Episode one

Accepting his gifts, accompanying him wherever he went, allowing him into her room and on her bed,  and letting him carry and hold her hand all seemed like innocent gestures of sibling love to Aira until her innocence became a weapon against her. Her vulnerability exploited by the one she trusted the most.

◼◼◼◼

Covered with a quilt, Aira lay on the bed, her hands clasped together on her chest. Although awake, her eyes felt too heavy to open. Experiencing a pounding sensation in her head as if a hammer was steadily striking against her skull. Each pulse sending waves of nausea through her body, her throat feeling dry and scratchy, as though someone had rubbed rice paper against it.

I thought the afterlife was free from pain and suffering. How come my body felt like a dozen horses had trampled upon it? Was it all a lie?

Aira pondered, slowly opening her eyes with anticipation. However, the familiar surroundings she wished to escape revealed themselves, plunging her into a sense of misery and frustration. There was no gold, no pearls—nothing but her simple, plain room.

Why am I still here? 

Why did I not die?

Her heart pounded with desperation as she clung to the flicker of hope that she might disappear from her anguish-ridden reality. And with closed eyes, she pleaded for a miracle, for the pain to dissolve into nothingness. But when she opened them again, she was still on the bed where it all happened. Where the one she trusted the most turned against her, devouring her whole. The memories of that fateful day replaying in her mind, each detail etched into her soul like a cruel scar.

Her body convulsing with each sob, her tears mingled with the pain coursing through her veins. The torment seeming never-ending, an unrelenting force that consumed her from within, and she began questioning her existence.

Why wasn't I born dead, Lord?

Why didn't I die as I came from the womb?

Had I died at birth, I would now be at peace. 

Not in pain and misery as I am now. 

Lord, why have you forsaken me?

  It's written in the Lorendex of how you save those who love you, protecting them.

  Is this what you meant by protecting those you love?

  What did I do so wrong that you had to punish me so cruelly? 

Was having him force himself on me not enough that you had to stop me from dying too reliving that moment every day?

Since you forsook me first, don't blame me if I abandon you too.

I promise never to read the Lorendex or pray to you ever again.

You didn't protect me when I needed you. 

Why should I trust you anymore?

When all you do is lie? 

When you didn't hear my cry for help and just watched as he ruined my life? 

Who will want to marry me now?

What will people say when they find out what happened to me?

Are you happy to see me clothed in shame and disgrace?

Why didn't you just let me die? 

Why didn't you…

Aira's body turned into stone when she heard her brother's voice, low and sweet, accompanied by a gentle touch of a cloth wiping away her tears.

"Don't cry, beautiful Aira." 

She wanted to scream at him for what he did to her, but fear pressed down on her, constricting her ability to react. Every muscle tensed, refusing to obey her desperate plea to move as if they were locked in an invisible grip. The world around her blurring, her mind fixated solely on the threat before her. Her voice trapped within, stifled by the intensity of her terror.

"You are so selfish, Aira.  How could you try to kill yourself after creating such a mess? Did you think I'd let you leave?"

He pressed a spoonful of medicine to her lips, and she opened them reluctantly. Afraid he would hurt her again if she resisted. 

"If only you had listened and kept our little secret. Now everyone knows our little secret, but don't believe you. In Fact, I am the victim, and you are just a girl with loose morals who tried to seduce her brother."

Her chest felt like it would burst forth in a torrent of unleashed fury, a fury that burnt within her like a raging inferno that wanted to burn him to ashes, yet her body remained frustratingly immobile. 

"Do you know how I plan on punishing you? I will convince Grandmother to mark you with the Takna so no other man will ever want you."

Leaning down to kiss her, Aira closed her eyes, her stomach churning with disgust when she heard her sister's piercing yell.

"Get away from her!"

Zara swung her shoe with all her might, but Shomari quickly ducked, narrowly avoiding the flying shoe as it landed on the bed.

"What in the world are you doing?" Shomari shouted. "Are you out of your mind?"

Zara reached for the wooden stick with an attached knife by the door, the very one she used to stand guard in Aira's room every night since the incident. And with trembling rage in her voice, she charged towards him.

  "I will never allow you to hurt her again!"

She swung the stick wildly, trying to hit him with the knife, and although he managed to dodge her strikes, the wooden stick finally found its mark, connecting solidly with his arm.

