————-

The next morning they do forget though. Or at least they keep it secretly to themselves. We work, as we have to. We suffer. We love. One day a few days later we are lying down to go to sleep.

"Aunt Kata?" Pavlin asks in a small voice.

"What, baby?"

"Sometimes it feels like Misstress Sophie is my mom."

"Why does it feel like that?"

"Because. I have to go and try to make her happy. Be in her house. Have to listen to her. She's always being around and about. It's too trippy."

"I understand." The conversation keeps flowing though out of my attention as Andronicha starts talking to me.

"Aunt Nan," she whispers, "I think I know a way to sneak some treats to our people. We can go into the pantry when we are told to and hide it in our clothes. We won't even get caught. We can share it with people."

"Andronicha, you have to be very careful."

"Daddy," Levi starts from across the room, "have you ever seen an eclipse? I haven't seen one but I've heard stories."

"I have. You will too."

"So is it true what they say? Is it true that during when an eclipse happens that it's a sign of something great?"

"It is, son."

"Mama, mama, hug me tighter," Mafalia whispers into the dark.

"I don't have energy."

"Mama you have to keep me safe from all the monsters that walk around and are going in the shadows. Or else they will get me to eat. With their teeth. And then we'll all be sad."

"Okay. I'll protect you."
————

It's another morning. It's another war. But something is different about today. I can't help but feel all-consuming dread wash over me and through me as I trudge up the stairs.

I work. And besides the screaming, dripping sense of panic I normally feel at the threat of not doing the job right, I also feel this inexplicable dread that poisons every part of me and is heavy like lead. Why? I almost don't want to know.

Suddenly Sir Niamus bursts in, startling me as I almost drop my broom. Ugh what does he want?

"Listen my father was feeling merciful today. You get to say goodbye. Come with me."

I don't dare to talk, I just silently follow. But I'm both terrified and confused. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? Who am I going to never see again?

When I was a little girl, on my own in their mansion, I had to teach myself not to cry. The adults, the Towerpeople who towered over my terrified little form, didn't allow tears because they didn't like our kind complaining about our lot in life. So I don't cry now. But I really really want to cry right now and I almost do. Niamus is looking forward, head held high.

I get lead into the courtyard, the small one towards the back of the house, not the big one. It's dark brown and dusty. Katapa's already there, eyes wide and filled with worry. I rush over to her, press her body into mine. Our foreheads are touching, then our lips. She's my one and only, my knight in shining armour, and I'm hers.

"Is it you?" She asks, eyes desperately searching. I shake my head. The fact that she asked means it's not her either. I'm glad it's not her but not relieved, because that means it's someone else.

Anderei and Lilith are lead in next. Is it one of them? Oh universe, the children will be so incredibly heartbroken. The four of us hug for a long time. Arms around each other, foreheads pressed in cheeks, cheeks pressed on shoulders. It's soft and close and under any other circumstances it would've brought even a twinge of comfort. But not now.

"Is it one of you?" I ask. They shake their heads. Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh universe. My heart drops in my chest. Oh fuck. This is the worst possible outcome. It's one of the kids. Why? Why would they do that? I know why. But ... this is unimaginable cruelty.

We all stare at each other in mute horror. They can't be selling one of the kids. They just can't. They can't they can't they can't. But they are.

They're going to take one, maybe multiple of the sweet, darling, sensitive, young children. They're going to rip them out of the arms of their family, out of the arms of the people who raised them, the people who love them. The grief that happens to a child far from their family is unquantifiable. They're going to send them, alone and terrified, and missing their parents, into a foreign, unfamiliar situation. And they're going to drop those lovely, scared, forsaken children all alone into the middle of the Towerpeoples' private lives. They'll be face to face, day in and day out, with how they're considered less, how they'll always be considered less, I know that's what will happen it's what happened to all of us.

Anderei and Lilith and Katapa are crying. I wonder if I am. I bring my fingers to my eyes. Nothing. The rage and betrayal and the agony twisting inside of me sits cold and hard and tightly coiled like a monster of the deep.

/I'll kill them all,/ I promise myself. But I know it's a promise I can't keep.

Katapa looks at me like she can read my thoughts. And she welcomes them.

Pavlin comes first. Then it's Andronicha. Then Levi. Then Mafalia. Their wide, overly large eyes are glistening with tears. We hug them, desperately. I don't quite know what's going on but there are hands drying the soft shine of tears from the sparkles of cheeks, hands in the darkness of hair, hands wrapped over shoulders.

"I don't want to go I don't want to go I don't want to go." Mafalia is crying, her baby-round, cinnamon-brown cheeks messy with tears. I remember that she's four. Far too young. Far, far too young. She hugs Lilith, seeking as much warmth and affection as her mother can give her before she's finally pulled away. She clings to us as much as she can. And it's not enough. She's so soft, like a baby bird. Like a baby bird being pushed out of her nest.

