Luxuria
What do your eyes hold for me, Caim? What is it that you see when you look at me? Can you mirror my thoughts? Can you mirror my heart?
A single action always opened a great number of pathways. These pathways had potential to cross with others of similarity. These pathways had potential to destroy possible outcomes. Furiae had wondered for ten years of her life what consequences would arise if she had taken particular actions as opposed to others.
She stood at a table, one delicate hand resting her fingertips upon the surface; the other lifted and placed against her clavicle. Her brown eyebrows furrowed and she inclined her head. In the name of all things holy, how had she found herself in this position? Had she willingly volunteered to become the Goddess of the Seal? No… She could not remember lending that part of herself. Of course, she didn't want the world to fall into chaos, so a part of her may have understood her ability to be so compassionate toward the living. It placed her into a role where she did not wish to be, however. There were certain things expected of a goddess.
In my position, have… I only complicated things for you, Caim? Is… Is that what this world is saying to me? Do I deserve to be here after what has happened? Do I deserve to be placed into this predicament?
Furiae believed he would say the opposite. Well, that was in the particular case that he could speak. His actions at the beginning of the war against the Empire told her more things than his colloquial speech ever could have. For the benefit of protecting her, for the benefit of his life, he offered his voice to a creature that he held an extreme dislike for.
Dislike. That was what she defined it as, knowing fully well that Caim's actions gestured down the pathway of absolute hatred. She was aware, though, that while any average person would look at him and jump to a copious amount of assumptions, perhaps only she truly knew what was going on in Caim's head. Oh, and his dragon, the pink… red creature that suddenly became his translator.
"Oh, Caim…" she spoke softly to herself. She fingered the nearest implement to her hand, bringing her fingertips over the handle as her eyes rested upon the small blade. It was nothing more than a mere paring knife, it seemed, and yet a strange sense of power scaled her arm and found its home in her shoulder.
What could she do with this, though? Surely it wouldn't inflict much damage unless she was to thrust it into someone's eye. That would require some skill, however, and likely not the type of skill she had. When she really thought about it, she didn't have much of any trait that could be considered a talent. She spent a lot of her free time reading, and now that she was in this situation, she wandered, often living out her days in a dreamland.
Her brother was there, of course. She would imagine the way the world lit up when his lips would curl into a smile. It was so uncommon for her to see that. After his pact with the dragon, the only time she'd seen his smile was when it seemed more like a sneer than genuine prosperity. It was not to claim that she disliked this Caim more than the one she dreamt about. She loved Caim no matter how he may have become. There was naught in the world that would change that.
It was something she had read before: a love so strong that not even the hands of fate could draw it away. Nothing could pull it apart. That was the sort of love she held for him.
"With love," she continued her thoughts aloud, "comes guilt."
Her head lifted and she turned, so her lower back would use the table's edge as support, "Is it the price I pay for love? Compassion rules me. It rules me and renders me helpless to my situations. It gnaws at me with small teeth as though to… To simply take from me my very soul. My punishment from the gods."
She heard the approaching footsteps. They were hasty, and it took little thought for her to realize that they were in search of something. It was likely that 'something' should have been defined as her. And those hasty footsteps likely belonged to her brother.
Her attention was fully turned onto him when he sprinted into the banquet room. As her eyes rested upon his, she took note of the painfully obvious relief painted across his expression. Even without words, he sometimes became like a book, one that held a different cover every time she saw him.
When he lifted his hand, she shook her head, "No. I wasn't hurt." What else could she say? Even if she had fallen into detriment somewhere along the way, she likely wouldn't have told him.
He began to step towards her and lowered his sword to his side. It was the same blade that Furiae had remembered for years. Had it been passed down to him? She could hardly remember their parents aside from faces and titles. The only thing she kept dear in her mind were the memories that she held when she grew up with Caim and Inuart.
Inuart. That guilt began to settle in again. She was well aware of how he felt for her. It was like a song that she heard constantly. Inuart had loved her. Inuart had wanted to save her from her restraints. Inuart had wanted to take her burden for his own. He'd wanted to bring her happiness, to set her free, like liberating a bird from a cage. He'd wanted to give all of himself to her, and had wanted for her to do the same for him.
She couldn't. It was not as though her eyes had not passed over him. Furiae had given him a glance, a scarce one at that, and found her feelings rested elsewhere. She had no intentions of settling down, of ever having a family, and those were things she knew Inuart wanted from her. She couldn't offer that, however. Her position forbade that. She was a Goddess of the Seal, and that meant there were things she couldn't do. Being the Goddess of the Seal, while at times a curse, she took with great pride. Not all women of purity and chaste thoughts were given this privilege. Because she was thought of so highly, she felt it was for the best of all that she should act becoming and proper.