Letting out a sharp grunt of pain, he staggered back, clutching his bleeding arm. A triumphant look crossing Zara's face, a surge of pure delight coursed through her at the sight of his blood dripping onto the floor.

"Leave before I carve through your face!" Zara's voice carried a warning, and the mere thought of the knife slicing through his handsome, prized face sent shivers down Shomari's spine.

"You will pay for this," he snarled, bolting out of the room. And Zara dropping the stick, rushed to her sister, holding her arms.

"Are you alright, Aira?"

Zara's touch loosened the invisible restraints that gripped Aira, the weight that had settled on her chest lifting, replaced by a newfound calm. And with a breath she didn't realise she was holding, she finally exhaled.

"Thank…you." Tears began streaming down her face, and Zara hugged her, her own tears mingling with hers.

"I am sorry I couldn't protect you from that monster."

"It's…all…my…fault. I…should…have…known. I…should…have…seen…through…the signs."

"No, Aira. You are not to blame for whatever he did to you. Do you hear me?"

Aira nodded.

"And never forget you are beautiful, strong, brave and loved. Okay?"

Aira nodded again.

"I promise this is the last time he will ever come close to you. The next time he tries, I will not spare him." 

Zara waited a few seconds with Aira still sobbing on her shoulders, then softly asked, "Aira, can you also promise me one thing?"

Aira nodded, sniffling.

"Promise me you will never try to hurt yourself again. Promise me you will live, getting through this together."

"But…how…will…I…forget…what…happened?Everytime…I…close…my…eyes…all…I…see…is…that…night." 

  "I… am sorry you went through all that pain alone. I am sorry I didn't notice you were suffering. It must have been hard for you."

Aira's sobs grew louder as she clung to her sister, releasing her pent-up anguish and misery. Each tear falling, holding within it the weight of her pain and the torment she endured in silence.

After her sobs subsided, fading into a gentle silence, the pain slightly bearable, she pulled back and smiled weakly at Zara.

"Feeling better?" Zara asked, wiping her tears away.

"Yes, thank…you."

After a few seconds of silence, Zara took a deep breath and held Aira's hands, looking into her eyes with a hopeful expression.

"Aira, do you want to leave this place?"

"But…where…will…we…go?"Aira asked. "We…have…never…left…the…capital…before. Also… we… don't…know…anyone…outside…the.. capital…who…isn't…family."

Zara squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I know a place where you will be safe. And do you know something interesting?" she paused for a second, "You can study apothecary and learn martial arts. Wouldn't you like that? To learn how to defend yourself."

Aira's eyes sparkled with newfound hope, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, reflecting her blossoming joy. The weight of her past seeming to lift from her shoulders as she envisioned a future free from the haunting memories that plagued her.

"But," Aira hesitated, her voice tinged with concern, "I…only…have…two…rhucats…of…silver…will…that…be…enough…for…our…journey?"

Zara pulled out her small pouch and opened it, inside several gold rhucats shining in lights.

Aira gasped. "Where…did…you…get…this?"

"I pawned four of grandmother's jewellery. Don't worry. She won't notice they are gone. So what do you say?"

"O…"

"I see the strumpet is awake?"

Hearing their stepmother's voice, Zara instinctively stood before Aira with arms outstretched.

"I won't let you hurt my sister."

Their stepmother huffing, Zara glanced at her wooden stick near the door, making a dash for it. But her stepmother, noticing her intentions, swiftly grabbed it from the floor and held it out of her reach. The maidservants restraining her.  Struggling against their hold, frustration burning in her eyes, she taunted their stepmother, her words filled with defiance.

"You see the blood on the blade and the floor? It's your son's. He was lucky I didn't aim for his face, but I can't promise the same next time."

Their stepmother's face twisted with rage, slapped Zara hard across the face, leaving a coppery taste in her mouth.

"I will deal with you later!" She tossed the stick aside and turned to her personal maidservant.  "Lock her up in the room. No one should feed or let her out until I say so."

Her attention shifting to Aira. She grabbed a handful of her hair as the maidservants dragged Zara out of the room.

"Now listen to me, you stupid girl. If you dare to mention my son's name to your grandmother or aunties, or if you try to lie that my son defiled you, I will make sure your sister follows your worthless mother to the grave. Do you understand?" The weight of her threat hanging heavily in the air, Aira nodded, tears streaming down her face in fear and compliance.

