My mother, Ris, was known as the Lucky Omega Lady, and had been fortunate that her twin had died at birth. She had no competition when it came time for her to rule, but Min and I had not been that fortunate. So, instead, we had to train, both in the laws and customs of the clan, and also in how to best each other. We had to learn how to hate each other, and it was this lesson that I failed at Instead, I loved my sister with all my heart.
If I could, I would quit… just leave, allow Min the rule of the clan uncontested, but that wasn’t allowed. She would have to hunt me down and defeat me.. She could only rule through blood. I did not want to die either, and I could not outrun her, so my options were few. I went to the classes, I took the lessons with father on weaponry, I excelled with the ritual daggers that we had to use, and I fought against the dread and reluctance in my heart as I needed to. Mother made it obvious that she thought I would be a far more fair ruler than Min, but father made it equally as clear that Min was a better fighter than I, more ruthless, more self-assured. She seemed to share none of my hesitance, but we hadn’t spoken in eleven months, since our sixteenth birthday, when we learned the Great Secret. Did she hate me? I didn’t know. I may never know.
The morning of the rite, I woke early, a sick feeling in my stomach. I waved away the food that Ged brought in… it would make no difference. If I lived, I could eat later. If I lived.
The ritual clothes were designed for show, not for function… the leather paneled skirt was only midthigh length, the vest laced on both sides, no undershirt, no jacket. All the more skin to show and bleed, all the faster to end the fight and start the festivities. At least my soft boots were knee-length. I gathered my curls back in a tail, donned my circlet that proclaimed me a potential Lady of the Omegas, and then stood shaking in the center of my room, looking around one last time. Last time? Yes… I didn’t expect to see this room again.
The arena was round, marble, with raised seats many feet above us for the nobles to sit in. On a special raised dais sat mother, father off to the side and slightly lower, his face grim. I met mothers eyes, surprised to see a look of eager anticipation in them, then tried to meet my fathers. His face hard, his eyes looked sad, but he refused to lock his gaze with mine. My heart full of foreboding, I accepted my daggers from the attendant, then looked across the room to look at my twin for the first time. Her hair was shorter, her outfit in shades of blue instead of green, her expression hard… oh, Min. Why did our clan have to be like this? Why couldn’t the older twin be recognized, as in other families? Why did our adulthood have to start like this?
The gong sounded, and I pushed all thinking aside, meeting Min in the center of the ring with one dagger raised, the other defending, instinct taking over. The fight was long; we seemed more evenly matched then I thought, but finally it was almost over… I had Min pinned against the wall, her left arm useless, her daggers gone. I had a horrid cut down the side of my face, narrowly missing my right eye, and numerous cuts over my arms and torso, one dagger myself, but that was all I needed. I raised my remaining dagger to her throat, and finally met her eyes… eyes that shown clear with love and resignation, eyes that didn’t hate me at all.
“Do it, Kai. Rule them well,” her voice was soft and trembled just slightly, and my heart hurt.
Tears fell from my eyes as I looked into the face so like my own, and I turned my head quickly to look at our parents. Father looked sad and angry, and I thought I saw tears on his face from here. Mother looked… so excited. So… so… eager… Anger flashed through me, bright and hot, as I turned back to Min. “No! There’s another way, Min. We have to rule in blood, but does it have to be our blood? If we ruled now, who’s to tell us we can’t rule together?”
Her eyes widened slightly as my meaning crept in, and she also shot a quick glance at the rulers dais, before locking eyes with me again, hate showing clear now. Min threw better than I, I remember father saying, so I dropped my hand and pressed my dagger into hers. Simultaneously, it seemed, I spun back and down, and her arm came up as she turned, graceful as a bird in mid-air. I missed the throw, the flight of the beautiful gemmed dagger from her hand, but I heard the gasps, heard the screams, and I looked up to see that father had not boasted. Min’s aim was true, and the dagger was now buried in Mother’s chest, her eyes still wide as she fell. Fathers eyes met mine then, fierce and proud, and I knew we’d done what he hoped for.
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