I turned slowly to face this boy, this person I had never seen or heard of. Mother had called him a beast but was he really my brother? His long hair was tangled and encrusted with excrement. In his shaking, bloodstained hands, a single mask made out of burlap. His eyes were the strangest color of green, haunting and at the same time, fearful. Of me? Or of her, my mother, the woman I had grown to love? A woman who smelled of soft lavender and spice.
"Who are you?" I asked, quivering slightly under his gaze. My hand reached out to touch him and brush a way a drop of blood about to fall on his only piece of clothing. He shrieked in terror and crawled away from me as fast as he could before he regained his senses and sat upright, his face only slightly visible by a small fire burning low in the grate.
"I should say no one of importance to the only hope of the Destler house, but that in itself is rude. It would only prove me to be a monster of the night. What mother dearest sees me as." His face contorted in rage and anger as he glared at the door behind me. When his eyes turned back he cocked his head sideways and smiled, his scars stretching in queer ways. "I believe I have found my own way to tell you, young one." He gently sat down in front of me and motioned towards the window. "Dawn breaks in 5 hours. Plenty of time."
"I was born mid winter, when the snow was so thick not even the main room fires could keep the smallest mouse warm. The doctor hadn't made it to the manor until it was too late. Too late, meaning too late to kill me before the priest forced Mother to feed me. Forced her to care for my most basic needs in hopes that my soul could be saved. But nowhere did he say she must be kind and gentle. No one told her to love me, so she never did. When I was old enough, a maid told me I was the result of one drunken night. See our father never wanted children. He was a rich respected man, and very old indeed. He had no need for an heir, but had a Destler mistress. See, the Destler name has influences, if only for the females. The men are killed at birth. The women? Groomed. Purebred. Beautiful. Why Noemi Allette, you are the spitting image of one of the most virtuous women to walk out of here and become something more." His hand reached out to swipe away a small fraction of hair that fell so innocently in my eyes.
"Yes, Noemi, you will become strong and powerful. Your voice will become an angels. Someday, somehow, it will. Those grey eyes are like haunting orbs now, and I can only guess at their power as you age. Noemi, you will be beautiful. I can only hope I am there beside you to see it."
He listened intently for a moment before his face turned red with rage. He stood and screamed as loud as he could. Fear filled my body as I watched my newfound brother pound his fist into the wall. "NO! NO! NO!" His sobs were full of pain and rage. His glare was venomous at the door behind me. "DON'T LISTEN TO HIM! MOTHER!!!" Tears streamed down his face until he turned and threw his body weight into one single punch that blasted a hole through the wall. The moon shone brightly outside, a symbol of hope. The dawn of a new day soon to come and a new beginning just around the corner. Erik turned to me and calmed instantly.
"Noemi, You don't have to come with me. But if you do, you have a chance to be more than a high class purebred prostitute. You have the choice to change your destiny, right here, right now. All you have to do is take my hand." Erik's eyes were so warm that night. He gave me love and comfort although he could have never been my father; his affection was that of a caring, overprotected brother, to the point, had he been old enough, he could easily have been mistaken. I had a brother. I had support for the rest of my life. I had protection. I had a brother. Me.
I grasped his hand without a second thought. And Erik's smile in that moment proved a certain someone right. He had a heart that could hold the world. His arms however, pulled me in and busted us through the hole and into the night.
The air was cool, and crisp. I could smell the estate around me, but it was something Erik was not used to. His nose was going crazy, trying to decipher scent from scent. Something wet splashed upon my face and I reached up and touched it. The liquid? Blood. Bright red in the moonlight. "Erik!" I exclaimed softly, "You're bleeding!"
He looked down at me and I saw the bright red dripping out of his nose and off his knuckles and his shoulders. He smiled coyly and spoke softly, "Just sleep Noemi. You've had a long day. Let me get to the stables and we'll get out of here."
"Why do you want to leave?" I asked sleepily as I curled into his chest, so boyishly defined.
"Mother has always hated me. She didn't let me come around you the night you were born because she was afraid your soul would be tainted by me. She believed me evil. And I'm not. She finally gave in and wanted to send me away. To an asylum. Our father said either him, or me. And she chose me. " His eyes turned soft at the stables and he whispered, "Exactly the same. These stables are exactly the same."
The last I remember we were riding away on a pitch black mare with a pure white mane. The rolling grasslands turned into beaches and oceans. When I awoke, dawn had broken and my new day had begun. We had become gypsies. And we were on the run.