Zeriah squirmed against her ties as she watched Kierrai go over the edge.
"NO!" she tried to scream, though it came out more like "MMMM!" due to the piece of cloth stuffed into her mouth. She wiggled about until she felt her hands sliding out of the ropes that bound her. Their attackers were not very good at tying knots. As soon as she was freed, she ran to the edge of the cliff, hoping to see some sign of life below. All she could see were the waves crashing against the rocks. "Maker protect my sister." She murmured as she sprinted back to the horses.
Tears were flowing down her face by the time she reached Castle Cousland. Guards tried to stop her, to ask her what was wrong, but she shoved past all of them. She burst through the doors to her father's office. His back was turned when she entered.
"Skipping out on court? I remember when I used to- Zeriah? What is the matter? Where is Kierrai?" he asked, fear in his voice. Her mother walked in at that moment, her eyes wide in confusion.
"What is happening? The guards told me that you were in tears!" Eleanor asked. Zeriah sobbed as she blubbered out her tale. How she had convinced Kierrai to sneak out, how the men had approached them, and how the last time she saw Kierrai she was careening over the edge of a cliff into the sea. How it was her fault that the heir-apparent to the throne of Ferelden was missing and possibly wounded. That she was possibly dead. She considered leaving out the part about the dead man, but changed her mind at the last minute.
"There is one more thing…" she whispered. Bryce put a hand on her shoulder.
"What is it, Pup?" he asked. She met his steady gaze and realized that she was trembling.
"One of the men that was holding Kierrai back…he was dead when I woke. He had been stabbed in the throat." She said, her voice quavering. Both her parents nodded solemnly.
"We will find her." Eleanor said, determination clear in her voice. She left the room to set up the search party. Zeriah looked at her father, and knew in her heart that Kierrai would be found.
She sat on the rocky outcropping with her arms wrapped around her knees. After emerging from the depths, she had found her way to dry land, and that is where everything from the last hour hit her.
"I've killed. Not once, but twice." She thought to herself. The memories flashed through her head. The squelching sound of the knife entering the man's throat. His last gurgle as he clutched at his wound and fell to the ground. The fear in Zeriah's eyes as she looked at her. Murderer.
The second murder had been more recent. As she and her opponent soared over the edge of the cliff, the man had gripped onto her arms with all his strength. They hit the water like a ton of bricks, and the icy chill knocked the wind out of her. She fought to keep her mouth closed as her limbs began to stroke toward the surface. Suddenly, she felt something clasping tightly around her throat, and she realized that she was being strangled. She couldn't move. The much larger man held her down and prevented her from escaping to the fresh air above the cold, salty water. She couldn't breathe, couldn't feel her numb limbs. Her body was heavy, and she felt herself sinking. Sinking with the man that held her long neck. She could feel her heartbeat racing to get oxygen to her blood to no avail. She clawed at the hands that held her, digging bloody furrows into his skin. Her mouth opened and the salty water filled it as she screamed, but no one would hear her. As black spots began to enter her vision, her instincts took over. With icy calm, her hidden knives were once again in her hands and she quickly plunged them into either side of the man's throat. His grip loosened, as red filled the dark water, but she refused to relent. She stabbed again and again until his hands completely released her and she watched his body sink into the darkness below. Her body was on autopilot as her arms and legs began to kick and propel her toward the surface. When she broke through, she filled her lungs with beautiful oxygen. The rocky outcropping was nearby, and she turned toward it, putting the last of her strength into surviving the Waking Sea.
Two deaths, both by her hand, both in one day. Those men would never have a chance to redeem themselves, even though they had been vile toward her. She had no right to take their lives. It wasn't her job to decide who lived and who died. She began to rock back and forth as tears flowed down her face.
"I'm a killer." She whispered. She didn't have to say it out loud; she knew it in her heart.
It didn't take long to find her; the fact that she had been conscious when she fell into the Sea had turned the odds in the favor of the search party. Bryce saw her sitting on the rocks, shivering, tears flowing down her face. She didn't respond when they called her name, and when Bryce reached her side, he knew why. Her brown eyes were distant. The mischievous light that usually filled them was absent. It was almost like there was no one left inside Kierrai's head.
He knew that look well. It was a look that he had seen in the eyes of most of the young soldiers during the war against Orlais. It was a look he had seen in the eyes of his wife, his son, his friends, and even the eyes that looked back at him from the mirror. There was a certain emptiness that came from taking a life for the first time. Bryce sighed. Poor Kierrai had had to go through this tragedy when she was only sixteen. Part of him felt glad that Zeriah still hadn't had to go through this experience. He wrapped his cloak around Kierrai's shivering form and lifted her from the ground.
