Inhuman Relations #17
"Ah, so that is what you expected..."Â He flashes a brilliant, white smile at you, so charming that your guard is instantly raised. "You expected to come home with me... Well, I deign to take a cold blooded murderer into my company. You deserve every injustice you get here."
Your lips part without sound and shock pins your equine ears flat to your skull. Deserting you! He is leaving you behind like carrion! Have you not completed the tasks you set out to do? Have you not redeemed yourself in his eyes? Can animals even redeem themselves? Maybe that was the problem... You tremble, snorting softly through your teardrop nostrils. More animal than human, you are acting like a beast of burden, taking on his burdens so that you do not cause him more pain... You are an animal and your brother is treating you as such.
Smoothing his rumpled clothes down with practiced care, your brother indifferently looks away from you, towards his being of his resurrection --- the wickedly smiling genie.
"Are we done here? May I be returned to my home now?" He asks of the ethereal being, showing him far more respect than he has shown to you at any time.
Accommodatingly, the genie gives your brother a deep, respectful bow, straightening up to stand tall and proud. Stretching his palms out towards your brother, his blue skin crackles with electrical energy, green sparks sizzling as if exposed to a great heat. An emerald smoke surrounds him, steaming from the genie's palms and your brother smiles a final time, not giving you the dignity of an audible farewell. And then, with a flash of light that strikes you as unnecessary and an act of showmanship on the genie's part, he is gone, the smoke dissipating quickly on the light breeze.
Sinking lower to the ground like a scorned dog, you curl your fingers into fists, hard fingertips cutting into your palms and bruising dark circles beneath the fur. He is gone without you, your own brother... What are you to do now? You are stuck here...stuck in the genie's private collection... You are just a freak of nature, a horse on two legs... What good could you have done if you had gone home anyway? As if being privy to your turmoil of thoughts, the genie mockingly pats you on the head, making you wrench your head away in disgust.
"I am glad that your brother has rejected your company,"he laughs, the sound echoing eerily off the rocks. "I have plenty of tasks for you to complete here, now that I have seen your skill! Why, I might not have allowed you to leave, even if he had been more forgiving to a murderer. You are much better put to use here."
"No!"Â You scream, throwing yourself at the genie, pummeling at him with your fists, your hooves, your teeth --- every weapon in your armory is brought into play and yet not a single thing seems to harm him. He chuckles and pushes you back on to the hard ground, raising a small cloud of dust as you land firmly, all air rushing from your lungs upon impact.
"Enjoy your time here, murderer," the genie taunts as he withdraws and vanishes. "I will return for you when I have another task... Do stay out of trouble, won't you?"
*
Lost and forgotten, you stumble through the foliage blindly, cursing and swearing loudly to no one in particular --- there is no human near to hear you. The trees rise up mockingly, fingers swiping at your body and scoring thin lines of red through your fur, adding to your war wounds from the battle against the dragon. Your muzzle is streaked with tears and every inch of your body aches with fatigue, making you stumble more than once. This is your home now, home until you escape, yes, escape, you think blearily. Exhaustion is overcoming you slowly and you sink to your knees and then your side, flattening a hollow out of the long grass for your body to nestle in. It does not take much longer for your eyes to flutter closed and your breathing to ease into a laborious rhythm, sleep the only remedy for your body's ills.
Your dreams are rapt with snarling devils with gleaming fangs, ghosts smiling then showing you a cold back... Shifting restlessly, you cannot find peace in sleep, but your body is ruthless in its holding of unconsciousness, demanding the time to heal. Drifting in and out of the knowing world, thoughts and dreams lose their differences; your lost mind wanders to your brother, his actions and his mind. In your heart, you know you have done the right thing in releasing your brother from the arms of death; the blood price has been paid. What need does your soul have for punishment?
The task of redemption now falls to him and, as you nuzzle mindlessly into the sweetly scented grass, you know that your soul is clear of his black marks.
Written by Amethyst Mare on 29 June 2012
The end (for now)