Ander - Part 3: Subchapter 41
41
Enka. It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. There was something missing, something vitally important, but I couldn't figure out what...
That's what Father had said back in his tent. Before... before everything. Looking at it now, Ander understood perfectly what he had meant.
Enka. First Daughter. There really was something missing, but what? The word danced maddeningly in front of his eyes, blurring, swaying, shifting in and out of focus... enka... enka... first daughter...
Taken from this world before she could even earn a name...
This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. Why did he get to live while his little sister had to die in secret? Yes, his little sister. He couldn't think of her as a mere 'half-sister'. They shared a different kind of bond, a bond he never knew existed until last night, but it was always there, binding them together. A bond of blood unlike any other.
What would have happened to him if she had lived? Would Father have been able to convince Shekka that she had miraculously given birth to a second cub right after the first one had nearly killed her? No, she might have been unconscious for a little while, but Shekka was still a midwife, a midwife who had given birth once before.
If his little sister had lived, then Ander would have died. Maybe not that night, or even the night after, but soon. They would have covered his mouth and nose and they would have smothered him. If he was lucky, he would have gotten a proper Wolven burial pyre, and that would have been the end of everything.
In a way, it was as if he had taken his little sister's life for himself...
No, that's not true. I was just a baby...
His little sister had died and Father had neatly pushed him into the void she had left behind.
The life he had lived with his family; playing, fighting, laughing, arguing, loving, hating, forgiving... good times and terrible, hurtful times... How would she have lived it? Would she have done the same as him, or been completely different? What would this world be like if she had been allowed to live? If she had been allowed to play, to fight, to laugh, to argue, to hate, to love, to forgive? To earn a name...
A frightening burst of pain suddenly tore through Ander's midsection and a bright red light flashed inside his eyes. He fell against the tree and fought with everything he had to stay upright, digging his claws into the bark. The flash eventually faded, but the pain did not. It was easily ten times worse than it was before, and Ander could no longer exhale without oozing blood from his mouth and ribs. The tree was already soaked in it, but of course, this tree and the earth it grew in were no strangers to bloodshed.
A single word carved into the trunk.
Enka.
First Daughter.
Something missing.
Something vitally important.
Splattered with blood.
His blood.
Enka.
First Daughter.
Something missing.
It wavered in front of his eyes, those lines carved into the bark, begging to be complete.
"It's thanks to you... that I was allowed to live." Ander whispered, "Did I steal your life? Or did you give it to me? I don't know..."
Ander could feel himself sliding down. He closed his eyes and thought about what his father had said, sitting together in his tent with the hazy glow of the bonfire shining in through the skins.
I don't know whether it was by design or by accident, but when I put you two together, your hands overlapped in such a way, with your fingers curled around that... it looked like...
Life. Such a precious thing, such a fragile thing. It can drag on for years and years, or it can be plucked away before it even has a chance to begin.
It looked like you were holding hands...
Sliding down the bark, watching the word go higher and higher, Ander thought he understood. Life is a gift. Every moment we spend being alive is something to be cherished, because we never know when it might end. We play, we fight, we laugh, we cry, we love, we hate, we forgive. We live by touching the hearts of those who are precious to us; mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, friends and lovers. The heart cannot last forever, but the bonds it forges will last for as long as there is life in this world.
Even his little sister, who never earned a name, who only managed to make two bonds in her infinitesimal lifetime, was still alive within the bonds she had forged with her father and her big brother, and she would continue to live inside the bonds they in turn make with those who are precious to them.
Because it's life. All of it is life.
And life is precious.
"Thank you..." Ander said, watching the word slip farther and farther away...
enka
watching the world slip further and further away...
enka
watching life slip further and further away...
enka
life...
enka
Ander dug his claws into the bark and locked his legs, temporarily halting his downward slide. It hurt... it hurt so badly he could barely stay conscious, but none of that mattered. He knew what was missing. He knew what he needed to do to make it complete, to make it right. On some level Father must have known it, too, otherwise he would have written it with a Great letter. But he didn't. Because he knew something was missing. And now, twenty-three years later, it was up to his son to finish it.
Ander tried to pull himself up. He tried so hard. He even made it far enough to reach the symbols. He didn't care if he had to carve it in with his bare nails, as long as it got done.
His own blood was his downfall. The trunk was slippery with it, and when he put too much weight against it he simply slid all the way down, scraping his chest against the bark and slamming into the ground with a black explosion of pain. It hurt so badly he couldn't even scream, couldn't even breathe. He just lay there with his shoulder propped up against the roots, gasping silently, wondering if he was about to die.
He clawed at the ground, trying to find some kind of purchase, and his fingers closed over the hard edges of a rock. He picked it up and held it to his face, squinting through the gathering darkness. One half was round and curved, and the other ended in a sharp point. This could have been the same rock Father had used to carve the epitaph all those years ago. Unlikely, yes, but so many unlikely things have been happening over the past few days. What's one little rock against all that?
Ander raised his arm as high as it would go with the rock in hand. It felt unnaturally heavy, constantly trying to pull him back down. He looked up and saw the trunk of the beech tree towering over him, with its branches swaying ever so slightly, high up in the sky, and the epitaph of his little sister, just barely out of reach, so close to being complete. He dug his feet into the earth, forcing his body up higher until the rock finally reached it. He pressed the tip against the wood like a primitive dagger, pushing as hard as he could. It should have punctured the bark easily, but it felt even harder than the stone he was using to cut it with. He simply didn't have enough strength left.
Please, not now... She has nothing... Nothing_. Can't I give her just this one thing? This one, tiny thing before I die?_
Ander pressed a little harder, his wrist shaking, the pain throbbing inside his chest. He finally felt the tip pierce the bark and -
His feet slid out from under him and he crashed all the way down again, but this time, he knew he wouldn't be able to get back up. He could feel the blood rush up in his throat again, like a million tiny daggers cutting his throat, and he just barely managed to flip over onto his back and turn his head to the side before it shot out of his mouth in a crimson spray. If that had happened while he was still facedown, he probably would have drowned.
Ander rested his head against the base of the tree that served as his sister's grave, and he looked up at the word. The only word.
enka
I'm sorry... I tried... I tried so hard... But I can't...
It was oddly fitting, this place. His sister's skeleton was buried somewhere beneath him, and now he would join her. Maybe, after years and years of rain and snow and hail and wind, maybe... maybe they would be able to hold hands again, deep beneath the earth.
This thought was grim, but also soothing, in a way. He didn't feel like he should be trying anymore. He had tried his best, and he had come far, so very far. No one could expect more than that. He only wished he could have done this one last thing for his sister before he had to leave.
The mist was starting to clear. He could see spots of light shining through the leaves above him, whispering to each other, softly...
If he listened hard enough, he could almost make out what they were saying. It sounded like... like the name of the vixen he loves. Kiana...
Ander smiled. And he listened. He listened to the light whisper her name.
Kiana...
Although the light sounded strangely irritated for some reason...
Kiana... Ki -
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