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Avin

It was his turn, next. He knew before he heard his name. But which regret did the castle want? With a whole life full of them, how was he to choose what he regretted most? There was one long, agonizing moment of where the whole room was silent–silent, except for Jade’s muffled sobs, and the choking sound of Ku, trying to hold back her tears.

“Avin Merrlesby, alias Duke of Westlyn.”

That was low.

The cords fell off his wrists, and the screen lit up once more.

10

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9

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8

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Avin stood up. “You can stop your pictures,” he said quietly. “Nobody wants to see them here; not even me.”

A deathly quiet settled, quieter even than before. The screen still blinked the countdown, but Avin wouldn’t notice. He cocked an eye at the screen to make sure he knew what number flashed, and started. It was almost unbelievably hard to take that first deep breath–like fighting a whole army of weight off his chest.

3

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2

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“It was in the orphanage. You wouldn’t know the name. He was–so small!” images of Will flashed through his mind. “Billy” the other orphans had called him, but he told Avin he preferred Will. His parents had called him that. His hair was as pure gold and curly as Avin’s was muddy brown and straight. His fresh little eyes!

“Blue as forget-me-nots, before the sun has bleached them.” he said the last part grimly, knowing the story he told would show the dawn of that cursed sun that bleached the childish innocence out of them.

“He was too delicate to survive in many of the normal orphanages, maybe even a rich man’s orphanage, but here–”

He broke off, hating his voice for wobbling.

“He never had a chance in ours. Most of the boys called him ninny for being so fresh and fragile. Maybe that’s why he came to me.”

Avin shook his head. “I wanted to leave with him. I knew it was right, but I was–afraid.” His hands curled into fists without him willing them to, and the scars on his back ached. They had ached so much more then, he could hardly blame himself for being afraid to risk getting more.

Best make it short. Nobody wants this to be longer than it has to.

“He was too small and timid to go by himself and…” the words would have to be said sometime. “He died.” The memory that had been forever seared into his mind flashed out fresh. Will’s curly head leaning on Avin’s lap; his blue eyes, so clear they were almost transparent, staring up into his face, without the least reproach, but so full of pain Avin could almost feel it, reaching across time and memory into his soul. That sweet little childish voice lisping. “After that I left.” He hated himself almost more for leaving after Will died than for staying while he was alive. Not man enough to go or stay.

Avin clenched his fists.

The screen flashed and went dark and relief washed over him. He wouldn’t have to tell the other one, the one that still hurt too much to think of.

He stepped forward to where Jade was leaning on her desk, her shoulders still shaking. He knew she didn’t want to be touched, so he just stood; near enough for her to feel that he was there, but far enough that she wouldn’t feel trapped.

 

that was probably not actually his greatest regret, and I don’t even know if it happened that way, but it was fun to write. 🙂