Three
Father
Eight-year-old Tirah sat at the table drawing. She didn’t know what the dark, winged creature was that she drew, but she was constantly compelled to draw it. Sometimes it was on the ground, but mostly it was flying, wings stretched wide as it flew through the clouds.
When she heard the bedroom door open, Tirah hastily flipped her picture over and covered it with another, knowing her mother wouldn’t want the man called “Father” to see it.
“I will send someone to collect the girl in a week.” Father—a hard and commanding man—came into view. Tirah swallowed. She knew he was talking about her.
Tirah’s mother followed him out of the bedroom and tied back her long dark hair as she glanced nervously at Tirah, before looking at Father.
“No, please, she’s just a child.” Tears brimmed in Ashara’s eyes, and Tirah sat up straighter, wondering what was going on.
“She will begin her training,” Father replied firmly, and sat down on the bench beside the door to pull on his shiny black boots.
“Please, you’ve taken everything from me. She and the baby are all I have left.” Her plea landed on deaf ears, and wiping her tears away, Mother reached out and touched Father’s arm. “I thought—”
“You thought what?” Father’s dark-brown eyes narrowed in such a way that Tirah shivered. The man had never spoken a single word to her, but she had always been able to sense his coldness.
“I just thought that maybe you’d leave her with me, since you took my boys,” Ashara said in a quiet voice.
Father’s frigid gaze grew even colder as it landed on Tirah. “You know they are all created to become soldiers. That is the only purpose I have for you.”
Tirah didn’t know what he was talking about, though Mother’s expression was full of sadness and anger. Father stood. “You and the children are a means to an end, that is all.”
Ashara moved in front of him. “Then let her meet her brothers. Please? At least she’ll know someone when she moves into the trainee dorms.”
“She has met her brothers,” Father snapped as he removed his black robe from the hook where it always hung when he came to visit.
“That was four years ago. She doesn’t remember them. If she knows her brothers, she might not be scared,” her mother begged.
Father settled the robe over his shoulders. “I really don’t care if she’s scared. The fear will make her tougher, and by the looks of her, she will need to be as tough as possible.” Then Father moved around Ashara and opened the door.
“If you care for me at all, please?” Ashara cried softly.
Father grew still, and his eyes narrowed. “Why would you ever think that?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that,” Ashara backtracked.
Satisfied, Father let out a deep breath. “Never make the mistake of thinking that I care. I don’t. Now, I might grant your request, however.”
Ashara’s eyes lit up for a moment, but then she quickly lowered her eyes under Father’s gaze. Once satisfied, he cocked his head. “Seeing what their lives would be like if they weren’t soldiers might be good for the boys. I will think on it.” Then ignoring Ashara’s gasp, he left.
Two days later, Tirah’s brothers were delivered to their door by one of the Ilyium’s soldiers.
“Remember, don’t tell anyone what you are—ever. It’s our secret, right?” her mother whispered fiercely. Tirah met her worried gaze and nodded. How could she forget? Every time Father was due to visit, or when they went to the slave’s market, she was reminded. When she asked why, her mother always said she’d explain when Tirah was older.
“You have fifteen minutes,” the soldier said.
“Thank you,” Ashara responded, but the soldier just walked out of their yard to go wait at the guard shack.
Ashara smiled at her sons. “Boys, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I’ve missed you.” Mother pulled the smaller boy into a hug, while the bigger one hung back. Then, when she tried to hug him, he stiffened and pulled away.
At the sight of Mihel, Tirah’s heart sang with sudden happiness, along with a sick feeling. For the last year, he’d sneaked out of the dorms at night and came to visit her.
***
The first night she had sensed Mihel’s presence out in the yard but hadn’t known who he was. She’d gotten up and peered out the little window in the tiny room she shared with her baby brother, surprised to see a boy staring back at her. Curious, but careful not to wake the baby, or her mother, Tirah eased the window open. “Who are you?”
The boy stared at her solemnly. “I’m Mihel, your brother.”
Tirah remembered her mother asking Father about someone named Mihel, along with someone else, though she couldn’t remember the other name. She had never understood the sadness in Mother’s eyes or why she’d been asking, but now, joy filled Tirah at the news she had another brother. She couldn’t wait to tell mother and see her eyes light up.
“You can’t tell Mother or anyone that I come here,” Mihel said.
Her joy dimmed a fraction. She so wanted to see happiness fill her mother’s face for once. “But why?”
“Father will be very angry, and I will get in big trouble if anyone finds out,” Mihel answered.
Just the mention of Father sent dread through her and Tirah agreed. “Oh. All right. I promise.”
At least a few times a week Mihel would come visit her, and Tirah, who had no other friends, loved those nights. They’d talk, she’d ask questions, and sometimes he’d answer, sometimes he wouldn’t. She learned that she had another older brother named Casin as well.
“Can I meet him too?” she asked.
Mihel shook his head. “No.”
“Why?”
Mihel sighed. “Remember? You promised not to tell anyone that I come here, right?”
Tirah nodded.