That did not, however, deter her thoughts of her brother. It was something that often plagued her. Thoughts of his handsome visage. Dreams of how his voice used to sound, a tone that was quickly beginning to fade from her memories. Admiring the way his hair fell into his blue eyes, so deep like the ocean that she had played near when she was young. He was a man that built up her nostalgia like a never-ending turret and as she scaled to reach the top, it would constantly grow. She could never find the true heart of her brother. She knew not where it lied.
Suppose he learned of her fascination for him. How would he react? Would he turn her away? Would he disown her? Would he be overcome with hatred for her as well? Would she become no better than the Empire that he was so determined to destroy? Would… he even dare to lift his sword and pierce her heart? The thought was absolutely frightening and when she began to think on such things, Furiae began to question her own sanity.
"Are you all right? You are not hurt?" she asked imploringly with a tilt of the head.
He nodded to her solemnly, his gaze reading only sincere thoughts. He would never allow anything to happen to him. If he suddenly fell then she would no longer have anyone to protect her. Furiae would be vulnerable to the evils of the world. Caim found it his responsibility to guard her at all costs, even at the one of his life.
It was these things and others of the like, that his sister could so easily withdraw from him. Caim spoke not only with his expressions, but with his body language, and with his eyes. They were indeed windows, but only those deemed worthy were allowed to take note of this. Someone who had simply met him for the first time would never be able to understand this or take advantage of it. It required a companion to be around him for a great deal of time before they made this discovery.
The surprise was evident when her brother extended a hand, took her by the wrist and pulled him into her arms. The chill of his metal armour reached through her dress of perfect white and invoked a series of flutters to navigate by way of her veins. How impure she thought of herself in that moment, that she was acquiring so much yearning just by being held close to him.
As a child, she had sought comfort in Caim's arms many times before, whether it was because of being teased by other children, or small monsters in the forest that would threaten her, or even her imagination running away with her. In her aging, however, she had noted the distance that grew between them and it concerned her. Did Caim know of her feelings for him, after all? Even if he had, though, he would have expressed his dislike of it. Even for her, he was not the type to turn a blind eye. She always knew exactly how he felt about everything. It was the connection they had that she held close to heart.
A hand lifted and her fingertips brushed over the ridges of his armour. She had to admit to herself that she preferred him without it. She scarcely embraced him when he wasn't donning it, however, and perhaps that was for the best. There was only so much discipline she could harbour.
One day, Caim, you won't need to wear this armour anymore. We'll be a land of peace. We'll be able to be together without anymore concerns or worries. It'll just be you and me. It'll be us. Together.
Furiae felt him stiffen and her lips began to upturn. Half of her had always questioned her feelings for him. Sometimes she felt a terrible ache in her heart, as though she knew her thoughts weren't to exist. Other times, she wondered why it was considered so terrible. In the books she had read, she had seen too many times a brother and a sister had wed. What was so different if she and Caim were to be unified together? She could think of no other man who was suited for her, and she knew well enough that Caim's eyes had never even passed over another woman. That signified his disinterest, yes?
"Are you sure you weren't harmed?"
Another nod came from him and in a fit of what must have been compassion, he leaned down, took her chin in hand and rested his lips upon her forehead. It seemed to be the only piece of reassurance that he could lend in her direction. She deserved so much more, and he was unable to offer it to her. Like Inuart, he couldn't save her from her fate, although he desperately wanted to.
As he held her to him, she realized she didn't want to repress her feelings any longer. Even if Caim didn't feel the same way for her, she wanted him to know how she felt. He had a right to. She wanted him to know that he held her heart in the very palm of his hand. She wanted him to know that there was no other man in her thoughts than him. She wanted him to know that in a world of insincere loves, hers was a storybook one. One that would last even until the day he passed, to which she would join, even if it were to bring about the world's demise. The gods could create a new world with better people. She could not replace her brother, or the feelings she held for him.
"Caim… I…"
When she began to speak, he withdrew from her and offered her a rather plain look. It caused her to pause and she inclined her head. He was silently warning her, telling her it wasn't time to converse on such things. In spite of this, however, she felt there would be no other time for him to know. This was her only chance. It was the sinking feeling she felt in her stomach.
"No… Please… You must listen to me," she pleaded softly, her eyes trying to betray her feelings to him.
Caim averted his gaze, shaking his head. He reached for his sword again and gestured towards the pathway from whence he had come. Then with his free hand, he offered it to her, palm up.
