A/N: I almost named him Roq, but Nixil seemed like a fitting name. In honor of you, mah dea. Thanks so much to the terribly fantastic Captain Fantastic for putting up with my semi-colon fetishes. My hero. Live. Laugh. Love. Review-Livvy

Most people would be happy, I'm sure, or curious-- perhaps even elated! I mean, really, ... living forever?

I fainted, and when I came to my senses on the cold tile of the throne room floor I was the angriest I'd ever been in my life. How dare they keep such a thing from me! It was my life, and although it was strange, there was something oddly comforting about the inevitability of death-- it meant that at the end of the day, no matter what happened, there was only one fate in store for all of us, rich and poor alike.

As a princess, I was already robbed of all privacy and free will; I did what I was told and spoke when spoken to. Was this small comfort to be taken from me as well?

My mother must have seen my grief, for, although my father warned her with his eyes, she kneeled next to me, sighing heavily.

"There are other options... You are not required to choose this. There are people that have refused it and gone on to live a normal life."

I jumped up from where I had been sitting on the floor of the throne room.

"That's what I want! I choose that; let me be that instead--"

"Silence, child! Do not let your anger at us colour your decision. This is not something to be taken lightly."

I looked at my father's face, which was beginning to turn purple, and I began to grow suspicious. He had always agreed with most of my decisions up until now, and even when our opinions clashed he always stated his reasoning. Why the sudden closed-mouth anger?

"Why won't you let me do this? Why are you so adamant about me not making this decision, even if it's what I want?"

I stared at my father, my eyes narrowed, yet my mother was the first to speak.

"Do you think us completely soulless, child? Do you think I wish to see my only daughter wither away in the years to come, only to have to place her underground myself? We have made the choice to be here for time eternal-- I had simply hoped that--" "I know that's why you want me to do this, Mama," I said, nodding, "but I'm talking to him." I pointed an angrily shaking finger at my puce-coloured father, and he suddenly seemed to deflate before my eyes, sighing.

"I...I... Nixil cannot know... is not ready... he who rules cannot be of average stock..."

Oh.

Oh.

I understood now; I knew that line well. It was from the Great Poem Lissanza, set down by the first king of Cabot, a piece of material we were often set to memorize by our tutors. I had always thought it simply meant that the royal bloodline had to endure-- the poetic ramblings of a dotty old man with an intense superiority complex.

Now I understood what it really meant; one must know of our family's.... condition in order to be able to rule. So if Nixil didn't know, he could not make the choice to live forever, and he would not rule. I could see it in my mother's sad face; she had tried to dissuade him, but to no avail. My father was as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be, and he would hold fast. He did not trust my wayward, fun-loving brother, and so, by doing this, he was binding me to a duty he knew I would not take otherwise, and my brother to his eventual death.

As I realized this, I felt a sudden, pressing weight upon my shoulders, like I would never be free again, and I knew, despite my many unanswered questions, I had to leave that room before I did something I would regret later.

"I understand. Mama, Papa." I inclined my head quickly and fled from the room, still processing my fate.

I couldn't do this! It wasn't my responsibility, it never had been! Nixil might be a bit of an idiot sometimes, but he's got a head on his shoulders; I saw him just the other day planning out a brilliant battle strategy with one of his games. Father just refuses to see his intelligence; he thinks that a boy should be inside studying literature and mathematics, not outside 'cavorting with subjects and tearing about and womanizing like a madman.'

"Stupid old man, doesn't see what's right in front of his face, I don't want t--Oof!" I collided with something warm and solid, but before I could hit the ground a hand grabbed my shoulder and hoisted me up.

"Where have you come from that's got you in such a mood, little sister?" My brother's suave voice asked, amused, and I shook my head, unwilling to look up.

"Come now, it couldn't have been that bad? Did the stablehands accidentally get manure on the ledgers again? Did Myla coin increase in value?" I snorted in spite of my misery, and he laughed in response. Myla coin was the neighboring kingdom's currency, made of an entirely useless metal they called gold. Myla coin was less than a quarter of the worth of the rest of the realm's wooden coin, and for it to go up would mean the world was at an end.

Trust my brother to make light of a dark situation. I sighed.

"I merely had a meeting with our dear father."

"Really? Usually you're in quite a good mood when you come back from seeing him. What, did he get you married off then?"

"No, thank goodness."

"Hmmm. Well what happened then?"

I hesitated, trying to think up an excuse as quickly as I could, but it was no use. My mind was blank.

"Ah, so he's told you you're it then."

I looked up sharply, surprised, but his trademark easy smile was still there.

"Don't look so surprised. I've known for a while he doesn't want me to do the job. I'm quite surprised you didn't figure it out sooner, honestly." His bright blue eyes grew sad.

"I am ...sorry that this has to fall on you. I did try, for a while, but I was not meant for it. I will help you in any way I can... you know that."

I nodded, unable to speak, startled by my rarely serious sibling's sincerity,and the terrible sadness of my father's decision struck me. I was going to watch my brother die, never knowing the chance he could have had... but I could change that. Right here, right now, I could tell him everything, and he would understand, and the burden would vanish from--

"Well, it's time I leave you to your thoughts, I think. Briel and I are taking a hunting trip tomorrow, and I'd best start packing. Do give yourself a little breathing room, Zia-- you don't have to accept your fate just yet."

And with that, my brother strode off towards the stables, whistling quietly to himself; I watched his carefree frame wistfully.

He had been free to choose his fate. In return, mine was given to me.

It was the curse of the firstborn.