"Baby. Baby I don't want you to go either. I'll love you no matter what." Lilith rubs a hand through the child's hair. She hugs each one of her children, tells them how much she will miss them.

"I love you guys, I love all you guys so much." Katapa is repeating these words almost frantically as she looks into each child's eyes. It's desperate. She's desperate. These kids aren't biologically hers. But they're her sun, moon and stars all rolled into one.

Pavlin's thoughtful eyes look defeated. On the outside. On the inside, under the surface, they're the moment right before heat becomes fire. Hope and anger and indignation all rolled into one. They are swearing, in the deep parts of them that they don't even have access to, that they will have their revenge. One day. It's a promise they can't keep.

"I see you. I'll always see you. No matter where you are, darling." I whisper into their ear after I kiss their cheek.

Andronicha is the angriest though. Andronicha's rage isn't buried under layers and layers of defeat and pretend-acceptance. It burns though all parts of her, tangled with the grief and fear and while her mouth is set in a hard, painfully maintained frown, her dark eyes expressing the fact that she is screaming inside. I don't think I have ever seen her like this before.

"Andronicha don't ever let them take your rage. Or your pride." I dry her tears with the tips of my fingers.

Levi. Sweet Levi. He's sort of gone stiff. He doesn't say anything. Doesn't do anything. I can tell that there's so much he wants to say. So much he wants to do. But he can't. This is just too devastating. I can show him that he's loved. I hug him tight. I hug and kiss and reassure and love and say goodbye to each and every one of them. Levi hugs me back and I can tell that he wants so badly to cry.

"I'll always think of you, forever for as long as I exist." I tell him.

I have to give them something that would tide them over even if it's just a tiny bit. Suddenly I ... I don't know what happens. It's like my whole body is filled with this, this light feathery force that's pushing me forwards and I just can't describe it.

We all embrace and hug and kiss and talk to each child in turns. Over and over and over. Frantically. It's not enough. It's not nearly enough.

"Guys. They're going to say things to you, do things to you, that hurt. I'm not going to deny that. But you will never ever deserve the way they treat you. Each and every one of you is wonderful, magical, and just as good as anyone else is. It doesn't matter what they think. Your mom and dad and Aunt Kata and I all love you so much. And you deserve to be loved more than the moon. You deserve to be treated well. We'll miss you so terribly every day for the rest of our lives."

Everyone stares at me with wide eyes. Saying "I want you to be treated well" is one thing but saying "you deserve to be treated well," is something that's, well, too rebellious to say out loud. In the company of the masters. But their eyes are shining. The tiniest twinge of ... some strange sense of victory ... seems strung into their grief.

"She's right you know," Katapa says solemnly, on her knees and hugging each child in turns.

"I know," Mafalia states simply.

"Yeah." Pavlin's voice is lead-heavy.

"I'll remember." Andronicha's voice is ember-hot.

Levi just gives a watery almost-smile and I give him one back.

Greif, greif, wild greif defines these next moments. And the desperate need to press all of my love into the hands of my children before they're dragged into a circle of Hell even lower than the circle they were already in. Before they're dragged into the circle I grew up in. Alone. In a world of adults who thought they were above me, thought I wasn't human. But such is the cycle. Towerpeople prefer having their child labour to be isolated and terrified. It's easier to get them to be productive and obedient that way.

I cling to my children as much as I can.

And then they're torn screaming from our arms by cruel, fat hands and glaring, towering figures and I collapse into the ground, all the energy having left me. It is a sunny day. But it feels like the beginning of a horrible storm. Or maybe the storm rages inside me.

——

I move through the rest of the day completely drowned in the swirling currents of my greif. Water, water, water. Lodged in my throat, in my lungs. Not really. But that's what it feels like. And obviously I am still forced to work though my nerves feel frayed, flayed, and every part is screaming. You always have to work, no matter what. And the work is so degrading, dehumanizing, always. Fuck it. Fuck it all damn it all to Hell damn /them/ all to Hell give us our goddamn respect back.

———

Settling down to sleep ... feels ... so so so much more empty than it usually did, without the children to give our warmth to. I lay with my back to Lilith, my fingers intertwined with Katapa. And I cry. Not for myself. But because I know what it is like growing up far from your parents. I had grown up far from my parents. I had been a small shadow of a child when Niamus had been a young son, a young and glaring sun, in this mausoleum of a house.

[Author's Note: If you like this piece check out my Mastodon my account is FSairuv@mas.to and I post about human rights, social justice, and the environment.]