If they left, he would be too distracted to hear her. He wouldn't be listening. She needed him to listen. She wanted him to listen. It was absolutely necessary. It was required. It was essential. Her right hand clutched the small knife still within her grasp. Had Caim even noticed? No… Of course not. He'd only wanted to know if she was all right. He'd wanted to ensure that if she was shaken up that he could calm her. He'd wanted to soothe her before they left. Then when they were no longer in danger, he could console her to the fullest of his ability.
You don't want him to know, do you? That's why I'm holding you. Am… Am I so impure? Am I not allowed to hold these feelings? Why are you punishing me? All I want to do is love. All I want to do is love Caim. It's all I want. I… I didn't ask to be placed in this role. I didn't ask for you to make me into what I am… I… didn't ask to be a plaything for your enjoyment.
Her eyebrows knit together in deep thought as she stared at the blade of her knife. The overwhelming desire to pierce herself and prevent the agony was so great. She had felt the temptation before. This urge was not hers alone, however. The gods were trying to stop her from admitting her weaknesses to Caim. Suppose he would rush even into the unknown that was her mind to save her? How could he do such a thing when his own sanity was crumbling with every passing moment?
She found her gaze resting upon her brother's who had once more lowered his sword. His eyes read concern, perhaps no longer for escorting her out, but rather a pain that he had placed pieces of the puzzle together. He shook his head at her.
Oh, Caim…
"Caim…" Furiae began slowly as she watched him. "…Caim… I'm sorry. I haven't been a good sister at all. I've been such a burden to you. You've given up your life to protect mine. You've given up your future for me… I… I only wanted to do the same for you. I only wanted you to—"
"I only wanted you to hold me, Caim. I only wanted to be close to you, to touch you, to kiss you, to love you, in ways that no other has."
The Gods. The Nameless. The Watchers.
"No! That… That isn't…" Furiae began to protest.
As her brother approached her, she lifted her free hand to stop him. "Please don't, Caim… Please don't…"
"Don't stop, Caim. I never want to be apart from you. I want to live my entire life with you. I want to be more than your sister."
The Watchers dance. The Watchers sing. The Watchers laugh.
Her feet retracted and she pressed herself against the table. How could he hear these things? And the look he gave to her. Was that disbelief she read in his eyes? Was it repulsion? Was it distaste? Was it his disapproval? Was he chiding her? Was he disgusted with her? Furiae felt a distinct ache in her heart, one that traveled from the source all across her form. His eyes upon her were like knives sticking out from all over her body.
What's one more, Furiae?
"Caim, I—"
"I love you. I love you, Caim. I love you with every beat of my impure heart. I love you more than life itself. I love—"
Isn't that what you want to say?
"—you, Caim. I want to be with you always. I want you to hold me. I want you to save me. I want you to love me. I want you to—"
The Watchers laugh. The Watchers dance. The Watchers sing.
La.
La.
La.
La.
La.
The Watchers see everything. The Watchers know everything. There's nothing you can hide from the Watchers.
"Stop!" Furiae pleaded once more as a splitting pain coursed through her head.
Like a sword to a mirror. Your impurities are like a mirror. Your lust is like a mirror. You are like a mirror. And your brother is that sword.
Her hand tightened once more upon the small knife and she hastily lifted it before driving it into her chest. Her eyes tore away from her brother.
Deeper. Deeper. It isn't deep enough. It must be deeper. This pain will end. This suffering will end. I cannot live in a world where Caim would dislike me. I cannot live in a world without Caim.
"I cannot live. I cannot live."
The Watchers sing. The Watchers dance. The Watchers laugh.
La. La.
La.
La. La.
She stared at the blood seeping from her wound, white turning to red, like a fine wine would stain a carpet, like water would warp wood. Her perception of the world was harsh, but her punishment for her sins harsher. Already she felt the grasp upon her shoulder, tightening, loosening, teasing her, and enticing her. She could hear the Watchers calling for her.
The Gods… What are you?
Furiae was numb.
When she faced her brother once more, nearly stumbling, she swayed from side to side. His eyes. They were the most beautiful things in the entire world. No one else deserved them. No one except for her. Even in her moments of absolute dread, she could think of nothing except Caim.
You're looking at me. You're looking at me with those eyes I love so much. You're looking at me with that expression. You're looking at me, Caim. You're looking at me.
He was looking at her. With surprise. With fright. With concern. With horror. With shock.
With pity.
Her knees buckled beneath her and as she fell, she could remember only one final thing she said to the man of her dreams, to the man she had always believed was her prince.
"Don't… look at me."