Damian's Oracle

"July twenty-seventh on the current calendar. Jule's is November third."

"You've got issues, bro."

"Fuck you, Damian," Dusty said in irritation. "It's the little things that count."

Damian shook his head, comforted by the little Oracle and his adopted brother.

"You did the right thing," Dusty said. "Give yourself a break and get some rest."

He slapped him on the arm and disappeared. Damian gazed at the dark landscape. Sleep was as far from his mind as possible. He thought instead of Claire and Sofia. At one point after his brother's death, he'd considered making Claire his queen. Respect for his brother's memory stopped him. In hindsight, he wondered how he'd ever been fooled or why he'd settle for Claire when there was someone like Sofia out there, who'd love him for him and not for his title.

He spent the night deep in thought, forcing himself to face the dark memories he'd tried so hard to bury.

*****

Two awoke from a dream. He sat up, sweating. He didn't remember the dream, but he saw that kiri was crying again.

"It's okay, kiri," he said.

She'd been quiet for a day or two, going everywhere with him, a companion in his head who was beyond the touch of his angry master. She was his, and she brought him a sense of peace.

I'm scared.

It was the first time he'd understood the words she spoke to him. Two swung his legs off the bed, holding his breath in case she spoke again. Her voice was tiny and quiet.

I'm scared.

He didn't know what to do.

"It's okay, kiri," he said again.

So much death in this world.

"We're not dead, kiri."

You are.

"I'm not dead. Are you?"

Not anymore.

He rubbed his face, his fingers slowing as he felt his scars. They were thick and gruesome, creating ridges and channels in his face. He traced his fingers over the scars on his hands and followed them up his arms, then his chest, then his legs. They were everywhere, like the mountain ranges surrounding their hideout. He didn't remember what made the scars, and he didn't realize how many there were.

"Maybe I am dead," he said, tracing the scars down to his feet.

You are.

He was breathing. He felt the pain of the last blow his master had given him before bed. His feet were cold, and he was hungry. Always hungry. Did he ever eat? He wasn't allowed to drink the juice he liked anymore.

"No, kiri, I am alive," he said.

He couldn't sleep when she cried. Two mechanically dressed and left his room. The halls were quiet. He walked without knowing exactly where he went. The halls narrowed and sloped, and he knew he'd been this way before even though he didn't remember when. He paused before a keypad and looked at his hand. There were three sets of numbers written in green ink on his palm. He typed the first in. The door opened and led to another keypad. He entered the second number and came to the final keypad. He typed in the last number.