Chapter 21: Bhaltair.
After my brother left I stayed a bit longer, continuing to shoot as I tried to wrap my head around his abrupt change and his final words.
‘A bow measures the strength of an archer's spirit, and the arrows its aim’
‘So he was measuring my spirit? Does that mean my spirit has grown stronger? I feel the same.’ I had never thought all that highly of myself to begin with. I liked to think I was smart, but that was about it.
I didn't think I had an unbreakable will or an indomitable spirit like heroes from fairy tales, and while I liked to think I was generally a good person, my character certainly wasn't perfect either. ‘Guess it doesn't matter.’
With one final arrow, I unstrung my bow and placed it back on the rack. The draw weight was laughable, especially compared to my brother's bow, but it was still enough to make my fingers ache after firing it for long enough.
Glancing over to his bow, sitting majestically on its pedestal, I couldn't help but continue to think about him. ‘I wonder if he's just like me. Trying to hide how he really feels, instead of actually being so cold and distant.’
I decided to just take my brother's words to mean that he had faith in my abilities and leave it at that. Even if that wasn't what he meant, that was how I liked to think about it. My view of him began to change slightly. Instead of the guy who just didn't care, he became the man who concealed his thoughts and emotions, always wearing a mask. If I was right about that though, then he was even better at it than I was.
‘Now, then, where to next?’ I asked myself, stepping back out into the brisk air and walking down the path back towards the center courtyard.
The castle was divided into 6 major sections, the only question was which one I wanted to go to next. There were the stables, the barracks, the courtyard for training and sparring, the archery range, the temple for meditation and technique training, and of course the main house where my family lived.
Of all of those choices, I had mostly bad memories from the majority of them. In fact, the only place I truly had good memories was the barracks, the place farthest away from my family. When I thought of a good place to try and relax and have fun, it was an obvious choice.
I took a step towards the barracks, stopping in my tracks as the guards opened the main gate. ‘Did father go somewhere?’ At first, I was curious, then I was petrified.
A man with long deep red hair as straight as blades was riding in by himself. His horse was black as the darkness of my room at night, and on his back, strapped over his long cloak, was a greatsword heavy enough to decapitate a giant.
‘Bhaltair…’
A part of me wanted to run and hide, but that would be the same as admitting that I was afraid of him, and even if I was I didn't want to show it. I stood my ground, refusing to budge as he rode towards me on his way to the stables.
His perfectly elegant form gracefully moved through the courtyard, his long flowing cloak bouncing up and down on his horse's rump. Due to cultural reasons, and my brother being an idiot, he didn't wear a shirt. All together It made quite the sight.
As he passed me, he kicked out one of his feet, knocking me to the ground where I had made my snow angel and ruining it. I didn't mind so much though, not as much as I minded the muddy boot print on my face.
I didn't feel like spending the effort to bother actually getting up, so I stayed down, but it wasn't like he had hit me that hard. The dull sting of the blunt impact was going to leave a bruise and already started to swell and ache.
‘At least it didn't get the dress dirty.’
I let out a sigh as I lay back in the snow. My jaw was sore, but the snow had caught my fall, so all things considered, it wasn't that bad. ‘I guess I saw it coming, probably should have tried to block it..’ He hadn't even bothered with words, treating me like an insignificant insect that he had just squashed with his boot. ‘Seems like everyone is acting just a bit different than usual. It's like they're all on edge.’
It made sense to me why he might not like me. My existence was threatening to him and his future as lord. The part that I didn't understand though, was that there was no resentment or anger in his actions. It was like he was doing it out of nature, the same way we needed to eat and drink, he would kick me in the face. That didn't make any sense either though.
“Shouldn't we check on your sister? She isn't getting up…”
I could faintly hear him talking to the guard at the stable.
“If a weak kick like that knocked her out she won't live another week anyway.”
I almost laughed. The saddest part was that it was true. If anyone knew what kind of hit I could take it was him, he basically hit me for a living. On the other side of that same coin, relatively speaking that kick was weak. It may have sent me flying, but he could hit much, much harder than that. I knew that better than anyone.
If he wanted to, he could have probably killed me with that kick. As ridiculously strong as Airsidh was, Bhaltair was even stronger. The sword on his back wasn't just for show, he could use it. With his heavy metal grieves, he could maneuver it at a pace so frightening it nearly made me tremble.
I took in another breath of fresh air, trying not to think about it. ‘Oh well. It's not like it matters. He'd never actually kill me or anything.’ The fact was, he was like Mara, he had far too much respect and loyalty towards my father to go against him.
As the cold snow began to chill my body I couldn't help but think of just how different my two brothers were. Oddly enough, Bhaltair seemed to idolize my father like I did, while Airsidh seemed to be more of a free spirit. ‘I wonder what makes them so different.’
The cold felt nice against the burning muscles in my arms and the new bruise I had on my cheek, so I just continued to lay there until they both went numb.