The Sharpest Blades, Ch. 1

The Sharpest Blades

Chapter One

***

For Hira, every night the dream had the same beginning.

Tonight's dream, unsurprisingly, started out like this: with her standing in front of a seemingly endless bed of flaming embers. It was dark all around her save for the lit wooden poles lining the bed of hot rocks. The air was dry, the flame's smoke, though faint, even drier. It wasn't a strange feeling for Hira. The Tazreti sun would always shine upon its people with searing hotness: blowing dry winds that did nothing to cool them.

No, her skin was no stranger to the prickling heat that was now slick against it. But in her dreams, the air would always be heavy with something besides grains of sand and light trails of dust. Something Hira couldn't pinpoint, and could never pinpoint even by her dream's end.

Tonight was no exception.

She knew what came next, and managed to keep from bristling as the distant voice rumbled a low growl. She even managed to keep herself from gripping the gauzy material of her flimsy white dress, keeping her palms open and pressed against her thighs. She would always hope for this stance of hers to be enough for one to be hesitant, for whoever or whatever is watching her in the dark to take note and think, Keep away.

But as always, her stance seemed to go unnoticed as the voice spoke. "Cross," it said, and Hira still wasn't sure if it belonged to a male or female, or even both. She was only sure of the difference in the tone, in its increased aggressiveness from the night before. "Cross, if you are what they say you are. Cross and do not be burned."

Hira felt her body move, almost as if it had been laced with dark magic, almost if it had been sweetly whispered to. It moved forward and Hira tried to fight against herself, to push down against her body and keep it from moving. She wished she had some sort of weapon — a blade or a dagger or a sword, even. Something she could keep hold to feel some sense of security, some sense of control. Something that would make her feel like herself.

But her body ignored her useless protests, as her foot pressed against one of the searing hot coals. She felt a sting there, and then stinging everywhere until it turned into a burning feel that traveled up her body. Until she was consumed by it.

The voice was closer this time, almost as if whispering in her ear: "You are nothing." And it resounded, everywhere, throughout her body. Until she couldn't see or hear or feel anything anymore.

And then, nothing.

For Hira, every morning would begin the same way: with her head cradled in her sister's arms until the thundering of her heart slowed into a calm beat.

***

"Pout your lips," Mai said, demonstrating with her own for Hira to mirror. Hira did so, and the light feathery touch of the brush returned to her lips. "There. I'm almost done, Zharnessa. Just a few minutes more."

And then I'm passed off to the next. More than anything, Hira wanted to respond, but Mai had positioned her hands in that skillful way that told Hira that she was trying to be careful. So she did her best to keep sticking her lips out so that she could avoid having to redo everything.

She hadn't glanced in a mirror once since her handmaidens bustled into her room with supplies and supplies of makeup. But with every tool brought to her face, she had imagined seeing the changes made on her face. Her thick brows had been plucked, but not overly so, so that some form of Tazret stays with her. Her face was not heavy with powder, but she knew it had dulled her brown skin a bit.

And now: her lips colored, reddened from the moist crushed ruby gemstones lying idle on the small tablet next to Mai.

She hoped she could at least recognize herself when looking at the mirror.

The feathery touch was gone. Hira opened her eyes to Mai's raised brows and practiced calm face. "Zharnessa, I ask that you don't loosen your lips," she said. "Pout them again for me. As if you're kissing someone."

Kissing someone. For a second, the idea of it seemed pleasant. But then Naddar's face came to mind and Hira closed her eyes again, immediately pushing the image out. Who she was pretending to kiss had no face, and it made the pouting easier.

Mai sounded pleased when she says, "Yes. Just like that." Hira's lips were being painted for a few moments longer until Mai let out a satisfied sigh. "Finished." She opened her eyes just as Mai set her supplies down, and motioned to the mirror stationed behind her. "Go ahead. Look."

Hira made a move to turn her body around half-way, being mindful not to disrupt the pillows underneath her. But then she stopped herself.

"I'm fine."

Mai frowned, leaning forward, her hands on the knees folded underneath her. "You don't want to see?"

She didn't. She wanted to pretend a little longer that today was like any other day. That today was no less ordinary than yesterday. It was a foolish way to think, but Hira didn't care and so she said, "I'll look later." She would try to delay it for as long as she could.

Mai opened her mouth and then closed it, as if she was reconsidering her next words. Then she said, "It is okay to be afraid, Zharnessa. We're taught not to give into fear, to not let our emotions rule us. But that isn't healthy sometimes. Sometimes we need to feel afraid, to at least acknowledge this feeling."

Hira felt her heart tug in its chest. There was truth in Mai's words, but Hira couldn't let it knock down her resolve. She would stand her ground on not letting her emotions get the best of her. She would do what was best for Tazret despite her own thoughts on the matter.

Because she was Zharnessa, and no Zharnessa should be afraid of anything. Not even of her own enemy.

She stayed quiet even as Mai reached over to place a hand over her hands, sitting atop another, on her lap.

Her voice soft, Mai said, "Your mother wouldn't want you to feel this way. She wouldn't want you to push down your feelings like they don't exist."

She couldn't keep quiet for long, though — not after hearing that. "My mother is dead," Hira said, and this time, she didn't stumble over the words. So is my father, she then thought bitterly, so is Khari.