Mihel swallowed and glanced around, before looking back at her. “Casin is not nice, in fact, he’s really mean. If he found out I came here, he’d tell on me, just to get me in trouble.”
Tirah didn’t understand why he’d do that, but the sincerity and trepidation in Mihel’s eyes told her not to push it.
Then a week went by, and Mihel failed to show up. Another week came and went, and still no Mihel. At first, she thought maybe he’d grown tired of coming to see her, but after three weeks and no sign of him, she started to get worried. She really wanted to tell her mother, only her promise kept her silent. Though as the days had passed, and her loneliness and longing to have someone around her age had grown, she didn’t know how long she could keep her secret.
***
With mixed emotions, Tirah watched her two brothers. She wanted to ask Mihel where he’d been, but the warning in his eyes kept her silent.
Mihel was ten, and he’d told her that Casin was twelve, but she hadn’t realized how different they would look. Casin was taller and much heavier, with brown hair just like Father. Remembering what Mihel had told her about him, she averted her eyes when Casin’s angry pale-brown eyes landed on her.
Tirah shivered and covertly studied Mihel instead. He was smaller and thinner than Casin and had their mother’s dark hair. The only similarities between the two boys were their short hair styles and the grey uniforms they wore. She wondered why they weren’t dressed like all the other Ilyium … in long black or grey robes.
Mother nervously patted her long, tied-back black hair, and looked around. “Here, let’s go sit.” She led them to the sitting area, then as baby Wren started to fuss in his bassinet, Ashara scooped him up. “It’s all right, Momma has you,” she crooned and sat down on the bench. Tirah slid in next to her.
Mihel sat across from them, and Tirah’s anxiety subsided when his light-blue eyes met hers. He winked, and Tirah smiled.
“That’s my brother?” Mihel asked, looking back at their mother.
“Yes, his name is Wren,” Ashara said, love in her gaze as she stared down at the baby. Then she smiled at Casin, who stood a few feet away from them with his arms over his chest.
“Casin, come sit.” Ashara smiled and indicated the spot beside Mihel.
With a deep sigh, Casin glared at Mihel, then sat beside him, making sure there was space between them.
“How are you both?” Mother asked again.
“I’m good, thank you,” Mihel said politely.
“Fine, of course,” Casin said grudgingly and with a hint of arrogance, which reminded Tirah of Father. Then a calculated look entered his eyes. “Mihel got in trouble for sneaking out of the dorms at night.” He grinned, and Tirah’s eye grew wide.
“Are you all right?” Ashara asked.
“I am.” Mihel gave Tirah and Ashara a guilty smile.
“Why aren’t you wearing robes?” Tirah finally asked, unable to hold back her curiosity.
Casin scowled at her. “We’re in training, we wear uniforms. Don’t you know anything?”
Mihel jabbed him in the side, and Casin sneered at him. “She’s joining the ranks next week, she should know this stuff.”
As Ashara drew in a breath, Tirah frowned up at her. “What is ranks?”
Casin glared at their mother with disgust. “Don’t you teach her anything?”
“Please, Casin, let’s just enjoy this visit. It’s been four years since I’ve seen either of you,” Ashara pleaded.
Casin ignored her and turned to Tirah. “You will be a soldier, like us.”
Tirah was taken aback. All the soldiers she’d ever seen were so cold looking. Scary. “I don’t want to be a soldier.”
Mother bit back a little cry. “Casin, please—”
Again, Casin ignored her. “You have no choice. Father is the commander. He says we are to be soldiers, and his word is law.” Then Casin reached over and pinched Tirah’s arm. “You will need some work, fatty.”
Suddenly scared, Tirah sucked in a breath and shrank against her mother’s side. Mihel had been right, Casin was mean.
“Casin.” Mother wrapped an arm around Tirah and held her close.
“Leave her alone,” Mihel snapped, shoving Casin back. He glared at his older brother. With a snicker, Casin backed off.
“M-momma?” Tirah felt sick.
“We’ll talk later, baby,” Ashara replied, giving her a squeeze. Then she turned to Casin with tears in her eyes. “I am very sorry. It’s apparent you aren’t happy. I wish there was something, anything that I could do to change that.”
Casin glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest again. “You don’t know anything.”
Ashara brushed at her eyes, then squared her shoulders and looked at Casin. “You need to know, if I could have kept you here with me, I would have.”
Casin pursed his lips and continued to glare. Ashara sighed. “I need you to know that I love you, very much.”
Casin sneered. “I don’t care! Father told me what you are. You’re nothing but a slave. A whore. Used solely for making babies who will become soldiers. How many men have you slept with?”
Ashara gasped, eyes wide in horror. “Casin. I’ve only ever been with your father.”
But Casin shook his head and his gaze swept Mihel, who resembled their slight mother, then it hovered over Tirah with her long reddish-brown hair, and finally it landed on Wren. A thick mop of blue-black hair covered his head. “I don’t believe you.” Then he rushed out and as the door slammed, Wren woke up and started screaming.