Rueln Layheart

I felt scattered like my soul, everything that made me up was pulling me apart in two directions. I was me and… I wasn’t.

Fingers gently combed through my braid, pulling the long black strands free a little at a time while I sat between mother’s legs. I could hardly keep still, too happy for words as my mother went through her routine to prepare me for bed.

Confusion washed over me.  What?

“Be still, my little flower,” my mother laughed, tugging gently at what remained of my braid. “I cannot brush your hair if you keep moving.”

“Sing me a song,” I begged, turning so I could rest my hands on her knee, my small fingers curling into the expensive silk of her dress. “I’ll be still, I promise.”

 What is this? This isn’t mine.

“Alright, alright,” she breathed, bending so she could kiss the tip of my nose. “Turn around.” I obeyed and grew still under her touch as she reached to the vanity beside her and picked up the sapphire blue comb with silver roses carved along its spine. It was so beautiful, and my favorite, but mother would never let me use it on my own. I think she was afraid I would break it. I beamed up at her, then closed my eyes as my mother combed through my long black hair, her voice filling our home with the celestial song of the beginning. The sound was almost magical to my ears. 

Heavy. 

My body was so heavy. What was that? A dream? My eyes opened to slits, even that much cost me much of what little energy I had left to me. A figure was bent over me, dabbing at my face with a wet cloth. My vision blurred and spun before focusing on Master Esra’s serene expression. 

“Master?” I croaked, my hand twitching when I tried to move it, but my body refused to obey me. 

“Shh,” she soothed. “A healer has already seen to you. You’re in recall. It will be over soon.” She turned away, taking the cool rag with her, only to dip it into a bowl and wring it out once more. “The healer said you were fighting the memories. Rest and let them come as they wish. It will be easier on you.” 

I shook my head, my vision swimming again. My head pounded as if a hundred oxen were stomping on my brain. I groaned, closing my eyes again, wanting to escape back into the dark, but I didn’t understand what was going on. All I could remember was bumping into someone and… the comb… The comb was in my dream, or was it… a memory? 

“Shh,” Master Esra soothed again, gently brushing my hair back from my face when I opened my eyes. “Rest, Rueln. It will all pass soon, I promise.”

I didn’t have the energy to nod, but I obeyed, closing my eyes and falling into the dark and into the memories that waited for me there. 

Fingers pulled at the long black strands of my hair, braiding sections of it back so it would remain out of my face. It used to amaze me to have my hair done in these intricate designs, highlighting my status among my people, but now it just bored me. Not to mention the discomfort in having my roots nearly pulled out got old. I was patient, however, closing my eyes to allow my handmaiden and guard Ara to do her job. She enjoyed her work, and it wouldn’t be kind of me to show my impatience for it. 

“All done!” she beamed, her hands moving down to my shoulders. “What do you think?”

Opening my eyes, I put on a smile for her and admired my reflection as she expected. There was no doubt I was beautiful if that word truly held any importance to me. My eyes stared back at me, nearly as black as my hair, which fell to my thighs. Braids framed my delicate face, giving my already feminine features an angular look, though the scar that ran from just under my left eye to my throat told a different story. 

Tilting my head, I looked back at Ara, my eyes softening when I saw her expectant face. “I love it,” I said. “Beautiful work, as always.”

Her fingers tightened around my shoulders for a moment before she bent and lay a gentle kiss in my hair, lingering a moment too long. I disliked when she or anyone else did this. It always left a twisting nauseous feeling in my gut. There was no malice behind it. I just didn’t like physical affection. I never had, but Ara seemed to be prone to it. 

“Thank you,” she said as she danced away towards my bed where she had laid out lavish dress robes for the day. 

I took one look at it and shook my head. “I’m not wearing that. The silk will look ridiculous. This is a war meeting, not a ball. Put it away.” I turned to the mirror again, leaning over to make one last change to my hair before I moved over to my wardrobe to find something for myself. 

Ara’s shoulders slumped, but she obeyed, putting the gown carefully away. As I worked, my other handmaiden Sepher pushed through the tent curtain and came to help. She had a stoic quiet about her I always liked, a contrast to Ara’s airiness. Both were extremely deadly warriors in their own right, having earned their places beside me several years prior. For them to still be with me now was an honor. 

“Thank you,” I said when the older woman pulled out a crimson tunic with orange designs decorating the elegant fabric. I already had a pair of white pants to go with it and began pulling them on while Ara came to help with my boots. 