Mai's voice was still delicate as she replied, seemingly unfazed by Hira's bsluntness, "Not in here." Mai's hand lifted to hover over where Hira's heart was. "She's alive in here. They're all alive in here."

Hira's hands held each other tightly. She wished Mai would stop treating her like the tear-struck child she was when she'd first discovered her dead parents and brother, their bodies toppled over each other, stacked. She wished Mai would finally realize how much her words would hurt, even long after she'd say them, because they'd linger in the air long enough for Hira to feel them deep, deep in her heart. And that was one place Hira couldn't stand to have anything linger.

Because while in the past, these words from Mai would bring some relief, some hope, these days her words only seemed to spark anger in her. And usually, the anger would be toward herself.

So she wouldn't allow herself to hold onto such hope. Not when doing so did nothing but deepen the heart ache.

Her chin lifted, Hira said, "My hairdresser. Isn't she to come next?"

Mai's hand retreated, and Hira felt a twinge of guilt for her coldness. But she couldn't help it, because bringing up her dead family members tended to do that: bring out the ice in her. Mai was quiet for a moment before saying, "She is. I'll send for her now." She turned to gather her supplies and stood, and Hira did her best to avoid her gaze even as Mai moved towards the door. She felt Mai linger there until the door closed behind her.

Hira let her shoulders slump — she hadn't realized how tightly wound up her body was. She was alone with her thoughts until the door opened again. She straightened her posture and kept her head leveled until she realized that her visitor wasn't Ida like Mai promised, but her sister: Jasmin.

Jasmin entered the room in a hesitant manner, as if she was considering darting out of the room any second. But then she finally closed the door behind her, careful, soft, as if she were keeping her presence in Hira's room a secret from others. Like Hira, she was adorned in her best gowns, but she didn't seem to care for them as she handled them haphazardly while moving to where Hira was.

She sat in front of Hira, where Mai just was. And Hira expected idle ramblings almost as soon as her sister took her seat, but she was quiet. Jasmin's gaze cast downwards, at her own hands resting on her lap. The sight surprised Hira a bit: hardly anything would make Jasmin act as stilled as she was now.

Then Jasmin spoke. "You're cooperating well enough." Her voice was low, and Hira almost didn't hear it.

Hira nodded, but made sure to not give away any of her uneasy thoughts away. It wouldn't do either of them good if she were appear doubtful of the situation. "I don't have much of a choice," Hira said. "I give my freedom and Tazret stays free. And if I don't, Tazret goes to Elmore. I can't do anything but cooperate."

"Your freedom," Jasmin said, and she finally looked up, the front of her dark hair barely brushing against the top of her eyebrows. "Does being married really take away your freedom?"

Being married to my enemy probably does, she thought, but she kept it to herself. She didn't have any experience of marriage herself, and for awhile she'd gone on to think she'd never have to bother herself with it. Not until Tazret was attacked.

"I know I wouldn't be as free as I am now," Hira said, and it was as honest as she could answer aloud.

"Maybe you'll like it there."

"Maybe."

Jasmin reached over to touch one of the loose curls dangling at Hira's sides. "I think you should keep your hair as it is."

"You know Ida wouldn't dare let me," she said, smiling a soft smile. "Not when I'm meeting Elmore's royal family."

Jasmin smiled, too, though hers was smaller. "Ida didn't want me to cut my hair and I didn't listen."

Hira's eyes moved to Jasmin's hair: short, curly, and as dark as the darkest of night. It was the kind of style most boys in Tazret would sport: not reaching past the lobes of her ears. At the initial sight, Ida's hand had gripped her chest; the other handmaidens had responded similarly so.

"Even so," Hira said, and her eyes settled back on her sister. "I'm going to be as compliant as they need me to be. I can't afford to do anything that'd jeopardize Tazret's safety."

Jasmin's golden eyes lifted to Hira's: a mirror of her own. And her fingers set Hira's curls loose. "You're right. Tazret needs to be safe." She settled her hands back into her lap, and Hira waited for her to say more, but she kept her lips pursed tightly together.

The sight concerned Hira. There was something Jasmin was holding back, and she wanted to know what it was. Her voice careful, in the way one would speak to a fearful animal, Hira said, "Jasmin, is there anything you —"

A knock sounded on the door, and at the sound, Jasmin shot up to stand. If Hira were to be honest, Jasmin looked almost grateful for the interruption. "I have to go," she said, her words rushed, as she quickly bent over to kiss the top of Hira's head. "I promised Aunt Tizara I'd help with something. I'll see you when you come down."

Hira responded with a nod as Jasmin hurried to the second door in the room, one that led to Jasmin's own room. She would have to ask what was going through Jasmin's head later. She chastised herself, though, for not being as swift to notice things.

Had she been even more intent on her sister's hesitant manner the second she entered the room, perhaps she would have been able to ask earlier.

Had she been spending less time concerned about her own situation, perhaps she would have been able to have enough time to think about someone else's.

Had I been born a minute later, she suddenly thought, watching Jasmin give her the same small smile as before just before leaving, perhaps I'd still be free.

***

So... I started a new story. This idea has been rolling around in my head for months now, and I've been itching to write something for it. I'm not sure what to think about this (what else is new?). Title is temporary — so is the summary. I'm looking for some feedback. Please let me know what you think. Good or bad, I'd like to hear. Thank you. :)

-comrie