Never Ending Darkness- Chapter Four

Kyanna Rosenfeld

It was still dark when I woke to Father calling my name. I groaned and rubbed my face, my body achy and sore, protesting the fact that it was already being called upon to move again. The headache still lingered from the previous night, and I could see the blood-red colored marks from Mikaelson’s fingernails decorating my forearms. Today wasn’t going to bed fun.

“Are you awake yet, dearest daughter?”

I tried to judge by his tone how long he’d been trying to wake me up. He didn’t sound very annoyed, but scarcely called me “dearest daughter” unless I was nearly in trouble. I stopped trying to figure how annoyed he was. Instead, I drew a deep breath and rolled out of bed, muttering something at him that was unintelligible even to me.

Clumsily I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and struggled into the old outfit I wore to do the morning farm chores. I started down the ladder, but slipped on one of the lower rungs. A moment later I found myself sprawled across the hard wooden floor. I blinked groggily, glaring at the treacherous ladder for a long moment before I grunted and pushed myself back to my feet.

“Are you alright?” Father’s voice sounded slightly amused.

“Fine.” This early in the morning it took far too much effort to give anything longer than a one word answer. I started toward the door, rolling up the sleeves of Father’s old flannel shirt that hung around my shoulders, far too big on my small frame.

“As full of sunshine as ever, I see.”

“There’s no sun in sight.” I glared at his outline, only barely visible in the flickering candlelight. I never understood why he was always so happy in the mornings. I stumbled into my boots, half-falling against the wall as I did, then started outside, muttering under my breath but being sure I was loud enough he could hear. “I hate morning people.”

Arlonn Rosenfeld

The door shut loudly, a final protest before she started her chores. I chuckled softly, shaking my head. It never ceased to amuse me how much she grumbled in the mornings. She never grumbled about her chores or the soreness that must constantly be in her body from the long hours she worked, at least not to me, but it was a daily thing for her to grumble about morning and morning people.

I moved my hand, feeling the items around my chair until I came to my weaving supplies. I picked up the partially weaved basket from the night before, and finished the piece I’d already started. I needed Kya to tell me which orders my colors were in before I could do any more. She should be back in soon.

I sighed as I realized what I was thinking and rubbed my face. It was frustrating to be so dependent on my daughter. I missed the days when I had use of my own eyes, and didn’t have to rely on Kya to lay all of my work out for me; missed the days when I acted like a man and cared for my baby girl, instead of the other way around.

I shook myself, trying to stop pouting, wondering why a wave of self-pity suddenly washed over me. Pouting was something I didn’t allow in my children, and it was a habit I didn’t intend to take up. Besides, I’d decided a long time previous, shortly after I was injured and my baby girl had to take my place in the mines, that I’d be happy for Kya, even if I couldn’t do anything else for her anymore. Poor Kyanna, forced to take care of our farm lest the king should seize it and force us into the streets, and forced into the mines to save my life.

I cringed to think about it. Sometimes I wished God would take me home; I was sure that me not being around as a burden would lighten her heavy load. If I was certain that the despot king, may he die tomorrow, would allow her to stop working once in his bloody Imperial Mines once there was no male in the household, I would have quickened the process of me going to glory. I shook my head again, closing my eyes tightly. Happy. Be happy.

Kyanna Rosenfeld

The sun was risen enough by the time I exited the barn I could see without a lamp, even though I still couldn’t see the sun itself. I rubbed my face again, mostly awake now, and walked back to the house, toting the eggs and milk I gathered. I walked into the kitchen, glancing toward Father’s chair. His eyes were closed, which usually meant he was thinking.

I swallowed, setting the things in my arms down. “Um…”

He opened his eyes, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “Yes?”

“I’m going to go check on Auron now.” I grabbed the mending out of the crate I kept it in, and I continued quickly before he could argue. “I really need him to start mending this shirt I accidentally got a hole in the other day.”

There was a moment’s pause, and I saw Father’s brow crease in a disapproving frown. He grunted, then nodded his head slowly. “…Alright, but be careful. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what would happen if a soldier saw you.”

“Yes sir.” I murmured, grabbing a loaf of bread and starting out the door once more. I shut the door softly behind me, and carefully looked around the clearing that surrounded my house. There were large footprints in the soft dirt below me, and the crates were still scattered about—but there was no soldier to be found. I started up the hill.

Auron Rosenfeld

A twig snapping nearby my hideout pulled me from my slumber. My breath caught, chest tight, as I strained to hear what was outside my hole. I swallowed hard, heart racing in my chest as my imagination was suddenly awake and active. The soldiers found me. I was going to be thrown in prison. My family was already imprisoned. I was going to—

“Auron.” A whisper reached me as a shadow passed over the small opening of my home.

I recognized the owner of the voice. I scrambled out of my dugout as quickly as I could. “Kyanna!”

“Shh,” She chuckled, hugging me tightly. “How is my favorite brother today?”

I smiled, even though I knew she really didn’t have a choice but to pick me as her favorite. “I’m okay, but you scared me last night. Why didn’t you come? What happened? I thought I heard something—“

“Long story,” She interrupted, not unkindly. “But I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.”