"So whatever you say will determine whether your sister lives or dies, understand?"

Aira nodded again.

Their stepmother satisfied with her control. Continued with her cruel remarks, "And wipe those tears away. I am not the one who failed to kill herself. You can't even do a good job as your mother."

With a trembling hand, Aira wiped her tears away as commanded.

■■■■

The smell of fragrant tea leaves wafted through the air mingling with the sweet scent of flowers and the gentle sound of water from the pond. In the Gazebo, Aira's grandmother sat comfortably on a cushion at the head of the low table. Her two aunties and stepmother flanking her on each side of the table,  sipping chamomile tea from their porcelain cups.  With Aira kneeling before them, her head bowed.

As her grandmother read the letter, she felt a sharp dagger in her heart twisting and turning as she relived the memory.

  Her ignored cries. 

Her hands pinned over her head. 

The way she struggled to push his body off her. 

His hand inside her dress.

The struggle of squeezing her thighs so he wouldn't go further. The satisfied look on his face after the act. 

The way he locked her in his arms as she cried while he stroked her hair and sang a lullaby to her.

The feeling of being trapped in a nightmare. A nightmare where her beloved brother turned into a fire burning her.

"Aira, did Shomari defile you?"

Her grandmother's question cut through the heavy silence, each word laden with accusation, pulling her out of the dark memory that haunted her mind. Looking at the grandmother then at her stepmother, she remembered her threat. Her trembling lips forming a word she knew she had to utter, a lie that would forever stain her soul.

"No."

"No? But that is what you wrote in your letter." Her grandmother pressed on, holding up the crumbled suicide letter.

"I…am…sorry…I…lied," Aira whispered, choking on her words.

"What was the reason you lied against your brother? A brother who adores and favours you even more than his own siblings?"

Feeling a lump in her throat, she replied, "I…am…sorry."

"Did you think we wouldn't know you tried to seduce your brother, but he rejected you?"

"Or that you are no longer a virgin? So tells us who you have been sleeping with, you shameless girl?" Her grandmother's voice grew sharper, demanding an answer as she had done a virginity test on her, a humiliating procedure that confirmed the loss of her hymen. But Aira still stayed silent. Something that pissed her grandmother, so she stood up and began beating her with a bamboo clapper.

"Answer me! Is it the guards? Or one of the manservants?"

Aira shook her head. 

She hadn't slept with anyone else. She hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone at all.

"Then who is it?"

"I…don't…reme…mber." Aira lied, hoping to end the interrogation, and her aunts gasped in shock, exchanging bewildered glances.

"What do you mean you don't remember?" Her grandmother asked, intensifying the ferocity of the beatings, but Aira remained silent, tears stinging her eyes, curling into a foetal position.

"Do you know the shame you would bring to our family if people were to find out what you have done or what you wrote? That you have zero love for your family. And you don't respect your body, using it as an instrument to serve sin." Her grandmother yelled, her voice harsh and cold.

"I…am…sorry," Aira said, barely audible.

"Do you think there is any boy who would want to marry a girl with such detestable behaviour?"

Aira shook her head. She didn't care about marriage. She didn't care about anything anymore.

"Or should I report you to the Ministry of Morals and Ethics? Do you want to be branded with the mark of takna?" Her grandmother asked, threatening her with the worst punishment possible for a girl in Kirania, seeing as girls believed to have loose morals had the mark of takna(dishonour) burnt into their left wrist. And any girl with that mark never got married, facing ridicule and stigmatisation all her life; most choosing to commit suicide than go through such emotional turmoil.

Aira shook her head. She didn't want that either. She just wanted to be left alone.

"You are to receive fifty whips and be confined in your room for one month with only one meal and a jug of water a day. Now leave my sight!" Her grandmother sneered, dismissing her with a wave of her hand.

Aira stood up from the ground, bowing to them.

"And don't forget to apologise to Shomari," her grandmother added, twisting the knife in her wound. The tears she had fought back falling down her cheeks.

DESCRIPTION CORNER

Aira's room was with minimal furnishings and decorations. A low poster bed against the wall with a woven bamboo mat on the floor to keep warm during cold months. Opposite the bed on the left, a study table and a white rug beneath the cushion. Near the window was a wooden dressing table with a large mirror and a few small drawers where Aira stored her hairpins, combs and accessories.