“It is an important night,” Sepher murmured when she helped me dress in the tunic and adjust the silver chest plate into place before belting on a sword to my hip. When they finished, Sepher took a step backwards to admire the look. “You are a powerful woman, an inspiring leader.” She smiled with pride and glanced over at Ara, who stared at me with that familiar devotion she always had. I smiled at them both and offered my hands to them, allowing both to kiss my knuckles as they bowed respectfully to me. “Show those men who lead us.”

“This is it, isn’t it?” I asked, my confidence rising. “This battle will be the last.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for at least,” Ara said, rising to her feet again and hurrying to the table where my dagger still rested. The handmaid quickly took it and returned it to me, helping me slip it onto my hip before both guards went to retrieve their own weapons. 

“I believe you will know more in a few minutes,” Sepher murmured, making a few last-minute adjustments to herself and then Ara. They both needed to look just as presentable as I did. We had worked far too long and hard to prove that women had every right to stand as tall as any man to diminish ourselves now. 

“I pray it is the last,” I said, reaching down and pulling out my dagger and lifting it to kiss the jewel resting in its hilt before returning it. “Let’s go.”

Luck. That was for luck. When did I ever do that? The edges of my vision blurred and darkened as my consciousness tried to pull me out of the memory. I sensed the foreign life of my past self trying to merge with my mind, but it was unnatural. My instinct was to fight it, to push it away so I wouldn’t lose myself anymore. Trying to separate myself from the memories was the hardest thing I have ever done, and only when I realized the fight was useless did I give in again and fade back into the body of the strange woman. 

I was her, whoever she was. The body was different, the life, the memories, the relationships, but our soul remained the same. She had been with me all my life and I just hadn’t realized. 

Who are you?

Sepher moved to her place as the head guard at my right while Ara went to the tent curtains and pulled them back, allowing me to exit unimpeded. When we were through, Ara moved to my left and I led them through the camp with my head held high, walking with assertive purpose to my destination. I belonged here, not in the fancy estates of my birth. I belonged among the blood and the gore, fighting to end the suffering of my country. 

As I walked, soldiers and civilians alike drew closer, bowing to me without a word. Some tried to get close enough to touch the cloth of my tunic, but neither of my guards would allow it. Instead, I smiled and nodded my head, recognizing them, even greeting a few by name before moving on. I couldn’t linger to talk as I normally might, not tonight when so much was still at stake. 

I felt more present the second time I broke from the memory, my mind slowly growing more aware of my consciousness. I could tell it wasn’t supposed to be this way—this separation—but Aleah had always said I was stubborn. I didn’t want to lose myself. Whatever this was, recall or not, I wanted to be me when I woke up. I was afraid of falling in and becoming whoever this woman was when I opened my eyes. Keeping myself aware, however, was like walking in black tar. I was only wearing myself down until I was weak and raw to the bone. 

What was I supposed to do? What was the point of having memories of a past life? It’s gone! I don’t understand!

When we reached the large command tent, the soldiers on either side of the entrance bowed, drawing the drapes back to allow us inside. I resisted the urge to curl my lip at the lush furnishings, including what looked to be an expensive rug across the damp ground. We were at war. The men often accused me of having delicate tastes, yet, they waste gold on this? It always astounded me how blind they were to the irony of it. 

I took a shallow breath as I fought the urge to wet my lips. It would show weakness and I couldn’t allow that. Instead, I raised my eyes to the men filling the room, each one’s desire to intimidate me plain in every inch of their bodies. They wanted to see me bow to them, to kneel before them as women always had. Instead, I raised my chin and allowed a smile to press my lips together. I bowed to no one. 

“Tomorrow we are going to take Teshka,” I announced as I stepped further into the room and took my seat on the cushion at the head of the war table, my two guards at my back. Before me were the most recent maps of the city and the expected guard roaster. I paused for a moment, my eyes sweeping over everything before I glanced to my left at General Miash before pointing to the position of his troops. “What is the meaning of this?”

Seeing no error in where he placed his men, General Miash answered with an annoyingly large amount of confidence. “We are striking the southern wall where the supports are the weakest while you and General Hami attack the north. We can get inside with minimal casualties and—”

“You’re wrong,” I interrupted, frowning now. “Have you ever traveled to Teshka before the war, General Miash?”