“…Right.” I agreed slowly, as I finally released her from my hug.

“I brought you food.” She said, holding out a glorious loaf of bread to me. I smiled again. My stomach was so empty and sore. “And mending.”

I was happy to help with the mending too. I wasn’t the best at sewing, and it was certainly something I wouldn’t pick to do—but I was still glad I could do something to help my sister. She was doing so much for me. My eyes flicked across her, and landed on the cuts on her arms. “What happened?”

“What? Oh, nothing.” She tugged at the sleeves that partially covered her forearms, trying to cover the marks.

“What happened to your arms? Was it a soldier?”

“Yep.” Her voice was utterly devoid of emotion as she gathered up the small basket that I’d weaved the previous day along with the materials I didn’t use. “But don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Really.”

I frowned at her. I knew my sister. She was never fine when she said she was, especially not when a soldier was involved. She was just too prideful to admit when someone hurt her. “Was it my fault?”

“Of course not, don’t be daft.”

I frowned, looking down. She was also too kind to tell me when I caused her to be hurt. She always took the blame, whether it was her fault or not. Whenever I made the soldiers angry, however I did, I still wasn’t quite sure what I’d done, she came and made me this hideout and told me it was her fault that the soldiers wanted me.

“Auron.” She said, firmly grasping my shoulder. I looked at her hand. It was dirty and cracked, evidence of the abuse she put it through each day. It also seemed huge. Her fingers could have wrapped all the way around my upper arm if she wanted. She was constantly getting taller, and stronger, and prettier—and I was still the same, sickly, scrawny kid I was when I was eight. I looked up at her.

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” I smiled weakly, wishing that were true. She patted my back reassuringly. “Just eat and finish mending. You’re a huge help to me, Aur. I really appreciate everything you do.”

“Yeah.” My voice was so soft I could barely hear it.

“I need to go now,” she said. Back to the mines. I threw my arms around her waist and hugged tightly, wishing she didn’t have to leave me. Wishing I could be the one leaving her with mending to do, while I went to work in the mines. When I get bigger and stronger, I’ll take her place.

Jareth Ainsley

Coal dust was sticking to every surface by the time we managed to emerge from the mouth of the cave. My clothes, my hair, my skin—Kyanna’s clothes, and hair, and skin. I looked her over and shook my head, sending a small poof of black dust into the air. The coal-covered baggy clothes she wore looked ridiculous on her small frame.

She looked at me innocently and smiled, pointing to my cheek. “You’ve got a bit of dust…everywhere.”

I gave her a half-hearted smile, knowing she’d keep trying to amuse me until she succeeded.

“Yeah, bad joke, I know, sorry. I’m tired.” She smiled apologetically.

“Yet you’re still happy.” I turned and started toward the office.

She was close behind. “Yep.”

I rolled my eyes as I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to brush out some of the coal dust before I went inside. “Well, you can take your happiness and go on home. We’re done for tonight.”

“Are you sure?” She asked sweetly.

I pulled my filthy shirt off and turned to look at her, using the balled fabric to wipe some of the coal dust from my arms. She looked as exhausted as I felt, her eyelids drooping despite her efforts to look energetic. “I’m sure. Go home, go to bed.”

“Yes, sir.” She said, nodding. She wasn’t heading to bed, and we both knew it. She was going to go back to her place and start working again, like she always did. I nodded my goodbye to her, and turned toward a basin of water I kept outside my office, as a preliminary bath before I went inside.

She turned and started walking away, but I heard her sweet voice singing softly as she left. I stopped splashing to listen. “Your love never fails, it never runs out, it never gives up on me. Your love nev—” Suddenly I couldn’t hear her voice anymore. I turned around, frowning, wondering why she’d stopped so abruptly.

She was nowhere in sight. I started toward the building on the corner, fearing what could be starling enough to make her stop singing mid-phrase. While I was still a dozen strides from the edge of the building I heard a loud thump, then the entire shed shook like something was thrown against it, hard.

I quickened my pace, hurrying to get around the side of the small building. My chest was strangely tight, my breath coming with far more difficulty than it should have. I hesitated when I saw what laid before me. Kyanna, pinned against the building by a soldier, a second soldier standing nearby. She was glaring up at them even though she looked tiny and scared.

“You’ll tell us where you’re hiding that brat.”

“Over my dead body.” She spat.

“That can be arranged.” The soldier holding her hissed, as he slammed her against the wall once more. I cringed at the sound her back colliding with the building. I started toward them once more.

“Mikaelson.” The second soldier said sharply.

The one holding Kyanna looked up at the other. “Sir?”

“That’s enough. We’ve got something better coming for the brats anyway.”

Kyanna frowned, suspicious, as her eyes flicked between the two of them. The first soldier, Mikaelson, smiled cruelly but released Kya. “Sir.”

She glared at both of them for a long moment, before doing a stiff curtsy and starting toward her farm once more. She was limping slightly, but seemed mostly unharmed. I glared at the soldiers, hate welling in my chest once more. I wished the king and his soldiers would all go die in a fire somewhere, and leave me and my friends alone.