Rueln Layheart

My small hands clung to my older sister's skirts as we stood in the hallway of our home. My brother was screaming in the other room. I pressed my face into her leg to try to block it out. It was gut-wrenching to listen to—a sound I would never forget.

 While my sister took me outside to distract me, my father attempted to calm my brother down. I could hear him speaking through the thin walls, but I didn't hear the words past my brother's cries. Nothing worked. Curled up against my sister's side, I listened and waited, trying my best not to cry too. 

It took longer than I want to admit for me to feel brave enough to visit my brother's room when it was quiet. Papa and my sister were talking in soft voices by the fireplace. They were acting so serious and sad but didn't explain why my big brother had been crying. They had been so excited all week, leaving so my brother could do something very important with Papa because he was a big boy now. No one told me it would make you sad to be a big boy.

When I thought Papa and sister didn't see, I got up from the cushion and went to stand in the shadow by the bedroom door. Leaning against the wall with my thumb in my mouth like I was still a baby, I stared at the door, too scared to reach up and push it open. I sniffed, wondering if I should go back to Papa, when I heard my brother's voice. "Come in, Rueln. It's okay."

Slowly, my small hands pushed at the door, and I hurried inside. I ran to my brother and threw myself under our blanket as if he might scream at me. Laying down beside him, I pressed as close as I could to his body, shaking with fear and confusion. He didn't speak or move his arm to hug me like he usually did, but he didn't move away either. That was okay. He was sad, so I wiggled closer and hugged him instead, my smaller arms wrapping around his neck. 

His body shuddered against mine. He let out a long sigh, sniffing to keep himself from crying again. His cheeks were cold, still damp with tears as I pressed my face against his and tightened my arms. I didn't want Eidke to be sad anymore. A whimper escaped my trembling lips before I lost my battle at last and sobbed. 

"No be sad, Eidke. No cry anymore," I pleaded, snot running down my nose and into his hair, but he didn't seem to mind. 

Eidke slowly sat up, bringing me up with him before he slowly wrapped his arms around me to hug me back. The blanket slid off us to the floor as a choked sound climbed up his throat. "Okay," he promised as the door behind us slid open. "I'm sorry, Rueln." He said, “okay,” but I knew he was crying again. It didn't seem like he was okay.

I shifted, turning my head to look back at the sound of footsteps, and saw my father and my older sister, Aleah, coming back into the room with worried expressions. 

 Aleah kneeled down on Eidke's other side and wrapped her arms around us both. Eidke leaned into her as she combed her fingers through his hair, soothing him. Softly, Aleah sang, the sweet sound filling the room. Eidke used to tell me that Mama did that to us all when we got sick, but I never could remember. For me, it had always been Aleah. She felt more like my mother than those stories ever did. I knew she would make Eidke feel better. moms were good at that. 

Papa sat beside us, one hand rubbing Eidke's back comfortingly, while the other went to my hair, mimicking Aleah. His hand was rough and warm, and in that one touch, I could feel how much he loved us. Papa would always keep us safe. He was always there and would make it better. I believed that with all my heart. I was wrong.

 It acted like a curse. My father explained that when someone lives their life well, they can regain the memories of their past life without harm. However, if the gods believed you abused your gifts, you pay for it in the next life. This payment was called backlash. 

Eidke had gone to the capital Hall of Memory today to be tested for 'Recall.' He had passed, gaining his memories of his former life as a renowned seer, but the price had been too high. While he regained his memories, the backlash had taken its toll on his body, condemning him for sins of a life that had long since ended. It had stolen what he had abused in his previous life. 

My brother was blind. 

When the day finally came, when it was my turn to be tested, all I wanted to do was cling to my sister's hand. My brown eyes stared up at the imposing building, and the crowd of people pooling along the entrance and exit and spreading out into the grounds looked frightening to me. My hand tightened in my sister's, only for her soft laughter to fill my ears. I looked up accusingly at her, but she shook her head and gently extracted my hand from around her fingers. 

"You're five years old, Rueln. You’re a big boy now. You can't keep holding onto my hand forever," she chided softly. 

 I reached for her hand again, not ready to let go, only for my father to kneel and pull me against him for a hug. I was angry now, pushing my unease and fear down, if only for the moment. "It's not fair, Papa!" I complained, rejecting my father's embrace. "Why can't Aleah and Eidke come too?" I demanded, crossing my arms. After I said it, however, I gave my brother a worried glance, realizing that even if he could, Eidke might not want to. 

"Because it's Papa's honor to go," Aleah answered, poking my puffed-up cheeks and forcing the air out of my lips. Usually, it would be what made me lose my pout and smile, but not today. It just served as a reminder that I was stalling. 

"Your brother and sister will wait for you right here when we come out," Papa promised, chucking my chin so I would look up at him. "Okay?"

"Okay…" I sulked, turning to look over at my siblings. Both smiled at me, encouraging me to take Papa's hand and follow him as he led me away, but I had to wave back at them one last time before I lost sight of them. Aleah waved first, then reached over to lift Eidke's hand up so he could know to do it too. The crowd closed in around Papa and me before I could see their hands fall back to their sides. 

Bodies crowded in close, bumping into me or cutting in front of us. I nearly got separated from Papa twice before he realized and picked me up. Held in his powerful arms, I swiveled my head left and right, taking in the sight.