"It will be all right, child." He murmured. Kierrai sobbed against his chest, and he couldn't find it in him to put her down. He set her in front of him on his horse, and when they returned to the castle, he took her into his arms again. He turned to Ser Gilmore, who had been a part of his search party. "Find the others and tell them she is safe." He ordered. The young knight nodded and ran to do as he was told. Ora, Kierrai's handmaiden, rushed into the courtyard.
"Oh, thank the Maker. Bryce, you bring that girl to her room, I will have her back to normal in no time." The old woman ordered. He listened immediately, feeling as though she was right. He carried Kierrai to her room and set her down on the bed. He kissed her forehead and left her with Ora. As he paused in the doorway, he saw that she hadn't budged.
"Kierrai Theirin, you will snap out of this stupor and tell me every detail of what happened." Ora commanded. Her eyes flicked over to the old woman, whose face held a triumphant grin. As soon as Bryce had left, she had been unceremoniously dragged to the bathtub, washed, and dressed by Ora. Now as she sat before the fire, her caretaker demanded answers. She closed her eyes and began to speak. She told Ora everything; how they had snuck out, the appearance of the men, the molestation, and the murders. Ora was shaking her head by the time she finished her tale.
"What?" she asked, her voice hoarse from screaming, crying, and salt water. Ora crouched down in front of her.
"Those men did you wrong, child. It was no murder." She scolded. Kierrai shook her head, refusing to look at the old woman.
"I took lives. That is the job of the Maker, I had no right." She whispered. Ora frowned at her.
"They had no right to do what they did to you and Zeriah either. You were only defending yourself, and you shouldn't feel bad about it." She said. Ora kissed her forehead and left her alone in the room. Kierrai sighed and looked over at the mirror. Dark bruises were beginning to form on her neck, and she was sure there were bruises all over her body as well. She saw her eyes staring back at her and scoffed in disgust. She went to the mirror and took it from the wall, turning it so that she wouldn't have to see herself anymore. She would have broken it, but she knew it was an old heirloom.
Kierrai sat in the window, staring out across the grounds. The large, airy room suddenly felt cramped and oppressive. She turned from the window and went to the door. Surprisingly there were no guards posted in the hallway, so she quietly slipped out and made her way to the battlements. It was always the most peaceful part of the castle because only a few guards ever went up there. It was the perfect place for solitude. One of the guards nodded to her and she returned it as she passed. It was then that she became aware of someone following her. She didn't bother to find out who it was, she knew they would reveal themselves as soon as she stopped moving.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Fergus asked as she stared up at the stars. She shook her head, not wanting to speak. He sat beside her. "I remember the first time I killed a man." He said. She quickly glanced at him before turning away again. "I was about twenty years old, and father and I helped the local authorities go after some bandits that had been terrorizing a nearby village. We were supposed to just capture them, but a few of them wouldn't surrender." He remembered. Kierrai saw the distance in his eyes, the same distance that now dominated her own, before it faded away as if it had never been there. "They attacked, and we reacted. My blade went right through the man's heart, and I watched the light go out of his eyes. It was the most terrifying experience of my life, then." Kierrai turned to face him fully.
"How did you learn to forgive yourself?" she asked softly. He placed a brotherly hand on her shoulder, and she flinched, the memory of her attacker's hands flashing to the front of her mind. He did not let her reaction phase him, however, and she calmed herself down.
"I didn't for a long time. I blamed myself, wondering if that man had a wife or children, and that is when Father told me the story of his first kill. That helped, knowing that I wasn't the only one. He reminded me that I was still a good person. And then I remembered that everything happens for a reason. Everything is a part of the Maker's plan. As long as I wasn't actively hunting down innocents, I would be fine." He said. She nodded. Everything he said made sense.
"When I was in Antiva, everyone would always say 'Death happens.' I never really understood what they meant by that. Not until now." She revealed. Fergus put an arm around her shoulders.
"You will learn to move on. You will never forget, but you will forgive yourself." He assured her. She sighed. Fergus had a habit of cheering her up. She could feel that she was starting to forgive herself already. Maybe she wasn't the heartless murderer that she had previously thought. Unfortunately that made room for the feelings of helplessness that came with the other events of the day.
A/N: Hey guys, sorry I am posting a day later than usual... I've got work and school and life and jeez it all gets in the way, doesn't it? I'll try to stay on top of things from now on! Thank you to all of those who have continuously reviewed! Your encouragement keeps me going! You are all AMAZING!
