“Oh now I remember. What am I doing on the ground covered in dirt, and why are you holding…” she trailed off as she realized what just happened.
“I had another episode, didn’t I?” her voice was full of fear and sadness. He knew if he could see her face there would be a look of worry on it.
“Yes.”
They sat up and Sasha looked at him. He could see her eyes filling with tears that began to roll down her cheeks.
“Why?” she sobbed. “Why does this happen to me?”
She buried her head in the crook of his neck and he felt her hot tears soak his shirt. He did not answer her questions; they were not meant to be answered. Legon kissed the top of her head and now felt his own tears welling up in his eyes. Why did she suffer like this? Was there some purpose to it? He didn’t know, and he didn’t share these feelings with her. She needed him to be strong, to be a protector. They both needed him to be that.
“I wish I could take this from you… I would do anything to make it stop… I would take it on myself if I could.” His voice sounded choked.
“I know you would.” Her tone turned bitter. “But then you would be a freak like me.”
Legon gently moved her back so he could look into her eyes. “Don’t you say that. You’re not a freak. I love you, sister, more than anything in this world. You know that don’t you?” There was warmth and firmness in his voice.
He would take it from her if he could, he would take it and so much more-anything to keep from seeing the pain in those eyes. He wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone; he wanted her to understand that as she suffered so did he, though not in the same way. He tried to convey this to her in his gaze.
Sasha turned her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
“I know you do… and I you.” She smiled a bit; she could almost feel the love and concern radiating from him. How does he do that? she thought to herself. It’s like he can make me feel his emotions. That was one of the wonderful things about Legon: he had an ability to comfort people and convey love in a way that was unimaginable.
They sat on the hill holding each other, both sad, both scared, and both more thankful for each other than the other could ever know.
It was for this reason that Sasha was not liked in town. Sure, people were polite to her most of the time, but the only person other than family members that was truly kind to her was the town carpenter, Arkin. Sasha had once had a friend that was good to her, but that girl was gone now. She had been taken by the queen’s tax collectors when her family could not pay. People in the town said that Sasha was a good girl, but that demons possessed her and caused these episodes.
“You’ll see one day, Legon. She’ll slit your throat when they take over,” a lady named Moleth said once. Sasha was two years older than Legon and should be married, but was not because none of the men in town were willing to risk it. “Yeah she’s a nice girl now,” they would say, or “Have a demon like that lying next to me? No thanks!” Her brother had gotten into many fights defending her from these attacks; his friends Kovos and Barnin would back Legon in fights and would defend her honor when Legon was not around. Both boys were a little uncomfortable around her. However, they weren’t sure about her themselves, but they were loyal friends and so they backed Legon. Still, the violence disgusted her. She was thankful for the protection, but she was sad that it was done because of her, even though to a large extent it was necessary.
Barnin had left seeking adventure a year or so ago. He was headstrong and had always wanted to find the resistance and join them. He wasn’t anything amazing on a physical level but he made up for it in determination and confidence.
All three boys were tough. In truth, one of the only reasons certain townsfolk hadn’t done anything violent to Sasha yet was that Legon’s dad was the town butcher and they were worried he would do something to their food if they hurt her, which was true. The other reason was that they were truly afraid of what Legon would do; no one in town had won a fight with him in years, and he helped his dad as a butcher, so he had all sorts of knives and cleavers to use if he saw fit.
Legon felt Sasha’s crying ebb away. She looked up at him. Her eyes looked like glass and her face was red and tear-stained.
“Are you ready to go home? I know you have a lot to do,” she said.
“Are you strong enough?”
He didn’t want to rush her; in truth, if it would help he would hold her here all day. That’s what he wanted to do, keep his arms wrapped tight around her fragile body, keep her safe from herself or anything that could hurt her. But he knew that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect her from everything, not from her own body. He could protect her from unkind townsfolk, and he did, but what would happen when the tax collectors came? He didn’t want to think about it and returned his attention to his sister.
“Yes, I think so,” she replied. “Hold my hand on the way back in case I fall.”
“Ok, let me pack up… no, you stay here and rest. I’ll do it,” he said to her softly.
He rolled up all the blankets and packed everything in the empty basket. He hoisted it on his shoulder and helped up Sasha with his other arm. They began the descent to their house. It was slow compared to the climb up, since Legon didn’t want her to fall. As they entered the trees they saw shafts of morning light penetrating the canopy. There were flower buds on the ground; over to their right some pretty red ones had already blossomed, their sweet scent mixing with the musk of the moist earth. Thick green moss grew on the trunks and roots of the trees, and vines with little orange flowers were crawling up them. The air was thick in the woods, and when you entered it felt as if the rest of the world had been shut out. Mist was forming in the low-lying areas, and dew collected on the leaves. As they passed one tree, they noticed that between one of its branches and its trunk was a large spider web covered in dew. Legon marveled at the little structure. “How can a bug build something like that?” he wondered.
Both of them loved the woods; they would live right in the heart of it if they could. They both cheered up as they saw some rabbits running on the forest floor and squirrels high in the trees chattering their disapproval of the visitors. Birds were singing and life was bursting all over the forest. They didn’t stop to practice archery as they didn’t have the time, and Legon didn’t want Sasha to over exert herself. Soon they came to the foot of the hill and were crossing the field to their house. The field was green with wildflowers growing all over. Everywhere there were splashes of color; red and white here, purple and yellow there. The dew-covered plants shimmered in the morning light, reflecting tiny rainbows. It was beautiful. As they passed a clump of tall yellow flowers, Legon picked one and gave it to Sasha. She shortened the stem and placed the flower in her hair above her right ear.
“Thank you,” she said with a slight smile. She was apparently still feeling weak. Soon they could see the back of their house. He could see his mother outside beating a rug. The resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny; their mother looked just like Sasha but a bit older. As soon as they were close enough to see her face they saw a worried expression cross it.
“Sasha, you’ve had an episode,” she gasped. She dropped the beater she was holding and rushed over to them.
“Yes mother,” Legon said.
“Get her in, get her in!” Her voice sounded panicked as she reached over and swung Sasha’s arm over her shoulders and began to pull them in the house. “I want to have a look at her.”
They got Sasha inside and to the kitchen table. At that moment their father, an average — sized man with brown hair and thick burlap clothes, walked down the stairs and into the room. He saw what was happening instantly.
“Is she ok, Laura?” he asked in a deep, concerned voice.