The shrieks of her brother were a common occurrence for Sion. Insects, reptiles, any relatively slimy object, they all invoked his screams. So when Orion had screeched his heart out in that soprano scream of his, Sion had no worries.

She still rushed to his aid of course. A slow rush, but a rush nevertheless. For her that was an affirmation of her being a good sister. For Orion, it was his one chance of life.

♕

The hand had Crimson gloves, that was the first thing he noticed when he woke. Perhaps it was because it was his mother’s favourite colour. Perhaps that was why he saw that first instead of noticing the dagger.

In his defence, the weapon was the second thing he perceived. 

The dagger was stunning. It had a jewelled handle, leather cuffs, and precise engravings of what seemed to be an Ekrin snake. A coiled up, venomous, open-mouthed Ekrin snake. It just so happened that that was the same reptile that was on the House of Estrix crest.

The third thing he noticed was Sion, slightly out of breath, with widened eyes, and paled skin, horrored by the scene. It must have been the blood. Or the knife. Both objects have that effect on people.

And then he collapsed.

♕

“Orion is dead!” That was what Sion told her parents. A bit dramatic on her part, but one cannot expect any more of a seven-year-old who had just seen a bodiless set of hands attempt to kill her brother.

Avaro fainted. Corella raced to Orion’s side, saw the blood, saw the dagger, and did what any sensible mother would do. She choked Orion.

Or at least, to Sion it looked like she was choking him. In reality, she was cupping his neck to stop the blood flow. Once again, seven-year dramatics.

“What are you doing? Get Mrs. Feuter, tell her to get the medicines!” 

Sion flinched at her mother’s howling, before racing to Mrs. Fueter’s room. Panting as she went, she sprinted to the most grandiose room of the house. Her skirts trailed behind her, creating a harsh flapping sound against the wind. When she finally did reach the imposing room, she was assigned another task.

Find Mrs. Fueter. 

In any other room, a child could find an adult easily. Look for more than a second, find the person, and do what you need to do.

In this room, things were a tad more complicated. For starters, there were the statues. The room was lined with statues of people, of fruit, of birds, and whatnot. The ones that modelled people were so human-like that to Sion she could almost hear their breathing.

There was one particular sculpture that resembled Mrs. Fueter from her bronze hair to her gentle, honey-filled eyes. That was the most eerie object in the room. 

The other challenge was the height of the objects. Sion was never considered small for her age, she usually towered over others in her year. But to the mountainous bookshelves, gigantic cabinets, and lofty statues, she was on the same par as a just-born baby.

“Sion?” Mrs. Feuter’s head peeked beside one of the shelves, her voice full of familiar love.

“We need bandages and medicine, Orion’s dead!” Mrs. Feuter when shock-still at her statement, her skin painted a bright neon red. Then she ran. Sion had never seen Mrs. Feuter so strenuous. In fact, the most demanding exercises she had ever seen her perform were gentle walks across the kitchen floor. 

Sion stood still, shocked by her caretaker’s sudden vigour. And then she ran too. The girls ran across the foyer, hair flapping behind them. Sion skidded to a stop when she reached the guest room and tugged Mrs. Fueter’s dress.

Like any normal seven-year-old, she was lacking in the medical department. And the blood-watching department. It would take just a minute or two of witnessing blood ooze out of a person for her to feel faint. It was a miracle she didn’t collapse the second she saw Orion. 

Sion stayed in front of the tan door, not daring to enter the wounded room. So she waited. And hoped. Hoped that Orion would get better. Hoped that whoever had hurt her brother in such a merciless way would get a proper punishment. She hoped that her father’s plan wouldn’t fail, whatever it was. She hoped that Mrs. Fueter wasn’t getting fired.

Hopes usually came with questions for Sion. This time she was empty. It was most likely because she was flooded with questions from the moment she entered the carriage for a visit to Mrs. Fueter’s. Now she was void.

And just for a moment, she was almost free.