connected them, the dark markings on their legs and arms. These children… were not normal humans. She knew that for certain. The midwife reached down to touch the hair of one of the infants. Immediately upon her fingers brushing the soft strands, the child began to cry. His voice woke his twin, and two pitiful wails rang through the birthing chamber.
One of the children opened his eyes, and their clear gaze shot through her like an arrow. The newborn's cry was cutting into her as an almost physical pain. The father will kill them, she realized. It couldn't be any other way. These children who were so obviously blessed or cursed, out of the fear that all men hold for the unknown, would not be allowed to live.
Almost unaware of her own actions, the midwife took up the knife that had been used to cut the umbilical cords. Forgive me, little ones. She held the blade with a practiced hand, and it hovered over the silver connection between the newborn twins. They gurgled, and she closed her eyes. Forgive me!
()()()
Eighteen years later…
"Grandma, I'm leaving."
The old woman harrumphed. "Make sure you close the door properly this time."
The young man laughed, a joyful sound that would attract anyone who heard it. He wrapped a cloak around his shoulders, pulling it over his eye-catching blue locks. "Alright. I'll see you tonight!" The sound of the door closing was the same as always, but when she looked back on that day, it would echo in the woman's mind. She would find herself falling into the inescapable cycle of if only.
If only she had told him the truth.
If only she hadn't let him go out alone.
If only she had acted sooner…
But at that time, she only chuckled at his youthful exuberance and rocked in her chair, wrinkled hands smoothing the mending that she held on her lap. Her faded yellow skirt caught the sunlight that came through the windows of the small but comfortable house, and she began waiting for evening, when he would come home again.
[DRAMAtical Secret]
START
