From Afar

She heard her brother’s flute before she had even crested the hill leading out to the fields, but it was the voice that accompanied the music that surprised her. Slowing as the grasslands stretched out before her, Keaira’s eyes focused down by the river: a favorite spot of her sibling to sit while he played. From her vantage, she could see him tucked in his usual spot, flute raised to his lips, eyes closed. He was not alone.

The voice was gentle, complementing the light notes of the reed flute, the song an old tune often used by the priestesses of the Lady. She sat beside him, white hood thrown back to reveal thick cascades of red, blue eyes locked on the peaceful form of Drace as he played. A small smile graced her lips: a rare expression on the priestess.

Something inside Keaira tightened and her jaw clenched in response, eyes narrowing on the woman that sat beside her brother. Drace appeared oblivious to the look Rhoswen was sending him, or else he did not care.

The song ended with one last, resounding note from both flute and throat before fading away. Keaira watched as her brother hesitated before lowering the flute, his eyes opening in the next moment to look directly at the woman across from him. A handsome smile blossomed across his features.

Though she could not hear their words, the shocked teenager looked on silently as their lips moved, her jaw slowly tightening until her gums ached from the pressure. Their smiles never faded, and instead a blush blossomed on the face of the red-haired priestess, her head ducking away bashfully. It was not until Drace reached for Rhoswen’s cheek that Keaira realized there was blood running down her own palms, her nails sunken into her skin.

She turned away and stalked off to wash the blood from her hands.

~ by eeratka on February 17, 2007.